The Green Pearl Page 44

  Yossip angrily brought down the box and held it so that Melancthe was afforded barely a glimpse at the pearl. In a surly voice Yossip told her: "This gem is worth ten times the gold you paid me; I cannot let it go on the cheap!"

  Melancthe leaned and craned her neck that she might see more readily into the box. "It is extraordinary!" she breathed, her flowers now forgotten. She reached to take up the gem, but Yossip jerked back the box.

  "Come now!" demanded Melancthe. "Is this proper conduct for a huckster? To proffer, to allow a glimpse, then to snatch away the merchandise as if the customer were a robber? Where is your master, Zuck? He will not be pleased with such conduct!"

  Yossip winced and grimaced in confusion. "Never mind about Zuck; he has given me full discretion."

  "Then show me the pearl, or I will call for the steward and these two gentlemen shall be my witnesses!"

  "Bah!" grumbled Yossip. "Such intimidation is only a step removed from robbery itself. Can you blame me for not trusting you with the gem?"

  "Either the gem or my gold coins!"

  "The gem is worth far more! First let us agree to that!"

  "Perhaps a trifle more."

  Reluctantly Yossip allowed Melancthe the box. She stared down entranced. "The colour envelops me with its fervor! How much more do you ask?"

  Yossip had still not recovered his equanimity. "Truth to tell, I have not yet determined its value. This jewel might readily grace the King of Araby's crown!"

  Melancthe turned to Shimrod, with arch mischief in her face. "Shimrod, what is your opinion of the jewel?"

  "It is handsome, if somewhat baleful," said Shimrod. "Somewhere I have heard rumors of a similar jewel, perhaps in a fabulous legend; I cannot remember the occasion. I recall nothing good to be said for the pearl. It was worn by a Bloodthirsty pirate."

  "Shimrod! Dear cautious, good, mild-mannered Shimrod! Does the legend so perturb you, when you have hardly glanced at the pearl itself?" She extended him the box. "At least give me your estimate of its value."

  "I am hardly an expert!"

  "In such matters everyone is an expert, since he knows what he would pay for it."

  "I would give nothing."

  "For once behave like an ordinary man! Take it up and feel its heft! Study the surface for flaws; gauge the subtlety of its sea-green fire."

  Shimrod took the box and looked down sidelong. "It shows no obvious flaws. The colour has an envious malignant overtone."

  Melancthe was still dissatisfied. "Why are you so diffident? Look at it from all sides! I want only your best and truest judgment."

  Shimrod reluctantly reached to take the pearl, but his elbow was seized by the florid young peasant with yellow hair. "Shimrod, a word with you aside about this pearl."

  Shimrod placed the box back on the counter; the two went a little apart and the young peasant spoke in an edged voice: "Did I not warn you against Melancthe's behests? Do not touch the pearl! It is a node of pure depravity, nothing more."

  "Of course! Now I remember! Tristano told us a tale of such a pearl! But Melancthe can know nothing of this!"

  "Perhaps a voice talks into her inner ear... . Tamurello is coming into the meadow; I do not want to be recognized. Tax him strongly for news of Visbhume! Under no circumstances touch the pearl!" The peasant mingled with the crowd.

  Subdued and crestfallen, Shimrod went back to Melancthe. He muttered into her ear: "The fellow has some knowledge of pearls and tells me that this object is not a true pearl, since true pearls are never green. I now remember the rumor. Do not touch this false pearl as you value your soul; it is worse than worthless; it is a whorl of depravity."

  Melancthe cried out in a low voice: "I have never been so affected before! It seems to sing to me, in a haunting music!"

  "Still, if you have never believed me before, believe me now! Despite all your treacheries, I would not have you come to harm."

  From his post behind the booth Yossip stated grandly: "I have calculated the worth of this glorious jewel: one hundred gold crowns exactly!"

  Shimrod spoke harshly: "The Lady Melancthe does not want the thing at any price. Return her coins at once."

  Melancthe stood limp and silent with mouth drooping; when Yossip, glaring sidelong at Shimrod, paid out the five gold coins, she dropped them into her wallet without giving them a glance.

  Tamurello, in the same guise as of the night before, halted and gave Shimrod a polite salute. "I am surprised to find you so far from Trilda! Have you lost all interest in my affairs?"

