Cugel looked over his shoulder and spoke in a distinct voice. “Should any casual ears be listening, let it be known that my regard for Iucounu is of a high order.”
Bazzard made a sign of comprehension. “Whatever the case, why are you returning to Azenomei?”
Again Cugel looked in all directions. “Still in reference to Iucounu: his many friends often report overheard messages, but sometimes in garbled form; hence I am careful to avoid loose talk.”
“That is correct conduct!” said Bazzard. “At Llaio, my four fathers are equally prudent.”
After a moment Cugel asked: “Many times I have known a father with four sons, but never before a son with four fathers. What is the explanation?”
Bazzard scratched his head in puzzlement. “I have never thought to ask,” he said. “I will do so at the earliest opportunity.”
The journey proceeded without incident and late in the afternoon of the second day, the two arrived at Llaio, a large manse of sixteen gables.
A groom took the trap into charge; Bazzard conducted Cugel through a tall iron-bound door, across a reception hall and into a parlour. High windows, each of twelve violet panes, dimmed the afternoon sunlight; fusty magenta beams, slanting down across the room, warmed the dark oak wainscoting. A long table rested on dark green carpeting. Close together, with their backs to the fire, sat four men of unusual aspect, in that they shared between them a single eye, a single ear, a single arm and a single leg. In other respects the four were much alike: small and slight, with round serious faces and black hair cut short.
Bazzard performed the introductions. As he spoke the four men deftly passed arm, eye and ear back and forth, so that each was able to appraise the quality of their visitor.
“This gentleman is Cugel,” said Bazzard. “He is a minor grandee of the Twish River Valley, who has suffered the jokes of someone who shall remain nameless. Cugel, allow me to present my four fathers! They are Disserl, Vasker, Pelasias and Archimbaust: at one time wizards of repute until they too ran afoul of a certain prankster magician.”
Pelasias, who at this moment wore both the eye and ear, spoke: “Be assured of our welcome! Guests at Llaio are all too rare. How did you chance to meet our son Bazzard?”
“We occupied close pavilions at the Exposition,” said Cugel. “With due respect for Duke Orbal, I feel that his rulings were arbitrary, and neither Bazzard nor I won the prize.”
“Cugel’s remarks are not exaggerated,” said Bazzard. “I was not even allowed to simulate the songs of my unfortunate fish.”
“A pity!” said Pelasias. “Still, the Exposition no doubt provided memorable experiences for you both, so the time was not wasted. Am I right in this, Bazzard?”
“Quite right, sir, and while the subject is fresh in my mind, I would like you to resolve a perplexity. A single father often boasts four sons, but how does a single son boast four fathers?”
Disserl, Vasker and Archimbaust rapidly tapped the table; the eye, ear and arm were interchanged. At last Vasker made a curt gesture. “The question is nuncupatory.”
Archimbaust, providing himself with eye and ear, examined Cugel with care. He seemed especially interested in Cugel’s cap, to which Cugel had again attached ‘Spatterlight’. “That is a remarkable ornament,” said Archimbaust.
Cugel bowed politely. “I consider it very fine.”
“As to the origin of this object: do you care to provide us any information?”
Cugel smilingly shook his head. “Let us change the subject to more interesting topics. Bazzard tells me that we have a number of friends in common, including the noble and popular Iucounu.”
Archimbaust blinked his eye in puzzlement. “Are we speaking of that yellow, immoral and repulsive Iucounu, sometimes known as the ‘Laughing Magician’?”
Cugel winced and shuddered. “I would never make such insulting references to dear Iucounu, especially if I thought that he or one of his loyal spies might overhear.”
“Aha!” said Archimbaust. “Now I understand your diffidence! You need not worry! We are protected by a warning device. You may speak freely.”
“In that case I will admit that my friendship with Iucounu is not deep and abiding. Recently, at his command, a leather-winged demon carried me across the Ocean of Sighs and dropped me sprawling upon a dreary beach known as Shanglestone Strand.”
“If that is a joke, it is in poor taste!” declared Bazzard.
“That is my opinion,” said Cugel. “In regard to this ornament, it is actually a scale known as the ‘Pectoral Skybreak Spatterlight’, from the prow of the demiurge Sadlark. It exhibits power which, frankly, I do not understand, and is dangerous to the touch unless your hands are wet.”
“All very well,” said Bazzard, “but why did you not wish to discuss it before?”
“By reason of a most interesting fact: Iucounu owns all the rest of Sadlark’s scales! He will therefore covet ‘Spatterlight’ with all of that intense and excitable yearning which we associate with Iucounu.”
“Most interesting!” said Archimbaust. He and his brothers tapped a flurry of messages back and forth, interchanging their single eye, ear and arm with swift precision. Cugel, watching, at last was able to hazard a guess as to how four fathers might sire a single son.
Vasker presently asked: “What are your plans in connection with Iucounu and this extraordinary scale?”
“I am both uncertain and uneasy,” said Cugel. “Iucounu covets ‘Spatterlight’: true! He will approach me and say: ‘Ah, dear Cugel, how nice that you bring me “Spatterlight”! Hand it over, or prepare for a joke!’ So then: where is my recourse? My advantage is lost. When one deals with Iucounu, he must be prepared to jump nimbly from side to side. I have quick wits and agile feet, but are these enough?”
“Evidently not,” said Vasker. “Still —”
A hissing noise made itself heard. Vasker at once imposed upon his voice the tremolo of fond recollection: “Yes, dear Iucounu! How strange, Cugel, that you should also number him among your friends!”
Noting Bazzard’s secret sign, Cugel spoke in tones equally melodious. “He is known far and wide as an excellent fellow!”
“Just so! We have had our little differences, but is this not sometimes the way? Now, all is forgotten, on both sides, I am sure.”
Bazzard spoke: “If you should chance to see him in Almery, please convey our very warmest regards!”
“I will not be seeing Iucounu,” said Cugel. “I plan to retire to a snug little cabin beside the River Sune and perhaps learn a useful trade.”
“On the whole, this seems a sensible plan,” said Archimbaust. “But come now, Bazzard, tell us more of the Exposition!”
“It was grandly conceived,” said Bazzard. “No doubt as to that! Cugel displayed a remarkable hole, but Duke Orbal disallowed it on grounds of fugacity. Xallops showed a ‘Compendium of Universal Knowledge’ which impressed everyone. The cover depicted the Gnostic Emblem, in this fashion …”
Taking up stylus and paper, Bazzard scribbled: Do not look now, but Iucounu’s spy hangs above, in a wisp of smoke. “There, Cugel! Am I not correct?”
“Yes, in the main, although you have omitted several significant flourishes.”
“My memory is not the best,” said Bazzard. He crumpled the paper and threw it into the fire.
Vasker spoke. “Friend Cugel, perhaps you would enjoy a sip of dyssac, or might you prefer wine?”
“I will be happy with either,” said Cugel.
“In that case, I will suggest the dyssac. We distill it ourselves from local herbs. Bazzard, if you will.”
While Bazzard served the liquor, Cugel glanced as if casually around the chamber. High in the shadows he noticed a wisp of smoke from which peered a pair of small red eyes.
In a droning voice Vasker spoke of the Llaio fowl-run and the high price of feed. The spy at last became bored; the smoke slipped down the wall, into the chimney and was gone.
Pelasias looked through the eye to Bazzard. “The alarm again is set?”
“Quite so.”
“Then once again we can speak freely. Cugel, I will be explicit. At one time we were wizards of reputation, but Iucounu played us a joke which still rankles. Our magic for the most part is forgotten; nothing remains but a few tendrils of hope and, of course, our abiding detestation of Iucounu.”
