Cugel Page 16

Nisbet dissolved the quandary. “Naturally, Dame Tadouc, cobble the boots to fit! Why would Cugel place an order specifically for ill-fitting boots?”

  “For a moment I was perplexed,” said Dame Tadouc. “Now I must run home to cut leather. I have a hide taken from the back of an old bull bauk and I will make you boots to last your life’s span or until the sun goes out, whichever is the sooner. In either case, you will lack all further need for boots. Well then, to work.”

  On the following day the boots were delivered, and, in response to Cugel’s specifications, they matched Nisbet’s boots in every particular save size.

  Nisbet examined the boots with approval. “Dame Tadouc has applied a dressing which is good enough for common folk, but as soon as it wears off and the leather acquires a thirst, we shall apply ossip wax and your boots will then be as strong as my own.”

  Cugel enthusiastically clapped his hands together. “To celebrate the arrival of these boots I suggest another gala evening!”

  “Why not? A fine pair of boots is something to celebrate!”

  The two dined on broad-beans and bacon, marsh-hens stuffed with mushrooms, sour-grass and olives and a hunch of cheese. With these dishes they consumed three bottles of that Xei Cambael wine known as ‘Silver Hyssop’. Such was the information supplied by Nisbet, who, as an antiquarian, had studied many of the ancient scripts. As they drank, they toasted not only Dame Tadouc, but also that long-dead wine-merchant whose bounty they now enjoyed, though indeed the wine seemed perhaps a trifle past its prime.

  As before, Nisbet became fuddled and lay down on the couch for a nap. Cugel unclasped the five-sided amulet and returned to his experiments.

  His new boots, despite their similarity to those of Nisbet, lacked all useful effect, save that for which they were intended, while Nisbet’s boots, alone or in conjunction with the amulet, defeated gravity with ease.

  Most peculiar! thought Cugel, as he replaced the amulet on Nisbet’s chain. The only difference between the two pairs of boots was the dressing of ossip wax — from berries gathered in the garden of Makke the Maugifer.

  To ransack the clutter of generations in search of a pot of boot-dressing was not a task to be undertaken lightly. Cugel went off to his own couch.

  In the morning Cugel told Nisbet: “We have been working hard, and it is time for a little holiday. I suggest that we stroll over to yonder bluff and there survey the gardens of Makke the Maugifer. We can also pick ossip berries for boot-dressing, and — who knows? — we might come upon another amulet.”

  “A sound idea,” said Nisbet. “Today I too lack zest for work.”

  The two set off across the plain toward the bluff: a distance of a mile. Cugel towed a sack containing their needs which Nisbet had touched with his amulet and kicked, in order to negate the weight.

  By an easy route they climbed the bluff and approached Makke’s garden.

  “Nothing is left,” said Nisbet sadly. “Save only the ossip tree, which seems to flourish despite neglect. That heap of rubble is all that remains of Makke’s manse, which was built five-sided like the amulet.”

  Cugel approached the heap of stones, and thought to notice a wisp of vapor rising through the cracks. He went close and dropping to his knees moved several of the stones. To his ears came the sound of a voice, and then another, engaged in what seemed an excited dialogue. So faint and elusive were the voices that words could not be distinguished and Nisbet, when Cugel summoned him to the crevice, could hear no sounds whatever.

  Cugel drew back from the mound. To move the rocks might yield magical treasures, or, more likely, some unimaginable woe. Nisbet was of a like mind and the two moved somewhat back from the ruined manse. Sitting on a slab of mouldering stone, they ate a lunch of bread, cheese, spiced sausage and onions, washed down with pots of village-brewed beer.

  A few yards away the ossip tree extended heavy branches from a gnarled silver-gray trunk five feet in diameter. Silver-green berries hung in clusters from the end of every twig, each berry a waxy sphere half an inch in diameter.

  After Cugel and Nisbet had finished their lunch, they plucked berries sufficient to fill four sacks, which Nisbet caused to float in the air. Trailing their harvest behind them, the two returned to the quarry.

  Nisbet brought out a great cauldron and set water to boiling, then added berries. Presently a scum formed on the surface. “There is the wax,” said Nisbet, and skimmed it off into a basin. Four times the process was repeated, until all the berries had been boiled and the basin was filled with wax.

