“I will make my revelations only at a conclave of high magicians, where pledges are a matter of public record and must be honoured.”
The short-tempered Zanzel jerked around in his seat. “What! Do you now blacken my reputation as well?”
Ildefonse held up his hand. “Zanzel, I implore your patience! Who knows what this six-fingered rascal has to tell us? Lehuster, what is the thrust of your news?”
“The Murthe is at large among you, with squalms and ensqualmations. I will say no more until my safety is assured.”
“Bah!” snorted Zanzel. “You cannot fuddle us with such fol-de-rol. Gentlemen, I bid you good-day; I must be off about my business.”
Ildefonse demurred. “This is an extraordinary case! Zanzel, you are well-meaning but unaware of certain facts. As Preceptor, I now must order you to bring Lehuster alive and well to an immediate conclave at Boumergarth, where we will explore all phases of this matter. Rhialto, I trust that you are well enough to be on hand?”
“Absolutely and by all means! The topic is of importance.”
“Very well then: all to Boumergarth, in haste!”
Lehuster ventured an objection. “Must I run all the way? I will arrive too fatigued to testify.”
Ildefonse said: “To regularize matters, I will assume custody of Lehuster. Zanzel, be good enough to loosen the chain.”
“Folly and nonsense!” grumbled Zanzel. “This scoundrel should be executed before he confuses all of us!”
Rhialto, somewhat surprised by Zanzel’s vehemence, spoke with decision: “Ildefonse is correct! We must learn what we can.”
2
The conclave at Boumergarth, assembled to hear the revelations of Lehuster, attracted only fifteen of the association’s membership, which at this time numbered approximately twenty-five. On hand today were Ildefonse, Rhialto, Zanzel, the diabolist Shrue, Hurtiancz, Byzant the Necrope, Teutch who directed the intricacies of a private infinity, Mune the Mage, the cool and clever Perdustin, Tchamast who claimed to know the source of all IOUN stones, Barbanikos, Haze of Wheary Water, Ao of the Opals, Panderleou, whose collection of ultra-world artifacts was envied by all, and Gilgad.
Without ceremony Ildefonse called the conclave to order. “I am disappointed that our full roster has not appeared, since we must consider a matter of extraordinary importance.
“Let me first describe the recent experience of our colleague Rhialto. In barest outline, he was lured into Were Wood by the hint of an imaginary song. After wandering for a period, he met a woman who pushed him into a pool of extremely cold water … Gentlemen, please! I see no occasion for levity! This is a most important affair, and Rhialto’s misfortunes are not to be taken lightly! Indeed, for various reasons our speculations lead us to the Murthe.” Ildefonse looked from face to face. “Yes, you heard me correctly.”
When the mutter of comment had dwindled away, Ildefonse continued his remarks. “In an apparently unrelated circumstance, Zanzel recently made the acquaintance of a certain Lehuster, a denizen of the 18th Aeon. Lehuster, who stands yonder, indicates that he has important news to bring us, and again he mentions the Murthe. He has kindly agreed to share his information with us, and I now call upon Lehuster to step forward and report those facts of which he is cognizant. Lehuster, if you will!”
Lehuster made no move. “I must withhold my testimony until I am guaranteed fairly my life, a bargain which should cause no pain, since I have committed no crime.”
Zanzel called out angrily: “You forget that I myself witnessed your conduct!”
“Merely a solecism. Ildefonse, do you then promise to hold my life in security?”
“You have my guaranty! Speak on!”
Zanzel sprang to his feet. “This is preposterous! Must we welcome each scoundrel of time into our midst, to satiate himself on our good things, meanwhile perverting our customs?”
The burly and irascible Hurtiancz spoke. “I endorse the progressive views of Zanzel! Lehuster may be only the first of a horde of deviates, morons, and incorrect thinkers sluiced into our placid region!”
Ildefonse spoke in soothing tones. “If Lehuster’s news is truly valuable, we must reluctantly concede him his due. Lehuster, speak! We will overlook your flawed conduct as well as your offensive feathers. I, for one, am anxious to hear your news.”
Lehuster advanced to the podium. “I must place my remarks in historical perspective. My personal time is the late First Epoch of the 18th Aeon, at a time well before Grand Motholam, but when the Master Magicians and the Great Witches rivalled each other in power: a case similar to the Eleventh Epoch of the 17th Aeon, when the magicians and the sorceresses each strove to outdo the other, and eventually precipitated the War of the Wizards and Witches.
“The witches won this great war. Many of the wizards became archveults; many others were destroyed and the witches, led by the White Witch Llorio, dominated all.
“For an epoch they lived in glory. Llorio became the Murthe and took up residence in a temple. There, as a living idol, comprised both of organic woman and abstract female force, she was joyfully worshipped by every woman of the human race.
“Three magicians survived the war: Teus Treviolus, Schliman Shabat and Phunurus the Orfo. They joined in a cabal and after deeds of daring, craft and cunning to tax credibility, they seized the Murthe, compressed her to a poincture, and took her from the temple. The women became distraught; their power waned while that of the magicians revived. For epochs they lived in a taut accommodation; and these were adventurous times!
“Finally the Murthe won free and rallied her witches. But Calanctus the Calm, under whom I served, rose to the challenge. He broke the witches and chased them north to the back of the Great Erm, where to this day a few still crouch in crevices dreading every sound lest it be the footfall of Calanctus.
“As for the Murthe, Calanctus dealt nobly with her and allowed her exile to a far star, then went into seclusion, after first charging me to keep the Murthe under surveillance.
“His orders came too late; she arrived neither at Naos nor at Sadal Suud. I never abandoned the search and recently discovered a trail of time-light* leading to the 21st Aeon; in fact, the terminus is now.
“I am therefore convinced that the Murthe is extant today, and so must be considered a danger of immediacy; indeed, she has already ensqualmed among this present group.
“As for myself, Lehuster the Benefer, I am here for a single purpose: to marshal the magicians into a faithful cabal that they may control the resurgent female force and so maintain placidity. The urgency is great!”
Lehuster went to the side and stood with arms folded: a posture which caused the red feathers growing along his shoulders to project like epaulettes.
Ildefonse cleared his throat. “Lehuster has rendered us a circumstantial account. Zanzel, are you satisfied that Lehuster has fairly won his life and liberty, provided that he agrees to mend his ways?”
“Bah!” muttered Zanzel. “He has produced only hearsay and old scandal. I am not so easily hoodwinked.”
Ildefonse frowned and pulled at his yellow beard. He turned to Lehuster. “You have heard Zanzel’s comment. Can you sustain your remarks?”
“Ensqualmation will prove me out, as you will see, but by then it will be too late.”
Vermoulian the Dream-walker chose to address the group. Rising to his feet, he spoke with transparent sincerity. “As I go about my work, I walk through dreams of many sorts. Recently — indeed, only two nights since — I came upon a dream of the type we call the ‘intractive’ or ‘inoptative’, in which the walker exerts little control, and even may encounter danger. Oddly enough, the Murthe was a participant in this dream, and so it may well be relevant to the present discussion.”
Hurtiancz jumped to his feet and made a gesture of annoyance. “We came here at great inconvenience, to sentence and execute this archveult Lehuster; we do not care to ramble through one of your interminable dreams.”
