Cugel Page 31

  Cugel stepped up on the dais before his exhibit. “Your Grace, I present for your inspection a legitimate marvel: not a straggle of insects, not a pedantic almanac, but an authentic miracle.” Cugel whisked away the cloth. “Behold!”

  The Duke made a puzzled sound. “A pile of dirt? A stump? What is that odd-looking member emerging from the hole?”

  “Your Grace, I have here an opening into an unknown space, with the arm of one of its denizens. Inspect this tentacle! It pulses with the life of another cosmos! Notice the golden luster of the dorsal surface, the green and lavender of these encrustations. On the underside you will discover three colors of a sort never before seen!”

  With a nonplussed expression Duke Orbal pulled at his chin. “This is all very well, but where is the rest of the creature? You present not a marvel, but the fraction of a marvel! I can make no judgment on the basis of a tail, or a hindquarters, or a proboscis, whatever the member may be. Additionally, you claim that the hole enters a far cosmos; still I see only a hole, resembling nothing so much as the den of a wysen-imp.”

  Iolo thrust himself forward. “May I venture an opinion? As I reflect upon events, I have become convinced that Cugel himself stole my Dreams!”

  “Your remarks interest no one,” said Cugel. “Kindly hold your tongue while I continue my demonstration.”

  Iolo was not to be subdued so easily. He turned to Duke Orbal and cried in a poignant voice: “Hear me out, if you will! I am convinced that the ‘robber’ is no more than a figment of Cugel’s imagination! He took my dreams and hid them, and where else but in the hole itself? For evidence I cite that length of string which leads into the hole.”

  Duke Orbal inspected Cugel with a frown. “Are these charges true? Answer exactly, since all can be verified.”

  Cugel chose his words with care. “I can only affirm what I myself know. Conceivably the robber hid Iolo’s dreams in the hole while I was otherwise occupied. For what purpose? Who can say?”

  Duke Orbal asked in a gentle voice: “Has anyone thought to search the hole for this elusive ‘bag of dreams’?”

  Cugel gave an indifferent shrug. “Iolo may enter now and search to his heart’s content.”

  “You claim this hole!” retorted Iolo. “It therefore becomes your duty to protect the public!”

  For several minutes an animated argument took place, until Duke Orbal intervened. “Both parties have raised persuasive points; I feel, however, that I must rule against Cugel. I therefore decree that he search his premises for the missing dreams and recover them if possible.”

  Cugel disputed the decision with such vigor that Duke Orbal turned to glance along the skyline, whereupon Cugel moderated his position. “The judgment of your Grace of course must prevail, and if I must, I will cast about for Iolo’s lost dreams, although his theories are clearly absurd.”

  “Please do so, at once.”

  Cugel obtained a long pole, to which he attached a grapple. Gingerly thrusting his contrivance into the hole, he raked back and forth, but succeeded only in stimulating the tentacle, which thrashed from side to side.

  Iolo suddenly cried out in excitement. “I notice a remarkable fact! The block of earth is at most six feet in breadth, yet Cugel plunged into the hole a pole twelve feet in length! What trickery does he practice now?”

  Cugel replied in even tones: “I promised Duke Orbal a marvel and a wonderment, and I believe that I have done so.”

  Duke Orbal nodded gravely. “Well said, Cugel! Your exhibit is provocative! Still, you offer us only a tantalizing glimpse: a bottomless hole, a length of tentacle, a strange color, a far-off light — to the effect that your exhibit seems somewhat makeshift and impromptu. Contrast, if you will, the precision of Zaraflam’s cockroaches!” He held up his hand as Cugel started to protest. “You display a hole: admitted, and a fine hole it is. But how does this hole differ from any other? Can I in justice award the prize on such a basis?”

  “The matter may be resolved in a manner to satisfy us all,” said Cugel. “Let Iolo enter the hole, to assure himself that his dreams are indeed elsewhere. Then, on his return, he will bear witness to the truly marvelous nature of my exhibit.”

  Iolo made an instant protest. “Cugel claims the exhibit; let him make the exploration!”

