Laudine looked mildly interested, but she said only, "I don't know many stories. What if I don't recognize it?"
"You shall have to ask your ladies and Luneta and, er, this fine steward to help you," Rhience said, and immediately he launched into his act.
He began by walking about in a very feminine way, fanning himself and arranging his hair. Laudine already looked lost. "Whatever is he doing?" she asked.
"I believe he's supposed to be a beautiful lady," Luneta said.
Rhience nodded and immediately took the hand of one of the ladies-in-waiting and drew her into his act. Placing her before the imaginary mirror where he had been primping a moment before, Rhience drew back behind a wardrobe and watched the lady closely, a malevolent sneer on his lips.
"Oh, what is he doing now?"
"He's someone else, now, my lady," said one of the other ladies-in-waiting.
"Ooh!" chimed in the third one. "He's a wicked man who wants the beautiful lady!"
Rhience nodded again, then stepped out of his hiding place, holding an imaginary tray in one hand. He walked very stiffly over to the lady he had selected and, bowing deeply, pretended to serve her some wine, then strutted back to his corner.
Luneta couldn't help sneaking a glance at Malvolus, who was glaring at Rhience with a seething fury. Rhience's peculiar walk was exaggerated, but Luneta had no trouble recognizing the steward's pompous gait. The ladies all smothered giggles, and the other manservant cleared his throat in an awkward attempt to hide a laugh. Only Laudine appeared not to know whom Rhience was imitating.
Now Rhience, still in character as Malvolus, walked back to the wall and began preening himself before yet another pretend mirror, but this time he preened for much longer than he had when he had been the lady. He posed before the mirror and flexed his muscles and pretended to pluck hairs from his nostrils until the ladies-in-waiting were nearly bursting their seams from laughing. Luneta gathered that Malvolus had a reputation for vanity among the servants.
Then Rhience cupped his hand to his ear, listening to something, then began shaking as if he were in an earthquake. The shaking stopped, then began again, then stopped. Rhience raised one finger in the air and assumed a cunning expression. Immediately he leaped over to the pile of kitchenware and rope that he had brought with him. For the next few minutes, the ladies laughed helplessly while Rhience tied bits of crockery to his legs and put an iron pot on his head as if it were a helm.
Luneta glanced nervously at Malvolus. Rhience was obviously aping Malvolus's mismatched suit of armor, and Luneta was afraid that he was going too far. Now Rhience drew his broom handle and began to strut about practicing swordplay with it, but since his cooking pot helm kept falling over his eyes and he kept running into walls, this display only had the servants laughing harder. Now even the other manservant was roaring with laughter, no longer paying the slightest heed to Malvolus's furious glares.
"Whatever is he doing?" Laudine asked. She alone was not laughing but was staring at Rhience with the consternation of one watching a madman.
"I'm sure I couldn't say," Luneta replied.
But this question gave Malvolus the chance he needed. Stepping between Laudine and Rhience, he asked suavely, "Is this barren fool annoying you, my lady? Shall I remove him?"
"But I don't know what story he's presenting," Laudine said.
Malvolus gave the ladies a quelling glare. "Nor does anyone else, my lady. I shall take him away with me now, as there is some business that I must attend to anyway."
Rhience walked into a wardrobe with a crash, then removed the pot from his head. "Wait," he said. "I hadn't gotten to the part where the brave knight of the silly armor tries to seduce the beautiful lady while her betrothed is away."
Malvolus's self-control snapped. "I've heard enough!" he roared. "I will endure this no more! Choose your weapons! I shall fight you in the courtyard!"
The room grew still. Rhience looked amused, but he shook his head. "My dear fellow, nothing would give me more pleasure than to knock you around a bit, but I can't.
"Afraid?" Malvolus demanded.
"Disappointed, actually. You see, I've given my word not to take up arms against another man for another ten months or so."
Malvolus's face suddenly lit up with triumph. "Of course! You're the knight my master defeated on the Fool's New Year! He told me about the vow he forced you to make! He thought it was a grand joke!" Rhience bowed in mute acknowledgment, and Malvolus let out a sneering laugh. "Come with me, fool. You're bothering the ladies." Then the steward took Rhience firmly by the arm and led him away.
