they of poictesme narrate that after dinner king raymond sent messengers to his wife, who was spending that christmas with their daughter, queen meregrett of france, to bid dame beatrice return as soon as might be convenient, so that they might marry off their daughter alianora to the famous count manuel. they tell also how the holiday season passed with every manner of festivity, and how dom manuel got on splendidly with his princess, and how it appeared to onlookers that for both of them, even for the vaguely condescending boy, love-making proved a very marvelous and dear pursuit.
dom manuel confessed, in reply to jealous questionings, that he did not think alianora quite so beautiful nor so clever as niafer had been, but this, as manuel pointed out, was hardly a matter which could be remedied. at all events, the princess was a fine-looking and intelligent girl, as dom manuel freely conceded to her: and the magic of the apsarasas, in which she was instructing him, dom manuel declared to be very interesting if you cared for that sort of thing.
the princess humbly admitted, in reply, that of course her magic did not compare with his, since hers was powerful only over the bodies of men and beasts, whereas dom manuel's magic had so notably controlled the hearts and minds of kings. still, as alianora pointed out, she could blight corn and cattle, and raise tempests very handily, and, given time, could smite an enemy with almost any physical malady you selected. she could not kill outright, to be sure, but even so, these lesser mischiefs were not despicable accomplishments in a young girl. anyhow, she said in peroration, it was atrocious to discourage her by laughing at the best she could do.
"ah, but come now, my dear," says manuel, "i was only teasing. i really think your work most promising. you have but to continue. practise, that is the thing, they say, in all the arts."
"yes, and with you to help me—"
"no, i have graver matters to attend to than devil-mongering," says manuel, "and a bond to lift from myself before i can lay miseries on others."
for because of the geas that was on him to make a figure in the world, dom manuel had unpacked his two images, and after vexedly considering them, he had fallen again to modeling in clay, and had made a third image. this image also was in the likeness of a young man, but it had the fine proud features and the loving look of alianora.
manuel confessed to being fairly well pleased with this figure, but even so, he did not quite recognize in it the figure he desired to make, and therefore, he said, he deduced that love was not the thing which was essential to him.
alianora did not like the image at all.
"to have made an image of me," she considered, "would have been a very pretty compliment. but when it comes to pulling about my features, as if they did not satisfy you, and mixing them up with your features, until you have made the appearance of a young man that looks like both of us, it is not a compliment. instead, it is the next thing but one to egotism."
"perhaps, now i think of it, i am an egotist. at all events, i am manuel."
"nor, dearest," says she, "is it quite befitting that you, who are now betrothed to a princess, and who are going to be lord of provence and king of arles, as soon as i can get rid of father, should be always messing with wet mud."
"i know that very well," manuel replied, "but, none the less, a geas is on me to honor my mother's wishes, and to make an admirable and significant figure in the world. apart from that, though, alianora, i repeat to you, this scheme of yours, about poisoning your father as soon as we are married, appears to me for various reasons ill-advised. i am in no haste to be king of arles, and, in fact, i am not sure that i wish to be king at all, because my geas is more important."
"sweetheart, i love you very much, but my love does not blind me to the fact that, no matter, what your talents at sorcery, you are in everyday matters a hopelessly unpractical person. do you leave this affair to me, and i will manage it with every regard to appearances."
"ah, and does one have to preserve appearances even in such matters as parricide?"
"but certainly it looks much better for father to be supposed to die of indigestion. people would be suspecting all sorts of evil of the poor dear if it were known that his own daughter could not put up with him. in any event, sweetheart, i am resolved that, since very luckily father has no sons, you shall be king of arles before this new year is out."
"no, i am manuel: and it means more to me to be manuel than to be king of arles, and count of provence, and seneschal of aix and brignoles and grasse and massilia and draguignan and so on."
"oh, you are breaking my heart with this neglect of your true interests! and it is all the doing of these three vile images, which you value more than the old throne of boson and rothbold, and oceans more than you do me!"