  “We have done a good day’s work,” announced Nisbet. “I see no reason why we should not dine accordingly. There are a pair of excellent fillets in the larder, provided by Dame Petish who is butcher to the town. If you will kindly lay a fire I will look through the closet for appropriate wine.”

  Once again Cugel and Nisbet sat down to a repast of heartening proportions, but as Nisbet worked to open a second flask of wine, the sound of slamming doors and the thud of heavy footsteps reached their ears.

  An instant later a woman tall and portly, massive in arm and leg, with a bony jaw, a broken nose and coarse red hair, entered the room.

  Nisbet laboriously heaved himself to his feet. “Dame Sequorce! I am surprised to see you here this time of night.”

  Dame Sequorce surveyed the table with disapproval. “Why are you not out shaping my segments which are long overdue?”

  Nisbet spoke with cool hauteur: “Today Cugel and I attended to important business, and now, as is our habit, we dine. You may return in the morning.”

  Dame Sequorce paid no heed. “You take your morning meal far too late and your evening meal far too early, and you drink overmuch wine. Meanwhile my husband huddles well below the husbands of Dame Petish, Dame Haxel, Dame Croulsx and others. Since kindliness has no effect, I have decided to try a new tactic, for which I use the term ‘fear’. In three words: if you do not gratify my needs in short order, I will bring my sisters here and perform a serious mischief.”

  Nisbet employed the gentle voice of pure reason: “If I acceded to your request —” “Not a request; a threat!” “— the other women of the town might also try to intimidate me, to the detriment of orderly business.”

  “I care nothing for your problems! Provide my segments, at once!”

  Cugel rose to his feet. “Dame Sequorce, your conduct is singularly gross. Once and for all, Nisbet will not be coerced! He will provide you your segments in his own good time. He now demands that you leave the premises, and on quiet feet!”

  “Nisbet now makes demands, does he?” Striding forward, Dame Sequorce seized Nisbet’s beard. “I did not come to listen to your braggadocio!” She gave the beard a sharp tweak, then stepped back. “I am going, but only because I have delivered my message, which I hope you will take seriously!”

  Dame Sequorce departed, leaving behind a heavy silence. At last Nisbet spoke in falsely hearty tones: “A dramatic incursion, to be sure! I must have Dame Wyxsco look to the locks. Come, Cugel! Return to your supper!”

  The two continued with their meal, but the festive mood could not be recaptured. Cugel at last said: “What we need is a stock, or repository, of segments ready for raising, so that we can gratify these prideful women on demand.”

  “No doubt,” said Nisbet. “But how is this to be done?”

  Cugel tilted his head cautiously sidewise. “Are you ready for unorthodox procedures?”

  With a bravado conferred partly by wine and partly by Dame Sequorce’s rude handling of his beard, Nisbet declared: “I am a man to stop at nothing when circumstances cry out for deeds!”

  “In that case, let us get to work,” said Cugel. “The whole night lies before us! We shall demolish our problems once and for all! Bring lamps.”

  Despite his brave words Nisbet followed Cugel with hesitant steps. “Exactly what do you have in mind?”

  Cugel refused to discuss his plan until they reached the columns. Here he signaled the laggard Nisbet to greater s
peed. “Time is of the essence! Bring the lamp to this first column.”

  “That is the column of Fidix.”

  “No matter. Put down the lamp, then touch the column with your amulet and kick it very gently: no more than a brush. First, let me secure the column with this rope … Good. Now, apply amulet and kick!”

  Nisbet obeyed; the column momentarily became weightless, during which interval Cugel extricated the ‘One’ segment and pushed it aside. After a few seconds the magic dissipated and the column returned to its former position.

  “Observe!” cried Cugel. “A segment which we shall renumber and sell to Dame Sequorce, and a fig for her nuisances!”

  Nisbet uttered a protest: “Fidix will surely notice the deduction!”

  Cugel smilingly shook his head. “Improbable. I have watched the men climbing their columns. They come out blinking and half asleep. They trouble to look at nothing but the state of the weather and the rungs of their ladders.”

  Nisbet pulled dubiously at his beard. “Tomorrow, when Fidix climbs his column, he will find himself unaccountably lower by a segment.”

  “That is why we must remove the ‘One’ from every column. So now to work! There are many segments to move.”

