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Cugel

Page 6

by Jack Vance


  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 Skybreak 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 tireless 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 we 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. Cu
gel 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 surveyed 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.”

  “No fear of that; I am known for my quick and clever style of play.”

  “Fewer boasts and more money!” called Koyman. “I await your terces!”

  “What of your own bet, my good stealer of ornamental gold sphincter-clasps* from the corpses entrusted into your care?”

  *

  An awkward rendering of the more succinct Anfangel dongobel.

  “An oversight: simply that and no more.”

  The play proceeded. Cugel lost eleven terces, and drank two mugs of the local beer: a pungent liquid brewed from acorns, bittermoss and black sausage. Presently Cugel was able to introduce his own cards into the game, whereupon his luck changed and he quickly won thirty-eight terces, with Wagmund, Koyman and Sabtile crying out and smiting their foreheads in disbelief at the unfavorable consequences of their play.

  Into the common room ambled Bunderwal. He called for beer and for a space stood watching the game, teetering up and down on his toes and smoking dried herbs in a long-stemmed clay pipe. He seemed a skillful analyst of the game, and from time to time called out his approval of good play, while chaffing the losers for their blunders. “Ah then, Koyman, why did you not play down your Double-red and sweep the field before Cugel beat you with his Green Varlets?”

  Koyman snapped: “Because the last time I did so, Cugel brought out the Queen of Devils and destroyed my hopes.” Koyman rose to his feet. “I am destitute. Cugel, at least tender me a beer from your winnings.”

  “With pleasure!” Cugel called the serving boy. “Beer for Koyman and also for Bunderwal!”

  “Thank you.” Koyman signaled Bunderwal to his place. “You may try your luck against Cugel, who plays with uncanny skill.”

  “I will try him for a terce or two. Ho boy! Bring fresh cards, and throw away these limp old rags! Some are short, some are long; some are stained; others show strange designs.”

  “New cards by all means,” cried Cugel heartily. “Still I will take these old cards and use them for practice. Bunderwal, where is your bet?”

  Bunderwal placed out a terce and distributed the new cards with a fluttering agility of the fingers which caused Cugel to blink.

  Several sallies were played out, but luck had deserted Cugel. He relinquished his chair to another and went to stand behind Bunderwal, in order to study the manner in which Bunderwal conducted his play.

  After winning ten terces, Bunderwal declared that he wanted no more gaming for the evening. He turned to Cugel. “Allow me to invest some of my winnings in a noble purpose: the ingestion of good beer. This way; I see a couple of chairs vacant by the wall. Boy! Two mugs of the best Tatterblass!”

  “Right, sir!” The boy saluted and ran down into the still-room.

  Bunderwal put away his pipe. “Well, Cugel: what do you think of Saskervoy?”

  “It seems a pleasant community, with prospects for the earnest worker.”

  “Exactly so, and in fact it is to this subject that I address myself. First, I drink to your continued prosperity.”

  “I will drink to prosperity in the abstract,” said Cugel cautiously. “I have had little experience of it.”

  “What? With your dexterity at Skax? My eyes are crossed from the attempt to follow your flamboyant flourishes.”

  “A foolish mannerism,” said Cugel. “I must learn to play with less display.”

  “It is no great matter,” said Bunderwal. “Of more importance is that employment offered by Soldinck, which already has prompted several regrettable interchanges.”

  “True,” said Cugel. “Let me make a suggestion.”

  “I am always open to new concepts.”

  “The supercargo possibly controls other posts aboard the Galante. If you will —”

  Bunderwal held up his hand. “Let us be realistic. I perceive you to be a man of decision. Let us put our case to the test here and now, and let Mandingo determine who applies for the position and who stands aloof.”

  Cugel brought out his cards. “Will you play Skax or Zampolio?”

  “Neither,” said Bunderwal. “We must settle upon a test where the outcome is not fore-ordained … Notice the glass yonder, where Krasnark the landlord keeps his sphigales.” Bunderwal indicated a glass-sided box. Within resided a number of crustaceans, which, when broiled, were considered a notable delicacy. The typical sphigale measured eight inches in length, with a pair of powerful pincer-claws and a whip-tail sting.

  “These creatures show different temperaments,” said Bunderwal. “Some are fast, some slow. Choose one and I will choose another. We will set our racers upon the floor and the first to reach the opposite wall wins the test.”

  Cugel studied the sphigales. “They are mettlesome beasts, no question as to this.” One of the sphigales, a creature striped red, yellow and an unpleasant chalk-blue, caught his eye. “Very well; I have selected my racer.”

  “Extract him with the tongs, but take care! They use both pincers and sting with a will.”

&
nbsp; Working discreetly so as to avoid attention, Cugel seized his racer with the tongs and placed it on the line; Bunderwal did likewise.

  Bunderwal addressed his beast: “Good sphigale, run your best; my future hangs on your speed! At the ready! Take position! Go!”

  Both men lifted their tongs and discreetly departed the vicinity of the tank. The sphigales ran out across the floor. Bunderwal’s racer, noticing the open doorway, turned aside and fled into the night. Cugel’s sphigale took refuge in the boot removed by Wagmund that he might warm his feet at the fire.

  “I declare both contestants disqualified,” said Bunderwal. “We must test our destiny by other means.”

  Cugel and Bunderwal resumed their seats. After a moment Bunderwal conceived a new scheme. “The still-room is beyond this wall and half a level lower. To avoid collisions, the serving-boys descend by the steps on the right, and come up with their trays by the steps to the left. Each passageway is closed outside of working hours by one of those heavy sliding shutters. As you will observe, the shutters are held up by a chain. Notice further. This chain here to hand controls the shutter to the stairs on the left, up which the serving boys come with their beer and other orders. Thirdly, each of the serving boys wears a round pill-box cap, to keep his hair out of the food. The game we play is this. Each man in turn adjusts the chain, and he is obliged to lower the shutter by one or more links. At length one of the boys will brush off his cap on the bottom bar of the shutter. When this occurs the man last to touch the chain loses the wager and must relinquish all claim to the post of supercargo.”

  Cugel considered the chain, the shutter which slid up and down to close off the passageway, and appraised the serving boys.

  “The boys vary somewhat in height,” Bunderwal pointed out, “with perhaps three inches separating the shortest from the most tall. On the other hand, I believe that the tallest boy is inclined to hunch down his head. It makes for an intricate strategy.”

  Cugel said: “I must stipulate that neither of us may signal, call or cause distractions calculated to upset the pure logic of the game.”

 

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