Cugel fondled the gem. “Whoever tried to take the jewel by force would be blown to bits, along with the jewel.”

“Rash but effective,” said Iucounu. “I must be off about my business.”

Iucounu, or his apparition, vanished. Cugel, assured that spies watched his every move, gave a shrug and went his own way.

An hour before sundown Cugel arrived at the village Flath Foiry, where he took lodging at the Inn of Five Flags. Dining in the common room, he became acquainted with Lorgan, a dealer in fancy embroideries. Lorgan enjoyed both large talk and generous quantities of drink. Cugel was in no mood for either and pleading fatigue retired early to his chamber. Lorgan remained in bibulous conversation with several merchants of the town.

Upon entering his chamber, Cugel locked the door, then made a thorough inspection by lamp-light. The couch was clean; the windows overlooked a kitchen garden; songs and shouts from the common room were muted. With a sigh of satisfaction, Cugel dimmed the lamp and went to his couch.

As Cugel composed himself for slumber, he thought to hear an odd sound. He raised his head to listen, but the sound was not repeated. Cugel once again relaxed. The odd sound came again, somewhat louder, and a dozen large whispering bat-like creatures flew out of the shadows. They darted into Cugel’s face and climbed on his neck with their claws, hoping to distract his attention while a black eel with long trembling hands worked to steal Cugel’s cap.

Cugel tore aside the bat-things, touched the eel with ‘Spatterlight’, causing its instant dissolution, and the bat-things flew crying and whispering from the room.

Cugel brought light to the lamp. All seemed in order. He reflected a moment, then, stepping out into the hall, he investigated the chamber next to his own. It proved to be vacant, and he took immediate possession.

An hour later his rest was again disturbed, this time by Lorgan, now thoroughly in his cups. Upon seeing Cugel he blinked in surprise. “Cugel, why are you sleeping in my chamber?”

“You have made a mistake,” said Cugel. “Your chamber is next door over.”

“Ah! All is explained! My profuse apologies!”

“It is nothing,” said Cugel. “Sleep well.”

“Thank you.” Lorgan staggered off to bed. Cugel, locking the door, once more threw himself down on the couch and passed a restful night, ignoring the sounds and outcries from the room next door.

In the morning, as Cugel took his breakfast, Lorgan limped downstairs and described to Cugel the events of the night: “As I lay in a pleasantly drowsy state, two large madlocks with heavy arms, staring green eyes and no necks entered by the window. They dealt me any number of heavy blows despite my appeals for mercy. Then they stole my hat and made for the window as if to leave, only to turn back and strike further blows. ‘That is for causing so much trouble,’ they said, and finally they were gone. Have you ever heard the like?”

“Never!” said Cugel. “It is an outrage.”

“Strange things happen in life,” mused Lorgan. “Still, I will not stop at this inn again.”

“A sensible decision,” said Cugel. “Now, if you will excuse me, I must be on my way.”

Cugel paid his score and set off along the high-road, and the morning passed uneventfully.

At noon Cugel came upon a pavilion of pink silk, erected upon a grassy place beside the road. At a table laden with fine food and drink sat Iucounu, who, at the sight of Cugel, jumped up in surprise. “Cugel! What a happy occasion! You must join me at my meal!”

Cugel measured the distance between Iucounu and the spot where he would be obliged to sit; the distance would not allow him to reach across the space holding ‘Spatterlight’ in his gloved hand.

Cugel shook his head. “I have already taken a nutritious lunch of nuts and raisins. You have chosen a lovely spot for your picnic. I wish you a happy appetite, and good day.”

“Wait, Cugel! One moment, if you please! Taste a goblet of this fine Fazola! It will put spring in your steps!”

“It will, more likely, put me to sleep in the ditch. And now —”

Iucounu’s ropy mouth twitched in a grimace. But at once he renewed his affability. “Cugel, I hereby invite you to visit me at Pergolo; surely you have not forgotten the amenities? Every night we will host a grand banquet, and I have discovered a new phase of magic, by which I recall remarkable persons from across the aeons. The entertainments are splendid at Pergolo!”

Cugel made a rueful gesture. “You sing siren songs of inducement! One taste of such glamour might shatter my resolve! I am not the rakehelly Cugel of old!”

Iucounu strove to keep his voice even. “This is becoming all too clear.” Throwing himself back in his chair, he glowered morosely at Cugel’s cap. Making a sudden impatient gesture, he muttered a spell of eleven syllables, so that the air between himself and Cugel twisted and thickened. The forces veered out toward Cugel and past, to rattle away in all directions, cutting russet and black streaks through the grass.

