Finally we reached the summit. I stopped short of the pivot, of course, but I told the emperor to go on without me if he wished. He did this and peered over the edge, accompanied by a number of his important courtiers.
He stood there for a short time, then he walked back to me. He said, “Ah, you have done a fine job for me there. What a height that is!” But it was clear to me he was secretly disappointed, for otherwise why would he have stayed there for so short a time?
The emperor politely asked me a number of questions about the luma and the details of its construction. Most of the other courtiers were gathered around to hear what was said.
I said, “Its structure is simple enough,” then I winked and said, “although it also has its secrets.”
Now, as I talked with the emperor, Lambic Staid remained upon the edge of the precipice along with Vepilla, a young Imperial Bearer who held a great admiration for Lambic and tried to ape his manner.
Lambic said, in a loud voice, “What do you say, Vepilla? I do not think this new luma is such a wondrous thing.”
“No,” said Vepilla. “It is tall, but it is not as frightening as it might be. And I fancy the quality of the construction does not even wet the stick.”
“What is worse,” said Lambic, “this new luma fails to move the soul in the way the original did. But really, what can you expect of this simple man Yreth. After all he knows nothing about spiritual matters.”
“They say he will build cathedrals next,” said Vepilla.
“If I were the emperor,” said Lambic, “the work I have seen here would give me cause to think twice on that score.”
As I have said, he spoke in a loud voice, for he hoped the emperor would hear his words and I would be discredited. Still, the emperor was very courteous, and he pretended not to hear, talking to me instead.
Suddenly, to my enormous surprise and pleasure, the edge of the luma gave way, and Lambic and Vepilla were sent plunging to the ground.
The emperor gave a cry and said, “Oh! What is this? The luma is breaking apart!”
“No,” I said, “it is not breaking apart. Watch and you will see the edge rise up again.”
So he watched, and the edge slowly rose up again, and as it did so, I explained how I had placed a trick latch inside, so such catastrophic events as we had just witnessed might occur from time to time.
The emperor reacted very strangely to the news. First he grew pale as if he would faint, for he realized the danger he had been in just moments before. Then he became angry, and I thought for a moment that he would have me killed on the spot. However, that emotion too soon faded from his features, and it was replaced by a look of the utmost joy and spiritual fulfilment.
“You have done it!” he said. “You have regained for me the trepidation I felt on my first ascent of my luma. Oh, my dear Yreth! How can I thank you enough! I must try it once more, this time with the full knowledge of this peak’s danger.”
Then he walked to the edge again, together with one or two of the braver courtiers and they looked nervously over the edge, down upon the bodies of Lambic Staid and Vepilla so far below. When they came back, they all appeared very frightened and exhilarated.
You can see, then, my prophecy to Lambic Staid was not merely an idle threat but was rather the product of my close relationship with God, for it had pleased Him, in His omniscient wisdom, to toss Lambic Staid from the luma even as the old fool was trying to discredit me with his critical words. And what a bitter irony it was for Lambic Staid that his own death should have astonished the emperor so, raising my reputation to new heights.
A Ninth Section Of The Eleventh Part
In Which I Briefly Describe The Passage Of Many Years
After my triumph with the luma, the emperor was overflowing with gratitude to me, and he insisted I complete the cathedrals without delay, for he knew it was my dearest wish to build them. He put hundreds of slaves and myrmidons under my command to help with the task.
I worked at great speed, but even then it took me five years to complete the three great buildings. When they were finished, they were the wonder of the land.
There is much I could tell about the years I spent building the cathedrals, as well as the years which followed. I remained in the emperor’s service, as his principal stonemage, his dearest friend, and eventually his treasurer. All told, I served him for almost eighteen years, and in that time I built many other wonderful buildings and had numerous exciting adventures.
The events of my life during those years would make a tale of unsurpassed excellence, for there were many brave fights and battles, incredible accomplishments, astonishing travels, and passionate romances.
Still, I think I will not tell those tales here, for I fear they would take up a great many pages, whereas I am growing tired of all this writing and anxious to come to the real meat of my story. And besides, I did not say I would set out my whole life in this book, so if I choose to tell of some parts and not of others, you can have little reason to complain, even if some of the parts I leave out are more interesting than the parts I put in.
Moreover, it strikes me now that my adventures during those eighteen years were of such exceptional interest that I would be a fool to throw them all into just one book. Instead, I would do much better to wait a year or two, and, if the interest is still there, perhaps I will write a second book, describing those fascinating years, for you may be sure they were so rich in event they easily merit a book of their own, and might even be made into two books, or even twenty books, although the events then described would be of a more minute and trivial nature, describing the various walks I took, and the conversations I had, and the meals I ate, and so on.
Let us take those years as dealt with, then.
