by Jack Vance
Isak Comandore appeared in the doorway, tall, loosely articulated, head hanging forward. He darted a glance of swift appraisal at Lord Faide, at Hein Huss, then stepped into the room.
Lord Faide crisply explained his desires. “Hein Huss refuses to undertake the mission. Therefore I call on you.”
Isak Comandore calculated. The pattern of his thinking was clear: he possibly could gain much mana; there was small risk of diminution, for had not Hein Huss already dodged away from the project? Comandore nodded. “Hein Huss has made clear the difficulties; only a very clever and very lucky jinxman can hope to succeed. But I accept the challenge, I will go.”
“Good,” said Hein Huss. “I will go, too.” Isak Comandore darted him a sudden hot glance. “I wish only to observe. To Isak Comandore goes the responsibility and whatever credit may ensue.”
“Very well,” said Comandore presently. “I welcome your company. Tomorrow morning we leave. I go to order our wagon.”
Late in the evening Apprentice Sam Salazar came to Hein Huss where he sat brooding in his workroom. “What do you wish?” growled Huss.
“I have a request to make of you, Head Jinxman Huss.”
“Head Jinxman in name only,” grumbled Hein Huss. “Isak Comandore is about to assume my position.”
Sam Salazar blinked, laughed uncertainly. Hein Huss fixed wintry-pale eyes on him. “What do you wish?”
“I have heard that you go on an expedition to Wildwood, to study the First Folk.”
“True, true. What then?”
“Surely they will now attack all men?”
Hein Huss shrugged. “At Forest Market they trade with men. At Forest Market men have always entered the forest. Perhaps there will be change, perhaps not.”
“I would go with you, if I may,” said Sam Salazar.
“This is no mission for apprentices.”
“An apprentice must take every opportunity to learn,” said Sam Salazar. “Also you will need extra hands to set up tents, to load and unload cabinets, to cook, to fetch water and other such matters.”
“Your argument is convincing,” said Hein Huss. “We depart at dawn; be on hand.”
Chapter IX
As the sun lifted over the heath the jinxmen departed Faide Keep. The high-wheeled wagon creaked north over the moss, Hein Huss and Isak Comandore riding the front seat, Sam Salazar with his legs hanging over the tail. The wagon rose and fell with the dips and mounds of the moss, wheels wobbling, and presently passed out of sight behind Skywatcher’s Hill.
Five days later, an hour before sunset, the wagon reappeared. As before, Hein Huss and Isak Comandore rode the front seat, with Sam Salazar perched behind. They approached the keep, and without giving so much as a sign or a nod, drove through the gate into the courtyard.
Isak Comandore unfolded his long legs, stepped to the ground like a spider; Hein Huss lowered himself with a grunt. Both went to their quarters, while Sam Salazar led the wagon to the jinxmen’s warehouse.
Somewhat later Isak Comandore presented himself to Lord Faide, who had been waiting in his trophy room, forced to a show of indifference through considerations of position, dignity and protocol. Isak Comandore stood in the doorway, grinning like a fox. Lord Faide eyed him with sour dislike, waiting for Comandore to speak. Hein Huss might have stationed himself an entire day, eyes placidly fixed on Lord Faide, awaiting the first word; Isak Comandore lacked the absolute serenity. He came a step forward. “I have returned from Wildwood.”
“With what results?”
“I believe that it is possible to hoodoo the First Folk.”
Hein Huss spoke from behind Comandore. “I believe that such an undertaking, if feasible, would be useless, irresponsible and possibly dangerous.” He lumbered forward.
Isak Comandore’s eyes glowed hot red-brown; he turned back to Lord Faide. “You ordered me forth on a mission; I will render a report.”
“Seat yourselves. I will listen.”
Isak Comandore, nominal head of the expedition, spoke. “We rode along the river bank to Forest Market. Here was no sign of disorder or of hostility. A hundred First Folk traded timber, planks, posts and poles for knife blades, iron wire, and copper pots. When they returned to their barge we followed them aboard, wagon, horses and all. They showed no surprise—”
“Surprise,” said Hein Huss heavily, “is an emotion of which they have no knowledge.”
