She was dirty and sweaty from working in the garden, but not much less beautiful for that. But it seemed odd that he did not recognize her; the wizard hired his human servants from among the peasants within a few miles of Harold’s farm, and Rodric knew everyone living in that region.

When she raised her eyes from the bush and saw him, she called out, “Help me!”

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During the reign of King Piers the Lethargic, a peasant farmer named Rodric lived with his aged mother on a small farm near the great forest at the southern edge of the kingdom. He was the youngest of his mother’s children; his sisters were all married, and his father and brothers had all gone off to fight in King Leander’s wars, one after another, and all had died. His mother, whose health was failing, often told him that he should marry soon, and he was not averse to doing so, but he had not made up his mind which of the marriageable girls in the neighborhood he would start courting.

One day in the spring of the fifteenth year of the reign of King Piers, Rodric was sowing barley in his north field, the one nearest the main road, when a mounted knight came along and hailed him. The last time Rodric had seen an armed man was when the Duke’s tax-collector made his rounds, the previous autumn, accompanied by his body-guard. The last time he had seen a knight was when he was ten years old and Sir Thomas of Eastwall came to this far southern province, recruiting peasants for the army; Rodric’s last brother, Vincent, had gone off with him and never returned.

Rodric knew approximately what he was supposed to do in this circumstance; he set down his bag of seed, approached the roadside, and knelt. “Sir knight, how may I serve?”

“Do you know where is the home of the wizard who is supposed to live hereabouts?”

“Indeed, sir knight. You are not far from it, but you are going the wrong way. You should turn and go back eastward along this road; then, when you get to the third crossroad — or is the fourth? I cannot recall for sure; but in any event you will know it is the one because it has a cornfield on the northeast corner, the other three being planted in barley. If you get to the crossroad where there are houses on all four corners, you’ve gone too far. Turn right, and after half a mile or so there will be a foot-path on your left between Daniel’s barley field and Harold’s turnip field. You will know Daniel’s farm because his barn is larger and closer to the road than his neighbors'; he is very proud of it. The foot-path will take you to the forest and into it. It becomes twisty once it enters the forest, but you will know your way by the notches cut into the trees at the height of a man’s eyes. A man on foot, I should say. The path will lead to a clearing with an oak stump in the middle. Sitting on the stump is a bell; ring the bell three times and say what your business with the wizard is. Then look for the paths out of the clearing, and take the third path on your left from the one you entered by. Again, look for the notches cut into the trees when the path grows unclear. You will pass through two more clearings. One has a wooden shed in it; take off your weapons and armor and leave them in the shed. They will be protected by the wizard, so no one can steal them while you are meeting with him. From that clearing, take the second path to your right. A stream runs through the third clearing, and there is a wide pool; toss a coin into the pool, or —” He was about to say what the knight should do if he had no money, but looking at his gleaming armor and the jewels his horse was ornamented with, he thought this unnecessary. “Then ford the stream above the pool and take the first path on your left, which will eventually emerge into the largest clearing, where the wizard’s palace and gardens are situated.”

The knight was not wearing his helmet, which was hanging from his saddle, and Rodric could see that his face wore a confused expression.

“Perhaps it were best if you came with me and instructed me,” the knight said. “You need not accompany me all the way to the wizard’s ‘palace’.” He gave this last word a sardonic inflection, and Rodric wondered why.

“I hear and obey,” Rodric said, looking sadly at his bag of seed and at the house where his mother would be expecting him to dinner long before he could guide the knight to the wizard’s palace and return home. They told each other their names; the knight was Sir Hugh.

The knight did not offer to let Rodric ride with him, and Rodric was grateful for that. He walked alongside the knight’s horse, which ambled at an easy pace back up the road, to the crossroad (it turned out to be the fourth), and then to the footpath between Daniel’s and Harold’s farms.

They met Daniel and his eldest sons, who were sowing in the part of the field nearest the forest. Daniel set down his bag of seed and knelt, and his sons followed his example. “Rise,” said the knight; “Continue with your work. I hope to have good news for you soon.”

