Tales of the Dying Earth (32 page)

The foremost called out, “How is it that you come from the uninhabited north? And why do you walk with this dire creature of the night?”

“There is no mystery to either of your questions,” said Cugel. “First, the north is not uninhabited; some hundreds of men yet remain alive. As to this black hybrid of demon and cannibal, I employed it to lead me safely through the mountains, but I am dissatisfied with its services.”

“I did all expected of me,” declared the deodand. “Release me in accordance with our pact.”

“As you will,” said Cugel. He released the halter which secured the creature's throat, and it limped away glaring over its shoulder. Cugel made a sign to the leader of the huntsmen; he spoke a word to his fellows; they raised their bows and shot the deodand with arrows.

Cugel gave a curt nod of approval. “Wbat of yourselves? And what of Magnatz who reputedly makes the mountains unsafe for travel?”

The huntsmen laughed. “A legend merely. At one time a terrible creature named Magnatz did indeed exist, and in deference to the tradition we of Vull Village still appoint one of our number to serve as Watchman. But this is all the credit to be given the tale.”

“Strange,” said Cugel, “that the tradition wields so wide an influence.”

The huntsmen shrugged indifferently. “Night approaches; it is time to turn back. You are welcome to join us, and at Vull there is a tavern where you may rest the night.”

“I gladly avail myself of your company.”

The group set off up the trail. As they marched Cugel made inquiry regarding the road to the south, but the huntsmen were of little assistance. “Vull Village is situated on the shores of Lake Vull, which is unnavigable for its Whirlpools, and a few of us have explored the mountains to the south. It is said that they are barren and drop off into an inhospitable gray waste.”

“Possibly Magnatz roams the mountains across the lake?” inquired Cugel delicately.

“Tradition is silent on this score,” replied the huntsman.

After an hour's march the group reached Vull, a village of an affluence surprising to Cugel. The dwellings were solidly constructed of stone and timber, the streets neatly laid-out and well-drained; there was a public market, a granary, a hall, a repository, several taverns, a number of modestly luxurious mansions. As the huntsmen marched up the main street, a.man called out to them. “Important newsl The Watchman has perished!”

“Indeed?” inquired the leader of the huntsmen with keen interest. “Who serves in the interim?”

“It is Lafel, son to the hetman — who else?”

“Who else indeed?” remarked the huntsman, and the group passed on.

“Is the post of Watchman held in such high esteem then?” asked Cugel.

The huntsman shrugged. “It is best described as a ceremonial sinecure. A permanent functionary will no doubt be chosen tomorrow. But notice in the door of the hall!” And he pointed to a stocky broad-shouldered man wearing brown fur-trimmed robes and a black bifold hat “That is Hylam Wiskode, the hetman himself. Ho, Wis-kode! We have encountered a traveler from the north!”

Hylam Wiskode approached, and saluted Cugel with courtesy. “Welcome! Strangers are a novelty; our hospitality is yours!”

“I thank you indeed,” said Cugel. “I had expected no such affability in the Mountains of Magnatz, which all the world holds in dread.”

The hetman chuckled. “Misapprehensions are common everywhere; you may well find certain of our notions quaint and archaic, like our Watch for Magnatz. But come — here is our best tavern. After you have established yourself we will sup.”

Cugel was taken to a comfortable chamber, furnished various conveniences, and presently, clean and refreshed, he rejoined Hylam Wiskode in the common room. An appetizing supper was set before him, together with a flagon of wine.

After the meal the hetman conducted Cugel on a tour of the town, which enjoyed a pleasant aspect above the lake.

Tonight seemed to be a special occasion: everywhere cressets threw up plumes of flame, while the folk of Vull walked the streets, pausing to confer in small knots and groups. Cugel inquired the reason for the obvious perturbation. “Is it because your watchman has died?”

“This is the case,” said the hetman. “We treat our traditions with all earnestness, and the selection of a new Watchman is a matter for public debate. But observe: here Is the public repository, where the common wealth is collected. Do you care to look within?”

“I abide your pleasure,” said Cugel. “If you wish to inspect the communal gold, I will be glad to join you.”

