Vale of the Vole (15 page)

"I am only a traveler looking for Gateway Castle," he repeated. "But I don't know how to get in."

"Are you sure you're harmless?" one asked him.

"Quite harmless," he assured her.

"Then we will take you in with us when we go," she said. "But you will have to check in with the authorities."

"I shall be glad to," he said. "Meanwhile, may I help you harvest?"

They giggled, and decided to let him help. So for the next two hours he helped them select ripe shoes. It was important that there be pairs that matched in size and type and color; many excellent ones had to be left because they had no mates. Thus, this was not as easy a job as it had seemed; indeed, in some cases it seemed that it would have been about as easy to make the matching shoes as to find them.

It was fun doing this work, not because Esk had any particular affinity for work, but because the girls were of his own age, and flirted with him constantly, making remarks about lady slippers without mates. Esk realized that there might be more for him at Gateway Castle than just his mission. After all, his grandmother had been a curse fiend.

Then the time came for them to reenter the castle. They trooped along with their baskets of shoes, and Esk went with them. He had been tired when he encountered them, but did not feel so now. In fact, he was feeling very positive.

They came to a pier that projected some distance into the lake. They walked out on this and waited, and soon a thing appeared, rising from the deep water. It resembled a boat, and seemed to be made of wood, but it managed to sail under the water rather than on it. This was decidedly strange to Esk, but the girls crowded toward it without hesitation.

The top opened, and there was a hole down into the boat. The girls stepped across in turn, clinging to the handholds set inside the hole and passing their baskets of shoes across. Then they called to Esk, and he crossed too, and found that there was a ladder. He descended it until he was well below the surface of the lake, his feet finally touching the floor. Then one of the girls climbed back up. He glanced up to see what she was doing, and had to look away before he embarrassed himself by blushing. He had seen right up her skirt.

"Get it tight, Doris!" a girl called.

Tight?

Then the light diminished, and he realized what she was doing: pulling closed the lid to the boat. In the abrupt darkness, someone hugged him and another kissed him on the cheek, giggling. Then a lantern came on, and all the girls were standing sedately around him, not one giving evidence of having done anything untoward.

It was a stern woman with the lamp, coming from another chamber in the boat. "Everybody aboard?" she asked briskly.

"Yesm*—plus one!" There was another giggle.

The woman brought the lamp about, and spied Esk. "A man!" she exclaimed disapprovingly.

"We found him hi the shoe trees," Doris said. "May we keep him, Matriarch?"

"Certainly not. He's going right back where he—"

"No," Esk murmured.

The woman looked nonplused. "Well, the authorities will have to decide. Put him in the hold for now."

So Esk was conducted to the hold, which was simply the cargo compartment of the boat. He settled down among the baskets of shoes, while the girls sneaked winks at him from the adjacent compartment.

The boat began to move. First it sank, so that he knew it was under the water, even the entrance hatch, and that was eerie. Then it slid forward, propelled by some unknown mechanism. He couldn't tell whether there were men hi another chamber poling it along as he and Chex had poled their raft, or whether it was magic.

In due course the boat bumped to a stop. A girl climbed up to the hatch and opened it, and fresh light descended.

Now the girls picked up their baskets and hauled them out of the craft. "Bye, Esk," each murmured as she passed, in low tones that the matron was not supposed to hear.

When all were gone, the matron strode up. "Come on, intruder," she snapped. "You'll be seeing the Magistrate."

He went where directed, climbing up and out of the hatch. He found himself inside a room whose floor was water. The boat was sitting hi this, its hatch beside another pier. This time Esk could see down around it, as the water was illuminated and clear. Now the mechanism for the craft's travel was apparent: there was a winch and a rope attached to it! The boat had simply been hauled in to the underwater city, as it had probably been hauled out to the edge of the lake. Obviously, there would be no people sneaking in by night; the boat would not be sent out for strangers. He was lucky he had cultivated the girls. Not that he had minded that particular diversion; he had not realized before how pleasant such an association could be!

The matron marched him upstairs to a grim office. Here the Magistrate frowned from his desk. "What do you mean by intruding where you aren't welcome?" the man demanded.

Esk was tempted to say that the girls had made him welcome, but

suspected that would not be smart. "My grandmother was a curse fiend," he said. "I came to ask a favor from my relatives."

"A favor? A favor?" the man demanded, reddening. "We don't do favors for anyone; we curse!"

"Not even for relatives?"

The Magistrate huffed indignantly, but evidently felt obliged by his office to investigate this matter. "Who was your grandmother?"

"Well, I don't know what she was called here, because she gave up that name when she married my grandfather. But maybe you know of the case. She was an excellent actress—"

"All of us are excellent thespians," he said stuffily. "The theater is our vocation."

"Who impersonated an ogress," Esk finished. "My grandfather is an ogre."

"An ogre?" the man demanded, outraged. "None of our citizens would touch so brutish a beast!"

"I understand he abducted her from a set. But she married him from choice."

The man turned to a shelf behind him and pulled down a massive tome. He set it on the desk, opened it, and turned the pages, running his forefinger down the margins. "Ogre, ogre," he muttered as he searched.

"Crunch Ogre," Esk said helpfully.

The Magistrate grimaced. "Yes, here it is. Helpless damsel abducted by villainous ogre. We blasted him with a massive curse that killed all the trees of the region, but apparently the brute escaped."

"He became a vegetarian," Esk said. "The curse couldn't find him, because it was looking for a bone cruncher."

"A loophole!" the Magistrate said with withering disgust.

