Tamurello smilingly shook his head. "He went his way, I went mine; I know nothing of his present locality."
"Why not alter the habits of a lifetime and speak with candor?" asked Shimrod. "Truth, after all, need not be only the tactic of last resort."
"Ah, Shimrod! I am concerned by your negative opinion! In regard to Visbhume, I have nothing to hide. I spoke to him last night, then we parted company. I can offer no insights as to his plans."
"What did he tell you?"
"Hm hah! I fear that we verge close upon the question of confidentiality! Still, I will tell what I know. He reported that he had only just arrived from Tanjecterly, which is one of Twitten's ‘Dekadiade', as perhaps you know."
"Something to this effect has reached me. Did he mention the Princess Glyneth? What were his reports of her?"
"In this regard he was somewhat evasive, and I infer that she came to an unhappy end. Tanjecterly is a cruel domain."
"He was not specific in this regard?"
"Not altogether. In fact, his intent was to tell me as little as possible."
"While in your presence did he discard all his clothing, for reasons totally beyond my conjecture?"
"What a startling idea!" declared Tamurello, in mild reproach. "The images which you place before my mind's eye are deplorable!"
"Most odd! Last night I came upon his garments in a heap at the side of the road."
Tamurello gave his head a bland shake, "Often, in cases of this sort, the simple explanation is ignored or overlooked. Perhaps he merely exchanged his soiled and travel-worn garments for others more presentable."
"Would he discard his valuable copy of Twitten's Almanac along with the soiled clothes?"
Tamurello, caught offguard, arched his sardonic eyebrows high and stroked his neat black beard. "One can only suspect him of absentmindedness, or vagary. But of course I cannot presume knowledge of Visbhume's quirks. Now, please excuse me."
Tamurello turned to Melancthe. "And what have you found of interest?"
"Here is where I found my flowers, but now the plants are dead, and I will never know their charm again."
"A pity." Glancing into the booth, Tamurello caught sight of the green pearl. He became instantly rigid, then advanced step by slow step, to bend his head down over the box.
"It is a green glory, a nonpareil!" declared Yossip in excitement. "The price? A trifling hundred gold coins!"
Tamurello paid no heed. He reached out his hand; his fingers fluttered down upon the pearl. From the shadows at the end of the counter a green and black snake lunged forth. It seized the pearl in its mouth and gulped it down in a trice, then slid back across the counter, down to the ground and away into the forest.
Tamurello gave a choked cry and ran around the booth, in time to see the snake slide into a hole between the roots of a gnarled old oak.
Tamurello clenched his hands, cried out a spell of six syllables and transformed himself into a long gray weasel which darted into the hole after the snake.
From below ground came faint squeaks and hisses: then silence.
A minute passed. Up from the hole came the weasel carrying the green pearl in its mouth. For an instant it glared red-eyed across the meadow, then jerked into motion and started to bound away.
A florid young peasant with flaxen hair moved even more quickly. He clapped a glass jar over the weasel and fixed tight the lid, compressing the weasel down upon its haunches, where it sat, the green pearl firmly in its mouth, the long nose pushed down on its belly, and its hind legs thrust up past its ears.
The peasant put the jar on the counter of Yossip's booth, and as the group watched, the weasel dissolved into a green transparency, like a skeleton in aspic, with the pearl glowing green at its center.
III
THE GRAY CRUMBLE OF THE ASPHRODISKE SKYUNE became lost in the haze astern, as the wole ran to the west: away from the black moon, back across the Plain of Lilies. Overhead the yellow sun and the green sun circled each other with a languid incessant inevitability, which Glyneth thought might ultimately disturb a person of erratic disposition, and which, if the truth be known, she herself found unpleasant, now that she had time to brood.
With Visbhume's departure, the tension along taut nerves had suddenly loosened, and the stimulation of Visbhume's mercurial, if odd, personality was gone, leaving a flat tired aftermath.
At the first halt Glyneth insisted that Kul rest and renew his strength. Kul, however, quickly became moody, and refused to lie quiet in the manner which Glyneth considered proper. "I feel trapped in this little house!" he growled. "When I lie still, staring up at the thatch, I feel like a corpse with his eyes open. I hear voices shouting as if from far distances; as I lie idle the voices come wild and angry, and grow louder!"
"Still, you must recuperate," Glyneth declared. "Therefore, rest is needful; nothing else will serve, since I dare not use Visbhume's tonics on you at random."
"I want none of Visbhume's stuffs," muttered Kul. "I feel better when we travel west; that is the command given into my mind, and I feel easy only when I obey."
"Very well then," said Glyneth. "We shall travel, but you must sit quietly and let me nurse you. I do not know what I would do if you sickened and died."
"Yes, that would be most tragic," Kul agreed. He sat up from the couch. "Let us be on our way. I feel better already!" Once again the wole ran westward. Kul's spirits improved and he began to show traces of his old vitality.
The Plain of Lilies fell behind, and the Dark Woods, and presently the town Pude appeared in the distance. Kul took up Zaxa's two-handed sword Zil and went to stand in front of the pergola, legs apart and the point of the sword between his feet. On the high bench Glyneth arranged the blow-tube and the fire-mites, and made sure that the Tormentor bulbs were ready to hand.
Entering Pude, the wole cantered down the center of the main street, while folk peered down through the windows of their tall crabbed houses. No one came out to challenge their passage, and they crossed the bridge without a thought for the payment of toll.
With the River Haroo safely to the rear, Glyneth gave a nervous laugh. "We are not popular in Pude. The children did not bring us flowers and there was no trace of a celebration. Even the dogs refused to bark and the mayor hid under his bed."
Kul looked back with a grim smile. "To my great relief, since I too would like to hide and skulk. If the children struck me with a single flower petal I would fall flat; I lean on this sword to hold myself erect; I doubt if I could lift it to strike a blow if Visbhume's neck itself were the target."
"Why stand there then? Sit down and rest! Think strong and hopeful thoughts and soon you will be as healthy as ever!" Kul limped back to the low bench. "We shall see."
Ahead lay the trackless Tang-Tang Steppe, and Glyneth began to fear that they might deviate from their course and so lose their way. The only dependable landmark was the pink star in the east, but to keep this star directly astern was a difficult task, and the two continually searched for landmarks along the way. They passed through the region of vast trees; as before the half-human tree-dwellers issued hysterical threats and made offensive signs. Kul steered the wole so as to veer around the trees and took refuge in the pergola. "I wish to provoke no one, not even these miserable creatures."
"Poor Kul!" said Glyneth. "But do not fret; soon you will grow strong again, and you will no longer take such frights. Meanwhile you may rely on me, since I have Visbhume's wallet ready to hand."
Kul made a growling noise in his throat. "It has not quite come to that yet. Though, for a fact, I am of little value."
Glyneth indignantly contradicted him. "Of course you are of value, especially to me! We shall go slowly and give you time to rest."