The Ultimate Stonemage: A Modest Autobiography (21 page)

At once, I saw what a paltry gift I had been given—a chair and table worth half an arran in exchange for a pot worth four! Well, I returned to the inn with my furniture, but when I reached my room I had already decided I would settle the score with Otter.

Late that night, I set out once more for Otter’s shop. Of course, the shop was locked up by then, but it was easy for me to gain entrance, for the window frames were held in place with just a few of those ring bindings their builders are so fond of. I removed these bindings from one of the windows and pulled it out, frame and all, from the wall. Setting the window frame against the ground, I climbed inside the building through the hole where the frame had been.

I had brought along the little bedside lantern from the inn, and by its dim light I started hunting around for Otter’s money box. I searched every cupboard and shelf, but to no avail. Well, after I had searched for half an hour or so, I began to despair, for the hour was late and I was growing weary. I thought to myself, “Ah well, perhaps I shall accept my losses as they come.”

I think, though, that God read my thoughts and decreed I should be recompensed fully and fairly, as I had first intended, because, just as I was about to leave, I suddenly felt a piece of the floor wobble beneath my foot. I looked down and saw I had stepped upon a small, square section, set cunningly in among the planks.

“Hoho!” said I. “I will wager this is where he keeps his gold.”

I pried up the section and pulled out a wooden box placed beneath. When I opened it, sure enough, it was filled with money—Saghenian crowns, mostly. I counted out eighty of these for myself, which is approximately the value of the four arrans he owed me for the pot.

Then I thought, “Ah, but what of the chair and table Otter gave me as a gift? If I take this money for my pot, I will then be indebted to him for the gift.” The solution was simple. I decided to pay him for the chair and table, so they would no longer be a gift from him, but would rather be an ordinary trade, silver for wood. So I took ten crowns from my purse (which is to say, half an arran) and placed them back in the box in payment for the chair and the table.

I left the building exactly as I had found it. I placed the box back in its hiding place and I carefully replaced and repaired the window—for I was not there to do mischief, but simply to rectify an inequity.

And do not think I returned directly to the inn with my money, as a thief might do. No, I made certain that, on the way there, I passed a church. Although it was locked, I knelt at the door and prayed my thanks to God, and then I placed five crowns under the door as a gift to Him to show my appreciation for His wisdom and justice.

Yet More Of The Eleventh Part

In Which I Describe My Practice As A Joiner And Mender In The City Of Stanneck And The Friends And Enemies I Made There

The next day, I rose
early and went to one of the better marketplaces. I set up my chair and my table near the centre, and when the people started to arrive, I called out to them. I had a fine cry to bring in the crowd. It went:

O, you that have things broken or unjoined,

Come to me, and I will make those things mended or joined once more!

My prices are half those of any other mender or joiner,

And my workmanship is better also!

My cry attracted a good many customers, and they soon found my claims were not idle. Most joiners in the city charged two crowns for each tiny binding they placed, so if you came to them with an urn broken in many pieces, you could pay fifty crowns by the time all the pieces were secured. What is worse, they would take days to complete the job.

I, on the other hand, charged a flat rate of five crowns for all easy repairs, and ten crowns for a difficult repair, and I completed most jobs within minutes of receiving them. What is more, my repairs were so well executed that people gasped to see the high quality and durability of the work, which far exceeded anything the local menders might achieve, for their bindings were weak and delicate, whereas mine were the same powerful bonds I used to strengthen mighty walls and towers.

On one occasion, a woman came to me with the pieces of a valuable ivory statuette which had been broken. She wore rich clothing and had ten myrmidons escorting her, She asked me what it would cost to repair it and how long the repair would take. I said, “Ten crowns, and it will take me five minutes.”

She said, “How is that?
Yon Crowid said it would cost eighty crowns and would take a week.”

I said this Yon Crowid of hers was an unskilled rascal, and I told her I would set to work immediately. “If you do not like the results,” I said, “then pay me nothing.”

Before her eyes, I assembled the parts of the statuette, with strong point bindings, then, when all was done, I placed sheet bindings and cross-bindings throughout the ivory, for added strength.

Then I turned to her and said, “Is that to your liking?”

She said, “Yes, very much.”

I said, “Well watch this!” Then I threw the statuette down onto the cobblestones with all my strength.

She cried out at this, but when she saw the statuette was not broken or even chipped by my violent action, her cries of alarm changed to cries of the utmost delight and pleasure.

She said, “I declare you are the finest craftsman in all the world.” Then she paid me twenty crowns, which was twice what I had asked, and said, “My name is
Shellith and I have many powerful friends. You may be sure I will speak to them all about your singular talents.”