  Duke Orbal raised his hand for silence. “I pronounce a decree to the effect that Cugel must immediately enter his exhibit in search of Iolo’s properties, and likewise make a careful study of the environment, for the benefit of us all.”

  “Your Grace!” protested Cugel. “This is no simple matter! The tentacle almost fills the hole!”

  “I see sufficient room for an agile man to slide past.”

  “Your Grace, to be candid, I do not care to enter the hole, by reason of extreme fear.”

  Duke Orbal again glanced up at the tubes which stood in a row along the skyline. He spoke over his shoulder to a burly man in a maroon and black uniform. “Which of the tubes is most suitable for use at this time?”

  “The second tube from the right, your Grace, is only one-quarter occupied.”

  Cugel declared in a trembling voice: “I fear, but I have conquered my fear! I will seek Iolo’s lost dreams!”

  “Excellent,” said Duke Orbal with a tight-lipped grin. “Please do not delay; my patience wears thin.”

  Cugel tentatively thrust a leg into the hole, but the motion of the tentacle caused him to snatch it out again. Duke Orbal muttered a few words to his constable, who brought up a winch. The tentacle was hauled forth from the hole a good five yards.

  Duke Orbal instructed Cugel: “Straddle the tentacle, seize it with hands and legs and it will draw you back through the hole.”

  In desperation Cugel clambered upon the tentacle. The tension of the winch was relaxed and Cugel was pulled into the hole.

  The light of Earth curled away from the opening and made no entrance; Cugel was plunged into a condition of near-total darkness, where, however, by some paradoxical condition he was able to sense the scope of his new environment in detail.

  He stood on a surface at once flat, yet rough, with rises and dips and hummocks like the face of a windy sea. The black spongy stuff underfoot showed small cavities and tunnels in which Cugel sensed the motion of innumerable near-invisible points of light. Where the sponge rose high, the crest curled over like breaking surf, or stood ragged and crusty; in either case, the fringes glowed red, pale blue and several colors Cugel had never before observed. No horizon could be detected and the local concepts of distance, proportion, and size were not germane to Cugel’s understanding.

  Overhead hung dead Nothingness. The single feature of note, a large disk the color of rain, floated at the zenith, an object so dim as to be almost invisible. At an indeterminate distance — a mile? ten miles? a hundred yards? — a hummock of some bulk overlooked the entire panorama. On closer inspection Cugel saw this hummock to be a prodigious mound of gelatinous flesh, inside which floated a globular organ apparently analogous to an eye. From the base of this creature a hundred tentacles extended far and wide across the black sponge. One of these tentacles passed near Cugel’s feet, through the intracosmic gap, and out upon the soil of Earth.

  Cugel discovered Iolo’s sack of dreams, not three feet distant. The black sponge, bruised by the impact, had welled a liquid which had dissolved a hole in the leather, allowing the star-shaped dreams to spill out upon the sponge. In groping with the pole, Cugel had damaged a growth of brown palps. The resulting exudation had dripped upon the dreams and when Cugel picked up one of the fragile flakes, he saw that its edges glowed with eery fringes of color. The combination of oozes which had permeated the object caused his fingers to itch and tingle.

  A score of small luminous nodes swarmed around his head, and a soft voice addressed him by name. “Cugel, what a pleasure that you have come to visit us! What is your opinion of our pleasant land?”

  Cugel looked about in wonder; how could a denizen of this place know his name? At a distance
of ten yards he noticed a small hummock of plasm not unlike the monstrous bulk with the floating eye.

  Luminous nodes circled his head and the voice sounded in his ears: “You are perplexed, but remember, here we do things differently. We transfer our thoughts in small modules; if you look closely you will see them speeding through the fluxion: dainty little animalcules eager to unload their weight of enlightenment. There! Notice! Directly before your eyes hovers an excellent example. It is a thought of your own regarding which you are dubious; hence it hesitates, and awaits your decision.”

  “What if I speak?” asked Cugel. “Will this not facilitate matters?”

  “To the contrary! Sound is considered offensive and everyone deplores the slightest murmur.”

  “This is all very well,” grumbled Cugel, “but —”

  “Silence, please! Send forth animalcules only!”