The hetman threw back the door. “Here is much more than gold! In this bin are jewels; that rack holds antique coins. Those bales contain fine silks and embroidered damask; to the side are cases of precious spice, even more precious liquors, and subtle pastes without value. But I should not use these terms on you, a traveler and man of experience, who has looked upon real wealth.” Cugel insisted that the riches of Vull were by no means to be deprecated. The hetman bowed appreciatively and they proceeded to an esplanade beside the lake, now a great dark expanse illuminated by feeble starlight,

The hetman indicated a cupola supported five hundred feet in the air by a slender pillar. “Can you guess the function of that structure?”

“It would seem to be the post of the Watchman,” said Cugel.

“Correct! You are a man of discernment A pity you are in such haste and can not linger in VullI”

Cugel, considering his empty wallet and the riches of the storehouse, made a suave gesture. “I would not be averse to such a sojourn, but in all candor, I travel in penury, and would be forced to seek some sort of gainful employment. I wonder regarding the office of Watchman, which I understand to be a post of some prestige.”

“Indeed it is,” said the hetman. “My own son stands watch tonight. Still, there is no reason why you should not be a suitable candidate for the position. The duties are by no means arduous; indeed the post is something of a sinecure.”

Cugel became conscious of Firx's fretful stirrings. “And as to the emoluments?”

“They are excellent. The Watchman enjoys great prestige here in Vull, since, in a purely formal sense, he protects us all from danger.”

“They are, specifically, what?”

The hetman paused to reflect, and ticked off the points on his fingers. “First, he is provided a comfortable watch-tower, complete with cushions, an optical device whereby distant objects are made to seem close at hand, a brazier to provide heat and an ingenious communications system. Next, bis food and drink are of the highest quality and provided free of charge, at his pleasure and to his order. Next, he is generally granted the subsidiary title ‘Guardian of the Public Repository,’ and to simplify matters he is invested with full title to, and powers of dispensation over, the total wealth of Vull. Fourth, he may select as his spouse that maiden who seems to him the most attractive. Fifthly, he is accorded the title of ‘Baron’ and must be saluted with profound respect”

“Indeed, indeed,” said Cugel. “The position appears worthy of consideration. What responsibilities are entailed?”

“They are as the nomenclature implies. The Watchman must keep watch, for this is one of the old-fashioned customs we observe. The duties are hardly onerous, but they must not be scamped, because that would signify farce, and we are serious folk, even in connection with our quaint traditions.”

Cugel nodded judiciously. “The conditions are straightforward. The Watchman watches; nothing could be more clearly expressed. But who is Magnate, in what direction should he be apprehended, and how may he be recognized?”

“These questions are of no great application,” said the hetman, “since the creature, in theory, has no existence.”

Cugel glanced up at the tower, across the lake, back toward the public repository. “I hereby make application for the position, providing aU is as you state.”

Firx instantly impinged a series of racking pangs upon Cugel's vitals. Cugel bent double, clasped his abdomen, straightened, and making excuses to the perplexed hetman, moved to the side. “Patience!” he implored Firx. “Temperance! Have you no concept of realities? My purse is empty; there are long leagues ahead! To travel with any degree of expedition, I must restore my strength and replenish my wallet. I plan to work at this office only long enough to do both, then it is post-haste to Almery.”

Firx reluctantly diminished the demonstrations, and Cugel returned to where the hetman waited.

“All is as before,” said Cugel. “I have taken counsel with myself and believe I can adequately fulfill the obligations of the job.”

The hetman nodded. “I am pleased to hear this. You will find my presentation of the facts to be accurate in every essential aspect. I likewise have been reflecting, and I can safely say that no other person of the town aspires to so august a position, and I hereby pronounce you Watchman of the Town!” Ceremoniously the hetman brought forth a golden collar, which he draped around Cugel's neck.

They returned toward the tavern, and as they went, the folk of Vull, noting the golden collar, pressed upon the hetman with eager questions. “Yes,” was his answer. “This gentleman has demonstrated his capabilities, and I have pronounced him Watchman of the Town!”

At the news the folk of Vull became generously expansive, and congratulated Cugel as if he had been a resident the whole of his life.

AH repaired to the tavern; wine and spiced meat were set out; pipers appeared and there was decorous dancing and merrymaking.