Now, you will remember Pandrick, the boy I had trained with the leather glove. Well, he had grew into manhood, and became a skilled general, and (thanks to my training) he was much favoured by the emperor for his wit and manners. You would think Pandrick would be grateful to me for opening the happy gates of fortune to him, but this was not the case and he held a stubborn and deep-seated grudge against me. As the emperor grew older and more feeble, Pandrick assumed more power, and—spoilt child!—he resolved to kill me.
While the weather was turning stormy in the Imperial City, I heard news that the birds were singing in Cyprus. This was because King Bellay was now dead, meaning the bounty which had been on my head was lifted.
Clearly, the time had come to leave Saskatoon and return at last to Cyprus, and so I bade farewell to all my closest friends. They wept like children to hear I was leaving, and said I was the finest fellow they had ever known.
Moreover, my dear friend Bitian Teppel, who had become a prominent courtier by that point, as well as attaining great fame as an artist (thanks to my favourable recommendations to the emperor), said to me, “I swore I would be your friend for all eternity, and therefore I must accompany you on your travels.”
I said, “You have already given me an eternity’s worth of your splendid friendship. I declare your promise is fully satisfied.”
He would hear none of this though, and he insisted he must come with me. Since none of my reasoning would shake him, I was obliged to accept Bitian Teppel as my travelling companion.
As for the emperor, he did not fully understand my meaning at first when I told him the sad news, for he had become simple in his mind and could not conceive of me being absent from his court. At length, though, his ears seemed to hear my words true, and he said, “If you are off to catch me another Pulsiter, you will need some money for your purse. Go to my treasury, and take any trinket that strikes your fancy. Do it right away, though, or I will send a sharp arrow through your heart, you rogue.”
Faced with such a threat, you may be sure I went to the treasury at that very moment! I chose a gift for myself which I considered worthy of my talents and long service
to the emperor, then, with the assistance of twenty of the treasury guards, I loaded the gift into various sturdy boxes.
The following night, Bitian and I made a discreet departure from Saskatoon. I carried my wealth on fifteen large ox-wagons. These were principally loaded with gold coins, expensive clothes, and treasures of all kind. I also had a chest as high as your knee and filled with gemstones, all of them large and of the highest quality. I had earned a portion of this great wealth through my building work. The rest was the magnanimous gift the emperor had given me.
We made our way overland across the wild plains, a journey of many weeks, until we reached the Hesperian Mountains. More weeks passed as we wound through the mountain paths and tunnels. It was long distance, surely, but my heart was so light with thoughts of Cyprus I was not fatigued in the least, and rode or walked with a song constantly on my lips.
At last, we arrived at Great Tasker. My old ship, the Moray, was waiting there in the harbour, together with most of the original crew and all twelve of the original myrmidons, who, as you will remember, I had placed upon the ship to guard it when it sailed from Quebec.
(Actually, for many years I had assumed the ship had been lost at sea, for it did not arrive at Great Tasker. However, during my travels in the emperor’s service among the wild lands of the utmost south, I was led, as if by a divine hand, to the very place where the ship was stranded! I knew from this divine intervention that the Moray, which had brought me to America, was destined someday to take me home again. I saw to it the ship was always well maintained and ready to sail with just a few days’ notice.)
When all my treasure was loaded aboard, we set sail to the west, following the route to Cyprus that had been explained to me so many years before by the ghost of Saint Elifax. As the land diminished behind us, I bade farewell to the Saskatoon Empire, knowing my eye would never again behold its lovely walls and towers. Unless I choose to return there one day.
A Tenth Section Of The Eleventh Part
In Which I Tell Of My Voyage Across The Pacific Ocean
We had been at sea for no more than a week when the head slave told me a group of ships were approaching us from the southwest.
“That is not so strange,” I said. “There are many ships which travel these waters, carrying goods for trade.”
“These ships do not look like trading ships,” replied the head slave. “Indeed, it is clear they are warships, for I can make out the great spears upon their prows.”
I took a look for myself then, and could see the ships plainly enough, although I could not make out their prows. Still, slaves have good eyesight, and it is best to trust them in such matters.
I said, “They are probably pirate ships. Tell those slaves upon the sails to give us all the speed they can give us, by hoisting such sails and pulling upon such ropes as will accomplish this. And tell those upon the rudder to turn our ship to the southwest.”
The head slave said, “Sire, forgive my question, but do you not mean for us to turn to the northeast, for the warships lie to the southwest?”
I said, “Did I not say ‘northeast’?”
He said, “No, sire. You said ‘southwest.’”
“That is very strange,” I said. “I meant to say ‘turn to the southwest,’ and indeed, I thought I had said so, but somehow my words came out differently.”
The head slave looked puzzled then, and said, “Sire, if you meant to say ‘southwest,’ then your words came out precisely as you intended, for you said ‘southwest.’”
I suddenly realized he was right, and I had made the mistake for a second time. Still, such mistakes happen now and then, and I thought little enough of it, so I said to the head slave, “A mere slip of the tongue. My meaning, however, should be clear enough, since you cannot imagine I would wish us to sail towards those warships. Therefore, and mark me this time, go to the slave upon the rudder and have him set our course to the southwest.”
