Fedirun. Presently we entered my new mistress’ study, where the furnishings were as much superior to those of the chamber in Maldivius’ maze, or in Bagardo’s wagon, as fine wine is to ditch water. Although it was a sunny day and private citizens were not supposed to use artificial light, drawing all their illumination from the great mirror, three candles natheless glowed in a sconce on the wall.
###
Madam Roska sat at her desk, clad in a long robe of some sheer, filmy stuff, through which the natural Roska was plain to see. The sight of a human female in this state fascinates and excites the male, but that is just one of the oddities in the reproductive behavior of this species.
Roska was a tall, slender woman with gray hair, painstakingly done up into a graceful coiffure. She had narrow, refined features of a kind that, I was told, is deemed highly beautiful in Novaria. (I cannot judge such matters myself, since to me all Prime Planers look much alike.) Although well past her youth, she had retained much of her youthful smoothness and regularity of feature.
She smiled at us as the Fediruni ushered us in. “I see you got him, my good Noïthen.”
“Your ladyship,” said Noïthen, sinking to one knee and then rising again.
“Dear Noïthen, so faithful! Do show Master Zdim about my dwelling, present him to the rest of my staff, and explain his position—nay, I’ve changed my mind. Come hither, O Zdim.”
I was flattered at being addressed as “Master,” which title is not usually given to servants in Novaria. I approached.
“Are you in sooth he who served Doctor Maldivius, in his lair near Chemnis?” she asked.
“Aye, madam.”
“Heard you him speak of some danger overhanging Ir?”
“Aye, mistress. He chaffered with the Syndic Jimmon over the price of revealing this peril.”
“And didn’t he sell your indenture in resentment of your allowing Farimes of Hendau to steal his magical gemstone?”
“Aye.”
“Didst ever watch him whilst he scried?”
“As to that, madam, he insisted that I stand guard over him during his divinatory trances. So I am well acquainted with his methods.”
“Ah! We shall see. Let us proceed at once to my oratory and try your knowledge. You may go, Noïthen.”
Noïthen: “If your ladyship consider herself safe alone with this—this—”
“Oh, fear not for me. My little dragon-man is a model of propriety. Come, Zdim.”
The oratory was a small, eight-sided room in a corner of the house, cluttered with magical paraphernalia like that of Maldivius’ sanctum. On a table in the center stood a bowl holding a gem exactly like the Sibylline Sapphire.
“Is that Maldivius’ gem, madam?” I asked.
She giggled. “You’ve guessed it. ’Twas naughty of me to let Noïthen buy it from a notorious purveyor of stolen goods, but the welfare of our land demands that it be in responsible hands. Besides, Maldivius has too many old enemies in Ir City to return hither and sue me. Now tell me just what Maldivius did when he scried!”
“Well, my lady, first he prayed. Then—”
“What prayer said he?”
“The common one to Zevatas—the one that begins: ‘Father Zevatas, king of the gods, architect of the universe, lord of all, may thy name be honored forever . . .”
“Yes, yes, I know. Then what?”
“Then he made a preparation of herbs—”
“Which herbs?”
“I know not all of them; but I think one was basil, from the smell . . .”
Madam Roska got out one of her books of magic and checked through the recipes. Between this book and what I could recall of Maldivius’ procedure, we reconstructed most of the spell that put Maldivius into his trances. At last we could get no further.
“Most naughty of you, Zdim darling, very naughty indeed, not to have watched more closely and remembered better!” she said, patting a yawn. I was taken aback by being addressed as “darling” and wondered if this would be repetition of my embarrassing encounter with
###
Madam Roska sat at her desk, clad in a long robe of some sheer, filmy stuff, through which the natural Roska was plain to see. The sight of a human female in this state fascinates and excites the male, but that is just one of the oddities in the reproductive behavior of this species.
Roska was a tall, slender woman with gray hair, painstakingly done up into a graceful coiffure. She had narrow, refined features of a kind that, I was told, is deemed highly beautiful in Novaria. (I cannot judge such matters myself, since to me all Prime Planers look much alike.) Although well past her youth, she had retained much of her youthful smoothness and regularity of feature.
She smiled at us as the Fediruni ushered us in. “I see you got him, my good Noïthen.”
“Your ladyship,” said Noïthen, sinking to one knee and then rising again.
“Dear Noïthen, so faithful! Do show Master Zdim about my dwelling, present him to the rest of my staff, and explain his position—nay, I’ve changed my mind. Come hither, O Zdim.”
I was flattered at being addressed as “Master,” which title is not usually given to servants in Novaria. I approached.
“Are you in sooth he who served Doctor Maldivius, in his lair near Chemnis?” she asked.
“Aye, madam.”
“Heard you him speak of some danger overhanging Ir?”
“Aye, mistress. He chaffered with the Syndic Jimmon over the price of revealing this peril.”
“And didn’t he sell your indenture in resentment of your allowing Farimes of Hendau to steal his magical gemstone?”
“Aye.”
“Didst ever watch him whilst he scried?”
“As to that, madam, he insisted that I stand guard over him during his divinatory trances. So I am well acquainted with his methods.”
“Ah! We shall see. Let us proceed at once to my oratory and try your knowledge. You may go, Noïthen.”
Noïthen: “If your ladyship consider herself safe alone with this—this—”
“Oh, fear not for me. My little dragon-man is a model of propriety. Come, Zdim.”
The oratory was a small, eight-sided room in a corner of the house, cluttered with magical paraphernalia like that of Maldivius’ sanctum. On a table in the center stood a bowl holding a gem exactly like the Sibylline Sapphire.
“Is that Maldivius’ gem, madam?” I asked.
She giggled. “You’ve guessed it. ’Twas naughty of me to let Noïthen buy it from a notorious purveyor of stolen goods, but the welfare of our land demands that it be in responsible hands. Besides, Maldivius has too many old enemies in Ir City to return hither and sue me. Now tell me just what Maldivius did when he scried!”
“Well, my lady, first he prayed. Then—”
“What prayer said he?”
“The common one to Zevatas—the one that begins: ‘Father Zevatas, king of the gods, architect of the universe, lord of all, may thy name be honored forever . . .”
“Yes, yes, I know. Then what?”
“Then he made a preparation of herbs—”
“Which herbs?”
“I know not all of them; but I think one was basil, from the smell . . .”
Madam Roska got out one of her books of magic and checked through the recipes. Between this book and what I could recall of Maldivius’ procedure, we reconstructed most of the spell that put Maldivius into his trances. At last we could get no further.
“Most naughty of you, Zdim darling, very naughty indeed, not to have watched more closely and remembered better!” she said, patting a yawn. I was taken aback by being addressed as “darling” and wondered if this would be repetition of my embarrassing encounter with
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