She was true to her word, and many of the city’s wealthiest patrons started coming to me, bringing valuable and precious objects in need of repair.

Another time, a young child was crossing through the market near to my table when a group of older children set upon him, teasing him about his fine new cloak. Then they took hold of the cloak and started pulling it, so it tore.

I cannot bear to see injustice done, and I immediately leaped over my table and dealt out discipline with a few good swipes and punches, chiding the youths for their heartless behaviour. Then, so they would all remember the lesson, I took the leader of the group and gave his ears such a boxing that the blood flowed from them and he howled for mercy.

After the other children had run off, I turned my attention to the little fellow who had been their victim. He was very distressed to see such a gash in his cloak, and he wept like a tiny baby, which was hardly surprising since he was barely more than an infant.

I quickly cheered him, though. I said, “What, then? Your cloak is ruined? Let us see what we can do.” Then I took the fabric, laid it out flat upon my table, placed the torn parts together, and cast
Renny’s Plaque upon them. It is usually used to cover a wall, but I scaled it to a small size, just enough to cover the rip. At once, the cloak was mended, and the join was almost undetectable, except the fabric in that small area was now as stiff as steel.

The infant was very much cheered when he saw his cloak was once again restored, and all the passers-by who had stopped to watch the scene gave me a great cheer when they saw the kind thing I had done—and at no charge too.

Thanks to these and other acts of generosity and good craftsmanship, my reputation spread very quickly. I did not let fame swell my head, and I kept my prices very low. Even so, I completed each job so swiftly I was able to accumulate a great fortune in just a few months—hundreds of arrans, in fact. I saved this money in a chest which I kept in my room at the inn. To keep out thieves, I placed powerful wefts and bindings upon the chest, so it might not be moved or opened except by me. I also spent a couple of arrans on a large and ornate tent, which I set up in the marketplace to draw further business.

Naturally, my success did not please the other menders and joiners who worked within the city. This was partly because I was taking business away from them, but they also hated me because I was not afraid to speak out about them. I told everyone who came to me that the other menders were cheats and rogues who lacked any real talent.

After a time, the menders and joiners conspired against me. I started to receive notes which said such things as “Leave this city, or face the consequences,” and “Soon you will die,” and so on. I merely laughed at these threats, for I am no coward. But those rogues looked for fresh ways to strike a blow against me.

A cat used to follow me to the marketplace in the morning and, during the day, it would often come up to me as I worked and rub itself against my legs. One morning, as I left the inn to begin my day’s work, I saw the cat had been killed and placed near the inn’s entrance, together with a note reading: “
Glissa: Cease your work!” This did not bother me a jot, though, because I had never asked for the creature’s affections, and I do not really like cats, although the inn’s gardener, who owned the cat, was sad when he came across the creature’s body.

They used magic against me then, or rather, I should say, some sorcerer they had hired used magic against me. I cannot say precisely how this transaction was negotiated, but I am certain it went something like this:

They said to the sorcerer, “This fellow Glissa is too fine a craftsman for us to endure his presence in our city, for he makes our work look shoddy by comparison, and he reveals to the citizens that we are cheats, and inept into the bargain, which is a secret we do not wish to spread.”

Then the sorcerer said, in evil tones, “What vile service would you have me do?”

And they said, “Kill him! Kill him! It would delight our wicked souls for you to spill his good and righteous blood.”

But the sorcerer told them, “There is no magic so strong it may cut a righteous man open or strike him dead upon the spot. But I can weave powerful spells so he will die of fear.”

They said, “Yes! Yes! That would be even better! O, what a cruel and unjust revenge we will have upon this fellow!”

So then, as I was in my room one night, I saw a green light at the window. When I looked out at the window, I saw a luminous globe hovering there, with a evil face inside it.

I am no illusionist, but I know enough of such magic to know these spheres are harmless, provided you do not lick them. Therefore, I just nodded, thinking, “Very pretty. That is a nice one.” Then I went to bed.

The next night another globe appeared. This time, within the globe, there was the image of a dagger. Well, that is not a very frightening thing, for a dagger is nothing more than a knife, so I opened the window and shouted out, “The face from last night was a more frightening image. Moreover, the detailing upon the dagger is shoddy, for the back of the blade is hazy, as is part of the handle.”

I am sure these words must have annoyed their sorcerer greatly, for all those illusionists think their creations are very perfect.

On the following night, I left my window open to see what would happen. Instead of hovering outside, the globe drifted into my room, so I could see it from where I lay in my bed.

This globe contained the form of a beautiful maiden eating fat, juicy strawberries, which she held out for me to try. The maiden vanished then, and all that was in the globe was a bowl of strawberries on a small, round table. I watched the strawberries for a long time, but they did not move or change in any way. I was puzzled, until I realized the sorcerer expected me to try to lick the strawberries, which would have killed me from the violent shattering of the magic into my face.