"Was it one of the stories of Aesop?" Laudine asked. She never had laughed.
Rhience was gone. When Luneta went to look for him later that day, he was nowhere to be found. His small room in the servants' quarters was empty, and no one could tell her anything about him. Finally she checked the stables, and his saddle and gear and great white horse were not there. She was staring at the empty stall for a moment, feeling curiously alone, when a voice spoke behind her.
"If you're looking for your foolish friend," came the smooth, triumphant voice of Malvolus, "I am desolated to tell you that he's gone. For good, I'd say. He ran off like a frightened cur because I told him to leave."
"Frightened?" Luneta replied scornfully. "Of you? I don't believe it."
The steward glanced significantly at the empty stall and said, "Then why, I wonder, is he gone?" With that, Malvolus strutted away, leaving Luneta to her thoughts.
These were bleak. Even if Malvolus was lying about the reason for Rhience's departure, it was obvious that he had gone, and without bidding her goodbye. Luneta remembered something he had said the day they arrived at Laudine's castle: I'm free to leave when I want. After all, she admitted, it was true. No one at Laudine's castle had any claim on him.
Life at Laudine's manor was less enjoyable without Rhience, and for all she had protested at the time, Luneta came to realize that Rhience had been right about one thing. Laudine was caring and pleasant and even smiled sometimes, but the one thing that she didn't do was laugh. And, with Malvolus ruling the castle more firmly with every passing day, there were precious few others who would laugh either. Luneta's life would have been dreary indeed if it hadn't been for her lessons.
These began two days after Rhience left. Laudine had allowed Luneta to coax her out of her bed that morning, and though she still repeatedly wondered aloud what Ywain was doing at that moment, she seemed to have a little more energy. Luneta skillfully guided her to her dressing table, succeeding in distracting Laudine with her morning toilette for more than an hour, and was just casting about in her mind for some other diversion when Laudine said, "Let me see your hand, Luneta."
Ready to encourage interest in anything, Luneta held both hands out to Laudine, who took her left hand and examined its back. "How long have you had this mark?"
Luneta glanced politely at the small dark spot on her hand. "As long as I can remember. It's just a birthmark."
"I wonder what Lynet's thinking, sometimes," Laudine said to herself. Then, more loudly, she said, "Come here." Standing, Laudine pulled back an embroidered tapestry that hung along one wall of her room, revealing a small door. "Now you mustn't tell anyone about this room," Laudine said, "but it's all right to show you. I'm sure that you have the look."
"What look?" Luneta asked.
"Why, the look of an enchantress, of course."
"An enchantress? Me?"
"Yes, indeed," Laudine replied, opening the door and pulling Luneta in after her. "I can't always tell, the way some people can, but I've been watching you, and I'm quite sure of it now."
"But I've never done anything magical," Luneta protested.
"Why, my dear, none of us do until we've been taught. No one is born with the ability to do magic; it's just that some of us are born with the ability to learn. Now this," she said, gesturing at the small room behind the door, "is where I make my own enchantments."
Lu
neta gazed around her with awe. Except for the mirrors that lined every wall, it looked very much as she would have expected a witch's workshop to look: dark and filled with bottles and mysterious vials. Laudine was busy lighting dozens of candles.
"I wish that I could have more sunlight in here," Laudine said. "Often after working here I have to go out into the daylight to see the effects, but there are certain potions and brews that must be done in darkness. So I just use a lot of candles."
Luneta took a blue bottle down from a shelf. "What's in here?"
"That removes warts," Laudine said. "You don't have any warts, do you?"
"No," Luneta said, mildly disappointed. Ointments that removed warts were hardly her idea of magic. Even her mother had some wart cream.
"Here it is," Laudine said. "Now, stretch out that hand." Laudine opened a tiny vial and dipped a delicate brush inside. She painted Luneta's birthmark with the lotion and muttered, "Melifelet telefilem," or something like that, and Luneta's birthmark was gone.
