"Yes indeed. Thirty miles past-Lumarth is the town Hazelwood, where they mark the Druid festivals with a fair. Be there in two weeks for Lugrasad of the Druids!"

Glyneth and Dhrun proceeded along the road. A half-mile they walked, then out from behind a blackberry thicket sprang a tall thin robber. He wore a long black cloak, a black cloth over all his face, save his eyes, and a flat-crowned black hat, with an extremely broad brim. In his left hand he brandished a dagger on high.

"Stand and deliver!" he cried harshly. "Else I slit your throats from ear to ear!"

He advanced on Glyneth, plunged his hand into her bodice and seized the purse from its snug place between her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. Next he turned to Dhrun and flourished the dagger. "Your valuables, and with a will!"

"My valuables are no concern of yours."

"But they are! 1 declare that I own the world and all its fruits. Whoever without leave uses my goods incurs my most furious wrath; is this not justice?"

Dhrun, bewildered, had no response; meanwhile the robber deftly lifted the amulet from his neck. "Pshaw! What is this? Well, we'll sort it out later. Go your ways now, in humility and be more careful in the future!"

Glyneth, grimly silent, and Dhrun, sobbing with rage, continued along the road. Behind them came a fleeing laugh. "Ha hwee!" Then the robber disappeared into the underbrush.

An hour later Glyneth and Dhrun arrived at the village Lumarth. They went at once to the inn marked by the sign of the Blue Goose, where Glyneth asked where she might find Numinante the Thief-taker.

"By the whims of Fortunatus, you'll find Numinante himself in the common-room, drinking ale from a pot the size of his head."

"Thank you, sir." Glyneth entered the common-room.with caution. At other inns she had been subjected to indignities: drunken kisses, over-familiar pats on the haunch, leers and tickles. At the counter sat a man of medium size, with a look of prim sobriety, belied by the stoup from which he drank his ale.

Glyneth approached him confidently; here was no man to take liberties.

"Sir Numinante?"

"Well, la.s.s?"

"I have a criminal act to report."

"Say on; this is my business."

"At the crossroads we met a Nahabod, or Nab the Narrow, who waited for the cadavers to drop that he might take their clothes. We talked a bit, then went our way. Not half a mile along, out from the woods jumped a robber who took all we owned."

Numinante said: "My dear, you were robbed by the great Janton Throatcut himself. Only last week I hanged high his six henchmen. He was in the act of taking their shoes for his collection; he does not care a fig for clothes."

"But he told us of Tonker the carpenter, Bosco the chef, the two robbers Pirriclaw and I forget the other-"

"Possibly so. They ranged the countryside with Janton like a pack of wild dogs. But Janton is leaving these parts and will take his business elsewhere. Someday I will hang him as well, but- we must take these pleasures as they come."

"Can't you send out to search for him?" asked Dhrun. "He took my amulet and our purse of money."

"1 could send out," said Numinante, "but to what prpfit? He has bolt-holes everywhere. All I can do at the moment is feed you at the king's expense. Enric! Feed these children on your best. One of those fat pullets from the spit, a good slice of beef and another of suet pudding, with cider to wash it down." "At once, Sir Numinante."

Glyneth said, "One thing more, sir. As you see, Dhrun here has been blinded by the forest fairies. We have been advised to seek a magician who will set matters straight. Can you suggest someone who might help us?"

Numinante swallowed a good pint of ale. After reflection he said: "I know of such persons, but by reputation only. In this case I cannot help you, since I have no magic, and only magicians know other magicians."

"Janton suggested that we visit the fair at Hazelwood, and press our inquiries there."

"That would seem sound advice-unless he proposes to meet you along the way and rob you yet again. I see that Enric has laid you a good meal; eat with appet.i.te."

With sagging shoulders Dhrun and Glyneth followed Enric to the table he had set and though he had provided his best, the food lacked savor. A dozen times Glyneth opened her mouth to tell Dhrun that he had lost only an ordinary pebble, that his fairy stone had been broken to bits; as many times she closed her mouth, ashamed to admit her deception.

Enric showed them the road to Hazelwood, "It's up hill and down dale for fifteen miles, then through Wheary Woods, then across the Lanklands, up and over the Far Hills, then follow the Sham River into Hazelwood. You'll be a good four days in the going. I take it you carry no great sum of money?"

"We have two gold crowns, sir."

"Let me change one into florins and pennies and you'll have an easier time of it."

With eight silver florins and twenty copper pennies c.h.i.n.king in a small cloth sack, and with a single gold crown secure in the waistband of Dhrun's trousers, the two set out along the road to Hazelwood.