Isak Comandore glared briefly. “We spoke to the barge-tenders, explaining that we wished to visit the interior of Wildwood. We asked if the First Folk would try to kill us to prevent us from entering the forest. They professed indifference as to either our well-being or our destruction. This was by no means a guarantee of safe conduct; however, we accepted it as such, and remained aboard the barge.” He spoke on with occasional emendations from Hein Huss.
They had proceeded up the river, into the forest, the First Folk poling against the slow current. Presently they put away the poles; nevertheless the barge moved as before. The mystified jinxmen discussed the possibility of teleportation, or symbological force, and wondered if the First Folk had developed jinxing techniques unknown to men. Sam Salazar, however, noticed that four enormous water beetles, each twelve feet long with oil-black carapaces and blunt heads, had risen from the river bed and pushed the barge from behind—apparently without direction or command. The First Folk stood at the bow, turning the nose of the barge this way or that to follow the winding of the river. They ignored the jinxmen and Sam Salazar as if they did not exist.
The beetles swam tirelessly; the barge moved for four hours as fast as a man could walk. Occasionally, First Folk peered from the forest shadows, but none showed interest or concern in the barge’s unusual cargo. By midafternoon the river widened, broke into many channels and became a marsh; a few minutes later the barge floated out into the open water of a small lake. Along the shore, behind the first line of trees appeared a large settlement. The jinxmen were interested and surprised. It had always been assumed that the First Folk wandered at random through the forest, as they had originally lived in the moss of the downs.
The barge grounded; the First Folk walked ashore, the men followed with the horses and wagon. Their immediate impressions were of swarming numbers, of slow but incessant activity, and they were attacked by an overpoweringly evil smell.
Ignoring the stench the men brought the wagon in from the shore, paused to take stock of what they saw. The settlement appeared to be a center of many diverse activities. The trees had been stripped of lower branches, and supported blocks of hardened foam three hundred feet long, fifty feet high, twenty feet thick, with a space of a man’s height intervening between the underside of the foam and the ground. There were a dozen of these blocks, apparently of cellular construction. Certain of the cells had broken open and seethed with small white fishlike creatures—the First Folk young.
Below the blocks masses of First Folk engaged in various occupations, in the main unfamiliar to the jinxmen. Leaving the wagon in the care of Sam Salazar, Hein Huss and Isak Comandore moved forward among the First Folk, repelled by the stench and the pressure of alien flesh, but drawn by curiosity. They were neither heeded nor halted; they wandered everywhere about the settlement. One area seemed to be an enormous zoo, divided into a number of sections. The purpose of one of these sections—a kind of range two hundred feet long—was all too clear. At one end three or four First Folk released wasps from tubes; at the other end a human corpse hung on a rope—a Faide casualty from the battle at the new planting. Certain of the wasps flew straight at the corpse; just before contact they were netted and removed. Others flew up and away or veered toward the First Folk who stood along the side of the range. These latter also were netted and killed at once.
The purpose of the business was clear enough. Examining some of the other activity in this new light, the jinxmen were able to interpret much that had hitherto puzzled them.
They saw beetles tall as dogs with heavy saw-toothed pincers attack
ing objects resembling horses; pens of insects even larger, long, narrow, segmented, with dozens of heavy legs and nightmare heads. All these creatures—wasps, beetles, centipedes—in smaller and less formidable form were indigenous to the forest; it was plain that the First Folk had been practicing selective breeding for many years, perhaps centuries.
Not all the activity was warlike. Moths were trained to gather nuts, worms to gnaw straight holes through timber; in another section caterpillars chewed a yellow mash, molded it into identical spheres. Much of the evil odor emanated from the zoo; the jinxmen departed without reluctance, and returned to the wagon. Sam Salazar pitched the tent and built a fire, while Hein Huss and Isak Comandore discussed the settlement.
Night came; the blocks of foam glowed with imprisoned light; the activity underneath proceeded without cessation. The jinxmen retired to the tent and slept, while Sam Salazar stood guard.
The following day Hein Huss was able to engage one of the First Folk in conversation: the first attention of any sort given to them.