  Cugel dispatched a whole host of luminous purports: “I will do my best. Perhaps you can inform me how far this land extends?”

  “Not with certainty. At times I send forth animalcules to explore the far places; they report an infinite landscape similar to that which you see.”

  “Duke Orbal of Ombalique has commanded me to gather information and he will be interested in your remarks. Are valuable substances to be found here?”

  “To a certain extent. There is proscedel and diphany and an occasional coruscation of zamanders.”

  “My first concern, of course, is to collect information for Duke Orbal, and I must also rescue Iolo’s dreams; still I would be pleased to acquire a valuable trinket or two, if only to remind myself of our pleasant association.”

  “Understandable! I sympathize with your objectives.”

  “In that case, how may I obtain a quantity of such substances?”

  “Easily. Simply send off animalcules to gather up your requirements.” The creature emitted a whole host of pale plasms which darted away in all directions and presently returned with several dozen small spheres sparkling with a frosty blue light. “Here are zamanders of the first water,” said the creature. “Accept them with my compliments.”

  Cugel placed the gems in his pouch. “This is a most convenient system for gaining wealth. I also wish to obtain a certain amount of diphany.”

  “Send forth animalcules! Why exert yourself needlessly?”

  “We think along similar lines.” Cugel dispatched several hundred animalcules which presently returned with twenty small ingots of the precious metal.

  Cugel examined his pouch. “I still have room for a quantity of proscedel. With your permission I will send out the requisite animalcules.”

  “I would not dream of interfering,” asserted the creature.

  The animalcules sped forth, and before long returned with sufficient proscedel to fill Cugel’s pouch. The creature said thoughtfully: “This is at least half of Uthaw’s treasure; however, he appears not to have noticed its absence.”

  “‘Uthaw’?” inquired Cugel. “Do you refer to yonder monstrous hulk?”

  “Yes, that is Uthaw, who sometimes is both coarse and irascible.”

  Uthaw’s eye rolled toward Cugel and bulged through the outer membrane. A tide of animalcules arrived pulsing with significance. “I notice that Cugel has stolen my treasure, which I denounce as a breach of hospitality! In retribution, he must dig twenty-two zamanders from below the Shivering Trillows. He must then sift eight pounds of prime proscedel from the Dust of Time. Finally he must scrape eight acres of diphany bloom from the face of the High Disk.”

  Cugel sent forth animalcules. “Lord Uthaw, the penalty is harsh but just. A moment while I go to fetch the necessary tools!” He gathered up the dreams and sprang to the aperture. Seizing the tentacle he cried through the hole: “Pull the tentacle, work the winch! I have rescued the dreams!”

  The tentacle convulsed and thrashed, effectively blocking the opening. Cugel turned and putting his fingers to his mouth emitted a piercing whistle. Uthaw’s eye rolled upward and the tentacle fell limp.

  The winch heaved at the tentacle and Cugel was drawn back through the hole. Uthaw, recovering his senses, jerked his tentacle so violently that the rope snapped; the winch was sent flying; and several persons were swept from their feet. Uthaw jerked back his tentacle and the hole immediately closed.

  Cugel cast the sack of dream-flakes contemptuously at the feet of Iolo. “There you are, ingrate! Take your vapid hallucinations and go your way! Let us hear no more of you!”

  Cugel turned to Duke Orbal. “I am now able to render a report upon the other cosmos. The ground is composed of a black spongelike substance and flickers with a trillion infinitesimal glimmers. My research discovered no limits to the extent of the land. A pale disk, barely visible, covers a quarter of the sky. The denizens are, first and foremost, an ill-natured hulk named Uthaw, and others more or less similar. No sound is allowed and meaning is conveyed by animalcules, which also procure the necessities of life. In essence, these are my discoveries, and now, with utmost respect, I claim the grand prize of one thousand terces.”

  From behind his back Cugel heard Iolo’s mocking laughter. Duke Orbal shook his head. “My dear Cugel, what you suggest is impossible. To what exhibit do you refer? The boxful of dirt yonder? It lacks all pretensions to singularity.”

  “But you saw the hole! With your winch you pulled the tentacle! In accordance with your orders, I entered the hole and explored the region!”