  With dawn lightening the sky Cugel and Nisbet towed the last of the segments to a hiding place behind a pile of rocks on the floor of the quarry. Nisbet now affected a tremulous joy. “For the first time a sufficiency of segments is conveniently to hand. Our lives shall now flow more smoothly. Cugel, you have a fine and resourceful mind!”

  “Today we must work as usual. Then, in the unlikely event that the subtractions are noticed, we shall merely disclaim all knowledge of the affair, or blame it on the Maots.”

  “Or we could claim that the weight of the columns had pushed the ‘Ones’ into the ground.”

  “True. Nisbet, we have done a good night’s work!”

  The sun moved into the sky, and the first contingent of men straggled out from the village. As Cugel had predicted, each climbed to the top of his column and arranged himself without any display of doubt or perplexity, and Nisbet uttered a hollow laugh of relief.

  Over the next few weeks Cugel and Nisbet satisfied a large number of orders, though never in such profusion as to arouse comment. Dame Sequorce was allowed two segments, rather than the three she had demanded, but she was not displeased. “I knew I could get what I wanted! To gain the satisfaction of one’s wishes one needs only to propose unpleasant alternatives. I will order two more segments shortly when I can afford your exorbitant prices; in fact, you may begin work on them now, so that I need not wait. Eh, Nisbet? Do you remember how I pulled your beard?”

  Nisbet responded with formal politeness. “I will make a note of your order, and it will be fulfilled in its proper sequence.”

  Dame Sequorce responded only with a coarse laugh and went her way.

  Nisbet gave a despondent sigh. “I had hoped that a flow of segments would glut our customers, but, if anything, we seem to have stimulated demand. Dame Petish, for instance, is annoyed that Dame Cillincx’s husband now sits on the same level as Petish himself. Dame Viberl fancies herself the leader of society, and insists that two segments separate Viberl from his social inferiors.”

  Cugel shrugged. “We can only do what is possible.”

  In unexpectedly short order the segments of the stockpile were distributed, and the women of the town once again became importunate. Cugel and Nisbet discussed the situation at length, and decided to meet excessive demands with absolute obduracy.

  Certain of the women, however, taking note of Dame Sequorce’s success, began to make ever more categorical threats. Cugel and Nisbet at last accepted the inevitable and one night went out to the columns and removed all the ‘Twos’. As before, the men noticed nothing. Cugel and Nisbet attempted to fill the backlog of orders, and the antique urn in which Nisbet stored his terces filled to overflowing.

  One day a young woman came to confer with Nisbet. “I am Dame Mupo; I have been wed only a week, but it is time to start a column for Mupo, who is somewhat delicate and in need of upper level flux. I have inspected the area and selected a site, but as I walked among the columns I noted an odd circumstance. The bottom segments are numbered ‘Three’ rather than ‘One’, which would seem to be more usual. What is the reason for this?”

  Nisbet started to stammer, and Cugel quickly entered the conversation. “This is an innovation designed to help young families such as your own. For instance, Viberl enjoys pure and undiluted radiance on his ‘Twenty-four’. By starting you off with a ‘Three’ instead of a ‘One’, you are only twenty-one blocks below him, rather than twenty-three.”

  Dame Mupo nodded her comprehension. “That is helpful indeed!”

  Cugel went on to say: “We do not publicize the matter, since we cannot be all things to all people. Just regard this service as Nisbet’s kindly assistance to you personally, and since poor Mupo is not in the best of health, we will provide you not only your ‘Three’ but your ‘Four’ as well. But you must say nothing of this to anyone, not even Mupo, as we cannot extend these favors everywhere.”

  “I understand completely! No one shall know!”

  On the next day Dame Petish appeared at the quarry. “Nisbet, my niece has just married Mupo and brings me a peculiar and garbled story about ‘Threes’ and ‘Fours’ which, frankly, I cannot understand. She claims that your man Cugel promised her a segment at no charge, as a service to young families. I am interested because next week another niece is marrying, and if you are giving two segments for the price of one it is only fair that you deal in the same manner with an old and valued customer such as myself.”

  Cugel said smoothly: “My explanation confused Dame Mupo. Recently we have noticed vagrants and vagabonds among the columns. We warned them off, and then, to confuse would-be thieves, we altered our numerative system. In practice, nothing is changed; you need not concern yourself.”