The conversation was long; Hein Huss reported only the gist of it to Lord Faide. (Isak Comandore turned away, ostentatiously disassociating himself from the matter.)
Hein Huss first of all had inquired as to the purpose of the sinister preparations: the wasps, beetles, centipedes and the like.
“We intend to kill men,” the creature had reported ingenuously. “We intend to return to the moss. This has been our purpose ever since men appeared on the planet.”
Huss had stated that such an ambition was shortsighted, that there was ample room for both men and First Folk on Pangborn. “The First Folk,” said Hein Huss, “should remove their traps and cease their efforts to surround the keeps with forest.”
“No,” came the response, “men are intruders. They mar the beautiful moss. All will be killed.”
Isak Comandore returned to the conversation. “I noticed here a significant fact. All the First Folk within sight had ceased their work; all looked toward us, as if they, too, participated in the discussion. I reached the highly important conclusion that the First Folk are not complete individuals but components of a larger unity, joined to a greater or less extent by a telepathic phase not unlike our own.”
Hein Huss continued placidly, “I remarked that if we were attacked, many of the First Folk would perish. The creature showed no concern, and in fact implied much of what Jinxman Comandore had already induced: ‘There are always more in the cells to replace the elements which die. But if the community becomes sick, all suffer. We have been forced into the forests, into a strange existence. We must arm ourselves and drive away the men, and to this end we have developed the methods of men to our own purposes!’”
Isak Comandore spoke. “Needless to say, the creature referred to the ancient men, not ourselves.”
“In any event,” said Lord Faide, “they leave no doubt as to their intentions. We should be fools not to attack them at once, with every weapon at our disposal.”
Hein Huss continued imperturbably. “The creature went on at some length. ‘We have learned the value of irrationality.’ ‘Irrationality’ of course was not his word or even his meaning. He said something like ‘a series of vaguely motivated trials’—as close as I can translate. He said, ‘We have learned to change our environment. We use insects and trees and plants and water-slugs. It is an enormous effort for us who would prefer a placid life in the moss. But you men have forced this life on us, and now you must suffer the consequences.’ I pointed out once more that men were not helpless, that many First Folk would die. The creature seemed unworried. ‘The community persists.’ I asked a delicate question, ‘If your purpose is to kill men, why do you allow us here?’ He said, ‘The entire community of men will be destroyed.’ Apparently they believe the human society to be similar to their own, and therefore regard the killing of three wayfaring individuals as pointless effort.”
Lord Faide laughed grimly. “To destroy us they must first win past Hellmouth, then penetrate Faide Keep. This they are unable to do.”
Isak Comandore resumed his report. “At this time I was already convinced that the problem was one of hoodooing not an individual but an entire race. In theory this should be no more difficult than hoodooing one. It requires no more effort to speak to twenty than to one. With this end in view I ordered the apprentice to collect substances associated with the creatures. Skinflakes, foam, droppings, all other exudations obtainable. While he did so, I tried to put myself in rapport with the creatures. It is difficult, for their telepathy works across a different stratum than ours. Nevertheless, to a certain extent I have succeeded.”
“Then you can hoodoo the First Folk?” asked Lord Faide.
“I vouchsafe nothing until I try. Certain preparations must be made.”
“Go then; make your preparations.”
Comandore rose to his feet and with a sly side-glance for Hein Huss left the room. Huss waited, pinching his chin with heavy fingers. Lord Faide looked at him coldly. “You have something to add?”
Huss grunted, hoisted himself to his feet. “I wish that I did. But my thoughts are confused. Of the many futures, all seem troubled and angry. Perhaps our best is not good enough.”
Lord Faide looked at Hein Huss with surprise; the massive Head Jinxman had never before spoken in terms so pessimistic and melancholy. “Speak then; I will listen.”
Hein Huss said gruffly, “If I knew any certainties I would speak gladly. But I am merely beset by doubts. I fear that we can no longer depend on logic and careful jinxmanship. Our ancestors were miracle workers, magicians. They drove the First Folk into the forest. To put us to flight in our turn the First Folk have adopted the ancient methods: random trial and purposeless empiricism. I am dubious. Perhaps we must turn our backs on sanity and likewise return to the mysticism of our ancestors.”