“Northeast,” said the slave.
I instantly realized I had made the same mistake for a third time.
Well, that struck me as very strange indeed, for I am ordinarily very careful in my speech, especially when the matter at hand is an urgent one.
They say “Spirits speak through tripping tongues,” and I shuddered now as I realized God’s spirit had been taking possession of my lips as I spoke, and had told me, three times, to sail to the southwest, towards the warships, even though common sense would have told me to fear those ships.
I spoke to my head slave then, saying, “Listen to me well, for God is speaking through my very lips, and I do not wish to offend Him by speaking more than I must. We must sail to the southwest, towards those fearsome warships.”
The head slave said, “Shall I bring the myrmidons upon deck, with spears at the ready.”
I said, “No. We shall sail towards those ships showing not fear, but enthusiasm, and we shall see what Providence places in our hands.”
Well, we sailed to those ships, and they sailed to us, and at length our vessels came together. I stood on deck and waved to the warships, and you may be sure the folk aboard those terrible vessels were astonished to see us approach so fearlessly. After a time, their myrmidons raised spears, and I thought they would strike, but then their weapons were lowered again, and we were allowed us to draw close.
Their ships were very huge, and they rose up over mine like a great wall jutting out of the ocean, even though the Moray was nevertheless a fair size of ship.
I heard a voice shouting, then, and I looked up to see a woman was hailing me. She said, “Accept my apologies. We took you at first to be a trader or a fishing vessel.”
I did not take her meaning, but I knew God was guiding my journey, so I replied, “The mistake was a natural one to make. Think nothing of it.”
Then she said, “Stand back. We will lower nets.”
Well, they lowered nets then, and, since they made no move to climb down the nets, I climbed up them, onto the deck of their ship.
I had no sooner boarded the vessel than I was struck by its awesome size and beauty. I saw huge ballistas placed there, covered in patterns of gold and jewels. The lookout cabins were as large as mansions, and covered with statues and paintings of fearsome animals. As for the decks, they were so wide it would take a man a hundred paces to cross them. In the centre of the craft, a great rectangular opening looked down upon the lower decks. On those decks I saw not only myrmidons, but also such animals as horses and pigs, and food gardens too.
The woman who had hailed me hugged me in greeting. She was in her fifties, I should say, but with dark and weathered skin and short grey hair. Her features were not like those of any American, nor yet were they like those of a Cypriot, or a Kennian, or a Chinese, or any other race I knew. She had a long, narrow nose, a thin face, jutting cheekbones, and narrow lips. An emerald, or some green gem like it, was set into one of her teeth.
There were other men and women there too, who stood behind the captain, dressed in fine clothes, and with many jewels to decorate their persons.
The captain said then, “Welcome. I am Captain Da Qua Yansh.”
I said, “Excellent. I am Yreth.”
“That is a strange name,” she said.
I said, “I find it serves me well when I am travelling in such parts as these.”
She tugged upon her nostril then, saying, “I understand perfectly.” Then she asked, “Do you bring a message from the Ucher Tad?”
I replied, “I bring a message of unsurpassed urgency.” And this was quite true, although she took my meaning to be that the message I brought her was from Ucher Tad, whereas, I knew that, when I delivered the message, it would just be off the top of my own head.
She said, “Tell me the message, friend Yreth.”
I did not to wish to speak too rashly just yet, so I employed a clever ruse to find out more information about
this woman and these warships.
I said, “Before I speak, let me say this. Spies are a constant danger in this world, and it is often difficult to know who is truly a friend and who an enemy. I feel in my heart you are indeed the same brave Captain Da Qua Yansh to whom I must deliver my message, but it occurs to me now you might be some imposter, who has commandeered this vessel through the violent disposal of its famous captain.”
She said, “Ah, you are very wise to consider this. All too often, folk are tricked by first impressions, and, seeing a great ship or a fine uniform, assume without question that all is as it seems. But how may we settle this matter in order to put your mind at rest?”
I said, “I will ask you a number of questions. If you are who you claim, you will certainly know the answers. If your replies satisfy me, I will deliver my secret message.”
She said, “An excellent plan. Ask your questions.”
Well, I thought for a moment, then I said, “What is the extent of your command?”
She said, “These five great warships, of course.”
“And how many myrmidons do you carry?”
“Twelve thousand, upon these ships, although, naturally, there are many more on the entire fleet.”
My ears pricked up at this. “How large is this fleet you speak of?” I asked.
“Why, two hundred ships,” she said. “Surely, though, this fact would be known to any spy who had managed to take my place.”
“Yes, indeed,” I said, “but I fancy only the real captain would be puzzled by my asking the question.”
The Ultimate Stonemage: A Modest Autobiography Page 30