Dulnessa the bareback rider. My tendrils, however, failed to detect any lustful emotions, and I soon learnt that this was merely Roska’s usual mode of address. To get along on the Prime Plane, one must realize that human beings do not, half the time, mean what they say. She continued: “But I do weary of this pursuit, and my art calls me. Awad!” The Fediruni appeared, bowing.
“Take Master Zdim away,” said Roska, “and put him to some simple household task until the morrow and whilst I remember—tell Philigor to put him on the payroll at ninepence a day. Thank you.”
As Awad led me away, I asked: “What is Her Ladyship’s art?”
“This year, ’tis painting.”
“What was it whilom?”
“Last year, ’twas making ornamental feather sprays; the year before that, playing the cithern. Next year ’twill be something else, I’ll wager.”
During the next few days, I learnt that Madam Roska was a very talented and energetic woman. She could never, however, adhere to any one course long enough to follow it to its outcome. She could change her mind and her plans oftener than anyone I have known, even among these fickle Prime Planers. Remembering Jimmon’s words, I wondered how so light-minded a person had not only kept but even augmented the estate she had inherited. I suppose that, beneath her superficial volatility, she hid a core of hard-headed shrewdness, or else that she had had a run of astounding luck.
On the other hand, she was always poised, polite, and gracious, even to the meanest of those she commanded. When she had driven them frantic by her sudden changes of plan, and they muttered and growled against her in their quarters, someone was sure to defend her by saying: “After all, she is a lady.”
These gatherings of the twenty-odd servants were frequent, since Roska rode her help with a light rein. They were also hotbeds of gossip. I learnt among other things that half the unattached men of the upper classes in Ir City were suitors for Roska’s hand—or at least for the Blixens fortune. Plenty of attached ones, for that matter, would have been glad to shed the wives they had and replace them by Roska. The servants had a pool on who would succeed, but there was no sign yet that any bettor would soon collect the pot.
###
Between us, Roska and I reconstructed Maldivius’ entire spell. We were ready to embark upon this magical work when she said: “Ah, no, darling Zdim; I am suddenly terrified of what I might see. Here, take my place. Canst scry?”
“I know not, madam, never having tried it.”
“Well, try it now. Begin with the prayer to Zevatas.”
“I endeavor to give satisfaction,” I said and settled myself in her chair. I recited the prayer, but without feeling, since the gods of Ning are not those of Novaria. I sniffed the fumes and spake the Mulvanian cantrip:
Jyū zormē barh tigai tyūvu . . .
Sure enough, the flickering lights in the Sapphire began to take form. First came a cloudy confusion of scenes: bits of sky and cloud, land and sea, all mixed up and shifting. One instant, I seemed to be looking down upon the earth from a height, as if I were a bird; the next, it was as if I lay on a meadow, looking out between blades of grass. Then I seemed to be sunken in the sea, where dim, finny forms moved in and out of the blue distance. After a while I learnt to control these effects, so that my viewpoint became fixed.
“What shall I look for?” I said. Speaking while in such a trance is like trying to talk with one’s head wrapped in a blanket.
“The menace that Maldivius said threatens Ir,” she said.
“I heard of this menace, but Maldivius did not reveal its nature.”
“Think, now. Was it that some neighboring nation plans mischief?”
“I heard of no such thing. Are any of these neighbors at enmity with Ir?”
“We are at peace with all, said peace being no uneasier than usual. Tonio of Xylar is unfriendly, being leagued with Govannian against our ally
“Take Master Zdim away,” said Roska, “and put him to some simple household task until the morrow and whilst I remember—tell Philigor to put him on the payroll at ninepence a day. Thank you.”
As Awad led me away, I asked: “What is Her Ladyship’s art?”
“This year, ’tis painting.”
“What was it whilom?”
“Last year, ’twas making ornamental feather sprays; the year before that, playing the cithern. Next year ’twill be something else, I’ll wager.”
During the next few days, I learnt that Madam Roska was a very talented and energetic woman. She could never, however, adhere to any one course long enough to follow it to its outcome. She could change her mind and her plans oftener than anyone I have known, even among these fickle Prime Planers. Remembering Jimmon’s words, I wondered how so light-minded a person had not only kept but even augmented the estate she had inherited. I suppose that, beneath her superficial volatility, she hid a core of hard-headed shrewdness, or else that she had had a run of astounding luck.
On the other hand, she was always poised, polite, and gracious, even to the meanest of those she commanded. When she had driven them frantic by her sudden changes of plan, and they muttered and growled against her in their quarters, someone was sure to defend her by saying: “After all, she is a lady.”
These gatherings of the twenty-odd servants were frequent, since Roska rode her help with a light rein. They were also hotbeds of gossip. I learnt among other things that half the unattached men of the upper classes in Ir City were suitors for Roska’s hand—or at least for the Blixens fortune. Plenty of attached ones, for that matter, would have been glad to shed the wives they had and replace them by Roska. The servants had a pool on who would succeed, but there was no sign yet that any bettor would soon collect the pot.
###
Between us, Roska and I reconstructed Maldivius’ entire spell. We were ready to embark upon this magical work when she said: “Ah, no, darling Zdim; I am suddenly terrified of what I might see. Here, take my place. Canst scry?”
“I know not, madam, never having tried it.”
“Well, try it now. Begin with the prayer to Zevatas.”
“I endeavor to give satisfaction,” I said and settled myself in her chair. I recited the prayer, but without feeling, since the gods of Ning are not those of Novaria. I sniffed the fumes and spake the Mulvanian cantrip:
Jyū zormē barh tigai tyūvu . . .
Sure enough, the flickering lights in the Sapphire began to take form. First came a cloudy confusion of scenes: bits of sky and cloud, land and sea, all mixed up and shifting. One instant, I seemed to be looking down upon the earth from a height, as if I were a bird; the next, it was as if I lay on a meadow, looking out between blades of grass. Then I seemed to be sunken in the sea, where dim, finny forms moved in and out of the blue distance. After a while I learnt to control these effects, so that my viewpoint became fixed.
“What shall I look for?” I said. Speaking while in such a trance is like trying to talk with one’s head wrapped in a blanket.
“The menace that Maldivius said threatens Ir,” she said.
“I heard of this menace, but Maldivius did not reveal its nature.”
“Think, now. Was it that some neighboring nation plans mischief?”
“I heard of no such thing. Are any of these neighbors at enmity with Ir?”
“We are at peace with all, said peace being no uneasier than usual. Tonio of Xylar is unfriendly, being leagued with Govannian against our ally
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