Lord Faide shrugged. “If Isak Comandore can hoodoo the First Folk, such a retreat may be unnecessary.”
“The world changes,” said Hein Huss. “Of so much I feel sure: the old days of craft and careful knowledge are gone. The future is for men of cleverness, of imagination untroubled by discipline; the unorthodox Sam Salazar may become more effective than I. The world changes.”
Lord Faide smiled his sour dyspeptic smile. “When that day comes I will appoint Sam Salazar Head Jinxman and also name him Lord Faide, and you and I will retire together to a hut on the downs.”
Hein Huss made a heavy fateful gesture and departed.
Chapter X
Two days later Lord Faide, coming upon Isak Comandore, inquired as to his progress. Comandore took refuge in generalities. After another two days Lord Faide inquired again and this time insisted on particulars. Comandore grudgingly led the way to his workroom, where a dozen cabalmen, spellbinders and apprentices worked around a large table, building a model of the First Folk settlement in Wildwood.
“Along the lakeshore,” said Comandore, “I will range a great number of dolls, daubed with First Folk essences. When this is complete I will work up a hoodoo and blight the creatures.”
“Good. Perform well.” Lord Faide departed the workroom, mounted to the topmost pinnacle of the keep, to the cupola where the ancestral weapon Hellmouth was housed. “Jambart! Where are you?”
Weapon-tender Jambart, short, blue-jowled, red-nosed and big-bellied, appeared. “My lord?”
“I come to inspect Hellmouth. Is it prepared for instant use?”
“Prepared, my lord, and ready. Oiled, greased, polished, scraped, burnished, tended—every part smooth as an egg.”
Lord Faide made a scowling examination of Hellmouth—a heavy cylinder six feet in diameter, twelve feet long, studded with half-domes interconnected with tubes of polished copper. Jambart undoubtedly had been diligent. No trace of dirt or rust or corrosion showed; all was gleaming metal. The snout was covered with a heavy plate of metal and tarred canvas; the ring upon which the weapon swiveled was well-greased.
Lord Faide surveyed the four horizons.
To the south was fertile Faide Valley; to the west open downs; to north and east the menacing loom of Wildwood.
He turned back to Hellmouth and pretended to find a smear of grease. Jambart boiled with expostulations and protestations; Lord Faide uttered a grim warning, enjoining less laxity, then descended to the workroom of Hein Huss. He found the Head Jinxman reclining on a couch, staring at the ceiling. At a bench stood Sam Salazar surrounded by bottles, flasks and dishes.
Lord Faide stared balefully at the confusion. “What are you doing?” he asked the apprentice.
Sam Salazar looked up guiltily. “Nothing in particular, my lord.”
“If you are idle, go then and assist Isak Comandore.”
“I am not idle, Lord Faide.”
“Then what do you do?”
Sam Salazar gazed sulkily at the bench. “I don’t know.”
“Then you are idle!”
“No, I am occupied. I pour various liquids on this foam. It is First Folk foam. I wonder what will happen. Water does not dissolve it, nor spirits. Heat chars and slowly burns it, emitting a foul smoke.”
Lord Faide turned away with a sneer. “You amuse yourself as a child might. Go to Isak Comandore; he can find use for you. How do you expect to become a jinxman, dabbling and prattling like a baby among pretty rocks?”
Hein Huss gave a deep sound: a mingling of sigh, snort, grunt and clearing of the throat. “He does no harm, and Isak Comandore has hands enough. Salazar will never become a jinxman; that has been clear a long time.”
Lord Faide shrugged. “He is your apprentice, and your responsibility. Well, then. What news from the keeps?”
Hein Huss, groaning and wheezing, swung his legs over the edge of the couch. “The lords share your concern, to greater or less extent. Your close allies will readily place troops at your disposal; the others likewise if pressure is brought to bear.”
Lord Faide nodded in dour satisfaction. “For the moment there is no urgency. The First Folk hold to their forests. Faide Keep of course is impregnable, although they might ravage the valley…” he paused thoughtfully. “Let Isak Comandore cast his hoodoo. Then we will see.”