  "Other matters occasionally intrude upon my attention," said Shimrod. "At the moment I want a few words with Visbhume. You saw him last night; where is he now?"

  Tamurello smilingly shook his head. "He went his way, I went mine; I know nothing of his present locality."

  "Why not alter the habits of a lifetime and speak with candor?" asked Shimrod. "Truth, after all, need not be only the tactic of last resort."

  "Ah, Shimrod! I am concerned by your negative opinion! In regard to Visbhume, I have nothing to hide. I spoke to him last night, then we parted company. I can offer no insights as to his plans."

  "What did he tell you?"

  "Hm hah! I fear that we verge close upon the question of confidentiality! Still, I will tell what I know. He reported that he had only just arrived from Tanjecterly, which is one of Twitten's ‘Dekadiade', as perhaps you know."

  "Something to this effect has reached me. Did he mention the Princess Glyneth? What were his reports of her?"

  "In this regard he was somewhat evasive, and I infer that she came to an unhappy end. Tanjecterly is a cruel domain."

  "He was not specific in this regard?"

  "Not altogether. In fact, his intent was to tell me as little as possible."

  "While in your presence did he discard all his clothing, for reasons totally beyond my conjecture?"

  "What a startling idea!" declared Tamurello, in mild reproach. "The images which you place before my mind's eye are deplorable!"

  "Most odd! Last night I came upon his garments in a heap at the side of the road."

  Tamurello gave his head a bland shake, "Often, in cases of this sort, the simple explanation is ignored or overlooked. Perhaps he merely exchanged his soiled and travel-worn garments for others more presentable."

  "Would he discard his valuable copy of Twitten's Almanac along with the soiled clothes?"

  Tamurello, caught offguard, arched his sardonic eyebrows high and stroked his neat black beard. "One can only suspect him of absentmindedness, or vagary. But of course I cannot presume knowledge of Visbhume's quirks. Now, please excuse me."

  Tamurello turned to Melancthe. "And what have you found of interest?"

  "Here is where I found my flowers, but now the plants are dead, and I will never know their charm again."

  "A pity." Glancing into the booth, Tamurello caught sight of the green pearl. He became instantly rigid, then advanced step by slow step, to bend his head down over the box.

  "It is a green glory, a nonpareil!" declared Yossip in excitement. "The price? A trifling hundred gold coins!"

  Tamurello paid no heed. He reached out his hand; his fingers fluttered down upon the pearl. From the shadows at the end of the counter a green and black snake lunged forth. It seized the pearl in its mouth and gulped it down in a trice, then slid back across the counter, down to the ground and away into the forest.

  Tamurello gave a choked cry and ran around the booth, in time to see the snake slide into a hole between the roots of a gnarled old oak.

  Tamurello clenched his hands, cried out a spell of six syllables and transformed himself into a long gray weasel which darted into the hole after the snake.

  From below ground came faint squeaks and hisses: then silence.

  A minute passed. Up from the hole came the weasel carrying the green pearl in its mouth. For an instant it glared red-eyed across the meadow, then jerked into motion and started to bound away.

  A florid young peasant
with flaxen hair moved even more quickly. He clapped a glass jar over the weasel and fixed tight the lid, compressing the weasel down upon its haunches, where it sat, the green pearl firmly in its mouth, the long nose pushed down on its belly, and its hind legs thrust up past its ears.

  The peasant put the jar on the counter of Yossip's booth, and as the group watched, the weasel dissolved into a green transparency, like a skeleton in aspic, with the pearl glowing green at its center.

  III

  THE GRAY CRUMBLE OF THE ASPHRODISKE SKYUNE became lost in the haze astern, as the wole ran to the west: away from the black moon, back across the Plain of Lilies. Overhead the yellow sun and the green sun circled each other with a languid incessant inevitability, which Glyneth thought might ultimately disturb a person of erratic disposition, and which, if the truth be known, she herself found unpleasant, now that she had time to brood.

  With Visbhume's departure, the tension along taut nerves had suddenly loosened, and the stimulation of Visbhume's mercurial, if odd, personality was gone, leaving a flat tired aftermath.

