The Magnificent Showboats (23 page)

Zamp now lowered the cargo net and allowed Baron Banoury and his company to extricate themselves one by one, to be disarmed, relieved of pouches, jewels, metal ornaments, pomanders, flasks of scent and the like. Gassoon stood disdainfully aside during this process though he stepped forward to appraise the heap of valuables.

Zamp inquired of Baron Banoury, “What is the geography of this lake? Where lies Mornune, for instance?”

Banoury sullenly pretended ignorance of such matters. “The town is somewhere yonder: the seat of a mean and capricious tyrant. If he takes note of me, he will feed me to his sacred oels. You might as well drown me here and now, or even better allow me the use of a small boat so that I may return to my castle.”

“This is an impractical suggestion. I distinctly remember your unyielding manner and your reference to gibbets.”

“You thereby condemn us all to an unpleasant end.”

“Who lives forever? You should have considered these possibilities before you attempted to plunder us. You and your company may go to the starboard capstan and relieve the team of bullocks which now labors there.”

“Must we toil like animals?” shouted Baron Banoury, at last overwrought. “Have you no gallantry? These ladies know nothing of such exercise!”

“It is simple enough,” said Zamp. “One thrusts at the bar with all his weight until the bar moves, then he or she steps forward and repeats the act. In almost no time you will learn the skills.”

Disconsolate and complaining, the erstwhile noblefolk were taken to the capstan and disposed to their duties.

Damsel Blanche-Aster, as usual, had kept remote and apart from the activity of the day. She was not now on deck and Zamp went to seek her in her cabin. By some circumstance the door stood slightly ajar; peering through the aperture Zamp observed Damsel Blanche-Aster in the act of trying on the garment which Zamp had seen once before, at the Green Star Inn: an intricately embroidered jacket, at one time an article of great elegance but now somewhat shabby and threadbare. Damsel Blanche-Aster seemed dissatisfied with her appearance, for she removed the garment, and pulled a dark blue jacket over her head.

Zamp knocked at the door; Damsel Blanche-Aster gave a startled gasp and then looked forth into the corridor. “What do you wish?”

“Advice, instruction and information. We are lost upon the face of the Bottomless Lake.”

Damsel Blanche-Aster wordlessly came out into the corridor and Zamp took her up to the quarterdeck. “The most eminent geographers of Lune XXIII contradict each other in regard to this remarkable body of water,” said Zamp. “We cannot decide which direction to steer.”

“Steer yonder.” Damsel Blanche-Aster pointed to the northeast. “The lake is about forty miles long; you can just barely see the Myrmont. Below, along the Cynthiana, is Mornune.”

As they spoke a long black galley appeared from the shadows under the eastern crags and thrust at great speed toward
Miraldra’s Enchantment
. Zamp ordered the howitzer to be brought to bear.

Damsel Blanche-Aster counseled against any show of defiance. “This is one of King Waldemar’s patrols; you need merely display your safe-conduct. By no means mention my presence!”

The galley surged across the water on thirty oars, to lay alongside the showboat. Zamp lowered the accommodation ladder and a flashing-eyed dark-haired young officer in a handsome uniform of green, purple and black clambered aboard. “Navigation on this lake is forbidden to aliens,” he declared. “We are ordered to sink all intruding vessels. Prepare to drown.”

Zamp produced the safe-conduct which he had earned so long ago at Lanteen; the officer scrutinized the metal with care. “You are Apollon Zamp?”

“I am.”

“And this ship is
Miraldra’s Enchantment
?”

“The legend under the bows speaks for itself.”

“One moment.” The officer went to the ladder and called down into the galley: “Pass up the ledger of current business.” While waiting he said to Zamp, “You must excuse our severity; the country swarms with folk of unspeakable character, including insurrectionists, political and moral deviates, and persons of low caste. We tolerate no such folk in our realm, except by force of such an instrument as you yourself bear.”

“Your remark admits of varying interpretations,” said Zamp haughtily. “Since I am not an insurrectionist, it would appear that you have described me as either a deviate or a person of low caste.”