This piqued Rodric’s curiosity, but he still felt it might be unwise to ask the knight what his business was with the wizard. If he himself were to pass by on his way to ask the wizard for medicine for his old mother, or for a charm to keep the beetles off his corn, Daniel or Harold would ask frankly why he was passing that way, and he would cheerfully tell them, and they would likely pass half an hour talking about their families and neighbors before he would go on into the forest. But somehow asking questions of the knight seemed like a bad idea. Anyway, if the knight wanted his assistance even as far as the first clearing, he would hear him announce his business after ringing the bell.

They arrived in due course at the stump with the bell. But Sir Hugh simply asked him which path they should take from there.

“You must ring the bell first, sire,” Rodric said, “three times, and then say what your business is with the wizard.”

“I don’t wish to announce my coming,” the knight said. “Which path, peasant?”

“But, sire —” Rodric said, stepping backward in case the knight should grow angry; “— if you don’t ring the bell, the wizard’s palace may not be there. The paths don’t always lead to the same place.”

“Very well,” the knight said. “Hand me the bell.” Rodric did so, though he wasn’t sure if having two people handle it might not ruin the pathfinding magic.

The knight paused, then rang the bell three times and said: “I desire to have an enchantment of perpetual sharpness placed on my sword.” Then he handed the bell back to Rodric, who replaced it on the stump, and led the way into the next path. He felt uneasy, nearly certain that the knight had lied about his reason for seeking the wizard, and wondering if the wizard would punish him along with the knight for this deception. Surely not, he decided; the wizard had a reputation for fairness, though he was harsh with those who tried to double-cross him. He would know that this was not Rodric’s fault.

At the second clearing, the knight refused to remove his armor and weapons and place them in the shed. “I can hardly ask the wizard to enchant my sword if I don’t bring it to him, can I?”

“He could bring it to his palace from here by magic, sire,” Rodric said, “but if you don’t remove your weapons and armor, the path may not lead us to his palace at all.”

“We will take that risk,” the knight said. “Lead on.”

Rodric feared that, if the wizard were paying attention to events here, the next path might go in circles and never lead them to the next clearing or back to this one. But his fears were unfounded. They reached the clearing around the pool in the stream, and he reminded the knight to throw a coin in the pool. The knight did so without a word, and Rodric led him around the pool to the final path.

“This path will lead you to the wizard’s palace, sire,” he said, “at least if the wizard is not angry about you not removing your weapons and armor.”

“Very good,” the knight said. “You need come no further. And after today, you need fear the wizard no more.”

Fear the wizard? What was the knight talking about? But he went on:

“I have slain four trolls, two ogres, one dragon (in company with two other good knights, to be sure), and two wizards besides this one. This rebel against King Piers will trouble the peasants hereabout with demands for tribute no more after today.”

Rodric almost laughed, and carefully suppressed this reaction, feigning a cough. He wondered whether it would be wiser to warn the knight, or to let the wizard deal with him in his own way. He decided on the more merciful, though dangerous, course.

“Sir knight,” he said, “the wizard who lives in this forest is older and more powerful than all the other wizards I have ever heard tell of. And besides, he does good things for us in return for his small share of our crops and herds; my grandmother told me that our fields did not yield half so much, nor our herds multiply half so fast, before the wizard settled in this neighborhood.” He thought, but did not say, that they got better value for the wizard’s tenth of their harvest than for the Duke’s tenth or the Church’s tenth.

“Nonetheless he is a rebel against King Piers and the Duke of the Marches, practicing sorcery and demanding tribute of the Duke’s vassals contrary to law. And I have here,” he said, pulling a jeweled reliquary from his saddle-bag, “a finger-bone of St. Gregory Thaumaturgus, which was very effective against the other wizards I’ve fought. Go home, peasant.”

Rodric bowed and returned the way he had come. It was not his fault if the knight would not listen.

Rodric heard nothing more of the knight. The next time he went into the village, he happened to meet Daniel, who asked him about the knight he had seen him with. Rodric told the sad story, and Daniel shook his head.

A month later, Rodric’s mother grew sick again, and Rodric set out to ask the wizard for medicine. Each time, the medicine restored her health for a shorter time than before, but he hoped she would live a few more years, long enough to see him married and father of one or two children. He exchanged only a few words with Harold and his son Mark, who was hoeing in the turnip field, and pressed on into the forest. He rang the bell and announced his business, then set his small knife down in the wooden shed — he could have left it at home, but people said it was wiser to bring a token weapon and lay it aside on approaching the wizard’s palace. Into the pool he tossed the small coin he had brought — he was poor enough that the wizard would probably not blame him for tossing in a crumb of barley bread, as many of his neighbors did, but he was proud enough that he always brought a coin. Then he followed the final path, which was so twisty that it seemed it ought to cross itself many times, but did not, and came to the garden outside the wizard’s palace.

