Tales of the Dying Earth (100 page)

Rhialto uttered a grim laugh and stepped up on the dais beside Ildefonse. "Any who wish may go to Fader's Waft and test Hache-Moncour's didactic theories at their leisure. I am going now to consult the Adjudicator. Let no one think to test his magic against me! I did not leave all my spells at Falu, and I am protected in dimension."

Byzant the Necrope took exception to the remark. "Rhialto, you are contentious! Must the Adjudicator be troubled by every trifling snit and swivet? Be large, Rhialto!"

"Good advice!" declared Rhialto. "I shall solicit mercy for you at Fader's Waft. Ildefonse, the 'Bill of Accusations,' if you please! The Adjudicator will also need this list of names."

Hache-Moncour spoke politely: "Since Rhialto is determined, I must warn him of the dangers he will incur at Fader's Waft. They are large indeed!"

"How so?" asked Ildefonse. "Where and how does Rhialto face danger?"

"Is it not clear? The Monstrament states that any person who presents an altered or damaged copy of the Blue Principles in the effort to prove a case at law is guilty of a Schedule H crime and must be expunged. Rhialto, I reluctantly must declare, has today committed such a crime which vitiates his entire case. He will go before the Adjudicator at peril to his life."

Rhialto frowned down at his copy of the Monstrament. ' I see no such interdict here. Please indicate the passage which you are citing."

Hache-Moncour took a quick step backward. ' 'If I did so, I would then become guilty of the identical crime we are now discussing. The passage perhaps has been elided by the damage."

"Most peculiar," said Rhialto.

Herark spoke out. "Rhialto, your accusations have been voided by this new crime, and your claims must now be abandoned. Ildefonse, I move that the meeting be adjourned."

"Not so fast," said Ildefonse. "We are suddenly faced with a most complex matter. I suggest that, in view of Hache-Moncour's exposition, we send a committee to Fader's Waft, consisting, let us say, of myself, Eshmiel, Barbanikos, and perhaps Hache-Moncour, there to study the Monstrament quietly and carefully, without reference to our little troubles."

"I will meet you there," said Rhialto. "Even if Hache-Moncour's recollection is correct, which I doubt, I have not quoted from the damaged Monstrament and so am innocent."

"Not so!" declared Hache-Moncour. "You just now examined your spurious document and used it to dispute my statement. Your crime takes precedence and you will be expunged before uttering the first of your charges, which thereupon become moot. Return at this instant to Falu! We will ascribe your conduct to mental disorder."

Ildefonse spoke wearily: "This advice, no matter how well-meant, clearly lacks persuasion. Therefore, as Preceptor, I rule that all present shall go now to Fader's Waft, there to inspect the Monstrament. Our purposes are informational only; we will not disturb the Adjudicator. Come, then! All to Fader's Waft! We will ride in my commodious whirl-away."

Ildefonse's majestic whirlaway flew southward, into a region of low rolling hills at the southern edge of Ascolais. Certain of the magicians strolled the upper promenade, intent upon the far vistas of air and cloud; others kept to the lower deck that they might overlook the lands below; still others preferred the leather-cushioned comfort of the saloon.

The time was close upon evening; the near-horizontal light spread odd patterns of red and black shadow across the landscape; Fader's Waft, a hillock somewhat higher and more massive than its fellows, loomed ahead.

The whirlaway settled upon the summit, which, exposed to the draughts of Fader the west wind, was bare and stony. Alighting from the vehicle, the magicians marched across a circular terrace to a six-sided structure roofed with tiles of blue gold.

Rhialto had visited Fader's Waft on a single other occasion, for reasons of simple curiosity. The west wind Fader flapped his cloak as he approached the fane; entering the vestibule he waited for his eyes to adapt to the gloom, then stepped forward into the central chamber.

A pedestal supported the Egg: a spheroid three feet across the widest diameter. A window at one end displayed the Perciplex, a blue prism four inches tall, inwardly engraved with the text of the Monstrament. Through the window the Perciplex projected an image of the Monstrament in legible characters upon a vertical dolomite slab, and so charged with magic was the Perciplex that should an earthquake or other shock cause it to topple, it must right itself immediately, so that it should never present a faulty image, or one which might be misconstrued, to the viewer.

So it had been; so it was now.