  Dame Petish departed, dubiously shaking her head. She paused by the columns and looked them up and down for several minutes, then returned to the village.

  Nisbet said nervously: “I hope no one else comes asking questions. Your answers are remarkable and confuse even me, but others may be more incisive.”

  “I imagine that we have heard the last of the matter,” said Cugel, and the two returned to work.

  During the early afternoon Dame Sequorce came out from the village with several of her sisters. They paused several minutes by the columns, then continued to the quarry.

  Nisbet said in a quavering voice: “Cugel, I appoint you spokesman for the concern. Be good enough to mollify these ladies.”

  “I will do my best,” said Cugel. He went out to confront Dame Sequorce. “Your segments are not yet ready. You may return in a week.”

  Dame Sequorce seemed not to hear. She turned her pale blue eyes around the quarry. “Where is Nisbet?”

  “Nisbet is indisposed. Our delivery time is once again a month or more, since we must quarry more white-stone. I am sorry, but we cannot oblige you any sooner.”

  Dame Sequorce fixed her gaze full upon Cugel. “Where are the ‘Ones’ and ‘Twos’? Why are they gone so that the ‘Threes’ rest on the ground?”

  Cugel feigned surprise. “Is this really the case? Very odd. Still, nothing is permanent and the ‘Ones’ and ‘Twos’ may have crumbled into dust.”

  “There is no evidence of such dust around the base of the columns.”

  Cugel shrugged. “Since the columns remain at their relative elevations, no great damage has been done.”

  From the back of the quarry one of Dame Sequorce’s sisters came running. “We have found a pile of segments hidden behind some rocks, and all are ‘Twos’!”

  Dame Sequorce gave Cugel a brief side-glance, then turned and strode back to the village, followed by her sisters.

  Cugel went glumly into Nisbet’s abode. Nisbet had been listening from behind the door. “All things change,” said Cugel. “It is
now time to leave.”

  Nisbet jumped back in shock. “‘Leave’? My wonderful house? My antiques and famous bibelots? That is unthinkable!”

  “I fear that Dame Sequorce will not stop with simple criticism. Remember her dealings with your beard?”

  “I do indeed, and this time I will defend myself!” Nisbet went to a cabinet and selected a sword. “Here is the finest steel of Old Kharai! Here, Cugel! Another blade of equal worth in a splendid harness! Wear it with pride!”

  Cugel buckled the ancient sword about his waist. “Defiance is all very well but a whole skin is better. I suggest that we prepare for all eventualities.”

  “Never!” cried Nisbet in a passion. “I will stand in the doorway of my house and the first to attack shall feel the edge of my sword!”

  “They will stand back and throw rocks.” said Cugel.

  Nisbet paid no heed and went to the doorway. Cugel reflected a moment, then carried various goods to the wagon left by the Maot traders: food, wine, rugs, garments. In his pouch he placed a pot of ossip boot-dressing, after first anointing his boots, and two handfuls of terces from Nisbet’s urn. A second pot of boot-dressing he tossed upon the wagon.

  Cugel was interrupted in his work by an excited call from Nisbet. “Cugel! They are coming, at speed! They are like an army of raging beasts!”

  Cugel went to the door and surveyed the oncoming women. “You and your valiant sword may deter this horde from the front door, but they will merely enter from the back. I suggest withdrawal. The wagon is ready.”

  Reluctantly Nisbet went to the wagon. He looked over Cugel’s preparations. “Where are my terces? You load boot-dressing but no terces! Is that sensible?”

  “The boot-dressing, and not your amulet, defies gravity. The urn was too heavy to carry.”

  Nisbet nevertheless ran inside and staggered out with his urn, spilling terces behind him.

  The women were now close at hand. Observing the wagon they emitted a great roar of wrath. “Villains, halt!” cried Dame Sequorce. Neither Cugel nor Nisbet heeded her command.

  Nisbet brought his urn to the wagon and loaded it with the other goods but when he tried to climb to the seat he fell, and Cugel had to lift him aboard. Cugel kicked the wagon and gave it a great push so that it floated away into the air, but when Cugel tried to jump upon the wagon, he lost his footing and fell to the ground.