Before & Beyond

by Patrick Welch

  "How much?"

  "70 gold crowns."

  "But, but we have not that much wealth in our entire village!"

  I had heard false pleas of poverty before. "I cannot part with it for anything less. Of course, I can leave you to your own devices ..."

  "And if this fails?"

  "Fair enough. I will be out one very old and valuable chest."

  "We must discuss this." I remained silent and stoic while the village elders discussed my offer. The innkeeper was ashen when he returned. "We have no choice. If you succeed, 70 gold crowns it is."

  I nodded. "I need two of your strongest men to assist me." The innkeeper returned with two brawny young lads. Not nearly as brawny, however, as the fast approaching giant. "One of you on either side," I ordered. "I want you to pick up this chest and fling it down the hill as far as you can."

  They looked at each other, frowned, then did as instructed. I held my breath as the wooden chest arched out and down the hill, then crashed resoundingly and burst apart. Immediately a black buzzing cloud arose from the wreckage and started down the hill. Toward the man struggling upward.

  "Gnats," the innkeeper whispered as he stood next to me, watching.

  "Yes. And quite hungry and vicious." Which indeed they were. They descended eagerly upon the man, an army that was too vast and small for him to defeat. He struggled against them valiantly, but in the end he had no recourse but to release the rope while he attempted to drive them off. The boulder careened down the hill and he soon followed, trying to run and discourage the stinging insects at the same time. Part of the horde remained hovering along the hill while the remainder followed him to level ground. The giant would not succeed in climbing the hill this day.

  Imogen treated me to a well-deserved hero's welcome. The constable even allowed me to set up my wagon and offer my amazing array of merchandise to the townsfolk. By eventide my coffers were fully replenished.

  I was enjoying a glass of the innkeeper's finest wine when one of my earlier customers stormed into his establishment. "There you are!" He threw something on my table. "This chronometer does not work!"

  I glanced down at the offending mechanism. "That is odd. It functioned properly before. You saw so yourself. What did you do to it?"

  "Nothing! I demand repayment. At once!"

  "Sire, if there is a problem with my wares, I assure you I will rectify that. I should have another suitable timepiece in my wagon."

  "I don't want your 'wares.' I want my money!"

  My response was cut short by angry voices outside. The doors to the inn flew open and no less than a dozen townspeople, led by the constable, burst in. None of them wore pleasant demeanors. "He cheated me." "He's a thief." "He sells fraudulent merchandise." Those were just a few of the libelous accusations hurled at me.

  The constable approached menacingly. "You are no longer welcome in Imogen."

  I glanced at the half empty bottle of excellent vintage on my table and sighed. "I am sorry you feel that way," I said, rising. "However, I do not wish my customers be dissatisfied. If you will follow me to my wagon, I will repay each of you. Then," I addressed the constable, "I will be on my way."

  They cursed me as they followed me out the inn; they cursed me as I repaid them; they cursed me as I drove my team down the street. Imogen denizens were tireless cursers. I made my slow shameful journey out of town, down the lane and around the hill. I soon reached a clearing and found the giant staring forlornly into his fire. I drove up and stopped.

  "I see even a giant needs his rest," I greeted him. In the firelight I could see the ugly red welts that covered his body. The gnats had dined well.

  "I am lost," he groaned. "Those insects. I can fight a man. I can fight a dragon. I cannot fight them." His voice trailed off into self-pity.

  I joined him by his fire and commiserated. We had both been treated harshly by Imogen. Reparations were called for. "My friend, insects need sleep as well."

  "How does that information assist me?"

  "Could you not conclude your labors at night?"

  Again the pause was pregnant before the concept was delivered. "Yes. But I have to see the ground beneath me, the hill before me."

  "That is a resolvable enigma." I reached into the satchel at my side and handed him a hat. "This is a special helmet," I explained. "Here," I pointed, "is a small oil lamp and lens. Miners wear these. It will provide sufficient light so you can successfully navigate yon hillside. There is enough oil to keep it lit for several hours, enough time, I wager, to reach the summit." I lit the wick and was rewarded with a piercing beam of light. "Try it."

