The Magnificent Showboats (9 page)

Someone spoke aghast in a voice half-moan, half-whisper: “Lop Loiqua.”

Someone else hissed between clenched teeth: “Killed while in black.”

Into Zamp’s mind burst a single name: Garth Ashgale.

No time now for dismay. Zamp threw down cloak and hood and called to Bonko: “Stand by to cut the hawsers! Start up the beasts! Ready to make sail! I’ll talk to the audience.” Bonko lumbered off to deal with three tasks at once; Zamp mounted to the stage.

“Ladies and gentlemen: gallant Whants all: this concludes our entertainment for the evening. Please file from the ship in an orderly fashion. Tomorrow we present an amusing and inspiring program of agilities and magics —” Zamp ducked. Past his ear hurtled an axe. The audience had gained their feet. Each rage-distended face was fixed upon him; men and women scrambled over each other, clumsy and disoriented, intent only on laying hands on Apollon Zamp.

Zamp sprang aft and pulled the alarm gong; the troupe, drilled a hundred times to such a contingency, reacted with precision. Deck-hands cut the hawsers; the vessel drifted away from the dock. Latches on the gunwales were pulled; the rails fell back and over, to hang down beside the hull. Below decks acrobats, magicians and stewards worked great screw jacks to raise the deck in half sections so that each section sloped out toward the water. The bullocks turned the capstan to power the pumps; blasts of water tumbled the Whants down the sloping decks into the dark river.

A few, nevertheless, gained the foredeck. Some grappled the deck-hands at the nozzles and flung them over the side. Others ran forward, toppled the great bow-lamp and threw torches up at the sails. Others brought oil from the forepeak and poured it across the decks; flame blasted high into the night. Zamp bawled down into the hold: “Reverse the jack; lower the deck!” but the troupe, appalled by the flames, clambered out of the hold and joined Zamp on the quarterdeck.

The entire bow of the boat seethed with flames. Whants ran crazily back and forth, yelling and hooting. The open hold deterred them from attacking the quarterdeck and they were finally forced by the flames to jump overboard.

“Down river!” roared Zamp. “We’ll ride the current as far as we can. Man the pumps! To the fire hoses!”

But no one cared to venture down into the hold, under the burning rigging.

“Downstream with all speed!” cried Zamp, waving Evulsifer’s sword defiantly toward Port Whant. “We’ll drive our good ship as far as she’ll carry us, then we’ll beach her and let any who molest us beware!”

Bonko, still wearing his executioner’s costume, politely disputed the order. “Better that we take to the boats, sir! If we beach, the boats may be burnt with the ship and tomorrow the Whants will ride us down.”

Zamp threw aside the useless weapon and bleakly gazed forward at the roaring flames. “This is how it must be. Stand by to lower boats; we’ll ride the old craft till she falters then let her go her own way.”

Bonko ran off, shouting orders and instructions; Zamp retired to his cabin. He tore off his costume and donned a suit of gray twill, a fisherman’s cap and sturdy boots; he belted on his best steel-pointed rapier, shoved a pair of snapples into his waist-band together with a magazine of darts and charges. He stood in the center of his cabin and looked all around him, half-blinded by grief and fury. All within the range of his vision was precious: scripts, masks, mementos, testimonials, trophies, his carved furniture and fine blue carpet; his strongbox … He rummaged in his chest and found a lank leather pouch into which he poured all his iron: five pounds or more. What else? He could take nothing else; all must burn. Someday he would own another vessel, the grandest on the river; he’d want no sad recollections, nothing to remind him of the old
Miraldra’s Enchantment
save possibly the head of Garth Ashgale mounted on a plaque like a hunting trophy … He had almost forgotten his jewels! He crossed to his dressing table and transferred the contents of his jewel-box to his pocket: a topaz and galena clasp, a wristlet of gold set with amethysts and iron studs, a silver chain with a great peridot cabochon; an emerald ear-clip; the silver tablet inviting his presence at the Mornune Festival; a contrivance of iron bars which he usually wore dangling and jingling from the side of his soft black velvet cap: all into his pocket; and now there was time for nothing more. Zamp slung the leather pouch over his shoulder and returned to the quarterdeck.