Iucounu stared with yellow eyes bulging, but Cugel paid no heed to the incident. He bade Iucounu a civil farewell and continued along the way.

For an hour Cugel walked, using that loping bent-kneed gait which had propelled him so many long leagues. Down from the fells on the right hand came the Forest Da, softer and sweeter than the Great Erm to the far north. River and road plunged into the shade, and all sound was hushed. Long-stemmed flowers grew in the mold: delice, blue-bell, rosace, cany-flake. Coral fungus clung to dead stumps like cloths of fairy lace. Maroon sunlight slanted across the forest spaces, creating a gloom saturated with a dozen dark colors. Nothing moved and no sound could be heard but the trill of a far bird.

Despite the apparent solitude, Cugel loosened the sword in its scabbard and walked with soft feet; the forests often revealed awful secrets to the innocent.

After some miles the forest thinned and retreated to the north. Cugel came upon a cross-roads; here waited a fine double-sprung carriage drawn by four white wheriots. High on the coachman’s bench sat a pair of maidens with long orange hair, complexions of dusky tan and eyes of emerald green. They wore a livery of umber and oyster-white and, after quick side-glances toward Cugel, stared haughtily ahead.

Iucounu threw open the door. “Hola, Cugel! By chance I came this route and behold! I perceive my friend Cugel striding along at a great rate! I had not expected to find you so far along the way!”

“I enjoy the open road,” said Cugel. “I march at quick-step because I intend to arrive at Taun Tassel before dark. Forgive me if, once again, I cut our conversation short.”

“Unnecessary! Taun Tassel is on my way. Step into the carriage; we will talk as we ride.”

Cugel hesitated, looking first one way, then another, and Iucounu became impatient. “Well then?” he barked. “What now?”

Cugel attempted an apologetic smile. “I never take without giving in return. This policy averts misunderstandings.”

Iucounu’s eyelids drooped at the corners in moist reproach. “Must we quibble over minor points? Into the carriage with you, Cugel; you may enlarge upon your qualms as we ride.”

“Very well,” said Cugel. “I will ride with you to Taun Tassel, but you must accept these three terces in full, exact, final, comprehensive and complete compensation for the ride and every other aspect, adjunct, by-product and consequence, either direct or indirect, of the said ride, renouncing every other claim, now, and forever, including all times of the past and future, without exception, and absolving me, in part and in whole, from any and all further obligations.”

Iucounu held up small balled fists and gritted his teeth toward the sky. “I repudiate your entire paltry philosophy! I find zest in giving! I now offer you in title full and clear this excellent carriage, inclusive of wheels, springs and upholstery, the four wheriots with twenty-six ells of gold chain and a pair of matched maidens. The totality is yours! Ride where you will!”

“I am dumbfounded by your generosity!” said Cugel. “What, may I ask, do you want in return?”

“Bah! Some trifle, perhaps, to symbolize the exchange. The kickshaw that you wear in your hat will suffice.”

Cugel made a sign of regret. “You ask the one thing I hold dear. That is the talisman I found near Shanglestone Strand. I have carried it through thick and thin, and now I could never give it up. It may even exert a magical influence.”

“Nonsense!” snorted Iucounu. “I have a sensitive nose for magic. The ornament is as dull as stale beer.”

“Its spark has cheered me through dreary hours; I could never give it up.”

Iucounu’s mouth drooped almost past his chin. “You have become over-sentimental!” Glancing past Cugel’s shoulder, Iucounu uttered a shrill cry of alarm. “Take care! A plague of tasps is upon us!”

Turning, Cugel discovered a leaping horde of green scorpion-things the size of weasels close upon the carriage.

“Quick!” cried Iucounu. “Into the carriage! Drivers, away!”

Hesitating only an instant Cugel scrambled into the carriage. Iucounu uttered a great sigh of relief. “A very near thing! Cugel, I believe that I saved your life!”

Cugel looked through the back window. “The tasps have disappeared into thin air! How is that possible?”

“No matter; we are safely away, and that is the main point. Give thanks that I was on hand with my carriage! Are you not appreciative? Perhaps now you will concede me my whim, which is the ornament on your hat.”

Cugel considered the situation. From where he sat he could not easily apply the authentic scale to Iucounu’s face. He thought to temporize. “Why would you want such a trifle?”