long until we can arrive at Coble?”
“Before long one vessel or another will depart Lanteen down-river. We will take passage aboard.”
“What of the fare? Can you pay?”
“Certainly! I salvaged all my jewels, which command considerable value.” And Zamp struck the pocket of his jacket, only to find it flat. He sat up in his chair. “I have been robbed! How did it occur?” He jerked around and gazed toward the door. “When Viliweg jostled me, he made a set of confusing gestures. The jewels are now gone!”
“What of the silver plaque?”
Zamp touched an inner pocket. “It is safe.”
“Let me see it.”
Zamp brought forth the glittering tablet. Damsel Blanche-Aster took it into her hand and gave a grateful sigh. “It is the same.”
Zamp retrieved the tablet and restored it to his pocket. “It is also my last resource. I must use it to pay for our bed and board.”
Damsel Blanche-Aster shook her head. “I will pay the innkeeper. I will also secure our passage to Coble.”
Zamp looked at her in surprise. “I had no idea that you carried so much iron!”
Damsel Blanche-Aster ignored the remark. “We can now arrange matters on a business-like footing. I can expedite our journey to Coble, but I insist that you exclude me from your erotic fantasies.”
“Bah,” grunted Zamp. “What if I choose to throw the plaque in the river?”
“I could not prevent you.”
“You could dissuade me.”
Damsel Blanche-Aster made no reply. Zamp brought forth the plaque and held it in his hand, hefting it thoughtfully. Damsel Blanche-Aster rose to her feet and went into the tavern, presumably to her bed in ‘River Vista’.
Zamp clenched his teeth and looked up at the sky. He replaced the plaque in his pocket and sat alone in the darkness.
Within, the sounds of revelry waxed and waned. Viliweg came reeling through the door and went to stand by the rail. Zamp, approaching quietly, seized the magician about the legs and hurled him over the rail, down into the slime of the mud-flats.
Zamp went moodily to ‘River Vista’. A lamp burnt low on the table. Damsel Blanche-Aster lay under her cloak in a corner of the room, her sleek blonde head pillowed on the embroidered jacket.
Zamp knew that she was not asleep. He said gruffly: “You may share the mattress without agonizing over the priceless sanctity of your body, which after all is much like any other. At this moment it means no more to me than the table.”
Chapter VII
Coble, situated where the main channel of the Vissel entered Surmise Bay, was a town of tall steep-gabled buildings of timber and black brick, netted by a hundred canals, shaded by a thousand lordly halcositic dendrons, along with innumerable lantans, palms and plume willows. The business of Coble centered on the Burse, a small square overlooked by crooked old buildings, the windows tinted purple and green with age. A hundred yards east flowed the Vissel River, and here at Bynum’s Dock was moored the Universal Pancomium , a floating museum owned by Throdorus Gassoon. The Universal Pancomium had never been reckoned a beautiful vessel, being somewhat spare and gaunt of outline, with a stern paddle-wheel powered by eighteen bullocks at three capstans, in addition to the sails which Gassoon used only under optimum conditions.
Gassoon was as spare, gaunt and graceless as his boat. His face was long and pale, his eyes were pale, small and close beside his long equine nose; his hair was an unruly shock of white tufts. He habitually wore a tight and threadbare suit of black twill with black stockings and black shoes, in unkind contrast to his pale skin and white hair. His arms and legs were lank; he walked at a lope; halting, he tended to throw his long face back like a neighing horse.
Gassoon had few friends; he devoted all his time, love and attention to the curios, relicts and oddities of his collection. Travelers from afar marveled at the Universal Pancomium ; never had they seen the match of
“Before long one vessel or another will depart Lanteen down-river. We will take passage aboard.”
“What of the fare? Can you pay?”
“Certainly! I salvaged all my jewels, which command considerable value.” And Zamp struck the pocket of his jacket, only to find it flat. He sat up in his chair. “I have been robbed! How did it occur?” He jerked around and gazed toward the door. “When Viliweg jostled me, he made a set of confusing gestures. The jewels are now gone!”
“What of the silver plaque?”
Zamp touched an inner pocket. “It is safe.”
“Let me see it.”
Zamp brought forth the glittering tablet. Damsel Blanche-Aster took it into her hand and gave a grateful sigh. “It is the same.”
Zamp retrieved the tablet and restored it to his pocket. “It is also my last resource. I must use it to pay for our bed and board.”
Damsel Blanche-Aster shook her head. “I will pay the innkeeper. I will also secure our passage to Coble.”
Zamp looked at her in surprise. “I had no idea that you carried so much iron!”
Damsel Blanche-Aster ignored the remark. “We can now arrange matters on a business-like footing. I can expedite our journey to Coble, but I insist that you exclude me from your erotic fantasies.”
“Bah,” grunted Zamp. “What if I choose to throw the plaque in the river?”
“I could not prevent you.”
“You could dissuade me.”
Damsel Blanche-Aster made no reply. Zamp brought forth the plaque and held it in his hand, hefting it thoughtfully. Damsel Blanche-Aster rose to her feet and went into the tavern, presumably to her bed in ‘River Vista’.
Zamp clenched his teeth and looked up at the sky. He replaced the plaque in his pocket and sat alone in the darkness.
Within, the sounds of revelry waxed and waned. Viliweg came reeling through the door and went to stand by the rail. Zamp, approaching quietly, seized the magician about the legs and hurled him over the rail, down into the slime of the mud-flats.
Zamp went moodily to ‘River Vista’. A lamp burnt low on the table. Damsel Blanche-Aster lay under her cloak in a corner of the room, her sleek blonde head pillowed on the embroidered jacket.
Zamp knew that she was not asleep. He said gruffly: “You may share the mattress without agonizing over the priceless sanctity of your body, which after all is much like any other. At this moment it means no more to me than the table.”
Chapter VII
Coble, situated where the main channel of the Vissel entered Surmise Bay, was a town of tall steep-gabled buildings of timber and black brick, netted by a hundred canals, shaded by a thousand lordly halcositic dendrons, along with innumerable lantans, palms and plume willows. The business of Coble centered on the Burse, a small square overlooked by crooked old buildings, the windows tinted purple and green with age. A hundred yards east flowed the Vissel River, and here at Bynum’s Dock was moored the Universal Pancomium , a floating museum owned by Throdorus Gassoon. The Universal Pancomium had never been reckoned a beautiful vessel, being somewhat spare and gaunt of outline, with a stern paddle-wheel powered by eighteen bullocks at three capstans, in addition to the sails which Gassoon used only under optimum conditions.
Gassoon was as spare, gaunt and graceless as his boat. His face was long and pale, his eyes were pale, small and close beside his long equine nose; his hair was an unruly shock of white tufts. He habitually wore a tight and threadbare suit of black twill with black stockings and black shoes, in unkind contrast to his pale skin and white hair. His arms and legs were lank; he walked at a lope; halting, he tended to throw his long face back like a neighing horse.
Gassoon had few friends; he devoted all his time, love and attention to the curios, relicts and oddities of his collection. Travelers from afar marveled at the Universal Pancomium ; never had they seen the match of
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