  He complied and beamed as bright as the lamp when he realized how effective it indeed was. "Your benevolence is beyond compensation," he assured me warmly. "I will commence this very instant!" He was as good as his word. He grabbed hold of the ropes and started hauling the boulder smoothly up the hill. As I had predicted, no buzzing insects attacked him as he confidently progressed.

  He had traversed a good quarter of the terrain when I called out to him. "Remember," I yelled, "when you reach the summit. Be sure to push the boulder down the other side. We don't want to imperil any innocents traveling this road!"

  "I will, kind stranger. And thank you."

  I watched for a few more minutes, then returned to my wagon. I would have liked to get some sleep, but I had dallied too long in Imogen. My horses snorted in protest as I urged them out onto the road. I had obligations in Hamelin.

  THE HIDDEN PRINCESS

  "Come closer, ladies and gentlemen, friends and neighbors, and enjoy the challenge of the Hidden Princess!" Smiling faces gathered around my wagon as I spread three shells on my overhanging platform. Above it, the banner reading "Dr. Forturo's Traveling Emporium of Miscellaneous Marvels" flapped in the small breeze.

  "As you can see, our princess is indeed shy." I held up a small round stone and placed it under one of the shells. "So shy is she that she is determined to remain hidden from all but the most discerning eye." Smoothly and rapidly--but not too rapidly--I rearranged the shells left, right, above, below, all the while maintaining my spiel. "Now." I stopped and stepped back. "Our heroine believes she is safe and secure under one of her protective canopies. Would anyone care to guess where she has gone?"

  The herd chattered among themselves, first pointing to one, then another of the possibilities. Finally a farm boy with markedly bovine features stepped forward. "I think she's here," he said timorously, touching the one on the left.

  "The lad says the left. Let us discover how discerning he really is." I lifted up the shell and was rewarded by a round of applause as indeed the princess was nestled snugly below. "Excellent, my young friend," I patted him on the head and handed him a trinket. "For your troubles. Now, is anyone else up to the challenge, one that can be enjoyed for a single lead coin?"

  Indeed they were. One after another they offered their wealth to prove their eyesight was more adept than the flashing hands of Dr. Forturo. One by one they were proven wrong. One by one my coffers grew in size, much welcome since the villagers had been particularly immune to my presentations of elixirs, potions and mysterious machines that my Traveling Emporium was famous for.

  I didn't win every time of course; that would be foolish. It is easier to shear the flock a few skeins at a time than all at once. And ultimately more rewarding. But all good things must come to an end; mine ended when a tall man dressed not at all like the villagers stood before me. "You wish to try your skill, young man?" I said and smiled.

  Wordlessly he set a gold coin in front of me and nodded. I finished my routine and he pondered his predicament. "I will say," he paused another moment, "in the center." Before I could react he overturned the shells on the left and right. Both were empty. He then looked at me and smiled. "It would appear I guessed correctly."

  "It would appear so."

  "Let's gaze upon her lovely countenance, shall we?" He reached for the center shell.

  I reacted first this
time. I turned it over... the princess nestled comfortably under her hiding place. "You have definitely earned your prize this day." I maintained my pleasant demeanor as I paid him. "Would anyone else care to try his mettle?"

  "I would," a former player stepped forward. He also put down a gold coin. "We will play the game like this gentleman did. I will lift the two shells that I do not choose."

  "Sir, that is not the way the Hidden Princess is played."

  "If you cannot accept those rules, then perhaps you have not been playing honestly with us," the tall stranger said. "It should matter not which shells are turned over if indeed the princess is under one of them."

  The crowd agreed ominously, I reluctantly. The carnage began. I was able to win a few when my patrons became overconfident, but within the hour I had repaid all that I had gained and quite a few coins more. The villagers walked away laughing with greedy delight when I finally put down my canvas and closed for the evening. They were still laughing when I steered my reluctant team out of the hamlet of Gadmire to find a refuge for the evening.