Daring the course of the evening Cugel spied an extremely beautiful girl dancing with a young man who had been part of the hunting party. Cugel nudged the hetman, directed his attention to the girl.

“Ah yes: the delightful Marlinka! She dances with the lad whom I believe she plans to espouse.”

“Her plans possibly are subject to alteration?” inquired Cugel meaningfully.

The hetman winked slyly. “You find her attractive?”

“Indeed, and since this is a prerequisite of my office, I hereby declare this delightful creature my bride-elect. Let the ceremonies be performed at once.”

“So swiftly?” inquired the hetman. “Ah, well, the hot blood of youth brooks no delay.” He signaled the girl and she danced merrily over to the table. Cugel arose and performed a deep bow. The hetman spoke. “Marlinka, the Watchman of the Town finds you desirable and wishes you for his spouse.”

Marlinka seemed first surprised, then amused. She glanced roguishly at Cugel, and performed an arch curtsy. “The Watchman does me great honor.”

“Further,” intoned the hetman, “he requires that the marital ceremonies be performed on the instant.”

Marlinka looked dubiously at Cugel, then over her shoulder at the young man with whom she had been dancing. “Very well,” she said. “As you will.”

The ceremony was performed, and Cugel found himself espoused to Marlinka, whom, on closer examination, he saw to be a creature of delightful animation, charming manners and exquisite appearance. He put his arm around her waist. “Come,” he whispered, “let us slip away for a period and solemnize the connubiality.”

“Not so soon,” whispered Marlinka. “I must have time to order myself; I am overexcited!” She released herself, and danced away.

There was further feasting and merrymaking, and to his vast displeasure Cugel noted Marlinka again dancing with the youth to whom she formerly had been betrothed. As he watched she embraced this young man with every evidence of ardor. Cugel marched forward, halted the dance, and took his bride aside. “Such an act is hardly appropriate; you have only been married an hour I”

Marlinka, both surprised and nonplused, laughed, then frowned, then laughed again and promised to behave with greater decorum. Cugel attempted to lead her to his chamber, but she once again declared the moment unsuitable.

Cugel drew a deep sigh of vexation, but was consoled by the recollection of his other perquisites: the freedom of the repository, for instance. He leaned over to the hetman. “Since now I am titular guardian to the public repository, it is only prudent that I acquaint myself in detail with the treasure I am charged with guarding. If you will be so good as to turn over the keys, I will go to make a quick inventory.”

“Even better,” said the hetman, “I will accompany you, and do what I can in the way of assistance.”

They crossed to the repository. The hetman unlocked the door and held a light. Cugel entered and examined the valuables. “I see that all is in order, and perhaps it is advisable to wait till my head is settled before undertaking a detailed inventory. But in the meantime—” Cugel went to the jewel bin, selected several gems, and began to tuck them into his pouch.

“A moment,” said the hetman. “I fear you inconvenience yourself. Shortly you will be fitted with garments of rich cloth deserving of your rank. The wealth is most conveniently kept here in the treasury; why trouble yourself with the weight, or incur the possibility of loss?”

“There is something jn what you say,” remarked Cugel, “but I wish to order the construction of a mansion overlooking the lake and I will need wealth to pay the costs of construction.”

“In due time, in due time. The actual work can hardly commence until you have examined the countryside and chosen the most felicitous site.”

“True,” agreed Cugel. “I can see that there are busy times ahead. But now — back to the tavern! My spouse is overmodest and now I will brook no further delay!”

But upon their return Marlinka was nowhere to be found. “Doubtless she has gone to array herself in seductive garments,” suggested the hetman. “Have patience!”

Cugel compressed his lips in displeasure, and was further annoyed to find that the young huntsman had likewise departed.

The merrymaking waxed apace, and after many toasts, Cugel became a trifle fuddled, and was carried up to his chamber.

Early in the morning the hetman rapped at the door, and entered at Cugel's summons. “We must now visit the watchtower,” said the hetman. “My own son guarded Vull this last night, since our tradition demands incessant vigilance.”

With poor grace Cugel dressed himself and followed the hetman out into the cool air of morning. They walked to the watchtower, and Cugel was astounded both by its height and by the elegant simplicity of its construction, the slender stem rearing five hundred feet into the air to support the cupola.