From within the cabin an angry silence prevailed. Then presently, as water continued to pour in through the vent, a soft hissing and clicking began to be heard, and then a furious whisper: “I declare a nuisance! Let the water abate!”
Shilko, before mounting guard, had stepped into the galley for a few swallows of wine to warm his blood. Posturing and waving his sword before the door, he cried out: “Black hag, your time has come! You shall drown like a rat in a sack!”
For a period the sounds within were stilled, and nothing could be heard but the splash of water into water. Then once again: a hissing and clicking, at an ominous pitch, and a set of rasping vocables.
Shilko, emboldened both by wine and the planks across the door, called out: “Odorous witch! Drown more quietly, or I, Shilko, will cut out both your tongues!” He flourished his sword and cut a caper, and all the while the buckets were busy.
From within the cabin something pressed at the door, but the planks held secure. Again from within came a heavy thrust; the planks groaned and water spurted through cracks. Then a third impact, and the planks burst apart. Foul-smelling water washed out upon the deck; behind came Nissifer. Clothed in neither gown, hat nor veil, she stood revealed as a burly black creature of hybrid character, half sime and half bazil, with a bristle of black fur between the eyes. From a rusty black thorax depended the segmented abdomen of a wasp; down the back hung sheaths of black chitin-like wing-cases. Four thin black arms ended in long thin human hands; thin shanks of black chitin and peculiar padded feet supported the thorax with the abdomen hanging between.
The creature took a step forward. Shilko emitted a strangled yell and, stumbling backwards, fell to the deck. The creature jumped forward to stand on his arms, then, squatting, drove its sting into his chest. Shilko uttered a shrill cry, rolled clear, turned several frantic somersaults, fell to the ground, bounded blindly to the lake and thrashed here and there in the water, and at last became still. Almost at once the corpse began to bloat.
Aboard the Avventura, the creature named Nissifer turned and started to re-enter the cabin, as if satisfied that it had rebuffed its enemies. Cugel, on the afterdeck, slashed down with his sword and the blade, trailing a thousand sparkling motes, cut through Nissifer’s left eye and into the thorax. Nissifer whistled in pain and surprise, and stood back the better to identify its assailant. It croaked: “Ah Cugel! You have hurt me; you shall die by a stench.”
With a great pounding flutter of wing-cases, Nissifer sprang up to the afterdeck. In a panic, Cugel retreated behind the binnacle. Nissifer advanced, the segmented abdomen squirming up and forward between the thin black legs, revealing the long yellow sting.
Cugel picked up one of the empty buckets and flung it into Nissifer’s face; then, while Nissifer fought away the bucket, Cugel jumped forward and with a great sweep, cut the vincus, so as to separate abdomen from thorax.
The abdomen, falling to the deck, writhed and worked and presently rolled down the companion-way to the deck.
Nissifer ignored the mutilation and came forward, dripping a thick yellow liquid from its vincus. It lurched toward the binnacle and thrust out its long black arms. Cugel backed away, hacking at the arms. Nissifer shrieked and lunging forward, swept the sword from Cugel’s grasp.
Nissifer stepped forward with clicking wing-cases, and seizing Cugel, drew him close. “Now, Cugel, you will learn the meaning of fetor.”
Cugel bent his head and thrust ‘Spatterlight’ against Nissifer’s thorax.
When Varmous, sword in hand, climbed the companionway, he found Cugel leaning limp-legged against the taff-rail.
Varmous looked around the afterdeck. “Where is Nissifer?”
“Nissifer is gone.”
Four days later the caravan came down from the hills to the shores of Lake Zaol. Across the glimmering water eight white towers half-hidden in pink haze marked the site of Kaspara Vitatus, sometimes known as ‘The City of Monuments’.
The caravan circled the lake and approached the city by the Avenue of the Dynasties. After passing under a hundred or more of the famous monuments, the caravan arrived at the center of town. Varmous led the way to his usual resort, the Kanbaw Inn, and the weary travelers prepared to refresh themselves.