  At the first halt Glyneth insisted that Kul rest and renew his strength. Kul, however, quickly became moody, and refused to lie quiet in the manner which Glyneth considered proper. "I feel trapped in this little house!" he growled. "When I lie still, staring up at the thatch, I feel like a corpse with his eyes open. I hear voices shouting as if from far distances; as I lie idle the voices come wild and angry, and grow louder!"

  "Still, you must recuperate," Glyneth declared. "Therefore, rest is needful; nothing else will serve, since I dare not use Visbhume's tonics on you at random."

  "I want none of Visbhume's stuffs," muttered Kul. "I feel better when we travel west; that is the command given into my mind, and I feel easy only when I obey."

  "Very well then," said Glyneth. "We shall travel, but you must sit quietly and let me nurse you. I do not know what I would do if you sickened and died."

  "Yes, that would be most tragic," Kul agreed. He sat up from the couch. "Let us be on our way. I feel better already!" Once again the wole ran westward. Kul's spirits improved and he began to show traces of his old vitality.

  The Plain of Lilies fell behind, and the Dark Woods, and presently the town Pude appeared in the distance. Kul took up Zaxa's two-handed sword Zil and went to stand in front of the pergola, legs apart and the point of the sword between his feet. On the high bench Glyneth arranged the blow-tube and the fire-mites, and made sure that the Tormentor bulbs were ready to hand.

  Entering Pude, the wole cantered down the center of the main street, while folk peered down through the windows of their tall crabbed houses. No one came out to challenge their passage, and they crossed the bridge without a thought for the payment of toll.

  With the River Haroo safely to the rear, Glyneth gave a nervous laugh. "We are not popular in Pude. The children did not bring us flowers and there was no trace of a celebration. Even the dogs refused to bark and the mayor hid under his bed."

  Kul looked back with a grim smile. "To my great relief, since I too would like to hide and skulk. If the children struck me with a single flower petal I would fall flat; I lean on this sword to hold myself erect; I doubt if I could lift it to strike a blow if Visbhume's neck itself were the target."

  "Why stand there then? Sit down and rest! Think strong and hopeful thoughts and soon you will be as healthy as ever!" Kul limped back to the low bench. "We shall see."

  Ahead lay the trackless Tang-Tang Steppe, and Glyneth began to fear that they might deviate from their course and so lose their way. The only dependable landmark was the pink star in the east, but to keep this star directly astern was a difficult task, and the two continually searched for landmarks along the way. They passed through the region of vast trees; as before the half-human tree-dwellers issued hysterical threats and made offensive signs. Kul steered the wole so as to veer around the trees and took refuge in the pergola. "I wish to provoke no one, not even these miserable creatures."

  "Poor Kul!" said Glyneth. "But do not fret; soon you will grow strong again, and you will no longer take such frights. Meanwhile you may rely on me, since I have Visbhume's wallet ready to hand."

  Kul made a growling noise in his throat. "It has not quite come to that yet. Though, for a fact, I am of little value."

  Glyneth indignantly contradicted him. "Of course you are of value, especially to me! We shall go slowly and give you time to rest."

  "Not so! Have you watched the black moon? It is moving around the sky! When we get to the hut, my work is done, and then I can rest."

  Glyneth sighed. Such talk oppressed her. If she survived, she would never forget these strange journeys across the world Tanjecterly, and perhaps the dreadful events would lose their force, while Kul's companionship, the rests at the pleasant little cottage and the wonderful landscapes of Tanjecterly would assert their charm, to which for the time being she was numb... . Could it be possible that she would leave Tanjecterly with regret? Assuming, of course, that she were to leave... . Glyneth sighed again and gave her attention to the countryside.

  Travel, then rest, and travel again, and each cycle brought new events. On one occasion the wole barely evaded a stampede of eight-legged ruminants, the size of large boars, dappled red and white with long tusks and tails ending in spiked knobs. Squealing, screaming, emitting a vile odor, the column of beasts a quarter-mile wide rushed past, from north to south, and finally disappeared.

  Another time they passed by an encampment of swarthy human nomads, dressed in gaudy garments of black, yellow and red. Instantly scores of children ran out to beg, and the sight of Kul deterred them not at all. Glyneth had nothing to give them and they tore tassels from the wole's rug until Glyneth caused the wole to accelerate its pace and leave the encampment behind.