There were fruits growing in the wizard’s garden that were not in season yet elsewhere in the kingdom, and others that would not grow at all nearer than two hundred miles to the south, and others still that Rodric had never heard of growing anywhere. Rodric knew better than to pick them; sometimes the wizard sent gifts of fruit to the peasants living near the forest, and sometimes he offered some to those who came to see him. Approaching the main door of the palace, Rodric passed a strawberry patch, a grove of orange trees, and a few bushes bearing a yellow bulbous fruit that Rodric didn’t recognize and didn’t remember seeing on his previous visits. He stopped, seeing a girl picking these fruit and collecting them in a basket. She was dirty and sweaty from working in the garden, but not much less beautiful for that. But it seemed odd that he did not recognize her; the wizard hired his human servants from among the peasants within a few miles of Harold’s farm, and Rodric knew everyone living in that region.

When she raised her eyes from the bush and saw him, she called out, “Help me!”

“Certainly, miss,” he said, stepping a little closer. “Do you need me to help carry the basket to the palace kitchen, or...?”

“No,” she said; “You know more about the wizard’s magic than I do; perhaps you can help me escape...”

“Escape?” he asked. “Why not just ask for your wages and go?”

“I am under an enchantment; I cannot leave the palace and garden. The wizard gives me no more than room and board.”

That surprised Rodric greatly. When his sister Evaine had been a servant to the wizard for two years before her marriage, he had paid her good wages, and she was allowed to return home every Sunday, usually with a basket of delicious out-of-season fruit; and when she left his service to marry Tully, he had given her a set of enchanted hair-ribbons. He had never heard of any other servant of the wizard being treated worse.

“Who are you, and how did you come to be under such an enchantment?”

She cast down her eyes and said, “You know me — I am — I was —” Each time she started a sentence, she seemed to choke slightly, unable to finish it. She paused and caught her breath, then said: “I looked different when you saw me last. Ah! I can say that. Let’s see: I used to be —” She choked again. “Let me try something else...” She drew a sewing needle from where it was pinned into the right sleeve of her blouse, and said: “You warned me to lay this aside in the shed, but I refused.”

“I don’t recall...”

“This needle used to be — It was —”

As she was catching her breath after this attempt, Rodric realized what she was trying to say. “The needle was not always a needle? It was, perhaps, a sword?”

She started to say something, choked, and nodded.

“Then you are Sir Hugh?”

She nodded again, apparently not trusting herself to speak.

“Well. The wizard was more merciful to you than I expected.”

“Merciful?” she asked. “How is this mercy?”

“Well, the oldest of those orange trees yonder was once another man who tried to kill him, when my father was a boy. If you’ve been serving him for a month, you’ve probably seen, and perhaps been called upon to dust and polish, some statues which tried to kill him when they were men. And most of the others who’ve tried were simply never heard of again. So you were really very lucky... though I suppose you don’t feel lucky.”

“Indeed I do not. Can you help me escape? If I could but reach a holy place, surely it would break the enchantment — any church might do, but if not, then I will make a pilgrimage to the shrine of St. Gregory Thaumaturgus, or to Rome or Jerusalem if need be. But by my own power I cannot even leave the wizard’s palace.”

Rodric looked at her and thought. “I will do what I can,” he said, “which is not much. You must promise to show no surprise, whatever I say or do.”

“I promise,” she said.

“Has the wizard given you a new name? You were unable, just now, to tell me the name you had before...”

“Yes; he calls me Melisande.”

“Very well; I will try to help you.”

So Rodric went on from the garden to the front door of the palace, and rang the bell. Another of the wizard’s servants opened the door and admitted him; it was young Cedric, Guillaume’s son.

“Hello, Rodric,” he said. “Here to see the wizard?”

“Yes,” Rodric said. As Cedric led him to the audience chamber, he asked: “Who is the new girl picking fruit in the garden?”