Four days later, hungry and footsore, Dhrun and Glyneth arrived at Hazelwood. The journey had been uneventful save for an episode late one afternoon near the village Maude. A scant half-mile short of town they heard moans emanating from the ditch at the side of the road. Running to look, they discovered a crippled old man who had wandered from the road and had fallen into a growth of burdock.

With vast effort Dhrun and Glyneth brought him to the road and a.s.sisted him into the village, where he collapsed on a bench., "Thank you, my dears," he said. "If dying must be done, better here than in a ditch."

"But why should you die?" asked Glyneth. "I have seen living folk in far worse case than you."

"Perhaps so, but they were surrounded by loved ones or were able to work. I have not a copper to my name and no one will hire me, and so I will die."

Glyneth took Dhrun aside. "We can't abandon him here."

Dhrun spoke in a hollow voice. "We certainly can't take him with us."

"I know. Even less could I walk away and leave him sitting here in despair."

"What do you want to do?"

"I know we can't help everyone we meet, but we can help this particular person."

"The gold crown?"

"Yes."

Wordlessly Dhrun worked the coin from his waistband and gave it to Glyneth. She took it to the old man. "This is all we can spare, but it will help you for a while."

"My blessings on you both!"

Dhrun and Glyneth continued to the inn, only to discover that all the chambers were occupied. "The loft over the stable is full of fresh hay, and you may sleep there for a penny, and if you'll help me in the kitchen for an hour or so, I'll serve you your supper."

In the kitchen Dhrun sh.e.l.led peas and Glyneth scoured pots until the innkeeper rushed forward. "No more, no more! I can see my face in them now! Come, you've earned your supper."

He took them to a table in the corner of the kitchen and served them first a soup of leeks and lentils, then slices of pork roasted with apples, bread and gravy and a fresh peach apiece for dessert.

They left the kitchen by way of the common-room, where a great festivity seemed in progress. Three musicians, with drums, a flageolet and a double lute, played merry quicksteps. Looking through ranked onlookers Glyneth discovered the old cripple to whom they had given the gold coin now drunk and dancing a boisterous hornpipe with both legs flying through the air. Then he seized the serving wench and the two danced an extravagant prancing cakewalk up and down the length of the common-room, the old man with one arm around the serving wench and the other holding high a great pot of ale. Glyneth spoke to one of the bystanders: "Who is that old man? When I saw him last he appeared to be crippled."

"He is Ludolf the knave and no more crippled than you or I. He'll saunter out of town, make himself comfortable beside the road. When a traveler pa.s.ses he starts to moan in a pitiful fashion, and as like as not the traveler helps him into town. Then Ludolf blithers and sniffs and the traveler usually gives him a coin or two. Today he must have encountered a bashaw from the Indies."

Sadly Glyneth led Dhrun to the stable, and up a ladder into the loft. Here she told Dhrun of what she had seen in the common-room. Dhrun became furious. He gritted his teeth and drew back the corners of his mouth. "I despise liars and cheaters!"

Glyneth laughed mournfully. "Dhrun, we mustn't trouble ourselves. I won't say we've learned a lesson, because we might do the same thing again tomorrow."

"With many more precautions."

"True. But at least we need not feel ashamed of ourselves."

From Maude to Hazelwood the road took them through a varied landscape of forest and field, mountain and valley, but they encountered neither harms nor alarms, and arrived in Hazelwood at noon on the fifth day out of Lumarth. The festival had not yet commenced, but already booths, pavilions, platforms and other furniture of the fair were in the process of construction.

Glyneth, holding tight to Dhrun's hand, appraised the activity, "It looks as if there will be more merchants than ordinary' folk. Perhaps they'll all sell to each other. It's truly gay, with all the hammering and new bunting."

"What is that delightful smell?" asked Dhrun. "It reminds me of how hungry I am."

"About twenty yards to windward a man in a white hat is frying sausages. I agree that the smell is tantalizing-but we have only seven florins and a few odd pennies to our name, which I hope will keep us until somehow we can earn morel money."

"Is the sausage-seller doing a brisk business?"

"Not really."

"Then let's try to win him some trade."

"All very well, but how?"

"With these." Dhrun brought out his pipes.

"Very good idea." Glyneth led Dhrun close to the sausage-seller's booth. "Now play," she whispered. "Brave tunes, happy tunes, hungry tunes!"

Dhrun began to play, at first slowly and carefully, then his fingers seemed to move of themselves and fairly flew over the stops, and from the instrument came a set of lovely skirling melodies. Folk stopped to listen; they gathered around the sausage-seller's stand, and many bought sausages, so that the vendor became very busy.