“Interpret my remarks as you like,” said the officer. “My only concern is your positive identification.” He took the ledger which had been handed up to him. He checked a symbol on Zamp’s plaque and turned to a page in the ledger.

“‘Summons and invitation issued to one Apollon Zamp at the town Lanteen, that he may bring his troupe of harlequins before King Waldemar. His description is as follows: a man thus and thus …’” The officer scanned the description, comparing the specifics against the person of Zamp himself. “Very well; you may proceed. Bear yonder toward Mount Myr, which marks the mouth of Cynthiana Bay.”

The officer returned to his galley; Zamp signaled the boatswain, who in turn chirruped to the bullocks and the companies of Garth Ashgale and Baron Banoury respectively. The capstans turned; the stern-wheel pounded at the water; the ship proceeded across the lake. Zamp, idling on the quarterdeck, felt that the velocity of motion was not all that it might have been, and considered a competition between the two groups; but before he was able to formulate the terms of such a contest, a breeze dropped out of the sky to raise cat’s-paws on the lake and fill the sails. Zamp halted all action at the capstans and raised the wheel from the water.

Phaedra dropped behind the palisades and night fell across the lake. Through the clear air the stars shone bright and exact, and the quartermaster steered by Ormaz the One-eyed. Two hours before midnight the breeze dwindled to a breath and the vessel ghosted across the lake, not as fast as a man might crawl.

Zamp, unable to sleep or even relax, wandered the decks and found Damsel Blanche-Aster at the bow. She gave no sign that his presence was welcome; nevertheless he joined her. For a moment the two stood in silence, looking across the water. The stars in the sky and those reflected created an all-encompassing cosmos; they might have been drifting through space.

Zamp asked politely: “Can you see the lights of Mornune?”

“They are invisible around the slant of the hillside.”

“Now that you are close to home and the completion of your mission, no doubt you are exultant.”

In the starlight Zamp saw her shoulders move. She muttered: “I am frightened.”

After a moment Zamp said: “It is useless offering counsel; you would only tell me another fable.”

Damsel Blanche-Aster laughed softly. “I have told you no fables. Half-fables, perhaps. What is to be done I must do myself.” She turned to face Zamp. “Only please do not force me to act against my will!”

It was Zamp’s turn to laugh sadly. “We have been through these matters a dozen times, and you have emerged intact. Why are you now concerned?”

“I mean at Mornune, or in connection with the performance. You must tolerate my whims.”

Zamp shrugged. “So long as we win King Waldemar’s prize.”

Damsel Blanche-Aster made a half-amused half-scornful sound. “You will not win the prize! Poor Apollon Zamp! You do not know the delicacy of Waldemar’s tastes! He will sit unmoved by your hopping witches and heroic declamations!”

Zamp heaved a deep sigh. “There are no changes I can make now … In all kindness, might you not have explained something of this at Coble?”

Damsel Blanche-Aster stared northward across the water. “I know nothing of kindness. Little enough has been shown to me, except by Throdorus Gassoon.”

Zamp said nothing. The night air seemed suddenly chill. Damsel Blanche-Aster went on in a dull voice. “I know what you are thinking. But remember, I never pretended to be anything other than self-serving.”

“Heigh-ho!” said Zamp. “So here we are at Mornune, and come what may we must play
Macbeth
for King Waldemar, even though he chokes with boredom.” He turned away and walked slowly aft, leaving Damsel Blanche-Aster standing at the bow. On the quarter-deck he ordered a pot of tea from the steward and sat an hour watching the sails billow pale in the star-shine and listening to the sounds of the ship.

Gassoon came from his office to stand blinking and peering. “Ah there, Zamp. You sit alone.”

“This has been a difficult day.”

“Most difficult. Still we have negotiated it successfully. And ahead lies tomorrow, which I hope will bring us closer to our goal.”

“So I hope.”

“It can hardly go otherwise,” said Gassoon. “I must admit to a state of anticipation and excitement.”