“Oh, that is Melisande,” Cedric said, and laughed. “I do not know if I should tell you about her. You can ask the wizard, if you like. She can tell you nothing herself.”

Cedric left him in the audience chamber, and said he would tell the wizard of his presence. Rodric sat on one of the benches and looked around the room. Perhaps half an hour passed before the wizard entered; Rodric, seeing him, stood and bowed.

“Hello, Rodric,” the wizard said. He did not sit in his ornate chair, but approached Rodric and sat on one of the benches in the corner. Rodric sat across from him.

“So, your mother is ill again?” the wizard asked.

“Yes, my lord,” Rodric said. He described her symptoms, which were much the same as before. The wizard nodded, and proffered a small glass bottle containing a dense blue liquid. “Have your mother swallow one drop every morning and night for nine days,” he said.

“Thank you, my lord,” Rodric said. He hesitated, unsure whether or how to speak of Melisande. The wizard looked at him for a long moment after he handed him the medicine, and said:

“I think this medicine will help your mother, but it will not make her live forever. I cannot make myself live forever, still less others. If you want her to see your children, you should be thinking of getting married soon.”

Rodric stammered, unsure of what he meant to say, and then fell silent. An idea occurred to him.

“Your new servant Melisande,” he said. “I spoke with her in the garden...”

“Yes?” the wizard asked, with a smile. Rodric wondered how much he knew, whether he had heard their conversation by his magic.

“If I were to ask her to be my wife, would you object?”

The wizard smiled more broadly than ever. “You would have my blessing.” He clapped his hands, and that very moment Melisande stood beside them, looking startled. The wizard asked her to sit; she sat down on the same bench as Rodric, but not close to him, spreading her skirts awkwardly as she did so.

“Rodric has something he would like to say,” he said.

Rodric paused, weighing his words. “Melisande,” he said, “will you leave the wizard’s service and be my wife?”

She looked startled again, and more than a little frightened; but this look passed, and she said: “Yes, willingly I will go to the church with you.” She smiled, and Rodric smiled back. Then she frowned and asked the wizard, “If, my lord, I may go...?”

“With my blessing,” he said. “Go and pack your things; you may leave today. This young man’s mother is still living, so there will be no scandal if you live with him before your marriage; she can be your chaperon.”

She rose, curtsied awkwardly (it seemed that she started to bow and remembered after a moment), and left the room.

“I don’t know how much this girl told you of herself,” the wizard said, “but it cannot have been much, I think. I found her wandering in the forest some distance from here, hungry and thirsty, her garments and her skin torn by briers, and I brought her home and gave her new clothes and a place to live. When she first arrived, she had a tendency to become distracted and wander aimlessly; I put a protective enchantment on her to keep her close to the palace, so that she should not get lost in the forest again. I think she came from some village to the south, on the far side of the forest, but I do not know for sure. She could tell me nothing but her name; she grows distressed when anyone asks her about her past. I suggest you refrain from asking her questions, therefore.”

“I shall,” Rodric said.

They sat there in silence for a few moments before Melisande returned, holding a small bag. Old Guillaume, the wizard’s steward, entered the room just at the same time, by another door, carrying a bag.

“I am ready,” Melisande said.

“Farewell,” said the wizard. “Guillaume, count out Melisande’s wages for the last month. Tell me when you know the day you will be married. I cannot attend the ceremony itself, but will send gifts for the wedding feast. And later on, I hope to send gifts for your children as well.” As he spoke, the steward bowed and counted out several copper coins into Melisande’s hands.

“We shall send word after we speak to the priest about the wedding,” Rodric said, uneasily. He rose and bowed low; then he and Melisande left the audience chamber. They did not speak until they reached the edge of the garden, where the path through the forest began. On the threshold of the path Melisande hesitated — then stepped onto it — then took another step, and dashed ahead, Rodric running after her. After a few steps she paused and laughed.

“So this was your plan,” she said. “It’s clever, but I was worried for a moment when you first spoke. Then I realized that when we go to the church, the enchantment will be broken.”

“Let us hope,” he said. “If not, I will find a way to get you safely on the road to a more powerful shrine.”

