Read Tales of the Dying Earth Online
Authors: Jack Vance
Tags: #General, #Fiction, #Fantasy, #Science Fiction, #Fantasy Fiction, #End of the world, #Fantasy fiction; American, #Masterwork
"Not with certainty. At times I send forth animalcules to explore the far places; they report an infinite landscape similar to that which you see."
"Duke Orbal of Ombalique has commanded me to gather information and he will be interested in your remarks. Are valuable substances to be found here?"
"To a certain extent. There is proscedel and diphany and an occasional coruscation of zamanders."
"My first concern, of course, is to collect information for Duke Orbal, and I must also rescue Iolo's dreams; still I would be pleased to acquire a valuable trinket or two, if only to remind myself of our pleasant association."
"Understandable! I sympathize with your objectives."
"In that case, how may I obtain a quantity of such substances?"
"Easily. Simply send off animalcules to gather up your requirements." The creature emitted a whole host of pale plasms which darted away in all directions and presently returned with several dozen small spheres sparkling with a frosty blue light. "Here are zamanders of the first water," said the creature. "Accept them with my compliments."
Cugel placed the gems in his pouch. "This is a most convenient system for gaining wealth. I also wish to obtain a certain amount of diphany."
"Send forth animalcules! Why exert yourself needlessly?"
"We think along similar lines." Cugel dispatched several hundred animalcules which presently returned with twenty small ingots of the precious metal.
Cugel examined his pouch. "I still have room for a quantity of proscedel. With your permission I will send out the requisite animalcules."
"I would not dream of interfering," asserted the creature.
The animalcules sped forth, and before long returned with sufficient proscedel to fill Cugel's pouch. The creature said thoughtfully: "This is at least half of Uthaw's treasure; however, he appears not to have noticed its absence."
"'Uthaw'?" inquired Cugel. "Do you refer to yonder monstrous hulk?"
"Yes, that is Uthaw, who sometimes is both coarse and irascible."
Uthaw's eyes rolled toward Cugel and bulged through the outer membrane. A tide of animalcules arrived pulsing with significance. "I notice that Cugel has stolen my treasure, which I denounce as a breach of hospitality! In retribution, he must dig twenty-two zamanders from below the Shivering Trillows. He must then sift eight pounds of prime proscedel from the Dust of Time. Finally he must scrape eight acres of diphany bloom from the face of the High Disk."
Cugel sent forth animalcules. "Lord Uthaw, the penalty is harsh but just. A moment while I go to fetch the necessary tools!" He gathered up the dreams and sprang to the aperture. Seizing the tentacle he cried through the hole: "Pull the tentacle, work the winch! I have rescued the dreams!"
The tentacle convulsed and thrashed, effectively blocking the opening. Cugel turned and putting his fingers to his mouth emitted a piercing whistle. Uthaw's eye rolled upward and the tentacle fell limp.
The winch heaved at the tentacle and Cugel was drawn back through the hole. Uthaw, recovering his senses, jerked his tentacle so violently that the rope snapped; the winch was sent flying; and several persons were swept from their feet. Uthaw jerked back his tentacle and the hole immediately closed.
Cugel cast the sack of dream-flakes contemptuously at the feet of Iolo. "There you are, ingrate! Take your vapid hallucinations and go your way! Let us hear no more of you!"
Cugel turned to Duke Orbal. "I am now able to render a report upon the other cosmos. The ground is composed of a black spongelike substance and flickers with a trillion infinitesimal glimmers. My research discovered no limits to the extent of the land. A pale disk, barely visible, covers a quarter of the sky. The denizens are, first and foremost, an ill-natured hulk named Uthaw, and others more or less similar. No sound is allowed and meaning is conveyed by animalcules, which also procure the necessities of life. In essence, these are my discoveries, and now, with utmost respect, I claim the grand prize of one thousand terces."
From behind his back Cugel heard Iolo's mocking laughter. Duke Orbal shook his head. "My dear Cugel, what you suggest is impossible. To what exhibit do you refer? The boxful of dirt yonder? It lacks all pretensions to singularity."