While ordering the cabin occupied by Nissifer, Cugel had come upon a leather sack containing over a hundred terces, which he took into his private possession. Varmous, however, insisted upon helping Cugel explore the effects of Ivanello, Ermaulde, and Perruquil. They discovered another three hundred terces which they shared in equal parts. Varmous took possession of Ivanello’s wardrobe, while Cugel was allowed to keep the milk-opal ear-bangle, which he had coveted from the first.
Cugel also offered Varmous full title to the Avventura for five hundred terces. “The price is an absolute bargain! Where else will you find a sound vessel, fully outfitted and well-found, for such a price?”
Varmous only chuckled. “If you offered to provide me a goiter of superlative size for ten terces, would I buy, bargain or not?”
“We have here a distinctly different proposition,” Cugel pointed out.
“Bah! The magic is failing. Every day the ship sags more heavily to the ground. In the middle of the wilderness what good is a ship which will neither float in the air nor sail in the sand? In a foolhardy spirit, I will offer you a hundred terces, no more.”
“Absurd!” scoffed Cugel, and there the matter rested.
Varmous went out to see to the repair of his wagons and discovered a pair of lake fishermen inspecting the Avventura with interest. In due course Varmous succeeded in obtaining a firm offer for the vessel, to the amount of six hundred and twenty-five terces.
Cugel, meanwhile, drank beer at the Kanbaw Inn. As he sat musing, into the common room strode a band of seven men with harsh features and rough voices. Cugel looked twice at the leader, then a third time, and finally recognized Captain Wiskich, one-time owner of the Avventura. Captain Wiskich evidently had picked up the trail of the vessel and had come in hot pursuit to recover his property.
Cugel quietly departed the common room and went in search of Varmous, who, as it happened, was also on the look-out for Cugel. They met in front of the inn. Varmous wanted to drink beer in the common room, but Cugel led him across the avenue to a bench from which they could watch the sun set into Lake Zaol.
Presently the Avventura was mentioned and with surprising ease agreement was reached. Varmous paid over two hundred and fifty terces for full title to the vessel.
The two parted on the best of terms. Varmous went off to locate the fishermen, while Cugel, disguising himself in a hooded cloak and a false beard, took lodging at the Green Star Inn, using the identity Tichenor, a purveyor of antique grave-markers.
During the evening a great tumult was heard, first from the neighborhood of the docks and then at the Kanbaw Inn, and persons coming into the Green Star common room identified the rioters as a group of local fishermen in conflict with a band of newly arrived travelers, with the eventual involvement of Varmous and his teamsters.
Order was restored at last. Not long after, two men looked into the Green Star common room. One called out in a rough voice: “Is there anyone here named Cugel?”
The other spoke with more restraint: “Cugel is urgently needed. If he is here, let him step forward.”
When no one responded the two men departed and Cugel retired to his room.
In the morning Cugel went to a nearby hostlery where he purchased a steed for his journey south. The ostler’s boy then conducted him to a shop where Cugel bought a new pouch and a pair of saddle-bags into which he packed necessities for his journey. His hat had become shabby and also carried a stench where it had pressed against Nissifer. Cugel removed ‘Spatterlight’, wrapped it in heavy cloth and tucked it into his new pouch. He bought a short-billed cap of dark green velvet, which, while far from ostentatious, pleased Cugel with its air of restrained elegance.
Cugel paid his account from the terces in the leather sack from Nissifer’s cabin; it also exhaled a stench. Cugel started to buy a new sack but was dissuaded by the ostler’s boy. “Why waste your terces? I have a sack much like this one which you may have free of charge.”
“That is generous of you,” said Cugel, and the two returned to the hostlery, where Cugel transferred his terces into the new sack.
The steed was brought forth. Cugel mounted and the boy adjusted the saddle-bags in place. At this moment two men of harsh appearance entered the hostlery, and approached with quick strides. “Is your name Cugel?”
“Definitely not!” declared Cugel. “By no means! I am Tichenor! What do you want with this Cugel?”
“None of your affair. Come along with us; you have an unconvincing manner.”