Luneta examined the spot. "It wasn't bothering me, really," she said.
"I know what you mean," Laudine said. "A birthmark can be very attractive, if it's in the right place. I have several myself. But you don't want them on your hands. They'll look like those horrid dark spots that old people get. Now," she continued, "have you ever wished that you were different than you are? In any way?"
"I used to wish I were a boy," Luneta said.
"Oh, I couldn't do that!" Laudine said. "Very advanced magic, that would be."
"It's all right," Luneta hastily assured her. "I don't want to be a boy anymore. That was just when I was younger and wanted to wear breeches."
Laudine looked shocked and muttered, "Breeches."
"For riding, you know. I'd much rather wear a silk gown now." This appeared to reassure Laudine, so Luneta tried again. "I sometimes wish I were taller," Luneta said.
Laudine shook her head. "Don't even think about that, my dear. No one ever looks at a tall girl."
"I would think that they'd look at her rather more often," Luneta said. "I mean, she'd be more evident, wouldn't she?"
"I meant boys," Laudine said. "Nothing is more fatal to a girl's chances than to be taller than the boys. Trust me on this. It positively terrifies boys to be introduced to a girl who towers over them. Next time you're at a ball, take a look around and you'll see that all the tall women are standing at the edge of the room watching the shorter women dance. No, you are a very acceptable height." Laudine peered closely at Luneta's face. "You're probably too young, but it doesn't hurt to ask: Do you have any wrinkles? Even little ones? I can smooth them out."
"No, I don't think so."
"Good. I didn't really think so, but I felt I should ask because—forgive me, dear—your mother has a pronounced tendency to wrinkle. You may have noticed this yourself."
"Not really," Luneta said.
"What? Haven't you seen those wrinkles at the corners of her eyes?"
"Oh, those. Yes, of course. I think she gets those from laughing. She always crinkles her eyes up when she laughs, you see."
Laudine nodded soberly. "That's what she told me when I saw her last. It only goes to show that you can't be too careful. Even things that seem completely innocent can have horrible ill effects. That's why I don't ride anymore."
"I beg your pardon?" Luneta asked, bewildered.
"Riding has a terrible, er, flattening effect on certain parts of your body. And, of course, one must take into account the dreadful effects on the skin of being out in the wind and the sun." Laudine shuddered expressively.
"So you don't ride because it might hurt your complexion and flatten your, your other parts?"
Laudine nodded.
"And you don't laugh because—"
"Your mother's wrinkles should be a caution to every lady."
"I never thought that her wrinkles looked bad," Luneta pointed out.
Laudine sighed tolerantly. "I suppose you were just used to them. One can only hope that your father has also grown reconciled to them." She didn't sound very hopeful, though.
"What else do you have here?" Luneta asked.
"I'll teach you," Laudine said, with more energy than she had shown since Ywain left.
And so began Luneta's lessons in enchantment. Every morning for the next several months, the two of them would disappear into Laudine's private room and discuss various potions and charms. Most of these seemed rather trivial to Luneta, as they had no goal but to enhance one's own personal appearance, but she was not immune to the delight of a charm that made rubies glow like fire or a lotion that completely erased a sunburn or a complex charm of Laudine's own devising that, when uttered over silk, made it sheer and diaphanous and impossibly beautiful. In the afternoons, Luneta rode out of the castle to gather herbs and plants with magical properties to use the next day. She had no trouble finding these plants—her mother had taught her about herbs almost as soon as she could walk—but she took her time on these rides. It was her only time alone and away from Laudine's constant prattle, which, though it was always good-natured, did pall on one after a time.
In this way, learning some elementary magic and riding alone in the fields, time passed fairly quickly for Luneta, and since Laudine gradually stopped asking so often for Ywain, Luneta paid little attention to the passage of time. Summer came, then cooled into autumn, but with beautiful clothes to wear and new things to learn each day, Luneta barely noticed. Thus it was a surprise for her when she walked into Laudine's room one morning and found her prostrate on her bed, surrounded by her lady attendants. The sneering, joyful face of Malvolus gloated over his weeping mistress. Luneta demanded, "What have you been doing to Laudine, you plague of boils?"
