Cugel

by Jack Vance

  “It has nothing to do with me! The deed occurred aboard your vessel the Avventura.”

  Cugel again thrust the bill upon Varmous. “Then at least you must serve this accounting upon Doctor Lalanke and levy the payment.”

  Varmous pulled at his chin. “That is not the correct procedure. You are master of the Avventura. Hence, in your official capacity, you must summon Doctor Lalanke to a hearing and there levy whatever charges you think proper.”

  Cugel looked dubiously toward Doctor Lalanke, where he stood in conversation with Clissum. “I suggest that we approach Doctor Lalanke together, and join our mutual authorities the better to compel justice.”

  Varmous backed away another step. “Do not involve me! I am only Varmous the wagoneer, who rolls innocently along the ground.”

  Cugel proposed further arguments, but Varmous put on a face of crafty obstinacy and would not be moved. Cugel finally went to a table where he drank wine and stared glumly into the fire.

  The evening passed slowly. A somber mood oppressed the entire camp; tonight there were neither recitations, songs nor jokes, and the company sat around the fire, conversing in desultory undertones. An unspoken question occupied all minds: “Who will be the next to disappear?”

  The fire burned low, and the company reluctantly went off to their beds, with many a glance over their shoulders and an exchange of nervous comments.

  So the night passed. The star Achernar moved up the eastern quadrant and declined into the west. The farlocks grunted and snuffled as they slept. Far out on the waste a blue light flickered into existence for a few seconds, then died and was seen no more. The rim of the east flushed first purple, then the red of dark blood. After several vain attempts, the sun broke free of the horizon and floated into the sky.

  With the rebuilding of the fire the caravan came to life. Breakfast was set out; farlocks were brought to their traces and preparations were made for departure.

  Aboard the Avventura the passengers made their appearance. Each in turn looked from face to face as if half-expecting another disappearance. Porraig the steward served breakfast to all hands, and carried a tray to the aft cabin. He knocked. “Madame Nissifer, I have brought your breakfast. We are worried as to your health.”

  “I am well,” came the whisper. “I wish nothing. You may go away.”

  After breakfast Cugel took Doctor Lalanke aside. “I have taken counsel with Varmous,” said Cugel. “He assures me that, as master of the Avventura, I may make a demand on you for damages suffered as a result of your negligence. Here is the bill of account. You must pay over this sum at once.”

  Doctor Lalanke gave the bill a brief inspection. His black eyebrows peaked even higher than ever. “This item: amazing! ‘Boot dressing, one pot. Value: one thousand terces.’ Are you serious?”

  “Naturally! The boot dressing contained a rare wax.”

  Doctor Lalanke returned the bill. “You must present this bill to the persons at fault: namely, Sush, Skasja and Rlys.”

  “What good will that do?”

  Doctor Lalanke shrugged. “I could not hazard a guess. Still, I disassociate myself from the entire affair.” He bowed and strolled off to join Clissum, in whom he found qualities compatible with his own.

  Cugel went forward to the bow, where Shilko was already on duty. Shilko again showed a voluble tendency. Cugel, as before, replied in terse terms, and Shilko at last fell silent. The caravan meanwhile had moved into a region where hills rose to either side, with the road following the course of the valley between.

  Shilko looked along the barren hillsides. “I see nothing in these parts to worry us. What of you, Cugel?”

  “At the moment, I see nothing.”

  Shilko took a last look around the landscape. “Excuse me a moment; I have a message for Porraig.” He departed and soon, from the galley, Cugel heard sounds of conviviality.

  Somewhat later, Shilko returned, lurching to the wine he had consumed. He called out in a hearty voice: “Ahoy there, Captain Cugel! How go the hallucinations?”

  “I do not understand your allusion,” said Cugel frigidly.

  “No matter! Such things can happen to anyone.” Shilko scanned the hillsides. “Have you anything to report?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Very good! That’s the way to handle this job! A quick look here and a sharp glance there, then down to the galley for a taste of wine.”

  Cugel made no comment and Shilko, from boredom, took to cracking his knuckles.