Ildefonse led the way across the terrace, with Hache-Moncour, erect and controlled in his movements on one side, and on the other Hurtiancz in full gesticulation. Behind came the others in a hurrying clot, with Rhialto sauntering disdainfully alone at the rear.

Into the vestibule marched the group, and into the central chamber. Rhialto at the rear heard Hache-Moncour's voice raised in sudden shock and dismay, followed by a mingling of other astonished voices.

Pressing forward, Rhialto saw all as he remembered from his previous visit: pedestal supporting Judicial Egg, Perciplex glowing blue, and the projection of the Monstrament upon the dolomite slab. Today, however, there was a note-worthy difference: the text of the Monstrament appeared in reverse or mirror-image, upon the dolomite slab.

Rhialto felt a sudden flicker across his consciousness, and almost instantly he heard Ildefonse's roar of protest. "Impropriety, bad faith! The monitor shows a hiatus
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! Who would so dare to work a spell on us?"

"This is an outrage!" declared Hache-Moncour. "Whoever is the guilty party, let him step forward and explain his conduct!"

No one replied to the challenge, but Mune the Mage cried out in wonder: "The Monstrament! Was it not in reverse? It now seems in correct condition!"

"Odd!" said Ildefonse. "Most odd!"

Hache-Moncour looked angrily around the company. "These sly tricks are intolerable! They besmirch the dignity of us all! In due course I will personally investigate the case, but as of now our business is the tragic determination of Rhialto's guilt. Let us study the Monstrament."

Rhialto spoke in a voice of icy politeness: "Are you not ignoring a most remarkable fact? The Monstrament was projected in reverse."

Hache-Moncour looked back and forth between Rhialto and the Monstrament in puzzled inquiry. "It seems now as steadfast as ever! I suspect that your eyes played you false; entering darkness from the daylight is often confusing. Now then! With true sorrow I call attention to this passage in Section 3, Paragraph D, which reads—"

"One moment," said Ildefonse. "I too saw the reverse projection. Am I also confused?"

Hache-Moncour gave a light laugh. "Such little errors betoken neither degeneracy nor turpitude; perhaps for your lunch you enjoyed a surfeit of plum-pickle, or took a mug too many of your excellent sub-cellar ale! Ha ho! Dyspepsia is the plight of many strong men! Shall we proceed with our business?"

"By no means!" declared Ildefonse in brusque tones. "We shall return to Boumergarth for a fuller investigation of what at every turn becomes a more mystifying situation."

Amid a subdued murmur of conversation, the magicians departed the fane. Rhialto, who had paused to inspect the Egg, held Ildefonse back until they were alone. "You may be interested to learn that this is not even the authentic Perciplex. It is a forgery."

"What!" cried Ildefonse. "Surely you are mistaken!"

"Look for yourself. This prism is too small for the housing. The workmanship is crude. Most significant of all, the true Perciplex could never project in reverse. Watch now! I will shake the Egg and topple the prism. The true Perciplex will right itself."

Rhialto jarred the Egg with such effect that the Perciplex fell to its side, in which position it remained.

Ildefonse faced the Egg. "Adjudicator! Speak! It is Ildefonse the Preceptor who commands!"

No reply was audible.

Once again Ildefonse called out: "Adjudicator! Sarsem! I charge you: speak!"

Again, silence.

Ildefonse turned away. "Back to Boumergarth. The mystery is compounded. It is no longer trivial."

"Never was it trivial," said Rhialto.

"No matter," said Ildefonse curtly. "The affair, now that it concerns me, has taken on a new and large dimension. To Boumergarth!"

Assembling again in the grand hall, the magicians set up a colloquy of many voices. Ildefonse for a time listened to the somewhat formless interchanges without comment, darting his pale blue eyes from face to face and giving an occasional tug to his untidy beard.

The discussions began to grow heated. Vehement in his wrath was Haze of Wheary Water: a hot-eyed little wefkin who affected a green pelt and a thatch of yellow will-leaves in the place of hair. Moving with irregular starts and jerks, he asserted his opinions with ever-increasing agitation. "Willy-nilly, backwards, forwards, the Blue is the Blue! As Hache-Moncour averred, the text condemns Rhialto's conduct out of hand, and that is all we care about. I will gladly stand on my head to read such news, or look through a mirror, or peek from behind my handkerchief!" And Haze spoke on, ever more fervently, until the company began to fear that he might injure himself in a paroxysm, or even blurt out some terrible all-inclusive curse to disable everyone. Ildefonse finally invoked the Spell of Soft Silence, so that while Haze ranted as before, his voice no longer could be heard, not even by himself, and presently he returned to his place.