  At this point Glyneth began to suspect that they had strayed from the most direct route across the steppe, and her suspicions were confirmed by the sight of two knolls, each crowned by a fortified castle, and, beyond, a crag of rock surmounted by a castle, even larger and more dire. As the wole ran past, a pair of enormous knights, each taller and more massive than Kul, rode down from the first two castles. One knight wore splendid purple armour with a crest of green plumes, while the other wore blue armour and orange plumes. They halted their steeds in front of the wole, and held up their arms in apparently amicable salute.

  The purple knight asked: "Good gentlefolk, we extend our greetings and ask as to how and in what style you name yourselves?"

  Glyneth responded from the top seat of the pergola. "I am, the Princess Glyneth of Troicinet, and this is my paladin Sir Kul."

  The blue knight said: "The place ‘Troicinet' is unknown to us. Sir Kul, if I may say so, somewhat resembles a syaspic feroce, though his face, manner, and nobility of bearing, suggest the status you have ascribed to him."

  "You show discernment," said Glyneth. "Sir Kul is under an enchantment and must use his present guise for a certain period."

  "Aha!" declared the purple knight. "You have explained much."

  The blue knight said: "We also note that Sir Kul stands with hands enclasping a great sword of uncommon fabric. It is much like the sword Zil, carried by the murderer Zaxa of Pude Town."

  "True. Zaxa at one time wielded this sword, but he gave offense, and Sir Kul took both his life and his sword. It was a tedious exercise since Zaxa roared a great deal during his dying."

  The two knights examined Kul askance. They conferred together, then the blue knight, moving to the side, blew a great blast on his horn.

  The purple knight meanwhile came to address Glyneth and Kul: "In view of your victory over Zaxa, we implore you to kill his father, Sir Lulie, as well. Lulie is stronger by far than Zaxa and we feel no shame in admitting our own fear of him. Lulie is guilty of a thousand horrid deeds, with never so much as a wince of remorse, much less an apology."

  Glyneth said hastily: "We deplore such misdeeds, but now we have no time to take action; in fact, we are already late for
very important business."

  "Is that truly the case?" asked the purple knight. "Then it seems that my brother was premature in sounding the challenge."

  "Absolutely! We are now departing and you must explain to Sir Lulie as best you can. Kul, stir the wole to his best speed."

  "Too late," called the purple knight. "I notice Sir Lulie riding down from his castle at this very moment."

  With a sinking heart Glyneth watched the approach of Sir Lulie. He sat in a massive throne-like chair on a wole, and carried a lance forty feet long. He wore half-armour: a cuirass, greaves and a casque in the mold of a demon's head, with a crest of three black plumes.

  Sir Lulie halted his steed at a distance of a hundred feet. He called out: "Who blew so brashly his horn, to disturb my rest? I am quite put out of sorts."

  The blue knight spoke: "The horn was blown to announce the presence of invincible Sir Kul, who has already killed your son Zaxa and now wants to see the colour of your liver."

  "That is a cruel ambition!" cried Lulie. "Sir Kul, why do you pursue such violent aims?"

  "It seems to be my destiny," muttered Kul. "In this case, however, you are a bereaved father and I relent. Go back to your castle with your grief, and we will proceed. Our best wishes to all; goodbye."

  The purple knight cried out: "Sir Kul, evidently you spoke in jest when you described Sir Lulie as ‘the dog of a dog' and ‘a coward whose deeds stink even worse than Sir Lulie himself!' "

  Sir Lulie said: "I am not a sensitive person, but these remarks carry a sting."

  Kul said: "Sir Lulie, your quarrel lies with yonder two knights, not me. Please excuse us from further conversation, as we are anxious to go our way."

  "Still, you have killed my son Zaxa, and you carry his sword. If nothing else, this deed calls for retribution."

  "I killed him when he attacked me. If you attack me, I will find some way to kill you."

  "Ha ha! I interpret that remark as a challenge."

  "It is not intended to be so. Please allow us to continue."

  "Not until all accounts are settled. Climb from your perch. We will fight afoot, and you shall swing Zaxa's sword against his father, if you dare."