"But you saw the hole! With your winch you pulled the tentacle! In accordance with your orders, I entered the hole and explored the region!"
"True enough, but hole and tentacle are both vanished. I do not for a moment suggest mendacity, but your report is not easily verified. I can hardly award honors to an entity so fugitive as the memory of a non-existent hole! I fear that on this occasion I must pass you by. The prize will be awarded to Zaraflam and his remarkable cockroaches."
"A moment, your Grace!" Iolo called out. "Remember, I am entered in the competition! At last I am able to display my products! Here is a particularly choice item, distilled from a hundred dreams captured early in the morning from a bevy of beautiful maidens asleep in a bower of fragrant vines."
"Very well," said Duke Orbal. "I will delay the award until I test the quality of your visions. What is the procedure? Must I compose myself for slumber?"
"Not at all! The ingestion of the dream during waking hours produces not a hallucination, but a mood: a sensibility fresh, new and sweet: an allurement of the faculties, an indescribable exhilaration. Still, why should you not be comfortable as you test my dreams? You there! Fetch a couch! And you, a cushion for his Grace's noble head. You! Be good enough to take his Grace's hat."
Cugel saw no profit in remaining. He moved to the outskirts of the throng.
Iolo brought forth his dream and for a moment seemed puzzled by the ooze still adhering to the object, then decided to ignore the matter, and paid no further heed, except to rub his fingers as if after contact with some viscid substance.
Making a series of grand gestures, Iolo approached the great chair where Duke Orbal sat at his ease. "I will arrange the dream for its most convenient ingestion," said Iolo. "I place a quantity into each ear; I insert a trifle up each nostril; I arrange the balance under your Grace's illustrious tongue. Now, if your Grace will relax, in half a minute the quintessence of a hundred exquisite dreams will be made known."
Duke Orbal became rigid. His fingers clenched the arms of the chair. His back arched and his eyes bulged from their sockets. He turned over backward, then rolled, jerked, jumped and bounded about the plaza before the amazed eyes of his subjects.
Iolo called out in a brassy voice: "Where is Cugel? Fetch that scoundrel Cugel!"
But Cugel had already departed Cuirnif and was nowhere to be found.
CUGEL'S visit to Cuirnif was marred by several disagreeable incidents, and he left town with more haste than dignity. At last he pushed through an alder thicket, jumped a ditch and scrambled up on the Old Ferghaz High-road. Pausing to look and listen, and discovering that pursuit apparently had been abandoned, he set off at best speed to the west.
The road lay across a wide blue moor patched here and there with small forests. The region was eerily silent; scanning the moor, Cugel found only distance, a wide sky and solitude, with no sign of hut or house.
From the direction of Cuirnif came a trap drawn by a one-horned wheriot. The driver was Bazzard, who, like Cugel, had exhibited at the Exposition of Marvels. Bazzard's entry, like Cugel's 'Nowhere', had been disqualified for technical reasons.
Bazzard halted the trap. "So, Cugel, I see that you decided to leave your exhibit at Cuirnif."
"I had no real choice," said Cugel. "With the hole gone, 'Nowhere' became a massive boxful of dirt, which I was happy to leave in the custody of Duke Orbal."
"I did the same with my dead fish," said Bazzard. He looked around the moor. "This is a sinister district, with robber asms watching from every forest. Where are you bound?"
"Ultimately, to Azenomei in Almery. As of now, I would be happy to find shelter for the night."
"In that case, why not ride with me? I will be grateful for your company. Tonight we will stop at the Iron Man Inn, and tomorrow should bring us to Llaio where I live with my four fathers."
"Your offer is welcome," said Cugel. He climbed to the seat; Bazzard touched up the wheriot and the trap moved along the road at good speed.
After a period Bazzard said: "If I am not mistaken, Iucounu the Laughing Magician, as he is known, makes his resort at Pergolo, which is near Azenomei. Perhaps you and he are acquainted?"
