by Jack Vance
The innkeeper bowed in gratification and hurried off to supervise the preparation of Cugel’s dinner.
Cugel made an excellent meal, though the second course, a dish of crayfish stuffed with mince and slivers of scarlet mangoneel, he found a trifle too rich. The roast fowl however could not be faulted and the wine pleased Cugel to such an extent that he ordered a second flask. Maier the innkeeper served the bottle himself and accepted Cugel’s compliments with a trace of complacency. “There is no better wine in Gundar! It is admittedly expensive, but you are a person who appreciates the best.”
“Precisely true,” said Cugel. “Sit down and take a glass with me. I confess to curiosity in regard to this remarkable town.”
The innkeeper willingly followed Cugel’s suggestion. “I am puzzled that you find Gundar remarkable. I have lived here all my life and it seems ordinary enough to me.”
“I will cite three circumstances which I consider worthy of note,” said Cugel, now somewhat expansive by reason of the wine. “First: the bulbous construction of your buildings. Secondly: the contrivance of lenses above the fire, which at the very least must stimulate a stranger’s interest. Thirdly: the fact that the men of Gundar are all stark bald.”
The innkeeper nodded thoughtfully. “The architecture at least is quickly explained. The ancient Gunds lived in enormous gourds. When a section of the wall became weak it was replaced with a board, until in due course the folk found themselves living in houses fashioned completely of wood, and the style has persisted. As for the fire and the projectors, do you not know the world-wide Order of Solar Emosynaries? We stimulate the vitality of the sun; so long as our beam of sympathetic vibration regulates solar combustion, it will never expire. Similar stations exist at other locations: at Blue Azor; on the Isle of Brazel; at the walled city Munt; and in the observatory of the Grand Starkeeper at Vir Vassilis.”
Cugel shook his head sadly. “I hear that conditions have changed. Brazel has long since sunk beneath the waves. Munt was destroyed a thousand years ago by the Dystropes. I have never heard of either Blue Azor or Vir Vassilis, though I am widely traveled. Possibly, here at Gundar, you are the solitary Solar Emosynaries yet in existence.”
“This is dismal news,” declared Maier. “The noticeable enfeeblement of the sun is hereby explained. Perhaps we had best double the fire under our regulator.”
Cugel poured more wine. “A question leaps to mind. If, as I suspect, this is the single Solar Emosynary station yet in operation, who or what regulates the sun when it has passed below the horizon?”
The innkeeper shook his head. “I can offer no explanation. It may be that during the hours of night the sun itself relaxes and, as it were, sleeps, although this is of course sheerest speculation.”
“Allow me to offer another hypothesis,” said Cugel. “Conceivably the waning of the sun has advanced beyond all possibility of regulation, so that your efforts, though formerly useful, are now ineffective.”
Maier threw up his hands in perplexity. “These complications surpass my scope, but yonder stands the Nolde Huruska.” He directed Cugel’s attention to a large man with a deep chest and bristling black beard, who stood at the entrance. “Excuse me a moment.” He rose to his feet and approaching the Nolde spoke for several minutes, indicating Cugel from time to time. The Nolde finally made a brusque gesture and marched across the garden to confront Cugel. He spoke in a heavy voice: “I understand you to assert that no Emosynaries exist other than ourselves?”
“I stated nothing so definitely,” said Cugel, somewhat on the defensive. “I remarked that I had traveled widely and that no other such ‘Emosynary’ agency has come to my attention; and I innocently speculated that possibly none now operate.”
“At Gundar we conceive ‘innocence’ as a positive quality, not merely an insipid absence of guilt,” stated the Nolde. “We are not the fools that certain untidy ruffians might suppose.”
Cugel suppressed the hot remark which rose to his lips, and contented himself with a shrug. Maier walked away with the Nolde and for several minutes the two men conferred, with frequent glances in Cugel’s direction. Then the Nolde departed and the innkeeper returned to Cugel’s table. “A somewhat brusque man, the Nolde of Gundar,” he told Cugel, “but very competent withal.”
