Tales of the Dying Earth

by Jack Vance

  Cugel, looking once, then a second time, recognized Yelleg and Malser. Each had enjoyed at least a bottle of wine and possibly two. Yelleg sang a ballad of the sea and Malser sang "Tirra la lirra, we are off to the land where the daisies grow!" in refrain. Preoccupied with the exact rhythm of their music, they brushed past Cugel, looking neither right nor left, and went off along the esplanade toward another tavern, 'The Star of the North'.

  Cugel started to follow, then jumped back at the rumble of approaching wheels. A fine carriage, drawn by a pair of high-stepping perchers, swerved in front of him and rolled off along the esplanade. The driver wore a black velvet suit with silver epaulettes, and a large hat with a curling black plume; beside him sat a buxom lady in an orange gown. Only with difficulty could Cugel identify the driver as Bilberd, former gardener at Flutic. Cugel muttered sourly under his breath: "Bilberd's new career, which I generously offered to finance, has cost me rather more than I expected."

  Early the next morning Cugel left Saskervoy by the east road. He crossed over the hills and came down upon Shanglestone Strand.

  Nearby, the eccentric towers of Flutic rose into the morning sunlight, sharp against the northern murk.

  Cugel approached the manse by a devious route, keeping to the cover of shrubs and hedges, pausing often to listen. He heard nothing; a desolate mood hung in the air.

  Cautiously Cugel circled the manse. The pond came into view. Out in the middle Twango sat in the iron scow, shoulders hunched and neck pulled down. As Cugel watched, Twango hauled in a rope; up from the depths came Gark with a small bucket of slime, which Twango emptied into the tub.

  Twango returned the bucket to Gark who made a chattering sound and dived again into the depths. Twango pulled on a second rope to bring up Gookin with another bucket.

  Cugel retreated to the dark blue mitre-bush. He dug down and, using a folded cloth to protect his hand, retrieved the 'Pectoral Sky-break Spatterlight'.

  Cugel went to take a final survey of the pond. The tub was full. Gark and Gookin, two small figures caked with slime, sat at either end of the scow, while Twango heaved at the overhead rope. Cugel watched a moment, then turned and went his way back to Saskervoy.

  2 THE INN OF BLUE LAMPS

  WHEN Master Soldinck returned to Flutic in search of his missing scales, Cugel decided not to take part in the inquiry. He immediately departed Flutic by an obscure route and set off to the west toward the town Saskervoy.2

  After a period Cugel paused to catch his breath. His mood was bitter. Through the duplicity of underlings he carried, not a valuable parcel of scales, but only a handful of 'ordinaries' and a single 'special' of distinction: the 'Malar Astrangal'. The most precious scale, of all, the 'Pectoral Sky-break Spatterlight', remained hidden in the back garden at Flutic, but Cugel hoped to retain this scale, if only because it was coveted by Iucounu the Laughing Magician.

  Cugel again set off along the road: through a dank forest of thamber oak, yew, mernache and goblin-tree. Wan red sunlight sifted through the foliage; shadows, by some trick of perception, seemed to be stained dark blue.

  Cugel maintained an uneasy watch to either side, as was only prudent during these latter times. He saw much that was strange and sometimes beautiful: white blossoms held high on tall tendrils above spangles of low flat leaves; fairy castles of fungus growing in shelves, terraces and turrets over rotting stumps; patterns of black and orange bracken. Once, indistinct at a distance of a hundred yards, Cugel thought to see a tall man-like shape in a lavender jerkin. Cugel carried no weapon, and he breathed easier when the road, mounting a hillside, broke out into the afternoon daylight.

  At this moment Cugel heard the sound of Soldinck's wagon returning from Flutic. He stepped off the road and waited in the shadow of a rock. The wagon passed by, and Soldinck's grim expression was a convincing sign that his talks with Twango had not gone well.

  The sound of the wagon receded and Cugel resumed his journey. The road crossed over a windy ridge, descended the slope by a series of traverses, then, rounding a bluff, allowed Cugel a view over Saskervoy.

  Cugel had thought to find little more than a village. Saskervoy exceeded his expectations, both in size and in its air of ancient respectability. Tall narrow houses stood side by side along the streets, the stone of their structure weathered by ages of lichen, smoke and sea-fog. Windows glistened and brass-work twinkled in the red sunlight; such was the way at Saskervoy.