  At the noon meal Shilko again consumed more than was perhaps advisable, and during the afternoon became drowsy. “I will just catch forty winks to calm my nerves,” he told Cugel. “Keep a close watch on the lizards and call me if anything more important appears.” He crawled into Cugel’s tent and presently began to snore.

  Cugel leaned on the gunwale, formulating schemes to repair his fortunes. None seemed feasible, especially since Doctor Lalanke knew a few spells of elementary magic … Peculiar, those dark shapes along the ridge! What could cause them to jerk and jump in such a fashion? As if tall black shadows were thrusting quickly high to peer down at the caravan, then dodging back down out of sight.

  Cugel reached down and pulled at Shilko’s leg. “Rouse yourself!”

  Shilko emerged from the tent blinking and scratching his head. “What now? Has Porraig brought my afternoon wine?”

  Cugel indicated the ridge. “What do you see?”

  Shilko looked with red-rimmed eyes along the sky-line, but the shadows were now crouched behind the hills. He turned a quizzical gaze upon Cugel. “What do you perceive? Goblins disguised as pink rats? Or centipedes dancing the kazatska?”

  “Neither,” said Cugel shortly. “I saw what I believe to be a band of wind-stick devils. They are now in hiding on the far side of the hill.”

  Shilko peered cautiously at Cugel and moved a step away. “Most interesting! How many did you see?”

  “I could make no count, but we had best call out the alarm to Varmous.”

  Shilko looked again along the sky-line. “I see nothing. Might your nerves once more be playing you tricks?”

  “Absolutely not!”

  “Well, please make certain before you call me again.” Shilko dropped to his hands and knees and crawled into the tent. Cugel looked down to Varmous, riding placidly on the lead carriage. He opened his mouth to call down the alarm, then gloomily thought better of it and resumed his vigil.

  Minutes passed, and Cugel himself began to doubt the sightings.

  The road passed beside a long narrow pond of alkali-green water which nourished several thickets of bristling salt-bush. Cugel leaned forward and focused his gaze upon the bushes, but their spindly stalks provided no cover. What of the lake itself? It seemed too shallow to hide any consequential danger.

  Cugel straightened himself with a sense of work well done. He glanced up to the ridge, to discover that the wind-stick devils had reappeared in greater number than before, craning high to peer down at the caravan, then ducking quickly from view.

  Cugel pulled at Shilko’s leg. “The wind-stick devils have returned in force!”

  Shilko backed from the tent and heaved himself erect. “What is it this time?”

  Cugel indicated the ridge. “Look for yourself!”

  The wind-stick devils, however, had completed their survey, and Shilko saw nothing. This time he merely shrugged wearily and prepared to resume his rest. Cugel however went to the gunwale and shouted down to Varmous: “Wind-stick devils, by the dozen! They gather on the other side of the ridge!”

  Varmous halted his carriage. “Wind-stick devils? Where is Shilko?”

  “I am here, naturally, keeping a keen look-out.”

  “What of these ‘wind-stick devils’? Have you noticed them?”

  “In all candour, and with due respect to Cugel, I must say that I have not seen them.”

  Varmous chose his words carefully. “Cugel, I am obliged to you for your alert warning, but this time I think t
hat we will go forward. Shilko, continue the good work!”

  The caravan proceeded along the road. Shilko yawned and prepared to resume his rest. “Wait!” cried Cugel in frustration. “Notice that gap in the hills yonder? If the devils choose to follow us, they must jump across the gap, and you will be sure to see them.”

  Shilko grudgingly resigned himself to the wait. “These fancies, Cugel, are a most unhealthy sign. Consider to what sorry extremes they may lead! For your own sake you must curb the affliction … Now: there is the gap! We are coming abreast. Look with great attention and tell me when you see devils jumping across.”

  The caravan drew abreast of the gap. In a flurry of great smoky shapes, the wind-stick devils leapt over the hill and down upon the caravan.

  “Now!” said Cugel.

  For a frozen instant Shilko stood with a trembling jaw, then he bawled down to Varmous: “Beware! Wind-stick devils are on the attack!”