After a period Glyneth approached the sausage-seller. "Please, sir, may we too have sausages, since we are very hungry. After we eat, we'll play again."

"That is a good bargain from my standpoint." The sausage-seller fed them a meal of bread and fried sausages, then Dhrun played once more: jigs and jump-ups, merry wind-arounds, reels and hornpipes, to set the heels to twitching and the nose to trembling along the aroma of frying sausages, until, inside the hour, the sausage-seller had sold all his wares, whereupon Glyneth and Dhrun sidled inconspicuously away from the stand.

In the shadow of a nearby van stood a tall young man with strong wide shoulders, long legs, a long nose and clear gray eyes. Lank sand-colored hair hung to his ears, but he wore neither beard nor mustache. As Glyneth and Dhrun pa.s.sed by he stepped forward and accosted them.

"I have enjoyed your music," he told Dhrun. "Where did you learn such sleight?"

"It's a gift, sir, from the fairies of Thripsey Shee. They gave me the pipes, a purse of money, an amulet of bravery and seven years' bad luck. We've lost purse and amulet, but I still keep the pipes and the bad luck, which hangs on me like a bad smell."

"Thripsey Shee is far away, in Lyonesse. How did you arrive here?"

"We traveled through the great forest," said Glyneth. "Dhrun discovered some forest fairies; they were bathing and quite naked. They sent magic bees into his eyes and now he can't see, until we drive the bees away."

"And how do you propose to do that?"

"We have been advised to seek out Rhodion, king of the fairies, and seize his hat, which will force him to do our bidding."

"That is sound advice as far as it goes. But first you must find King Rhodion, which is not at all simple."

"He is said to frequent fairs: a merry gentleman in a green hat," said Glyneth. "That is something to start on."

"Yes indeed... Look! There goes one now! And here comes another!"

Glyneth said dubiously: "I don't think either of them is King Rhodion, certainly not the drunken man, even though he is the merrier of the two. In any case, we have other advice: to ask the aid of an arch-magician."

"Again the advice is easier spoken than acted upon. The magicians take pains to isolate themselves from what otherwise would be an endless stream of supplicants." Looking from one somber face to the other, he said: "Still, there may be a way to avoid these difficulties. Let me introduce myself. I am Doctor Fidelius. I travel Dahaut in this van which is drawn by two miraculous horses. The placard on the side explains my business."

Glyneth read: DOCTOR FIDELIUS.

Grand gnostic, seer, magician.

HEALER OF SORE KNEES.

... Mysteries a.n.a.lyzed and resolved: incantations uttered in known and unknown languages. ... Dealer in a.n.a.lgesics, salves, roborants and despumatics.

... Tinctures to relieve nausea, itch, ache, gripe, scurf, buboes, canker.

SORE KNEES A SPECIALTY.

Glyneth, looking back to Doctor Fidelius, asked tentatively: "Are you truly a magician?"

"Indeed I am," said Doctor Fidelius. "Watch this coin! I hold it in my hand, then presto and hey-nonny-no! Where does the coin go?" "Into your other hand."

"No. It is here on your shoulder. And look! Here is another on your other shoulder! What do you say to that!"

"Marvelous! Can you cure Dhrun's eyes?"

Doctor Fidelius shook his head. "But I know a magician who can and who, so I believe, will."

"Wonderful! Will you take us to him?"

Doctor Fidelius again shook his head. "Not now. I have urgent business in Dahaut which must be done. Then I will visit Murgen the magician."

Dhrun asked: "Could we find this magician without your help?"

"Never. The road is long and dangerous and he guards his privacy well."

Glyneth asked diffidently: "Is your business in Dahaut likely to take a very long time?"

"That is hard to say. Sooner or later a certain man will visit my van, and then..."

"'And then'?"

"I expect that we will visit Murgen the magician. Meanwhile you shall join my company. Dhrun shall play the pipes to attract customers, Glyneth will sell salves, powders and lucky charms, and I will watch the crowds."

"That is very generous of you," said Glyneth, "but neither Dhrun nor I have skill in medicine."

"No matter! I am a mountebank! My medicines are useless, but I sell them cheap and usually they work as well as if prescribed by Hyrcomus Galienus himself. Dismiss your qualms, if you have any. The profits are not large but always we will eat good food and drink good wine, and when the rain falls we shall be snug inside the van."

Dhrun said glumly, "I carry a fairy's curse of seven years' bad luck. It may well infect you and your undertakings."