  Cugel followed the road down into the town and proceeded toward the harbor. Strangers were evidently a novelty for the folk of Saskervoy. At Cugel's approach, all stopped to stare, and not a few hurriedly crossed the street. They seemed, thought Cugel, a people of old-fashioned habit, and perhaps conservative in their views. The men wore black swallow-tail coats with voluminous trousers and black buckled shoes, while the women, in their shapeless gowns and round punch-bowl hats pulled low, were like dumplings.

  Cugel arrived at a plaza beside the harbor. Several ships of good proportion lay alongside the dock, any one of which might be sailing south, perhaps as far as Almery.

  Cugel went to sit on a bench. He examined the contents of his pouch, discovering sixteen 'ordinaries', two 'specials' of minor value and the 'Malar Astrangal'. Depending upon Soldinck's standards of payment, the scales might or might not cover the costs of a sea voyage.

  Almost directly across the plaza, Cugel noticed a sign affixed to the front of an imposing stone building:

  SOLDINCK AND MERCANTIDES

  EXPORTERS AND IMPORTERS OF QUALITY PRODUCTS

  SHIPPING AGENTS

  Cugel considered a range of strategies, each more subtle than the next. All grounded against a crude and basic reality, in order to take lodging at an inn, he must sell scales to pay his account.

  Afternoon was waning. Cugel rose to his feet. He crossed the plaza and entered the offices of Soldinck and Mercantides.

  The premises were heavy with dignity and tradition; along with the odors of varnish and old wood, the sweet-sour scent of decorum hung in the air. Crossing the hush of a high-ceilinged chamber, Cugel approached a polished brown marble counter. On the other side an old clerk sat frowning into a ledger, and failed to acknowledge Cugel's presence.

  Cugel gave a peremptory rap on the counter.

  "One moment! Patience, if you please!" said the clerk, and went on with his work, despite Cugel's second irritated rap.

  Finally, making the best of circumstances, Cugel set himself to wait upon the clerk's convenience.

  The outer door opened; into the chamber came a man of Cugel's own age, wearing a tall-crowned hat of brown felt and a rumpled suit of blue velvet. His face was round and placid; tufts of pale hair like wisps of hay protruded from under his hat. His belly pressed forward the front of his coat, and a pair of broad buttocks rode upon two long spindle-shanked legs.

  The newcomer advanced to the counter; the clerk jumped to his feet with alacrity. "Sir, how may I be of assistance?"

  Cugel stepped forward in annoyance and raised his finger. "One moment! My business remains to be dealt with!"

  The others paid him no heed. The newcomer said: "My name is Bunderwal, and I wish to see Soldinck."

  "This way, sir! I am happy to say that Soldinck is at liberty."

  The two departed the room, while Cugel fumed with impatience.

  The clerk returned. He started to go to his ledger, then noticed Cugel. "Did you want something?"

  "I also require a few words with Soldinck," said Cugel haughtily. "Your methods are incorrect. Since I entered the chamber first, you should have dealt first with my affairs."

  The clerk blinked. "The idea, I must say, has an innocent simplicity in its favor. What is your business with Soldinck?"

  "I want to arrange passage by the quickest and most comfortable means to Almery."

  The clerk went to study a wall map. "I see no mention of such a place."

  "Almery lies below the bottom edge of the map."

  The clerk gave Cugel a wondering
glance. "That is a far distance. Well, come along; perhaps Soldinck will see you."

  'You need merely announce the name 'Cugel'."

  The clerk led the way to the end of a hall and pushed his head through a pair of hangings. "A certain 'Cugel' is here to see you."

  There was a moment of strained silence, then Soldinck's voice came in response: "Well then, Diffin: what does he want?"

  "Transport to a possibly imaginary land, as best I can make out."

  "Hmmf . . . .Show him in."

  Diffin held aside the hangings for Cugel, then shuffled back the way he had come. Cugel entered an octagonal chamber furnished in austere luxury. Soldinck, gray-haired and stern-faced, stood beside an octagonal table while Bunderwal sat on a couch upholstered in maroon plush. Crimson sunlight, entering through high windows, illuminated a pair of barbaric wall-hangings, woven in the backlands of Far Cutz. A heavy black iron chandelier hung by an iron chain from the ceiling.