“It would be presumptuous of me to comment,” said Cugel. “What, precisely, is his function?”
“At Gundar we place great store upon precision and methodicity,” explained Maier. “We feel that the absence of order encourages disorder; and the official responsible for the inhibition of caprice and abnormality is the Nolde … What was our previous conversation? Ah yes, you mentioned our notorious baldness. I can offer no definite explanation. According to our savants, the condition signifies the final perfection of the human race. Other folk give credence to an ancient legend. A pair of magicians, Astherlin and Mauldred, vied for the favor of the Gunds. Astherlin promised the boon of extreme hairiness, so that the folk of Gundar need never wear garments. Mauldred, to the contrary, offered the Gunds baldness, with all the consequent advantages, and easily won the contest; in fact Mauldred became the first Nolde of Gundar, the post now filled, as you know, by Huruska.” Maier the innkeeper pursed his lips and looked off across the garden. “Huruska, a distrustful sort, has reminded me of my fixed rule to ask all transient guests to settle their accounts on a daily basis. I naturally assured him of your complete reliability, but simply in order to appease Huruska, I will tender the reckoning in the morning.”
“This is tantamount to an insult,” declared Cugel haughtily. “Must we truckle to the whims of Huruska? Not I, you may be assured! I will settle my account in the usual manner.”
The innkeeper blinked. “May I ask how long you intend to stay at Gundar?”
“My journey takes me south, by the most expeditious transport available, which I assume to be riverboat.”
“The town Lumarth lies ten days by caravan across the Lirrh Aing. The Isk river also flows past Lumarth, but is judged inconvenient by virtue of three intervening localities. The Lallo Marsh is infested with stinging insects; the tree-dwarfs of the Santalba Forest pelt passing boats with refuse; and the Desperate Rapids shatter both bones and boats.”
“In this case I will travel by caravan,” said Cugel. “Meanwhile I will remain here, unless the persecutions of Huruska become intolerable.”
Maier licked his lips and looked over his shoulder. “I assured Huruska that I would adhere to the strict letter of my rule. He will surely make a great issue of the matter unless —”
Cugel made a gracious gesture. “Bring me seals. I will close up my purse which contains a fortune in opals and alumes. We will deposit the purse in the strong-box and you may hold it for surety. Even Huruska cannot now protest!”
Maier held up his hands in awe. “I could not undertake so large a responsibility!”
“Dismiss all fear,” said Cugel. “I have protected the purse with a spell; the instant a criminal breaks the seal the jewels are transformed into pebbles.”
Maier dubiously accepted Cugel’s purse on these terms. They jointly saw the seals applied and the purse deposited into Maier’s strong-box.
Cugel now repaired to his chamber, where he bathed, commanded the services of a barber and dressed in fresh garments. Setting his cap at an appropriate angle, he strolled out upon the square.
His steps led him to the Solar Emosynary station. As before, two young men worked diligently, one stoking the blaze and adjusting the five lamps, while the other held the regulatory beam fixed upon the low sun.
Cugel inspected the contrivance from all angles, and presently the person who fed the blaze called out: “Are you not that notable traveler who today expressed doubts as to the efficacy of the Emosynary System?”
Cugel spoke carefully: “I told Maier and Huruska this: that Brazel is sunk below the Melantine Gulf and almost gone from memory; that the walled city Munt was long ago laid waste; that I am acquainted with neither Blue Azor,
nor Vir Vassilis. These were my only positive statements.”
The young fire-stoker petulantly threw an arm-load of logs into the fire-pit. “Still we are told that you consider our efforts impractical.”
“I would not go so far,” said Cugel politely. “Even if the other Emosynary agencies are abandoned, it is possible that the Gundar regulator suffices; who knows?”
“I will tell you this,” declared the stoker. “We work without recompense, and in our spare time we must cut and transport fuel. The process is tedious.”
The operator of the aiming device amplified his friend’s complaint. “Huruska and the elders do none of the work; they merely ordain that we toil, which of course is the easiest part of the project. Janred and I are of a sophisticated new generation; on principle we reject all dogmatic doctrines. I for one consider the Solar Emosynary system a waste of time and effort.”
