"I ride to visit my friends," said Glyneth. "Good day to you, sir!"
On this morning Glyneth decided that she did care to risk another encounter with the odd gentleman—it was almost as if he had been waiting for her to ride past—and so she decided to wander in the woods.
She took up her berry basket, kissed Dame Flora, and promised to be home in time to eat the berries she planned to pick for her lunch. So saying, she set off into the Wild Woods.
Today the forest was at its best. The foliage glowed a thousand shades of green in the sunlight, and a breeze from the lake made a pleasant murmur as it passed.
Glyneth knew a place where wild strawberries grew in abundance, and never seemed to fail, but as she walked along the trail her attention was attracted by the most beautiful butterfly she had ever seen. It floated before her, on wings of orange, black and red fully six inches across, and of a most unusual shape. Glyneth increased her pace hoping that it would settle, that she might examine it at her leisure, but it flew even faster, and eventually, entering a glade, it flew into a woodcutter's hut.
Most odd, thought Glyneth. What a foolish butterfly! She looked through the door, and seemed to notice an odd greenish-yellow glow, but paid it no heed. She stepped into the hut, and looked all around, but the butterfly was gone. On an old table across the room lay a scrap of parchment. Glyneth read:
You may be surprised but all is well, and all will be well. Your good friend Sir Visftfuune will help you and is obout to bring you a great happiness. Once again Feel no fear. Put all trust in noble Sir Visbhune, and do his bidding.
Most strange, thought Glyneth. Why should she be surprised? And put her trust in Visbhume and do his bidding? Not likely! Still, undeniably, something strange was in the air! First the butterfly, then the peculiar light which now pervaded the room. Magic hung in the air! Glyneth had known a surfeit of magic and wanted no more of it. She turned to the door; never mind the butterfly, and the berries; she wanted only to be safe home at Watershade as quickly as possible.
She stepped from the hut, but where was the forest? She looked out on a strange landscape; where could she be?
Two suns hung at the zenith of a heather-gray sky, lazily circling each other: one green, the other lemon-yellow. Short blue grass grew along a hillside sloping down to a slow gentle river, which flowed from right to left and out on a wide flat plain. Where the river met the horizon an object like a black moon hung in the sky, and the very look of the object caused Glyneth a spasm of unreasonable fear, even horror. Feeling ever more frightened, Glyneth turned away to look elsewhere.
Across the river, low hills and dales rolled in a majestic rhythmic succession, finally blending together. A range of mountains, black and yellow-brown, slanted down from the far left, to disappear over the horizon. Closer at hand, along the banks of the river, grew trees with nearly spherical crowns, dark red or blue or blue-green. At the riverside a short man hunched over to dig in the mud with a spade. He wore a dark brown smock, and a wide-brimmed brown hat concealed his features. A hundred yards along the shore a boat swung at a rude dock.
Scanning the countryside, Glyneth could not help but marvel at the brightness and clarity of the colours. They were not the colours of Earth! Where had she wandered?... From behind her came the sound of a small polite cough. Glyneth whirled around. On a bench beside the hut sat the strange man who had spoken to her on the previous day. She stared at him in mingled wonder and consternation.
Visbhume rose to his feet and bowed. He wore neither cloak nor cape, only a voluminous shirt of black silk with loose overlong sleeves almost to his finger tips; the collar was tied with a flowing cravat of patterned black and red silk. His trousers were also voluminous black silk, hanging to the ground and barely showing long narrow black slippers.
"Have we not met before?" asked Visbhume in the most refined of accents.
"We spoke on the road yesterday," said Glyneth. Then, her voice trembling in hope, she asked, "Can you please tell me the way back to the forest? I am wanted home for my lunch."
"Aha ha hah!" said Visbhume. "It must be somewhere about."
"So I should think but I see it nowhere... . Why are you here?"
"At the moment, I stand admiring the splendid scenery of Tanjecterly. You are Glyneth, I believe. If I may say so, your person in no small measure enhances the beauty of these already charming vistas."
Glyneth frowned and pursed her lips but could think of nothing to say which did not seem ungracious.
Visbhume went on, as before using a voice of refinement and gentility. "You may know me as Sir Visbhume. I am a knight of excellent degree, versed in all the phases of chivalry, and in all the courtly arts now the rage of Aquitania. You will derive enormous benefit from my protection and instruction."
"That is kind of you, sir," said Glyneth. "I hope that you will indeed instruct me how to return to the forest. I must be home to Watershade within the hour; otherwise Dame Flora will worry greatly."
"That is a vain hope," said Visbhume grandly. "Dame Flora must find a means to assuage her concern. The gate functions in only one direction, and we must discover the corresponding crevice of return."
Glyneth searched dubiously all around. "How is that crevice found? If you tell me, I will search it out."
"There is no hurry," said Visbhume with a trace of asperity in his voice. "I regard this as a delightful occasion, with none to trouble us or say us nay, as is so often the case! We shall relax at ease and each take pleasure in the other's capabilities. I am accomplished in a dozen ways; you will clap your hands in happiness for your luck."
Glyneth, darting one quick side-glance at Visbhume, remained thoughtfully silent... . Visbhume was possibly unworldly. Cautiously she suggested: "You do not seem alarmed by this strange place! Would you not prefer to be at home with your family?"
"Ah, but I have no family! I am a wandering minstrel; I know music of palpable energies, music to cause your blood to pump and your feet to tap!" Visbhume pulled a small fiddle from his wallet and using an inordinately long bow, played a fine jig and danced as welclass="underline" kicking and jerking, raising high his elbows, producing all the while his strident, if sprightly, music.
At last, with eyes glowing, he came to a halt. "Why are you not dancing?"
"In truth, Sir Visbhume, I worry about finding my way home. Please, can you help me?"
"We shall see, we shall see," said Visbhume airily. "Come sit beside me and tell me an item or two of information."
"Sir, let me conduct you to Watershade, where we may talk at leisure."
Visbhume held up his hand. "No, no! I know all there is to be known of clever young ladies who say ‘yes' when they mean ‘no' and ‘no' when they mean ‘Visbhume, please and by all means!' I wish to talk here, where candor will make you my absolute favorite, and will not that be a pleasant treat? Come now, sit; I enjoy the sense of your delectable presence!"
"Sir Visbhume, I prefer to stand. Tell me what you wish to know."
"I am curious as to Prince Dhrun and his early youth. It would seem that he is quite old in years for so young a father,"
"Sir, the folk concerned might not wish me to gossip at wholesale with strangers."
"But I am not a stranger! I am Visbhume, and much attracted by your fresh young beauty! Here on Tanjecterly there are none to cavil and none to glare and none to cry out ‘impudicity!' We can indulge ourselves in the most daring of intimacies... . But ah, I have perhaps hinted at too much! Think only of my search for truth! I need but a few facts to ease my curiosity. Tell me, my dear! Tell me, do!"
Glyneth tried to seem casual. "Better that we return to Watershade, you and I! There you may put questions to Dhrun himself, and he will surely give you a gracious response. You will gain my good opinion, and I will know no guilt."