  Cugel rendered Soldinck a formal greeting, which Soldinck acknowledged without warmth. "What is your business, Cugel? I am consulting Bunderwal on matters of importance and I can spare only a moment or two."

  "I will be brief," said Cugel coldly. "Am I correct in assuming that you ship scales to Almery at the command of Iucounu the Magician?"

  "Not entirely," said Soldinck. "We convey the scales to our factor at Port Perdusz, who then arranges trans-shipment."

  "Why, may I ask, do you not ship directly to Almery?"

  "It is not practical to venture so far south."

  Cugel frowned in annoyance. "When does your next ship leave for Port Perdusz?"

  "The Galante sails before the week is out."

  "And what are the charges for passage to Port Perdusz?"

  "We carry only select passengers. The charges, so I believe, are three hundred terces: a sum —" and here Soldinck's voice became somewhat lofty "— perhaps beyond your competence."

  "Not at all. I have here a number of scales which should bring considerably more than that amount."

  Soldinck showed a flicker of interest. "I will at least look them over."

  Cugel displayed his scales. "Notice especially this very fine 'Malar Astrangal'!"

  "It is a decent specimen, despite the greenish tinge to the marathaxus." Soldinck scanned the scales with a practiced eye. "I value the lot generously at approximately one hundred and eighty-three terces."

  The sum was twenty terces more than Cugel had dared hope for. He started to make an automatic protest, then thought better of it. "Very well; the scales are yours."

  "Take them to Diffin; he will give you your money." Soldinck gestured toward the hangings.

  "Another matter. From curiosity, what will you pay for the 'Pectoral Sky-break Spatterlight'?"

  Soldinck looked up sharply. "You have custody of this scale?"

  "For the moment let us think in hypothetical cases."

  Soldinck raised his eyes to the ceiling. "If it were in prime condition, I might well risk as much as two hundred terces."

  Cugel nodded. "And why should you not, since Iucounu will pay two thousand terces or even more?"

  "I suggest then that you take this hypothetical item directly to Iucounu. I can even suggest a convenient route. If you return eastward along Shanglestone Strand, you will come to Hag Head and the Castle Cil. Veer south to avoid the Great Erm, which you will find to be infested with erbs and leucomorphs. The Mountains of Magnatz lie ahead of you; they are extremely dangerous, but if you try to bypass them you must risk the Desert of Obelisks. Of the lands beyond I know little."

  "I have some acquaintance with these lands," said Cugel. "I prefer passage aboard the Galante."

  "Mercantides insists that we transport only persons in our own employ. We are chary of well-spoken passengers who, at a given signal, become merciless pirates."

  "I will be pleased to accept a position with your firm," said Cugel. "I have capabilities of many sorts; I believe that you will find me useful."

  Soldinck smiled a cold brief smile. Unfortunately, a single post is open at the moment, that of supercargo aboard the Galante, for which I already have a qualified applicant, namely Bunderwal."

  Cugel gave Bunderwal a careful inspection. "He seems to be a modest, decent and unassuming person, but definitely not a sound choice for the position of supercargo."

  "And why do you say that?"

  "If you will notice," said Cugel, "Bunderwal shows the drooping nostrils which indicate an infallible tendency toward sea-sickness."

  "Cugel is a man of discernment!" declared Bunderwal. "I would rate him an applicant of fair to good quality, and I urge you to ignore his long spatulate fingers which I last noticed on Larkin the baby-stealer. There is a significant difference between the two: Larkin has been hanged and Cugel has not been hanged."

  Cugel said: "We are posing problems for poor Soldinck, who already has worries enough. Let us be considerate. I suggest that we trust our fortunes to Mandingo the three-eyed Goddess of Luck." He brought a packet of playing cards from his pouch.

  "The idea has merit," said Bunderwal. "But let us use my cards which are newer and easier for the eyes of Soldinck."

  Cugel frowned. He gave his head a decisive shake and replaced the cards in his pouch. "As I analyze the situation, I see that despite your inclinations — I am truly sorry to say this, Bunderwal — it is not proper to deal with Soldinck's important affairs in so frivolous a fashion. I suggested it only as a test. A person of the proper qualities would have rejected the idea out of hand!"