"Is it possible," the steward replied smoothly, "that you, like my mistress, are unaware of what day it is?"
"What difference does the day make?" Luneta snapped.
"I see," Malvolus said. "Do you know, I believe that you really aren't pretending. I'm quite surprised. I had thought that you at least would be more careful."
"What are you talking about?" Luneta demanded.
"I am desolated, my lady, to be the one to inform you, but yesterday was the day that your cousin promised, as a proof of his love, to return to marry my mistress. It has now been six months and one day since Sir Ywain left."
VI. The Madness of Ywain
Huddled in her long winter robe, her fingers numb, Luneta rode gratefully up to the gaily colored encampment around the Oxford tournament fields. Guiding her horse through the outer ring of tents, she found herself at once in a busy crowd of brightly dressed courtiers and ladies. Normally she would have been enthralled by the sumptuous furs and fashions that surrounded her, but this day she hardly noticed. "Excuse me," she said to a passing lady-in-waiting, "is the tournament over yet?"
"Oh, no," the lady replied. "The final joust for the prize won't be until tomorrow afternoon."
Luneta sighed with relief. She had ridden nearly eighteen hours straight, trying to get to this tournament before it ended. "And, forgive me, my lady, but do you by any chance know of a knight by the name of Ywain?"
The lady gaped at her with incredulity, then shrieked with laughter. "Zounds, girl! Wherever have you been for the past few months? Everyone knows Sir Ywain! He's the greatest knight in England!"
"Is he?" Luneta asked, without much interest. "And is he here?"
"Of course he's here," the lady said. "I told you. He's the greatest knight in England. He'll be competing for the prize tomorrow—and winning it, too!"
"Thank you so much," Luneta said, with determined politeness. "And, if I might trespass on your good nature one more time, do you think that you could take me to Ywain?"
The woman shrieked again, as if Luneta had said something uproariously funny. "I wish I could get a private visit with Sir Ywain! But I certainly wouldn't bring you along! He's so handsome!" she added dreamily.
"I'm sure that he'll see me," Luneta said.
&
nbsp; "Child," the lady said, shaking her head. "The most beautiful women in the court wait outside his tent every morning, just hoping to catch a glimpse of him, and if he didn't have five guards who went everywhere with him, they'd be crawling into the tent as well."
"But I'm his cousin," Luneta explained.
"Dear child, if that would work, we would all be his cousins," the lady replied. "Why don't you find a nice boy closer to your own age?" With that, the lady walked away, still chuckling.
"She's telling the truth, you know," said a familiar voice behind Luneta. She whirled around in her saddle and stared with a mixture of delight and indignation at Rhience the Fool. "No one can get in to see his famousness. I've been trying for nearly a month now."
"Where have you been?" Luneta demanded, indignation winning the struggle for a time. "Why didn't you tell me you were leaving?"
"I thought you'd figure that out yourself," Rhience replied.
"Was it something that I said?"
"More like something I said," Rhience answered. "Malvolus told me that if I didn't leave at once he would have his soldiers kill me." He pursed his lips thoughtfully. "You see, in retrospect, I suspect I shouldn't have told him about my oath not to raise arms against any man." Luneta understood, and her indignation faded. She should have known. Rhience said, "But you aren't here looking for me, are you?"
"No," she said.
"Ywain missed his wedding date. How did Lady Laudine take it?"
"Badly," Luneta said. She slid from the saddle and shook her head at the memory.
"And now she's sent you to fetch him back?" Rhience asked.
"Not exactly," Luneta admitted. "She sent me to tell him that he needn't bother returning."
Rhience raised one eyebrow. "A perfectly understandable response, but somehow it doesn't sound like Lady Laudine. Has the lap dog learned to bark?"
Luneta shook her head. "No. I've no doubt that Malvolus told her what to say. I know for a fact that he told her to send me with the message."
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