"come, i did not say that."
"yes, and you think, too, a deal more about that dead heathen servant girl than you do about me, who am a princess and the heir to a kingdom."
manuel looked at alianora for a considerable while, before speaking. "my dear, you are, as i have always told you, an unusually fine looking and intelligent girl. and yes, you are a princess, of course, though you are no longer the unattainable princess: that makes a difference certainly—but, over and above all this, there was never anybody like niafer, and it would be nonsense to pretend otherwise."
the princess said: "i wonder at myself. you are schooled in strange sorceries unknown to the apsarasas, there is no questioning that, after the miracles you wrought with helmas and ferdinand: even so, i too have a neat hand at magic, and it is not right for you to be treating me as though i were the dirt under your feet. and i endure it! it is that which puzzles me, it makes me wonder at myself, and my sole comfort is that, at any rate, this wonderful niafer of yours is dead and done with."
manuel sighed. "yes, niafer is dead, and these images also are dead things, and both these facts continually trouble me. nothing can be done about niafer, i suppose, but if only i could give some animation to these images i think the geas upon me would be satisfied."
"such a desire is blasphemous, manuel, for the eternal father did no more than that with his primal sculptures in eden."
dom manuel blinked his vivid blue eyes as if in consideration. "well, but," he said, gravely, "but if i am a child of god it is only natural, i think, that i should inherit the tastes and habits of my father. no, it is not blasphemous, i think, to desire to make an animated and lively figure, somewhat more admirable and significant than that of the average man. no, i think not. anyhow, blasphemous or not, that is my need, and i must follow after my own thinking and my own desire."
"if that desire were satisfied," asks alianora, rather queerly, "would you be content to settle down to some such rational method of living as becomes a reputable sorcerer and king?"
"i think so, for a king has no master, and he is at liberty to travel everywhither, and to see the ends of this world and judge them. yes, i think so, in a world wherein nothing is certain."
"if i but half way believed that, i would endeavor to obtain schamir."
"and what in the devil is this schamir?"
"a slip of the tongue," replied alianora, smiling. "no, i shall have nothing to do with your idiotic mud figures, and i shall tell you nothing further."
"come now, pettikins!" says manuel. and he began coaxing the princess of provence with just such cajoleries as the big handsome boy had formerly exercised against the peasant girls of rathgor.
"schamir," said alianora, at last, "is set in a signet ring which is very well known in the country on the other side of the fire. schamir has the appearance of a black pebble; and if, after performing the proper ceremonies, you were to touch one of these figures with it the figure would become animated."
"well, but," says manuel, "the difficulty is that if i attempt to pass through the fire in order to reach the country behind it, i shall be burned to a cinder, and so i have no way of obtaining this talisman."
"in order to obtain it," alianora told him, "one must hard-boil an egg from the falcon's nest, then replace it in the nest, and secrete oneself near by with a crossbow, under a red and white umbrella, until the mother bird, finding one of her eggs resists all her endeavors to infuse warmth into it, flies off, and plunges into the nearest fire, and returns with this ring in her beak. with schamir she will touch the boiled egg, and so restore the egg to its former condition. at that moment she must be shot, and the ring must be secured, before the falcon can return the talisman to its owner. i mean, to its dreadful owner, who is"—here alianora made an incomprehensible sign,—"who is queen freydis of audela."
"come," said manuel, "what is the good of my knowing this in the dead of winter! it will be months before the falcons are nesting again."
"manuel, manuel, there is no understanding you! do you not see how badly it looks for a grown man, and far more for a famed champion and a potent sorcerer, to be pouting and scowling and kicking your heels about like that, and having no patience at all?"
"yes, i suppose it does look badly, but i am manuel, and i follow—"
"oh, spare me that," cried alianora, "or else, no matter how much i may love you, dearest, i shall box your jaws!"
"none the less, what i was going to say is true," declared manuel, "and if only you would believe it, matters would go more smoothly between us."
