The Eyes of the Overworld (12 page)

“Indeed, indeed,” said Cugel. “The position appears worthy of consideration. What responsibilities are entailed?”

“They are as the nomenclature implies. The Watchman must keep watch, for this is one of the old-fashioned customs we observe. The duties are hardly onerous, but they must not be scamped, because that would signify farce, and we are serious folk, even in connection with our quaint traditions.”

Cugel nodded judiciously. “The conditions are straightforward. The Watchman watches; nothing could be more clearly expressed. But who is Magnatz, in what direction should he be apprehended, and how may he be recognized?”

“These questions are of no great application,” said the hetman, “since the creature, in theory, has no existence.”

Cugel glanced up at the tower, across the lake, back toward the public repository. “I hereby make application for the position, providing all is as you state.”

Firx instantly impinged a series of racking pangs upon Cugel's vitals. Cugel bent double, clasped his abdomen, straightened, and making excuses to the perplexed hetman, moved to the side. “Patience!” he implored Firx. “Temperance! Have you no concept of realities? My purse is empty; there are long leagues ahead! To travel with any degree of expedition, I must restore my strength and replenish my wallet. I plan to work at this office only long enough to do both, then it is post-haste to Almery!”

Firx reluctantly diminished the demonstrations, and Cugel returned to where the hetman waited.

“All is as before,” said Cugel. “I have taken counsel with myself and believe I can adequately fulfill the obligations of the job.”

The hetman nodded. “I am pleased to hear this. You will find my presentation of the facts to be accurate in every essential aspect. I likewise have been reflecting, and I can safely say that no other person of the town aspires to so august a position, and I hereby pronounce you Watchman of the Town!” Ceremoniously the hetman brought forth a golden collar, which he draped around Cugel's neck.

They returned toward the tavern, and as they went, the folk of Vull, noting the golden collar, pressed upon the hetman with eager questions. “Yes,” was his answer. “This gentleman has demonstrated his capabilities, and I have pronounced him Watchman of the Town!”

At the news the folk of Vull became generously expansive, and congratulated Cugel as if he had been a resident the whole of his life.

All repaired to the tavern; wine and spiced meat were set out; pipers appeared and there was decorous dancing and merry-making.

During the course of the evening Cugel spied an extremely beautiful girl dancing with a young man who had been part of the hunting party. Cugel nudged the hetman, directed his attention to the girl.

“Ah yes: the delightful Marlinka! She dances with the lad whom I believe she plans to espouse.”

“Her plans possibly are subject to alteration?” inquired Cugel meaningfully.

The hetman winked slyly. “You find her attractive?”

“Indeed, and since this is a perquisite of my office, I hereby declare this delightful creature my bride-elect. Let the ceremonies be performed at once!”

“So swiftly?” inquired the hetman. “Ah well, the hot blood of youth brooks no delay.” He signaled the girl and she danced merrily over to the table. Cugel arose, performed a deep bow. The hetman spoke. “Marlinka, the Watchman of the Town finds you desirable and wishes you for his spouse.”

Marlinka seemed first surprised, then amused. She glanced roguishly at Cugel, and performed an arch curtsey. “The Watchman does me great honor.”

“Further,” intoned the hetman, “he requires that the marital ceremonies be performed on the instant.”

Marlinka looked dubiously at Cugel, then over her shoulder at the young man with whom she had been dancing. “Very well,” she said. “As you will.”

The ceremony was performed, and Cugel found himself espoused to Marlinka, whom, on closer examination, he saw to be a creature of delightful animation, charming manners and exquisite appearance. He put his arm around her waist. “Come,” he whispered, “let us slip away for a period and solemnize the connubiality.”

“Not so soon,” whispered Marlinka. “I must have time to order myself; I am over-excited!” She released herself, and danced away.

There was further feasting and merry-making, and to his vast displeasure Cugel noted Marlinka again dancing with the youth to whom she formerly had been betrothed. As he watched she embraced this young man with every evidence of ardor. Cugel marched forward, halted the dance, took his bride aside. “Such an act is hardly appropriate; you have only been married an hour!”