  Soldinck was favorably impressed. "On the mark, Cugel!"

  "Allow me to suggest a comprehensive program," said Cugel. "By reason of my wide experience and better address, I will accept the post of supercargo. Bunderwal, so I believe, will make an excellent understudy to Diffin the clerk."

  Soldinck turned to Bunderwal: "What do you say to this?"

  "Cugel's qualifications are impressive," Bunderwal admitted.

  "Against them I can counterpose only honesty, skill, dedication, and timeless industry. Further, I am a dignified citizen of the area, not a fox-faced vagabond in an over-fancy hat."

  Cugel turned to Soldinck: "At last — and we are lucky in this — Bunderwal's style, which consists of slander and vituperation, can be contrasted with my own dignity and restraint. I still must point out his oily skin and over-large buttocks; they indicate a bent for high-living and even a tendency toward peculation. If indeed you hire Bunderwal as under-clerk, I suggest that all locks be reinforced, for the better protection of your valuables."

  Bunderwal cleared his throat to speak, but Soldinck held up his hands. "Gentlemen, I have heard enough! I will discuss your qualifications with Mercantides, who may well wish to interview you both. Tomorrow at noon I will have further news for you."

  Cugel bowed. "Thank you, sir." He turned to Bunderwal and indicated the hangings. "You may go, Bunderwal. I wish a private word with Soldinck."

  Bunderwal started to protest but Cugel said: "I must discuss the sale of valuable scales."

  Bunderwal reluctantly departed. Cugel turned to Soldinck. "During our discussion, the 'Spatterlight' was mentioned."

  "True. You never defined the exact state of your control over this scale."

  "Nor will I do so now, except to emphasize that the scale is safely hidden. If I were attacked by footpads, their efforts would fail. I mention this only to save us both inconvenience."

  Soldinck showed a grim smile. "Your claims as to 'comprehensive experience' would seem to be well-founded."

  Cugel collected the sum of one hundred and eighty-three terces from Diffin, who counted out the coins three times, and passed them only reluctantly across the brown marble counter. Cugel swept the terces into his pouch, then departed the premises.

  Recalling the advice of Weamish, Cugel took lodging at The Inn of Blue Lamps. For his supper he consumed a platter of roasted blowfish, with side dishes of carbade, yams and sluteberry mash. Leaning back over wine and cheese, he su
rveyed the company.

  Across the room, at a table beside the fireplace, two men began to play at cards. The first was tall and thin with a cadaverous complexion, bad teeth in a long jaw, lank black hair and drooping eyelids. The second displayed a powerful physique, a heavy nose and jaw, a top-knot of red hair and a fine glinting red beard.

  To augment their game, they cast about for other players. The tall man cried out: "Hoy there, Fursk! What about a round at Skax? No?"

  The man with the red beard called: "There's good Sabtile, who never refuses a game! Sabtile, this way with your full purse and bad luck! Excellent."

  "Who else? What about you there, with the long nose and fancy hat?"

  Cugel diffidently approached the table. "What game do you play? I warn you, at cards I am a hopeless duffer."

  "The game is Skax, and we don't care how you play, so long as you cover your bets."

  Cugel smiled politely. "If only to be sociable, I will venture a hand or two, but you must teach me the fine points of the game."

  The red-bearded man guffawed. "No fear! You will learn them as fast as the hands are dealt! I am Wagmund; this is Sabtile and this saturnine cutthroat is Koyman, embalmer to the town Saskervoy and a most reputable citizen. Now then! The rules for Skax are thus and so." Wagmund went on to explain the mode of play, emphasizing his points by pounding the table with a blunt forefinger. "So then, Cugel, is this all clear? Do you think you will be able to cope with the game? Remember, all bets must be made in solid terces. One may not hold his cards beneath the table or move them back and forth in a suspicious manner."

  "I am both inexperienced and cautious," said Cugel. "Still, I think I understand the game and I will risk two, no three, terces, and I hereby bet one discrete, solid and whole terce on the first sally."

  "That's the spirit, Cugel!" said Wagmund approvingly.

  "Koyman, distribute the cards, if you will!"

  "First," Sabtile pointed out, "you must place out your own bet!"

  "True," admitted Wagmund. "See that you do the same."