cord about Derwe Coremeâs waist. She resisted with fervor, and was only subdued by a blow and a curse. âThis is to prevent any sudden leaps or excursions,â the Busiaco told Cugel with a sly wink. âI am not too fleet of foot and when I wish the woman I do not care to pursue her here and there. But are you not in haste? The sun declines, and after dark the leucomorphs appear.â
âWell then, which of the trails leads to the southern verge?â Cugel asked in a frank manner.
âCross the clearing and I will so inform you. Of course, if you distrust my instructions, you may make your own choice. But remember, I have vigorously exerted myself for a waspish, gaunt and anaemic woman. As of now we are at quits.â
Cugel looked dubiously across the clearing, then to Derwe Coreme who watched in sick dismay. Cugel spoke cheerfully. âWell, all seems to be for the best. The Mountains of Magnatz are notoriously dangerous. You are at least secure with this uncouth rogue.â
âNo!â she screamed. âLet me free of this rope! He is a cheat; you have been duped! Cugel the Clever? Cugel the Fool!â
âSuch language is vulgar,â stated Cugel. âThe Busiaco and I struck a bargain, which is to say, a sacred covenant, which must be discharged.â
âKill the brute!â cried Derwe Coreme. âEmploy your sword! The edge of the forest cannot be far away!â
âAn incorrect trail might lead into the heart of the Great Erm,â argued Cugel. He raised his arm in farewell. âFar better to drudge for this hirsute ruffian than risk death in the Mountains of Magnatz!â
The Busiaco grinned in agreement, gave the line a proprietary jerk. Cugel hurried across the clearing with Derwe Coremeâs imprecations ringing in his ears, until she was silenced by some means Cugel did not observe. The Busiaco called, âBy chance you are approaching the correct path. Follow and you shall presently come to an inhabited place.â
Cugel returned a final salute, set forth. Derwe Coreme gave a scream of hysterical mirth: âCugel the Clever he calls himself! What an extravagant joke!â
Cugel proceeded quickly along the trail, somewhat troubled. âThe woman is a monomaniac!â he told himself. âShe lacks clarity and perceptiveness; how could I have done else, for her welfare and my own? I am rationality personified; it is unthinking to insist otherwise!â
Scarcely a hundred paces from the clearing the trail emerged from the forest. Cugel stopped short. Only a hundred paces? He pursed his lips. By some curious coincidence three other trails likewise left the forest nearby, all converging to one near where he stood. âInteresting,â said Cugel. âIt is almost tempting to return, to seek out the Busiaco and exact some sort of explanation â¦â
He fingered his sword thoughtfully, and even took a step or two back toward the forest. But the sun was low and shadows filled the gaps between the gnarled trunks. As Cugel hesitated, Firx impatiently drew several of his prongs and barbs across Cugelâs liver, and Cugel abandoned the project of returning into the forest.
The trail led across a region of open land, with mountains riding across the southern sky. Cugel strode along at a smart pace, conscious of the dark shadow of the forest behind, and not completely settled in his mind. From time to time, at some particularly unsettling thought, he slapped his thigh sharply. But what folly! He had obviously managed affairs to their optimum! The Busiaco was gross and stupid; how could it have hoped to trick him? The concept was untenable. As for Derwe Coreme, no doubt she would soon come to terms with her new life â¦
As the sun dropped behind the Mountains of Magnatz he came upon a rude settlement and a tavern beside the crossroads. This was a staunch structure of stone and timber, with round windows each formed of a
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