Marlinka, both surprised and non-plussed, laughed, then frowned, then laughed again and promised to behave with greater decorum. Cugel attempted to lead her to his chamber, but she once again declared the moment unsuitable.

Cugel drew a deep sigh of vexation, but was consoled by the recollection of his other perquisites: the freedom of the repository, for instance. He leaned over to the hetman. “Since now I am titular guardian to the public repository, it is only prudent that I acquaint myself in detail with the treasure I am charged with guarding. If you will be so good as to turn over the keys, I will go to make a quick inventory.”

“Even better,” said the hetman, “I will accompany you, and do what I can in the way of assistance.”

They crossed to the repository. The hetman unlocked the door and held a light. Cugel entered, examined the valuables. “I see that all is in order, and perhaps it is advisable to wait till my head is settled before undertaking a detailed inventory. But in the meantime —” Cugel went to the jewel bin, selected several gems, and began to tuck them into his pouch.

“A moment,” said the hetman. “I fear you inconvenience yourself. Shortly you will be fitted with garments of rich cloth deserving of your rank. The wealth is most conveniently kept here in the treasury; why trouble yourself with the weight, or incur the possibility of loss?”

“There is something in what you say,” remarked Cugel, “but I wish to order the construction of a mansion overlooking the lake and I will need wealth to pay the costs of construction.”

“In due time, in due time. The actual work can hardly commence until you have examined the countryside and chosen the most felicitous site.”

“True,” agreed Cugel. “I can see that there are busy times ahead. But now — back to the tavern! My spouse is over-modest and now I will brook no further delay!”

But upon their return Marlinka was nowhere to be found. “Doubtless she has gone to array herself in seductive garments,” suggested the hetman. “Have patience!”

Cugel compressed his lips in displeasure, and was further annoyed to find that the young huntsman had likewise departed.

The merry-making waxed apace, and after many toasts, Cugel became a trifle fuddled, and was carried up to his chamber.

Early in the morning the hetman rapped at the door, and entered at Cugel's summons. “We must now visit the watch-tower,” said the hetman. “My own son guarded Vull this last night, since our tradition demands incessant vigilance.”

With poor grace Cugel dressed himself and followed the hetman out into the cool air of morning. They walked to the watch-tower, and Cugel was astounded both by its height and by the elegant simplicity of its construction, the slender stem rearing five hundred feet into the air to support the cupola.

A rope ladder was the only means of ascent. The hetman started up and Cugel came below, the ladder swaying and jiggling in such a fashion as to cause Cugel vertigo.

They gained the cupola in safety and the hetman's weary son descended. The cupola was furnished in rather less luxury than Cugel had expected, and indeed seemed almost austere. He pointed out this fact to the hetman, who stated that the deficiencies were readily repaired. “Merely state your requirements: they shall be met!”

“Well then: I will want a heavy rug for the floor — tones of green and gold might be the most felicitous. I require a more elegant couch, of greater scope than that disreputable pallet I see against the wall, as my spouse Marlinka will be spending much of her time here. A cabinet for gems and valuables there, a compartment for sweetmeats there, a tray for perfumed essences there. At this location I will require a taboret with provision for chilling wines.”

The hetman assented readily to all. “It shall be as you say. But now we must discuss your duties, which are so simple as almost to require no elaboration: you must keep watch for Magnatz.”

“This I understand, but as before a corollary thought occurs to me: in order to work at optimum efficiency I should know what or whom I am to watch for. Magnatz might stalk unhindered along the esplanade were I unable to recognize him. What then is his semblance?”

The hetman shook his head. “I cannot say; the information is lost in the fog of ages. The legend reports only that he was tricked and baffled by a sorcerer, and taken away.” The hetman went to the observation port. “Notice: here is an optical device. Working by an ingenious principle, it bloats and augments those scenes toward which you direct it. From time to time you may choose to inspect landmarks of the area. Yonder is Mount Temus; below is Lake Vull where no one can sail for vortices and whirlpools. In this direction is Padagar Pass, leading eastward into the land of Merce. You can barely discern that commemorative cairn decreed by Guzpah the Great when he brought eight armies to attack Magnatz. Magnatz erected another cairn — see that great mound to the north? — in order to cover their mangled corpses. And there is the notch Magnatz broke through the mountains that cooling air might circulate through the valley. Across the lake lie certain titanic ruins, where Magnatz had his palace.”

