Saraband for Two Sisters

“There’s nothing so stupid as shutting your eyes to facts simply because they’re unpleasant,” put in Bersaba, placing herself firmly on Bastian’s side. He smiled at her-a very special smile-and she glowed with pleasure. “The King is in disagreement with his ministers,” began Bastian. “My dear boy,” put in his father, “kings have been in disagreement with their ministers ever since there have been kings and ministers.”

“What other king ever dismissed his parliament and governed-or made some semblance of it-without one for how many years is it? Ten?”

“We haven’t noticed the change,” said Uncle Connell, laughing. “It’s coming,” replied Bastian. “The King believes he governs by God’s right and there will be people in the country to disagree with that.»

“Kings ... parliaments,” said Uncle Connell, “they seem to have one motive and that is to pile tax upon tax so that the people can pay for their fancies.»

“I thought that when Buckingham was murdered that would have changed the situation,” said my mother.

“No,” said Bastian. “It is the King himself who must change.”

“And will he?” asked Bersaba.

“He will ... or be deposed,” Bastian replied. “No king can continue to reign for long without the goodwill of his people.”

“Poor man,” said my mother. “How sad his life must be.” Uncle Connell laughed. “My dear Tamsyn,” he said, “the King cares little for the approval of the people. He cares little for the approval of his ministers. He is so sure that he is right, guided by God. Who knows, perhaps he is.»

“At least his home life is happier now,” said Aunt Melanie. “I believe it was far from that in the beginning. He is a good man and a good father, whatever kind of king he is.”

“It might be more important for him to be a good king,” murmured Bastian.

Rozen said: ‘They say the Queen is very lively. She loves dancing and fashions.”

“And meddling,” added Bastian.

“She is, after all, the Queen,” I said.

“Poor child,” put in my mother. “It must be a terrible ordeal to be sent away from home at sixteen-younger than you twins.” She smiled at us. “Imagine it... sent to a foreign land to a strange husband ... and she a Catholic and he King of a Protestant country. No wonder there was discord and misunderstanding between them. If they have at last come to understand each other let us be thankful and wish them happiness.»

“I do with all my heart,” Melanie supported her.

“They won’t find it until the King listens to his ministers and we have a parliament to make our laws,” said Bastian.

“We are so far from the Court,” said Melanie, “that what happens there hardly touches us. Why, we don’t even hear of it until months after it has happened!»

“Like the ripples on a pool, in due course they reach its edge,” Bastian reminded us.

“How is Grandfather Casvellyn?” asked my mother, changing the subject. “As usual,” answered Melanie. “He knows you are coming, so I suggest when we have finished at the table you go to see him. Otherwise he will complain that you have slighted him.”

My mother nodded and smiled.

“Melder will go up with you and she will see that you don’t stay too long.”

“He has been rather fractious today,” said Melder.

“Isn’t he always?” asked Connell.

“More so than usual,” answered Melder. “But he will be pleased to see you.” I smiled faintly and saw that Bersaba was doing the same. Neither of us could recall any occasion when our grandfather had shown his pleasure in our presence. Bersaba and my mother and I went out with Melder, and as we passed through the narrow corridor to the door which led from Nonna’s Tower to Seaward my hand was gripped in a firm grasp and my fingers pressed warmly. I turned. Bastian was beside me. There was some meaning in the pressure of his fingers.

Grandfather Casvellyn glowered at us as we entered. Although I was prepared for him and knew what he looked like, I always experienced a slight shock when I came face to face with him. His legs were always covered with a rug and I imagined that they would be terrible to behold, mangled as they had been. His shoulders were so broad and from his waist up he looked so powerful, which made it more of a tragedy. I often thought that if he had been a little man it wouldn’t have seemed so bad. He had the fiercest eyes I had ever seen. They seemed to start out of his head and the whites all round the pupil were visible. When he turned them upon me I felt as though I were facing Medusa and should not have been surprised to feel my limbs turning to stone. I would always think of the night he had gone out in a boat-strong and well, and been caught in those cruel Devil’s Teeth which had made of him the man he was. He turned his chair and wheeled it toward us.

“So you’re here,” he said, looking at my mother.