Bonko had worked with efficiency; at each of the four boats stood a complement of troupe and crew, awaiting orders to launch the life-boats. Somewhat to the side, aloof and disinterested, Damsel Blanche-Aster waited with a bundle of her own belongings. Forward, the flames raged and crackled, illuminating the surface of the Lant: a dramatic and awful spectacle.

Bonko approached. “We must take to the boats. The planks are springing away from the stem and we’re taking water forward; we might go down in a dive.”

“Very good, lower the boats. Make sure the animals are released; give them a chance to swim for their lives.”

The boats were lowered: three pinnaces and the somewhat more comfortable captain’s gig, to which Zamp assigned Damsel Blanche-Aster. She climbed down the ladder and Zamp passed her bundle down to Chaunt the steward, then handed down his own heavy leather pouch. “Chaunt, make sure of this pouch; secure it in the forward cuddy!”

“Yes, sir!”

Zamp was last to leave the ship, already wallowing to the action of the water taken aboard. He climbed down into the gig. “Cast off!”

Oars were shipped; the boats pulled away from the flaming hulk. Zamp gazed steadfastly down-stream, unwilling to watch the passing of his proud vessel. Flickering orange light played over his shoulder, brightening the fascinated faces of those who chose to look back.

In sudden puzzlement Zamp looked from person to person: where was Chaunt? Not in the gig. Odd. There he was in the pinnace a few feet to port. Zamp called across: “Chaunt! Where is my pouch?”

“Safe aboard the gig, sir, stowed in the forward cuddy.”

“Very well.”

The boats rounded a bend; Zamp took a last glance over his shoulder. Whants, rather than pursuing in their own boats, had paused to plunder the sinking ship; Zamp could see their dark shapes jumping with simian agility back and forth in front of the flames.

The riverbank obscured his vision;
Miraldra’s Enchantment
was no more than a flickering glare in the sky and presently even this was gone.

All night the boats drifted down-river, rowing from time to time, the better to out-distance any Whants who might be pursuing.

At dawn the boats put ashore on a sandy river bar, to facilitate the stepping of masts and yards. Bonko built a fire, at which the troupe toasted sand-crawlers while the crew rigged the four boats.

Zamp noticed Damsel Blanche-Aster sitting with her bundle beside her and bethought himself of his pouch in the forward cuddy. It demonstrated a most gratifying weight, and Zamp stowed it again, more securely.

Returning to the beach he noticed that a number of crew-members had gathered around Bonko, each seeming to make some insistent point. A few yards along the beach, the performers and musicians of the troupe were engaged in a similarly intense discussion.

A moment later Bonko and Viliweg the Master of Miracles presented themselves before Zamp. Viliweg spoke. “A rather interesting point has been raised by certain artists of the troupe —”

“And also by members of the crew,” said Bonko, who still wore the executioner’s costume.

“— to the effect,” continued Viliweg, “that once we reach Lanteen, a degree of confusion and flux will ensue and conceivably, through some error, salaries and wages might not be paid.”

Bonko said: “The crew also feels that now is as good a time as any to settle up accounts, so that when we arrive at Lanteen, no one need be inconvenienced.”

Viliweg endorsed the remark. “The effort of searching out so many individuals at Lanteen in order to render to each his wage would be a most unfair vexation for a man already burdened with concern.”

Zamp looked from one to the other in amazement. “I can hardly believe my ears! Return to your people and announce that my first and most urgent task is the acquisition of a new boat, so that all may once more be secure in their careers. With this concept in mind, I propose to retain the ship’s monies in trust for all of us.”

Viliweg cleared his throat. “Several members of the troupe predicted that you would entertain such ambitions. I agree that they are altruistic; unfortunately they are also visionary, and in short each member of the troupe requires his or her iron now.”

“The crew,” said Bonko, “holds to a similar point of view.”

Zamp shook his head in vexation. “This attitude is so crass! Have we lost all sense of common purpose? Only by working together and perhaps sacrificing together can we achieve our goals!”

Viliweg spoke in a kindly voice. “This program wins my support, but it must be implemented in the following manner. Each person will now receive his total remuneration, plus a hardship bonus and compensation for the loss of his personal effects. Then, when opportunity presents itself, we will again join our funds and our unique talents, to the advantage of all. No other procedure is possible.”

Zamp made an angry gesture. “I never thought to encounter such sordid and self-defeating obstinacy! The taverns at Lanteen will be the only ones to profit. Still, if you persist in your folly, I am forced to oblige you. I must mention in passing that when I select personnel for my new boat I will not be moved by sentiment or loyalty based on previous association.”