They spoke little as they wended the first twisty path to the pool. When they crossed the stream, he said:

“The wizard told me a story about you — that he had found you wandering in the woods, and that you could not remember anything but your name...”

“That is the story he told the other servants about me, after he —” She choked, unable to say what she had intended.

“After he changed you?” Rodric asked, and she nodded. “Then none of the wizard’s other servants saw what happened when you met the wizard?”

She shook her head. “After I... arrived in his house, he kept me locked in a small room for two days before he let me out and introduced me to the other servants.”

“Well, we shall tell the same story to my mother, and to the priest, and to anyone else who asks — that you are probably from the land south of the forest, but that you cannot remember how you came to be near the wizard’s palace, or anything before you arrived there.”

“Yes.”

They passed the weapon shed, where Rodric retrieved his knife; passed the stump with the bell; and emerged from the forest onto the path between Daniel’s and Harold’s fields. Daniel and his sons were working in the field near the path, and Daniel came over to greet them.

“Good morning, Rodric,” he said. “Who is this young woman?”

“My betrothed, Melisande,” Rodric said. “She has been working as a servant in the wizard’s palace for some time. The wizard found her wandering in the forest, having lost her memory of all but her name.”

“A great misfortune!” said Daniel. “But being found by the wizard, rather than by a bear or wolf, was a turn for the better; and being Rodric’s wife will be another, I expect.” Melisande smiled nervously.

“We must return home,” Rodric said; “my mother is in need of the wizard’s medicine.” They left Daniel’s farm, and followed again the road that Rodric had traversed on foot following Sir Hugh and his mount. What had happened to his horse, Rodric wondered, and to his armor, when he became Melisande and his sword had become a sewing needle? He could hardly ask her; she seemed incapable of talking about her past life, or about how she had changed.

They met two others of Rodric’s neighbors working in their fields near the road, and stopped briefly to talk, but Rodric frustrated their curiosity about Melisande by insisting that they must get home to deliver the medicine to his mother. At last they arrived at Rodric’s farm and walked up the path through the barley field to the house.

It was a single room, more than large enough for the bed, table, and two stools which were its only furniture. The few other articles of furniture it had once held had gone to the homes of Rodric’s sisters over the years. Rodric’s mother was not in bed, as he had left her, but sitting by the fire cooking a porridge.

“Good day, Mother,” Rodric said. “I hope you are feeling better?”

“Just a hair, just a hair,” she said, looking up. “Who is this?”

“This is Melisande, Mother. I met her where she was serving in the wizard’s palace. Here is your medicine, by the bye,” he said, taking the bottle of medicine from his pouch. “If we’ve your consent, we’ll go to the priest tomorrow and talk with him about when we may be married.”

She studied Melisande with a critical air. “Who are your family, girl? I don’t know of a Melisande in these parts. It’s a fine lady’s name, I’m thinking.”

Melisande looked desperately at Rodric, who came to her rescue. “We think she’s from the south side of the forest, Mother; but we don’t know. She can’t remember a thing before the wizard found her lost in the forest and took her in as one of his servants. She takes nervous if you ask her about her past; so if you don’t, we’ll be best pleased.”

Rodric watched as his mother continued to study Melisande’s face and form. He tried to look as nervous as he would be if he were bringing home his real intended for his mother’s approval. Of course, if his mother disapproved of Melisande, it made no great difference; he could escort her to the church the next day nonetheless, and most likely that would be the end of the enchantment and of his involvement with Sir Hugh. If not, she would leave and go on a pilgrimage, and again he would see no more of her, or she of him. Actually, he hoped that his mother would disapprove of her somehow; people would talk about him for years if he were betrothed to her and then she changed into a man the first time she entered the church, or even if she simply ran away before the wedding.

“You’ll do,” his mother said to Melisande finally. “I don’t know why my son is so particular that he won’t marry one of the neighbor girls that he’s known all his life, but I’m too old to wait longer for him to marry and give me grandchildren. So if the priest tells you two different days he can marry you, pick the earliest one, do you hear?”

Melisande smiled nervously. “We will,” Rodric said.

“Well,” his mother said, “were the wizard’s instructions the same as usual?”

“They were.”

Without another word she opened the bottle, let a single drop fall into her mouth, and then stoppered the bottle again.

“The porridge is ready,” she said. “You may eat before you go back to the field.”