“If the other agencies are abandoned,” argued Janred the stoker, “who or what regulates the sun when it has passed beyond the horizon? The system is pure balderdash.”
The operator of the lenses declared: “I will now demonstrate as much, and free us all from this thankless toil!” He worked a lever. “Notice I direct the regulatory beam away from the sun. Look! It shines as before, without the slightest attention on our part!”
Cugel inspected the sun, and for a fact it seemed to glow as before, flickering from time to time, and shivering like an old man with the ague. The two young men watched with similar interest, and as minutes passed, they began to murmur in satisfaction. “We are vindicated! The sun has not gone out!”
Even as they watched, the sun, perhaps fortuitously, underwent a cachectic spasm, and lurched alarmingly toward the horizon. Behind them sounded a bellow of outrage and the Nolde Huruska ran forward. “What is the meaning of this irresponsibility? Direct the regulator aright and instantly! Would you have us groping for the rest of our lives in the dark?”
The stoker resentfully jerked his thumb toward Cugel. “He convinced us that the system was unnecessary, and that our work was futile.”
“What!” Huruska swung his formidable body about and confronted Cugel. “Only hours ago you set foot in Gundar, and already you are disrupting the fabric of our existence! I warn you, our patience is not illimitable! Be off with you and do not approach the Emosynary agency a second time!”
Choking with fury, Cugel swung on his heel and marched off across the square.
At the caravan terminal he inquired as to transport southward, but the caravan which had arrived at noon would on the morrow depart eastward the way it had come.
Cugel returned to the inn and stepped into the tavern. He noticed three men playing a card game and posted himself as an observer. The game proved to be a simple version of Zampolio, and presently Cugel asked if he might join the play. “But only if the stakes are not too high,” he protested. “I am not particularly skillful and I dislike losing more than a terce or two.”
“Bah,” exclaimed one of the players. “What is money? Who will spend it when we are dead?”
“If we take all your gold, then you need not carry it further,” another remarked jocularly.
“All of us must learn,” the third player assured Cugel. “You are fortunate to have the three premier experts of Gundar as instructors.”
Cugel drew back in alarm. “I refuse to lose more than a single terce!”
“Come now! Don’t be a prig!”
“Very well,” said Cugel. “I will risk it. But these cards are tattered and dirty. By chance I have a fresh set in my pouch.”
“Excellent! The game proceeds!”
Two hours later the three Gunds threw down their cards, gave Cugel long hard looks, then as if with a single mind rose to their feet and departed the tavern. Inspecting his gains, Cugel counted thirty-two terces and a few odd coppers. In a cheerful frame of mind he retired to his chamber for the night.
In the morning, as he consumed his breakfast, he noticed the arrival of the Nolde Huruska, who immediately engaged Maier the innkeeper in conversation. A few minutes later Huruska approached Cugel’s table and stared down at Cugel with a somewhat menacing grin, while Maier stood anxiously a few paces to the rear.
Cugel spoke in a voice of strained politeness: “Well, what is it this time? The sun has risen; my innocence in the matter of the regulatory beam has been established.”
“I am now concerned with another matter. Are you acquainted with the penalties for fraud?”
Cugel shrugged. “The matter is of no interest to me.”
“They are severe and I will revert to them in a moment. First, let me inquire: did you entrust to Maier a purse purportedly containing valuable jewels?”
“I did indeed. The property is protected by a spell, I may add; if the seal is broken the gems become ordinary pebbles.”
Huruska exhibited the purse. “Notice, the seal is intact. I cut a slit in the leather and looked within. The contents were then and are now —” with a flourish Huruska turned the purse out upon the table “— pebbles identical to those in the road yonder.”
Cugel exclaimed in outrage: “The jewels are now worthless rubble! I hold you responsible and you must make recompense!”
Huruska uttered an offensive laugh. “If you can change gems to pebbles, you can change pebbles to gems. Maier will now tender the bill. If you refuse to pay, I intend to have you nailed into the enclosure under the gallows until such time as you change your mind.”