  Varmous failed to hear properly and looked up toward the boat. He discovered a blur of hurtling dark shapes, but now defense was impossible. The devils tramped back and forth among the wagons while teamsters and passengers fled into the chilly waters of the pond.

  The devils wreaked all convenient damage upon the caravan, overturning wagons and carriages, kicking off wheels, scattering stores and baggage. Next, they turned their attention to the Avventura, but Cugel caused the rope to lengthen and the vessel floated high. The devils jumped up and clawed at the hull, but fell short by fifty feet. Giving up the attack, they seized all the farlocks, tucking them one under each arm, then jumped over the hill and were gone.

  Cugel lowered the boat, while teamsters and passengers emerged from the pond. Varmous had been trapped under his overturned carriage and all hands were required to extricate him.

  With difficulty Varmous raised himself to stand upon his bruised legs. He surveyed the damage and gave a despondent groan. “This is beyond understanding! Why are we so cursed?” He looked around the bedraggled company. “Where are the look-outs? … Cugel? Shilko? Be good enough to stand forward!”

  Cugel and Shilko diffidently showed themselves. Shilko licked his lips and spoke earnestly: “I called out the alarm; all can testify to this! Otherwise the disaster might have been far worse!”

  “You were dilatory; the devils were already upon us! What is your explanation?”

  Shilko looked all around the sky. “It may sound strange but Cugel wanted to wait until the devils jumped across the gap.”

  Varmous turned to Cugel. “I am absolutely bewildered! Why would you not warn us of the danger?”

  “I did so, if you will recall! When I first saw the devils, I considered calling the alarm, but —”

  “This is most confusing,” said Varmous. “You saw the devils previous to the occasion of your warning?”

  “Certainly, but —”

  Varmous, grimacing in pain, held up his hand. “I have heard enough. Cugel, your conduct has been unwise, to say the very least.”

  “That is not a sound judgment!” cried Cugel hotly.

  Varmous made a weary gesture. “Is it not immaterial? The caravan is destroyed! We are left helpless out on the Ildish Waste! In another month the wind will blow sand over our bones.”

  Cugel looked down to his boots. They were scuffed and dull, but magic might still reside in them. He pitched his voice in tones of dignity. “The caravan can still proceed, through the courtesy of the excoriated and savagely denounced Cugel.”

  Varmous spoke sharply: “Please convey your exact meaning!”

  “It is possible that magic still remains in my boots. Make ready your wagons and carriages. I will raise them into the air and we will continue as before.”

  Varmous at once became energetic. He instructed his teamsters, who brought as much order as possible to their wagons and carriages. Ropes were tied to each and the passengers took their places. Cugel, walking from vehicle to vehicle, kicked to apply that levitational force still clinging to his boots. The wagons and carriages drifted into the air; the teamsters took the ropes and waited for the signal. Varmous, whose bruised muscles and sprained joints prevented him from walking, elected to ride aboard the Avventura. Cugel started to follow, but Varmous stopped him.

  “We need only a single look-out, a man of proved judgment, who will be Shilko. If I were not crippled, I would gladly tow the ship, but that duty must now devolve upon you. Take up the rope, Cugel, and lead the caravan along the road at your best speed.”

  Recognizing the futility of protest, Cugel seized the rope and marched off down the road, towing the Avventura behind him.

  At sunset, the wagons and carriages were brought down and camp was made for the night. Slavoy, the chief teamster, under the supervision of Varmous, set out the guard-fence; a fire was built and wine was served to defeat the gloom of the company.

  Varmous made a terse address. “We have suffered a serious set-back and much damage has been done. Still, it serves no purpose to point the finger of blame. I have made calculations and taken advice from Doctor Lalanke, and I believe that four days of travel will bring us to Kaspara Vitatus, where repairs can be made. Until then, I hope that no one suffers undue inconvenience. A final remark! The events of today are now in the past, but two mysteries still oppress us: the disappearances of Ivanello and Ermaulde. Until these matters are clarified, all must be careful! Wander nowhere alone! At any suspicious circumstance, be sure to notify me.”

  The evening meal was served and a mood of almost frenetic gaiety overcame the company. Sush, Skasja and Rlys performed a set of bounding, hopping exercises and presently it became clear that they were mimicking the wind-stick devils.