  “True enough, but hole and tentacle are both vanished. I do not for a moment suggest mendacity, but your report is not easily verified. I can hardly award honors to an entity so fugitive as the memory of a non-existent hole! I fear that on this occasion I must pass you by. The prize will be awarded to Zaraflam and his remarkable cockroaches.”

  “A moment, your Grace!” Iolo called out. “Remember, I am entered in the competition! At last I am able to display my products! Here is a particularly choice item, distilled from a hundred dreams captured early in the morning from a bevy of beautiful maidens asleep in a bower of fragrant vines.”

  “Very well,” said Duke Orbal. “I will delay the award until I test the quality of your visions. What is the procedure? Must I compose myself for slumber?”

  “Not at all! The ingestion of the dream during waking hours produces not a hallucination, but a mood: a sensibility fresh, new and sweet: an allurement of the faculties, an indescribable exhilaration. Still, why should you not be comfortable as you test my dreams? You there! Fetch a couch! And you, a cushion for his Grace’s noble head. You! Be good enough to take his Grace’s hat.”

  Cugel saw no profit in remaining. He moved to the outskirts of the throng.

  Iolo brought forth his dream and for a moment seemed puzzled by the ooze still adhering to the object, then decided to ignore the matter, and paid no further heed, except to rub his fingers as if after contact with some viscid substance.

  Making a series of grand gestures, Iolo approached the great chair where Duke Orbal sat at his ease. “I will arrange the dream for its most convenient ingestion,” said Iolo. “I place a quantity into each ear; I insert a trifle up each nostril; I arrange the balance under your Grace’s illustrious tongue. Now, if your Grace will relax, in half a minute the quintessence of a hundred exquisite dreams will be made known.”

  Duke Orbal became rigid. His fingers clenched the arms of the chair. His back arched and his eyes bulged from their sockets. He turned over backward, then rolled, jerked, jumped and bounded about the plaza before the amazed eyes of his subjects.

  Iolo called out in a brassy voice: “Where is Cugel? Fetch that scoundrel Cugel!”

  But Cugel had already departed Cuirnif and was nowhere to be found.

  Chapter VI

  Cuirnif to Pergolo

  1

  The Four Wizards

  Cugel’s visit to Cuirnif was marred by several disagreeable incidents, and he left town with more haste than dignity. At last he pushed through an alder thicket, jumped a ditch and scrambled up on t
he Old Ferghaz High-road. Pausing to look and listen, and discovering that pursuit apparently had been abandoned, he set off at best speed to the west.

  The road lay across a wide blue moor patched here and there with small forests. The region was eerily silent; scanning the moor, Cugel found only distance, a wide sky and solitude, with no sign of hut or house.

  From the direction of Cuirnif came a trap drawn by a one-horned wheriot. The driver was Bazzard, who, like Cugel, had exhibited at the Exposition of Marvels. Bazzard’s entry, like Cugel’s ‘Nowhere’, had been disqualified for technical reasons.

  Bazzard halted the trap. “So, Cugel, I see that you decided to leave your exhibit at Cuirnif.”

  “I had no real choice,” said Cugel. “With the hole gone, ‘Nowhere’ became a massive boxful of dirt, which I was happy to leave in the custody of Duke Orbal.”

  “I did the same with my dead fish,” said Bazzard. He looked around the moor. “This is a sinister district, with robber asms watching from every forest. Where are you bound?”

  “Ultimately, to Azenomei in Almery. As of now, I would be happy to find shelter for the night.”

  “In that case, why not ride with me? I will be grateful for your company. Tonight we will stop at the Iron Man Inn, and tomorrow should bring us to Llaio where I live with my four fathers.”

  “Your offer is welcome,” said Cugel. He climbed to the seat; Bazzard touched up the wheriot and the trap moved along the road at good speed.

  After a period Bazzard said: “If I am not mistaken, Iucounu the Laughing Magician, as he is known, makes his resort at Pergolo, which is near Azenomei. Perhaps you and he are acquainted?”

  “We are indeed,” said Cugel. “He has enjoyed several choice jokes at my expense.”