The corpulent and loose-featured Dulce-Lolo analyzed the peculiar reversal of the projection. "I suspect that Sarsem the Adjudicator became careless and allowed the Perciplex to project in reverse, then, observing our consternation, he brought a hiatus upon us and turned the Perciplex to its proper position."

Ildefonse stepped ponderously up on the dais. "I must make an important announcement. The prism you saw tonight is false: a fraud, a forgery. The question of reversal is irrelevant."

Darvilk the Miaanther, normally taciturn, emitted an angry cry. "Then why did you, in full and pompous authority, dragoon us and march us lock-step to Fader's Waft, if only to inspect what you claim to be a falsity?"

Shrue spoke out. "The Miaanther's question strikes the nail! Ildefonse, your conduct merits a reproach."

Ildefonse held his arms high. "The group is not addressing itself to the issue! I repeat again: the Monstrament, the basis of our association, is missing from the Judicial Egg! We are left without law; we are naked as the Egg itself to that faceless shape which walks among us! We cannot dare the duration of a day without undertaking strategies of protection."

Hache-Moncour said with a gentle smile: "Ildefonse, dear friend! Must you cry cataclysm in such wild despair? Our association is based on the wisdom of its members!"

Vermoulian the Dream-walker said: "I predict a simple explanation to the apparent mystery. Sarsem may have removed the Perciplex for cleaning and left a simulacrum temporarily in place."

"This must indeed be the explanation," said Hache-Moncour. "Meanwhile, the simulacrum can be used at need."

"Precisely so!" cried Hurtiancz. "And never forget that, in making use of this version, simulacrum though it may be, we shackle the animal ferocity of Rhialto, and quell his insensate demands."

Ildefonse struck his gavel upon the podium. "Hurtiancz, your remarks are out of order. If you recall, Rhialto staunchly defended his conduct, and where this was impossible, he simply denied it."

Hurtiancz muttered: "I only give tongue to the consensus."

"Your remarks are not appropriate at this time. Rhialto, you have spoken no word: what is your opinion?"

"I am not yet ready to speak."

"Shrue, what of you?"

"Only this: lacking the true Monstrament, all issues of legality must be held in abeyance. Practically, the 'status quo' must be considered as definite and final."

"Nahourezzin: what are your thoughts?"

Nahourezzin, known in Old Romarth as "the Striped Sadwan," already was pondering the possible courses of the future. "If the Per-ciplex is indeed gone, then, using the simulacrum as a basis, we must create a new Monstrament, to be known as the Orange Principles."

"Or the Lime-green," suggested Dulce-Lolo. "Or even the Rose-purple, to suggest both splendour and pomp."

"The suggestion lacks merit," said Ildefonse. "Why create a new document of some unfamiliar colour, when the Blue Principle has served us staunchly and well? Rhialto's document, though slightly torn, will suffice for the nonce."

Hurtiancz again bounded out to claim the floor. "If we accept Rhialto's document, then his charges prevail! With a new Perciplex based upon the simulacrum, all previous claims, including Rhialto's demand for triple damages, are repudiated, and Rhialto willy-nilly must pay the penalty for his mischiefs."

"An important point!" cried Tchamast. "Hurtiancz has slashed a clear avenue through this jungle of verbiage; he has clamped his admirable teeth deep into the very gist of the matter." Here Tchamast made reference to the exquisitely shaped rubies which replaced Hurtiancz's original complement of teeth; and Hurtiancz bowed in acknowledgment of the compliment.

Vermoulian the Dream-walker, a person tall and thin as a wand, with a high crest of glossy black hair like the dorsal fin of a sail-fish, was not known for his loquacity. His prominent eyes tended to gaze unfocused past the bony jut of his nose, and were often obscured by a nictitating membrane which conceivably served a useful purpose during his dream-walking. In the punitive phase of the proceedings against Rhialto, he had acquired a very fine glossolary, which, translating as it did the most corrupt gibberish into clear common speech, served him well in the course of his vocation. In any event, and for whatever reason, Vermoulian now thrust himself erect and spoke in a voice dry and precise: "I put the thesis of Hurtiancz into the form of a motion!"