“We have come a long way,” said Zamp. “It will be a long way back to Coble.”

Dawn appeared in colors of pearl and white opal, from a sky ringed around with mist, and the lake shuddered to the cool light like sensitive flesh.

Miraldra’s Enchantment
had made little progress during the night. Zamp estimated that they now floated at the very center of the lake; and he did not care to speculate upon the black depths below. Zamp brought up a team of bullocks and his two gangs. As he watched Garth Ashgale and Baron Banoury leaning to the capstan he reflected that no matter what the eventualities of this voyage, certain memories would console him to the end of his years.

Phaedra rose into the sky. The mists dissolved; the air became clear, and ahead, plain to see, was Myrmont and the mouth of Cynthiana Bay. Across the lake darted a pair of black galleys, each mounted with rocket-launching tubes. Zamp was again forced to produce his safe-conduct and submit to an inquisition. Almost reluctantly the officers departed and Zamp was allowed to proceed.

An hour later the ship slid around the flanks of Myrmont into Cynthiana Bay. On the slopes appeared ranks of white palaces under tall dark syrax trees: the town Mornune.

A long dock of white stone fronted the lake, beside which floated a half-dozen vessels. Certain of these seemed to be showboats, built to styles different from any Zamp had ever seen or known.

An esplanade ran parallel to the dock, bounded by a balustrade of carved stone. At fifty-foot intervals great urns on pedestals trailed a black and brown foliage with scarlet blossoms. Across the way shops displayed wares of many styles behind tall glass windows. Palaces occupied the slopes above, half-hidden behind the foliage of syrax, jangal, fern indigo, greenock. The dock and esplanade continued north two miles and finally disappeared around a curve of the shore. Cynthiana Bay gradually narrowed while the hills to either side dwindled and fell back; the bay became a broad river extending far off and away to the north.

The folk of Mornune passed along the esplanade in costumes of elegant simplicity. Few turned glances of more than casual curiosity toward
Miraldra’s Enchantment
.

A group of four men in black and gold uniforms approached. They halted, considered the vessel in grave calculation, then one, wearing a black cap with a gold-embroidered visor, consulted the pages of a ledger. He made a sardonic comment to his fellows, and climbed the gangplank.

Zamp stepped forward to meet him. Gassoon, on the quarterdeck, watched the confrontation with a disdainful expression.

The official introduced himself. “I am the Director of Docks; be so good as to identify yourself and your ship.”

In a somewhat lofty voice Zamp said, “I am Master Apollon Zamp and this is my famous vessel
Miraldra’s Enchantment
.” For the third time Zamp produced his silver warrant. “Our home port is Coble on Surmise Bay, as you no doubt know.”

The official looked up in mystification, then shrugged and, opening his ledger, checked the plaque against a set of notations. He inspected Zamp, again consulted his ledger. Finally he nodded. “Your authorization appears to be valid. I must remark, unofficially, that you arrive with the most careless and casual insouciance. The Festival of Art and Gaiety begins tomorrow.”

“So long as we are not late, no great harm is done,” said Zamp.

The official turned Zamp another cool glance. “Your name of course will be included upon the list of participants. Had you arrived tomorrow your journey might have been in vain.”

“We intended no disrespect,” said Zamp stiffly. “The way from Coble is long. The winds at this season are undependable.”

“No doubt, no doubt.” The Director of Docks slapped the ledger against his thigh. “It is all one, since you have evidently arrived. You will be assigned the sixth and final place in the competition.”

“Such details are of course at your discretion.”

“Tomorrow morning the festival officially opens. It is recommended that you decorate your vessel in black, scarlet and gold, to honor the Dynastic Tabard.”

Zamp acknowledged the advice. “We will wish to attend the other presentations. I rely upon you to make the arrangements for us.”

“You are allowed two places at each phase of the competition,” the Director of Docks responded in an even, if somewhat metallic voice, “which begins at noon tomorrow aboard the ship
Voyuz
.”