"We are indeed," said Cugel. "He has enjoyed several choice jokes at my expense."
"Aha then! I gather that he is not one of your most trusted comrades."
Cugel looked over his shoulder and spoke in a distinct voice. "Should any casual ears be listening, let it be known that my regard for Iucounu is of a high order."
Bazzard made a sign of comprehension, "Whatever the case, why are you returning to Azenomei?"
Again Cugel looked in all directions. "Still in reference to Iucounu: his many friends often report overheard messages, but sometimes in garbled form; hence I am careful to avoid loose talk."
"That is correct conduct!" said Bazzard. "At Llaio, my four fathers are equally prudent." After a moment Cugel asked: "Many times I have known a father with four sons, but never before a son with four fathers. What is the explanation?"
Bazzard scratched his head in puzzlement. "I have never thought to ask," he said. "I will do so at the earliest opportunity."
The journey proceeded without incident and late in the afternoon of the second day, the two arrived at Llaio, a large manse of sixteen gables.
A groom took the trap into charge; Bazzard conducted Cugel through a tall iron-bound door, across a reception hall and into a parlour. High windows, each of twelve violet panes, dimmed the afternoon sunlight; fusty magenta beams, slanting down across the room, warmed the dark oak wainscoting. A long table rested on dark green carpeting. Close together, with their backs to the fire, sat four men of unusual aspect, in that they shared between them a single eye, a single ear, a single arm and a single leg. In other respects the four were much alike: small and slight, with round serious faces and black hair cut short.
Bazzard performed the introductions. As he spoke the four men deftly passed arm, eye and ear back and forth, so that each was able to appraise the quality of their visitor.
"This gentleman is Cugel," said Bazzard. "He is a minor grandee of the Twish River Valley, who has suffered the jokes of someone who shall remain nameless. Cugel, allow me to present my four fathers! They are Disserl, Vasker, Pelasias and Archimbaust: at one time wizards of repute until they too ran afoul of a certain prankster magician."
Pelasias, who at this moment wore both the eye and ear, spoke: "Be assured of our welcome! Guests at Llaio are all too rare. How did you chance to meet our son Bazzard?"
"We occupied close pavilions at the Exposition," said Cugel. "With due respect for Duke Orbal, I feel that his rulings were arbitrary, and neither Bazzard nor I won the prize."
"Cugel's remarks are not exaggerated," said Bazzard. "I was not even allowed to simulate the songs of my unfortunate fish."
"A pity!" said Pelasias. "Still, the Exposition no doubt provided memorable experiences for you both, so the time was not wasted. Am I right in this, Bazzard?"
"Quite right, sir, and while the subject is fresh in my mind, I would like you to resolve a perplexity. A single father often boasts four sons, but how does a single son boast four fathers?"
Disserl, Vasker and Archimbaust rapidly tapped the table; the eye, ear and arm were interchanged. At last Vasker made a curt gesture. "The question is nuncupatory."
Archimbaust, providing himself with eye and ear, examined Cugel with care. He seemed especially interested in Cugel's cap, to which Cugel had again attached 'Spatterlight'. "That is a remarkable ornament," said Archimbaust.
Cugel bowed politely. "I consider it very fine."
"As to the origin of this object: do you care to provide us any information?"
Cugel smilingly shook his head. "Let us change the subject to more interesting topics. Bazzard tells me that we have a number of friends in common, including the noble and popular Iucounu."
Archimbaust blinked his eye in puzzlement. "Are we speaking of that yellow, immoral and repulsive Iucounu, sometimes known as the 'Laughing Magician'?"
Cugel winced and shuddered. "I would never make such insulting references to dear Iucounu, especially if I thought that he or one of his loyal spies might overhear."
"Aha!" said Archimbaust. "Now I understand your diffidence! You need not worry! We are protected by a warning device. You may speak freely."
"In that case I will admit that my friendship with Iucounu is not deep and abiding. Recently, at his command, a leather-winged demon carried me across the Ocean of Sighs and dropped me sprawling upon a dreary beach known as Shanglestone Strand."