“These events are still but dream-wisps in the mind of the Great Web-weaver,” declared Viliweg. “Pay out the iron.”

“Very well,” said Zamp in a sullen voice. “Form a line in single file. Viliweg, you will be so good as to prepare a joint acknowledgement of payment, which each individual will sign as he or she receives his wages.”

“Gladly,” said the magician. “I believe that among my effects I carry paper and a stylus.”

“One final remark,” said Zamp. “Mention was made of ‘bonuses’ and ‘compensation for losses’. At this time I can undertake no such extravagance. Employment terminated last evening, upon the stroke of Bonko’s axe; payment shall be made only to this moment.”

Zamp’s declaration was not popular, and awoke considerable protest, which he ignored. Boarding the gig, he put ashore a bench to use for a counting table, then from the cuddy took his leather pouch, and jumped back to the beach.

“Very well,” he called. “One at a time, approach, receive your iron, sign the document, and move aside. Do not attempt to rejoin the line, if you please. Complaints or disputes must be deferred until we reach Lanteen. Who is first: you, Viliweg?”

“Yes; since I will be supervising the signatures, it is most efficient that I be paid first. You owe me for precisely two months, four days, eleven hours and sixteen minutes.”

“What!” cried Zamp. “What nonsense is this! Have you forgotten the advance of thirty-three groats made to you at Lanteen?”

“Thirteen groats,” roared Viliweg in return. “I asked for fifty; you claimed that you could only spare thirteen from the petty cash.”

“Not so! You also owe for a chit on ship’s stores for approximately eleven groats, which I must deduct. Also —”

“A moment, a moment!” cried Viliweg. “Indeed I drew upon ship’s stores for a pot of hair pomade, a blanket for my bed and a carton of preserved figs. All these have been destroyed in the fire; I have had neither use nor enjoyment of these items!”

Zamp shook his head decisively. “The debt exists. Also, you have miscalculated the span of time subject to remuneration by three weeks and four days. I find that I owe you, in round figures, the sum of sixty-seven groats. Please sign the document.”

Viliweg raised his clenched hands into the air. Accustomed to excesses of artistic temperament, Zamp paid no heed. Opening his pouch in a business-like manner, he poured forth the contents upon the bench, the contents consisting of six heavy stones.

Zamp gazed down in consternation, then rose slowly to his feet. He looked down the line of folk waiting for their pay. Near the end stood Chaunt the steward.

Zamp called out: “Chaunt, be so good as to step this way.”

Chaunt came forward. “Yes, sir, what is the trouble?”

“When I handed this pouch down to you it contained five pounds of iron. Now I find only stones. How do you explain this situation?”

Chaunt’s face expressed bewilderment. “I have no explanation whatever! I handed the bag to the juggler Barnwick and asked him to stow it in the cuddy —”

“I never handled the pouch!” declared Barnwick sharply. “You are mistaken!”

“Well, it was either you or someone similar,” said Chaunt. “In the darkness and confusion I might well be mistaken.”

“Chaunt, bring forward the case you are carrying. I wish to inspect the contents.”

Chaunt made a mulish refusal. “I decline on two counts: first, I am a man of honor and I do not care to have my veracity questioned. Secondly, the case contains my life savings, which an unreasonable man might identify as the missing iron.”

Zamp reflected a moment. The concept of the wastrel Chaunt possessing savings of any kind was absurd. On the other hand, if he now undertook to regain his iron, he must instantly pay it out to see the coin lost once and for all. The time and place to deal with Chaunt was Lanteen. He spoke to the erstwhile troupe and crew. “My funds have been pre-empted. I am temporarily unable to satisfy your demands. I suggest that, rather than deploring our misfortunes, we pool our assets, both of talent and funds, in order to renew our destinies. Meanwhile, let us now proceed to Lanteen before the Whants find us here on the beach.”

“Not so fast,” said Chaunt. “I have my paltry savings, true, but I also want my pay. What, may I ask, bulges your pockets out to such an extent?”

“A few personal effects,” said Zamp.

“Jewels and iron from your case?”

“They must be shared!” declared Viliweg. “Give them into the custody of a faithful trustee, such as Bonko or myself, and at Lanteen we will distribute the proceeds.”