  A small clearing by a crystal stream proved adequate. I built a campfire, fed my animals and stared into the flames. My appetite had disappeared along with my coins. I had been most fortunate to slip the pebble back under the one shell, otherwise the evening would have proven to be even more embarrassing. One thing was certain, Gadmire was no longer fertile ground. Tomorrow I would have to ply my trade elsewhere.

  "Elsewhere" proved to be Fremound, a fishing village a good three days' travel from my previous target. My top hat, gold trousers and merrily painted wagon proved immediately to be the most exciting event to strike the village since their last flood. It was difficult to determine which was worse, the smell of the crowd or the stench of rotting fish. Yet they proved eager enough and I was able to sell several love potions and charming mechanisms before nightfall. That did not cover my losses from Gadmire, however, so I encouraged them to return after their dinner hour to amuse themselves further at my carriage.

  That evening I introduced the villagers to the game of the Secret Assassins. "As you can see," I said and smiled, gazing down at their unwashed faces, "you have three caves in which you can find refuge." I pointed to each of the shells in turn. "In one of these," I lifted the empty shell, "you shall find safety and treasure. The other two, however, are guarded by demons who will slay you instantly." Indeed the other two shells covered small pebbles. I smoothly rearranged the shells. "Would anyone care to seek their fortune?"

  Indeed they did. I can only imagine it was a result of their fishing activities because they quickly proved to be formidable at the game. But not as formidable as I. The first several times they were able to find their sanctuary without difficulty. Which only meant I had to make it slightly more difficult. Within half an hour the tide had turned strongly in my favor and their coins were flowing rapidly into my coffers. I was feeling quite pleased with my success when an unwelcome but familiar figure stepped forward.

  "I would like to try my fortune," he said coldly and placed a gold coin on the platform.

  With difficulty I managed to maintain my smile. "A new player! We are indeed fortunate this evening." I quickly rearranged the three shells. "You may begin."

  He ignored me; instead he addressed the crowd. "Good citizens of Fremound, there are two ways the game of Secret Assassins may be played. One is an honest test of eyesight versus dexterity. One is dishonest thievery. The quickest way to discover if Dr. Forturo has been using magician's tricks is simply to do this."

  Before I could react he darted forward and upturned all three shells. There was a gasp from the crowd followed by angry curses as not one, not two, but three small pebbles were revealed. I won't go into the ensuing details except to say that all my customers received full refunds--and some even more--and I was forced from Fremound in disgrace.

  The scent of rotting fish trailed me as I made my forlorn voyage out of the village to the sanctuary of the surrounding woods. I spent a good hour cleaning fish parts from my wagon and myself, then made a small campfire and planned. The stranger, whoever he was, was doubtless following me. Why I had no idea. His continual interference in my commerce was unacceptable, however. I needed to learn more.

  When I reentered Fremound later that evening I was dressed not in the gold and sequined regalia that was Dr. Forturo but in a simple brown jerkin and phony beard. I was confident the townspeople would be feting their savior somewhere, and it did not take me long to find them. T he third seaside inn I entered was particularly full; in one corner a large crowd was gathered at a table by the hearth. A voice I now recognized, feared and hated rose above the rest. "Quite simple, really. As you can see, I merely palm the pebble like so as I set down the cup. And now it is as empty as the rest!" A burst of applause followed immediately.

  I ordered a cup of local wine and approached to get a better view of the proceedings. My enemy sat smugly at the table, three gold cups in front of him. As I suspected, he had been demonstrating the secrets of the Hidden Princess to his fawning entourage. "It's a very easy game for deceit," he said. "I feel most fortunate I was passing by your village lest Dr. Forturo steal all your hard-earned fortune."

  The crowd cheered lustily and tankards were raised. Seething, I joined in and took a hefty swig of wine... which I immediately regretted. Apparently the villagers used fish in their wine-making as well.

  "Are there any legitimate games of chance?" one foolish villager asked.

  "Indeed there are. The only truly fair competition involving sight and skill is the game of the Three Kings."