  Clissum became elevated by wine. “Is it not wonderful?” he cried out. “This excellent vintage has stimulated all three segments of my mind, so that while one observes this fire and the Ildish Waste beyond, another composes exquisitely beautiful odes, while the third weaves festoons of imaginary flowers to cover the nudity of passing nymphs, also imaginary!”

  The ecclesiarch Gaulph Rabi listened to Clissum with disapproval and put four drops of aspergantium, rather than the customary three, into his own wine. “Is it necessary to go to such inordinate extremes?”

  Clissum raised a wavering finger. “For the freshest flowers and the most supple nymphs, the answer is: emphatically yes!”

  Gaulph Rabi spoke severely: “At the Collegium we feel that contemplation of even a few infinities is stimulation enough, at least for persons of taste and culture.” He turned away to continue a conversation with Perruquil. Clissum mischievously sprinkled the back of Gaulph Rabi’s gown with a pervasively odorous sachet, which caused the austere ecclesiarch great perplexity to the end of the evening.

  With the dying of the embers, the mood of the company again became subdued, and only reluctantly did they go off to their beds.

  Aboard the Avventura Varmous and Shilko now occupied the berths which had been those of Ivanello and Ermaulde, while Cugel kept to his tent on the bow.

  The night was quiet. Cugel, for all his fatigue, was unable to sleep. Midnight was marked by a muffled chime of the ship’s clock.

  Cugel dozed. An unknown period of time went by.

  A small sound aroused Cugel to full alertness. For a moment he lay staring up into the dark; then, groping for his sword, he crawled to the opening of the tent.

  The mast-head light cast a pale illumination along the deck. Cugel saw nothing unusual. No sound could be heard. What had aroused him?

  For ten minutes Cugel crouched by the opening, then slowly returned to his cushion.

  Cugel lay awake … The faintest of sounds reached his ears: a click, a creak, a scrape … Cugel again crawled to the opening of his tent.

  The mast-head lamp cast as many shadows as puddles of light. One of the shadows moved and sidled out across the deck. It seemed to carry a parcel.

  Cugel watched with an eery prickling at the back of his neck. The shadow jerked to the rail and with a most peculiar m
otion tossed its burden over the side. Cugel groped back into his tent for his sword, then crawled out upon the fore-deck.

  He heard a scrape. The shadow had merged with other shadows, and could no longer be seen.

  Cugel crouched in the dark and presently thought to hear a faint squealing sound, abruptly stilled.

  The sound was not repeated.

  After a time Cugel hunched back into the tent, and there kept vigil, cramped and cold … With eyes open, he slept. A maroon beam from the rising sun glinted into his open eyes, startling him into full awareness.

  With groans for twinges and aches, Cugel hauled himself erect. He donned his cloak and hat, buckled the sword around his waist and limped down to the main deck.

  Varmous was only just emerging from his berth when Cugel peered in through the doorway. “What do you want?” growled Varmous. “Am I not even allowed time to adjust my garments?”

  Cugel said: “Last night I saw sights and I heard sounds. I fear that we may discover another disappearance.”

  Varmous uttered a groan and a curse. “Who?”

  “I do not know.”

  Varmous pulled on his boots. “What did you see and what did you hear?”

  “I saw a shadow. It threw a parcel into the thicket. I heard a clicking sound, and then the scrape of a door. Later I heard a cry.”

  Varmous donned his rough cape, then pulled the flat broad-brimmed hat down over his golden curls. He limped out on deck. “I suppose that first of all we should count noses.”

  “All in good time,” said Cugel. “First let us look into the parcel, which may tell us much or nothing.”

  “As you wish.” The two descended to the ground. “Now then: where is the thicket?”

  “Over here, behind the hull. If I had not been witness, we would never have known.”

  They circled the ship and Cugel clambered into the black fronds of the thicket. Almost at once he discovered the parcel and gingerly pulled it out into the open. The two stood looking down at the object, which was wrapped in soft blue fabric. Cugel touched it with his toe. “Do you recognize the stuff?”

  “Yes. It is the cloak favored by Perruquil.”