'They had a son named Smash, who married a nymph named Tandy, and I am their son," Esk said. "So I am related to the curse fiends, and now 1 come to ask a favor of my relatives."

"You may be related, barely, in a distasteful technical sense, but that gives you the right only to visit, not to make demands on us. I will grant you a two-day visa; after that you will be banned."

"Oh, I don't intend to stay longer. All I'm asking is help for—"

"Don't tell me your business!" the man exclaimed. "You have no right even to ask, unless you earn it."

"Earn it? How do I earn it?"

"By providing something we need. What can you do?"

Esk considered. Obviously they would not be impressed by his ogre mode, even if he could invoke it, and he doubted that his sometime acting

ability would be anything remarkable here. Then he remembered something his grandmother had mentioned that had seemed like a joke. "I can be an audience," he said.

"Someone must have told you," the Magistrate grumped.

"My curse fiend grandma," Esk agreed smugly, though he was surprised that this had worked. "You have everything you need except advance audiences, right? You need to try out your plays on ordinary folk, before your season commences, to be sure they register correctly. Well, I'm about as ordinary as they come."

"I'll grant you that, youngster. Very well, it is evident that you do have curse fiend lineage, even if you are a bad actor. Here is your visa; you have two days to be a good enough audience to warrant our consideration of your plea. Don't waste them."

"I won't," Esk promised. "If you will just tell me where to go to get to work—"

"First you must clean up. Did you expect to perform as an audience in that condition?" The Magistrate's nose wrinkled. He snapped his fingers, and a girl appeared.

Esk recognized her. She was Doris, the one he had seen on the ladder.

"Take this person to a guest room and clean and dress him appropriately," the Magistrate said.

"Yes, sir," the girl said meekly. She turned to Esk. "If you will follow me, person."

"His name is Esk," the Magistrate said. "He will be a sample audience for two days only."

"Yes, sir," Doris repeated. "Please follow me, Desk."

"Esk!" the Magistrate roared. "Can't you servants get anything straight?"

"No, sir," Doris said.

Esk followed her, intrigued. Doris knew his name; why was she pretending not to?

As soon as they were alone in the hall, he found out. "I subbed for the girl on duty," Doris confided. "If the Magistrate caught on, he'd have me flayed."

"But why? You've already put in a day's work harvesting shoes."

"I think you're cute. I thought if I showed you my legs, you'd like me. Now I get to wash you. That will be fun!"

"You—on the ladder—on purpose?" he asked, almost choking.

"Wasn't I naughty?" She giggled. "I knew you'd look."

But now the other part of this situation registered. "You are going to wash me?"

"It's part of the duty. We're servant girls, until we serve our apprenticeship. Then those with proper promise get to try out for parts, unless we manage to marry above our station. What's your station?"

Now it was clarifying. She was looking for a way to get a better position; her interest in him was little more than an act, taking advantage of an opportunity. He had been fascinated by what he had seen of her legs, but he found her motive less appealing. "My station is very low," he said. "I'm a crossbreed."

She gazed at him, appalled. "What a dirty word!"

"Yes. So you don't want anything more to do with me."

"That's true! You can wash yourself!" She pointed to an open door.

"Thank you," Esk said, entering the chamber. He was sure he had done what was best, but somehow he was disappointed. Her legs had been quite stunning.

By trial and error he figured out how to use the cleaning facility. It was a kind of miniature waterfall that came on when he turned a handle, and stopped when he turned the handle back. This was a new kind of magic!

When he emerged from the waterfall room he found new clothing where he had left his old. His other belongings were neatly set beside; he had not lost his two remaining travel pills or his hand knife. That was a relief.

He donned the new clothing, which was evidently what a sample audience was supposed to wear. It was a light blue set of trousers and a matching long-sleeved shirt. Both fit him well enough. The curse fiends evidently knew how to entertain a guest, or an audience.

He stepped out of the chamber, looking around. Immediately a girl appeared. She was not Doris; this must be the regular one on duty. She was not as pretty or flirtatious, which was perhaps just as well; he didn't want to forget why he had come here. He really did want to help the voles, if he could.

"Now you must eat," the girl informed him.

She guided him to a cubby where a decent meal of fruits and cakes was waiting. Esk ate, going along with the local custom though not entirely comfortable with it. Then the girl wiped his face and combed his hair for him and took him to a quiet, darkened chamber. Was she going to show him her legs, he wondered? But she merely indicated the chair he was to sit in, which was wooden with a single brown cushion on it, and armrests. "The play will begin in a moment," she said, and departed.

Well, so far so good. He realized that he would have to watch and listen carefully, and form some kind of opinion so that he could make a

competent audience report. What would happen if he didn't like the play? Would they throw him out? He hoped he liked the production.

Music sounded, coming from an adjacent chamber. There seemed to be a number of instruments, strings and winds and percussions, operating together harmoniously. Esk had never been much for music, but now he realized that he simply had not been exposed to competent music. This was very impressive, and it induced a positive mood.

There was a stage before him, mostly concealed by a large curtain suspended from the ceiling. Now that curtain brightened, seemingly lighted from below. It rose, showing the rest of the stage—and Esk leaned forward, interested, his interest heightened by the drama of the music.

The stage was a model of Castle Roogna! There was the castle in miniature in the center, suggesting the full-sized castle at a distance. There was the front gate, and the moat, with a model of the serpentine monster to one side.

A young man of about Esk's own age walked to the center. He wore ordinary clothes, but also a small headband resembling a crown. There seemed to be plenty of room to stand despite the presence of the moat; Esk realized that the moat could be painted, so that there was no danger of the actors falling into the water. But it certainly looked real; this was a clever stage.