  Someone had to ask it so I did. "And what is that?" I called from the back, making sure to adopt a deeper voice as disguise.

  "One of startling simplicity and infinite challenge. We begin with a simple deck of cards, which, it so happens, I have on me." He withdrew them and spread them on the table. "We only require three; the King of Spades," he separated it with a flourish, "the King of Clubs and the King of Hearts." He held them up so the sheep could see. "Three kings, good folk of Fremound." He turned them face down on the table and rearranged them slowly. "Two of these kings are impostors, pretenders to the throne if you will," he intoned as he continued rearranging them. "Your challenge is to select the King of Hearts, the only true ruler, from the three. Would anyone care to try?"

  A chorus of eager voices rang out, pointing and calling out the various cards. "The one on the left you say?" he asked, then turned it over as several agreed. The King of Hearts did indeed appear. "Most excellent. As you all can see, a fair challenge of skill and luck. Shall we try again?"

  The flock agreed. I watched as he rapidly mixed the cards, rapidly turned over the losing kings and just as rapidly took in their money. I noticed how he repeatedly ignored correct answers while choosing players who were wrong. I noticed how several times he palmed the King of Hearts only to replace it after a suitable interval. I noticed how he let small bettors occasionally win while the larger wagerers continually lost.

  But that I kept to myself. Instead I returned to the bar and ordered another glass of wine. So that was his game. He was following me, using me as the wolf so he could come in and shear my flock! And following me was not difficult, burdened as I was with my wagon of wares while he doubtless rode alone. This financial assassination was going to have to stop, and soon. I nursed my wine, wincing at every cheer and more frequent groan arising from the crowd nearby. By the end of the evening I knew what I had to do.

  One week later I pulled my tired team into the Hamlet of Glenfallow. It was far from the more popular trade routes, which would make my offerings even more appealing. My wagon was quite a spectacle as I entered the village; gold and red and yellow ornamentation, my huge banner wafting in the breeze, I sitting tall in front in my silk hat, gold trousers and checkered vest, tooting my trumpet to signal my arrival.

  The curious villagers looked out as I slowly guided my team to the village center. "Come on, come all," I called out cheerfully.
"Sample for yourselves the bountiful treasures that Dr. Forturo's Traveling Emporium of Miscellaneous Marvels has brought to you!" I disembarked, opened the side of my wagon and I was ready for business.

  The good folk of Glenfallow were not, not initially anyway. Several children approached first; I appeased them with some tricks and a few trinkets. An older resident followed. I sold him an elixir for the soreness in his joints and he limped away satisfied. A few curious housewives, the innkeeper, and soon I had all the people in the village crowded around me.

  All but one. I noticed him tethering his horse and relaxing in the shade of a nearby tree. He wore a beard this time and his clothes were those of a poor farmer. But he could not disguise his height; my nemesis had arrived, just as I knew he would.

  I immediately turned my attention to the crowd before me. "Ladies and gentlemen," I raised my voice, "the Emporium of Dr. Forturo will now be closing for a brief period. Please return this evening as we will again be available to dazzle you with our array of miscellaneous marvels available no where else in our fair land. We also promise you an evening of entertainment you shall not soon forget!"

  There were a few good-natured grumblings but the crowd dispersed as I put away my sign and closed up my establishment. Then I went inside my wagon, locked my door and sat down. To practice.

  As promised I reopened promptly after the dinner hour. A small but enthusiastic crowd soon was herded before me. Among them, in the rear and ducking behind others to shield himself, my enemy waited.

  "Good fellows of Glenfallow," I started my spiel immediately, "as promised, I shall endeavor to entertain you tonight with a game that challenges the eye and the mind. A trifling enigma I like to call the Hidden Princess." I reached down and set three gold cups and a small leather ball before me. "Your task is a most simple yet rewarding one..."

  The villagers got into the spirit of the game very quickly. Just as quickly I got into their purses . I was enjoying a small yet steady profit when he finally walked forward. "I believe I am up to the challenge," he said, placing a gold coin firmly on my platform.