Cugel inspected the various landmarks through the optical device. “Magnatz was by all accounts a creature of vast potency.”

“So the legends assert. Now, a final matter. If Magnatz appears — a laughable whimsy, of course — you must pull this rod, which rings the great gong. Our laws stringently forbid ringing the gong, except at the sight of Magnatz. The penalty for such a crime is intensely severe; in fact, the last Watchman betrayed his high office by wantonly ringing the gong. Needless to say, he was judged harshly, and after he had been torn to bits by a criss-cross of chains, his fragments were cast into a whirlpool.”

“What an idiotic fellow!” remarked Cugel. “Why forfeit so much wealth, good cheer and honor for a footling amusement?”

“We are all of like opinion,” stated the hetman.

Cugel frowned. “I am puzzled by his act. Was he a young man, to yield so readily to a frivolous whim?”

“Not even this plea can be made in his behalf. He was a sage of four-score years, three-score of which he had served the town as Watchman.”

“His conduct becomes all the more incredible,” was Cugel's wondering comment.

“All of Vull feel the same.” The hetman rubbed his hands briskly. “I believe that we have discussed all the essentials; I will now depart and leave you to the enjoyment of your duties.”

“One moment,” said Cugel. “I insist upon certain alterations and improvements: the rug, the cabinet, the cushions, the tray, the couch.”

“Of course,” said the hetman. He bent his head over the rail, shouted instructions to those below. There was no instant response, and the hetman became exasperated. “What a nuisance!” he exclaimed. “It appears I must see to the matter myself.” He began to climb down the rope ladder. Cugel called after him, “Be good enough to send up my spouse Marlinka, as there are certain matters I wish to take up with her.”

“I shall seek her out at once,” called the hetman over his shoulder.

Several minutes later there was a creaking of the great pulley; the ladder was lowered at the end of the rope which supported it. Looking over the side Cugel saw that the cushions were about to be raised. The heavy rope supporting the ladder rattled through the pulley, bringing up a light line — hardly more than a stout cord — and on this cord the cushions were raised. Cugel inspected them with disapproval; they were old and dusty, and not at all of the quality he had envisioned. Most certainly he would insist upon furnishings superior to this! Possibly the hetman intended these merely as a stop-gap until cushions of the requisite elegance could be provided. Cugel nodded: this was obviously the situation.

He looked around the horizon. Magnatz was nowhere to be seen. He swung his arms once or twice, paced back and forth, went to look down at the plaza, where he expected to find artisans assembling the appurtenances he had ordered. But there was no such activity; the towns-people appeared to be going about their usual affairs. Cugel shrugged, went to make another inspection of the horizon. As before, Magnatz was invisible.

Once more he surveyed the plaza. He frowned, squinted: was that his spouse Marlinka walking past in the company of a young man? He focused the optical device upon the supple shape: it was Marlinka indeed, and the young man who clasped her elbow with insolent intimacy was the huntsman to whom she had at one time been affianced. Cugel clamped his jaw in outrage. This sort of behaviour could not continue! When Marlinka presented herself, he would speak emphatically upon the subject.

The sun reached zenith; the cord quivered. Looking over the side Cugel saw that his noon repast was being hoisted in a basket, and he clapped his hands in anticipation. But the basket, when he lifted the cloth, contained only a half-loaf of bread, a chunk of tough meat, a flask of thin wine. Cugel stared at the sorry fare in shock, and decided to descend on the moment to set matters straight. He cleared his throat, called down for the ladder. No one appeared to hear him. He called more loudly. One or two of the folk looked up in mild curiosity, and passed on about their business. Cugel jerked angrily at the cord, hauled it over the pulley, but no heavy rope appeared nor a rope ladder. The light line was an endless loop, capable of supporting approximately the weight of a basket of food.