“Your insinuations are both disgusting and absurd,” declared Cugel. “Innkeeper, present your account! Let us finish with this farrago once and for all.”
Maier came forward with a slip of paper. “I make the total to be eleven terces, plus whatever gratuities might seem in order.”
“There will be no gratuities,” said Cugel. “Do you harass all your guests in this fashion?” He flung eleven terces down upon the table. “Take your money and leave me in peace.”
Maier sheepishly gathered up the coins; Huruska made an inarticulate sound and turned away. Cugel, upon finishing his breakfast, went out once more to stroll across the square. Here he met an individual whom he recognized to be the pot-boy in the tavern, and Cugel signaled him to a halt. “You seem an alert and knowledgeable fellow,” said Cugel. “May I inquire your name?”
“I am generally known as ‘Zeller’.”
“I would guess you to be well-acquainted with the folk of Gundar.”
“I consider myself well-informed. Why do you ask?”
“First,” said Cugel, “let me ask if you care to turn your knowledge to profit?”
“Certainly, so long as I evade the attention of the Nolde.”
“Very good. I notice a disused booth yonder which should serve our purpose. In one hour we shall put our enterprise into operation.”
Cugel returned to the inn where at his request Maier brought a board, brush and paint. Cugel composed a sign:
THE EMINENT SEER CUGEL
Counsels, Interprets, Prognosticates.
ASK! YOU WILL BE ANSWERED!
CONSULTATIONS: Three Terces.
Cugel hung the sign above the booth, arranged curtains and waited for customers. The pot-boy, meanwhile, had inconspicuously secreted himself at the back.
Almost immediately folk crossing the square halted to read the sign. A woman of early middle-age presently came forward.
“Three terces is a large sum. What results can you guarantee?”
“None whatever, by the very nature of things. I am a skilled voyant, I have acquaintance with the arts of magic, but knowledge comes to me from unknown and uncontrollable sources.”
The woman paid over her money. “Three terces is cheap if you can resolve my worries. My daughter all her life has enjoyed the best of health but now she ails, and suffers a morose condition. All my remedies are to no avail. What must I do?”
“A moment, madam, while I meditate.” Cugel drew the curtain and leaned back to where he could hear the pot-boy’s whispe
red remarks, then once again drew aside the curtains.
“I have made myself one with the cosmos! Knowledge has entered my mind! Your daughter Dilian is pregnant. For an additional three terces I will supply the father’s name.”
“This is a fee I pay with pleasure,” declared the woman grimly. She paid, received the information and marched purposefully away.
Another woman approached, paid three terces, and Cugel addressed himself to her problem: “My husband assured me that he had put by a canister of gold coins against the future, but upon his death I could find not so much as a copper. Where has he hidden the gold?”
Cugel closed the curtains, took counsel with the pot-boy, and again appeared to the woman. “I have discouraging news for you. Your husband Finister spent much of his hoarded gold at the tavern. With the rest he purchased an amethyst brooch for a woman named Varletta.”
The news of Cugel’s remarkable abilities spread rapidly and trade was brisk. Shortly before noon, a large woman, muffled and veiled, approached the booth, paid three terces, and asked in a high-pitched, if husky, voice: “Read me my fortune!”
Cugel drew the curtains and consulted the pot-boy, who was at a loss. “It is no one I know. I can tell you nothing.”
“No matter,” said Cugel. “My suspicions are verified.” He drew aside the curtain. “The portents are unclear and I refuse to take your money.” Cugel returned the fee. “I can tell you this much: you are an individual of domineering character and no great intelligence. Ahead lies what? Honors? A long voyage by water? Revenge on your enemies? Wealth? The image is distorted; I may be reading my own future.”
The woman tore away her veils and stood revealed as the Nolde Huruska. “Master Cugel, you are lucky indeed that you returned my money, otherwise I would have taken you up for deceptive practices. In any event, I deem your activities mischievous, and contrary to the public interest. Gundar is in an uproar because of your revelations; there will be no more of them. Take down your sign, and be happily thankful that you have escaped so easily.”