I know all this because I once built an illusion house, and I was told to add a barrier between the inner seats of the circle and the stage where the magical globes appear. The purpose of this barrier was to stop drunken patrons in the front row from leaning forward and licking the illusions.

Even if I had been unaware of the dangers of the illusion-spheres, however, I would have been a sad sort of fool if I had tried to lick those strawberries, for they glowed green; and furthermore, the table on which they stood hovered a foot from the ground. Besides, I am not in the habit of licking food while it sits within the bowl. Rather, I like to pick my food up with my hands, and if I were to find my hand passed through it, I do not think I would be inclined to make further explorations with my tongue.

Still, I found I could not sleep with those strawberries lighting up the room, so at last I left my bed and shouted from the window, “Yes, yes. I have tasted those luminous beauties, and they are quite delicious. Nyerm nyerm nyerm!”

My words brought no response, so I took a little water from the jug at my bedside and flicked a few drops at the globe. This action caused the globe to evaporate in a bright flash, and I heard a voice in the street give a cry of pain, so I suppose the illusionist had burnt himself through some kind of sympathetic reaction.

On the next night, the globe showed a group of excellent dancing fiends, then showed a beautiful maiden being devoured by a snake. This was a fair display, and could have been a very good one if the snakes had eaten the maiden starting at the feet rather than at the head, for then I would have seen her terrified face to the last.

On the fifth night of these entertaining displays, I saw a truly marvellous show, which I will tell of now.

It started, as usual, with the sphere appearing at my window, then drifting through the window into my room. It stopped a few feet beyond. It was a little further from the foot of my bed than I would have liked, but I suppose the sorcerer who was casting the spell could not see my room from where he stood. (He would have stood somewhere in the streets below, for that is the way this magic works.)

Within the globe, which was green, I saw the image of a beetle. “Well,” I said to myself, “that is not so frightening. This will not be a good show.”

I was wrong, though, for the next thing you know, the beetle began to walk, and it seemed as if he walked towards me, for he grew bigger and bigger. Then I saw the beetle burrowing into something. As the image emerged from the haze, I saw it was burrowing into the neck of a sleeping man. I think the man was supposed to be me. Certainly he had clothes much like those I wore then. His face, though, was a little different from my own, and not so handsome.

In any case, the beetle burrowed into his neck, and then the man awoke, and he clutched his throat. As I watched, his body seemed to rot away, until only the bones remained. His skeleton then started to move. It stood, walked away from me, apparently looking for something. Suddenly, it stopped as if it heard a sound. Then it slowly turned and started walking towards me, with an accusing finger stretched out.

A very remarkable effect followed this. The skeleton grew closer and closer, until its skull filled the globe and became hazy. Then, very suddenly, the globe itself grew and took the shape of a skeleton, hovering horizontally above the floorboards. Its mouth opened wide then, and it actually spoke, saying “Aaaaaaaaahhh.”

Well, I jumped when I heard it speak, you may be certain! I had never before seen an illusion that spoke, and I have never seen one since. Or at least, not speaking with a voice of its own, for the voices you hear in the best illusion halls are provided by actors who hide under the treddle boards.

I quickly realized the skeleton was supposed to be hovering over my bed, staring down at me, but, once again, the sorcerer had made a bad guess of where my bed was placed in the room.

Because I was anxious to receive the full effect of the illusion, I pushed my bed over to the part of the floor where the skeleton was hovering, then climbed back under the blankets.

It was very exciting to look up and see a great skeleton hovering over me, although it was now silent once more. Well, I wanted the full effect, so I shouted out, “Oh! That is a horrible thing! By the gods, I hope the skeleton does not once more return to the globe, then emerge in exactly the same manner as before, moaning in the same fearsome way!”

Sure enough, the illusionist heard my words, and, taking me to be almost at my wits’ end with terror, he repeated the last few minutes of the illusion, with the skeleton inside the globe walking towards me, then the globe growing and changing shape so it became a skeleton hovering directly over me. When it opened its huge mouth and started moaning once more, I was so thrilled and frightened I pulled my blankets over my face with the excitement of it all.

Then the skeleton returned to the confines of the globe, and it danced around and shook for a time. Then, I saw a kind of story unfold. First, the skeleton was in the marketplace, when it saw a beautiful girl. She looked at it very lovingly, and it was clear the skeleton was in love with her. But when her father, who was a king, saw she was looking at the skeleton, he pulled her back and beat her, then sent soldiers to drive the skeleton away. The skeleton ran off, but later it came back to the marketplace and looked up to the tower of the castle, where the princess could be seen.