The Ultimate Stonemage: A Modest Autobiography by Duncan McKenzie Page B

man himself. He was perhaps in his fortieth year, with a large, open face, and intelligent eyes. During the meal, I showed him my plans for the Grief , and he was overwhelmed by its loveliness, saying it was the most beautiful plan for a sculpture he had ever seen. When I explained this was to be no sculpture, but was a mighty tower, he was astounded beyond belief.
    “But I fear,” he said, “that we have no need for such a tower. Our town is adequately protected.”
    “You hear tower and you think warfare,” I said. “Yet this need not be a mere fortification. The tower’s interior is divided into a multitude of rooms, and these might serve very nicely as dwellings, or even as small shops. Thus, this statue will replace the damaged section of your town.”
    On hearing this, Eon Vulpine was overcome with joy, saying: “Then indeed, this must be built! It must! It must!” He drooled, and he clapped his hands together uncontrollably, so much was he enthralled by the prospect of this magnificent edifice becoming a part of his town.
    Then he asked me why the king had a little tail sticking out of his mouth. I explained to him this building served not only to shelter and to beautify, but also to warn all who might behold it of the dangers of themouse.
    “What dangers?” said he.
    I then explained the dangers to him as I have already told it here. He was much alarmed to hear this news, for he, being ignorant of the threat, had given a gift of two caged mice to his children some months earlier.
    “If you will take my advice, sir,” I said, “you will kill the creatures without delay, for not to do so will certainly bring about the untimely deaths of your own dear infants.”
    This he promptly did, and he later told me he would be forever grateful to me for saving his children from so terrible a death. So, you see, even before it was built, my Grief was already fulfilling its worthy mission, although Vulpine’s gratitude brought me precious little reward, as you will see.
    We met many times over the following month and discussed every aspect of the building. Vulpine’s excitement was hardly diminished since his first glimpse of the plans. And his pleasure was greatly increased when he asked me what it might cost to create such a wonder.
    “For my last commission,” I told him, “I received gold and gifts totalling more than one thousand three hundred arrans. Though the nature of that task was very much simpler than this one, yet I would be willing to work for the same sum, provided I might be given assistants to help me with the more rudimentary elements of the construction, together with a quantity of slaves to carry stones.”
    “One thousand three hundred arrans!” he exclaimed. “Come, sir! I may be no stonemage, but I know enough of architecture to know such a price would greatly undervalue the genius of your design alone. To ask such a pittance for both the design and the construction is absurd. No, I will insist you ask no less than five thousand arrans for this commission. In addition, I will see to it you are given builders of the highest skill to work under you.”
    I was well pleased by these terms, for I had indeed set my price very low in my enthusiasm to win the commission. I was pleased also by this fellow’s recognition of the importance of my work. Nevertheless, I remained constantly mindful of my vision, and I watched Vulpine carefully for any sign of trickery or false dealing.
    A few days later, I had picked out several builders who would help me with the job. Vulpine approved my choice, assuring me of their considerable talents and urging me to begin work without delay. But then he said a very curious thing. He said: “And if the citizens of this town are outraged that our time-honoured customs have been broken, let us care nothing for it, for we would do a far greater wrong by jeopardizing the construction of so worthy an artwork.”
    These words disturbed me, for we folk of theCyprus Horn