The Ultimate Stonemage: A Modest Autobiography (28 page)

I knew at once this was exactly the instrument I had been looking for, and I purchased it on the spot, even though it was expensive. I also received a number of wooden cylinders with pegs attached. The woman who sold me the instrument showed me how the top of the box could be opened up and the cylinder within replaced by one of these others. Once this was done, the rare-bellows would play a different tune, for it was the placing of the pegs upon the cylinder that determined the melody. The cylinders she gave me played
Ein’s Lament
,
The Pack of Wolves
,
Trickle down the Fountain
,
Poultry Boys
and
The Weaver’s Angry Slave
. All these are American songs, of course, but they are good melodies nonetheless.

“And if you wish,” she said, “you can pull the pegs from the cylinders and place them in different holes, thereby creating your own tunes.”

I found later this claim might be true in theory, but the process was so difficult I would have been better off simply learning all the finger positions required for the viol or the guitar!

There was also a kind of pipe attached to the front of the instrument which could be played with one hand in time to the music. I experimented with this for a while, but soon found that this pipe was just as badly designed as every two-handed pipe, and, besides, the rest of the instrument sounded very beautiful even without the accompaniment. Therefore, I removed the appendage and threw it away, plugging up the hole with a cork.

Later the same week, I placed food and water into a pack, together with a map of the region I had copied, and I walked off into the wilderness, pushing my rare-bellows ahead of me.

I travelled east for a day or so, following the road which led, so my map told me, to the town of
Eight Trees, which lies upon the river, and is close to a number of small lakes.

With so much water about, this appeared to be ideal territory for the Pulsiter, so I wandered around the riverbanks and lake shores for five days playing my rare-bellows. I tried each of the cylinders in the instrument, but no animals came near me, and I came to the conclusion that the Pulsiter must be elsewhere.

I moved on then, following the river to the south and into a region of swamps. I wandered the swamps for a couple of days, keeping to the dry patches and playing my instrument. I also smiled at any unusual looking trees I came across, just in case one of them was the Pulsiter in disguise. My efforts were entirely unsuccessful in locating the creature, although I did come across several ancient buildings. I searched them, too, but there were no treasures within, just decaying timbers and a small crocodile which looked as if it had been dead for some time.

I continued my wanderings for weeks, still concentrating on the areas closest to lakes or rivers or streams. I played my rare-bellows with a will (I was becoming a very talented musician by this point) but still my mysterious quarry did not appear. Then I began to regret I had so rashly given myself only six weeks to find the beast, because the region was large, and there were numerous places I would have liked to examine more thoroughly.

I searched for as long as I could, but the time trotted away, and I had still seen no sign of the Pulsiter. Regretfully, I turned around once more, heading back towards
Saskatoon.

Of the original six weeks, only three days now remained, and it would take me that long to make the journey to the city gates. I imagined I was beaten, and I hung my head very low.

Now, I had been walking along the road for a little over a day, my eyes fixed upon the ground in my dejection and woe, when I observed a curious thing. Upon the earth at the side of the road I saw the footprints of a small animal—a cat or a fox. The footprints went only for a short way, however, before they disappeared. A little further on, I saw the footprints had changed to those of a bird. Then they vanished again, and later still they changed back to the footprints of the small animal again and headed away from the road.

The meaning of these footprints was obvious to me, as I am sure it is to you. Clearly, these were the tracks of the Pulsiter, travelling, perhaps, as a fox for a time, then transforming into a bird, and flying over the sand for a short distance, then landing upon the ground, and walking with its bird’s feet, then flying a little further, and then finally changing back into a fox.

I immediately knelt down and gave thanks to God for leading me, in my despair, to the trail of my quarry. I said to God, “Now, let me capture the animal, and I will ensure the great cathedral I have been planning is the next thing I build, and it will be built right here in this very place.”

I heard a voice speaking to me then, in tones that seemed faint and faraway, yet also deep and powerful. The voice, which I knew to be that of God, said, “No, build me five cathedrals.”

I responded, “Five is a great many. Will you take three?”

For three, you see, is the number of the Holy Trinity, and it seemed a good number to me.

God did not reply, and I took this to mean He approved of this number, so we settled upon three, and I immediately left the road and went off in the direction of the tracks, in pursuit of the Pulsiter.

After a time trudging over through the bush, I saw a body of water ahead. I crept forward, examining the ground and plants around to see if they were hiding some small creature which might be the Pulsiter in disguise. But I need not have checked so closely, for this noble beast has no need to be timid. As I came around from behind a clump of trees, I gasped, for there I saw a cow. It was just standing by the water, eating the grass.

The cow was of the black-and-white kind—the sort you might often see in a farmer’s fields. But I was far from any farm. The cow looked up at me, then continued with its eating, feigning innocence.

I looked carefully at the ground around its feet and saw, just as I had suspected, that there were not so many hoofprints as there should have been if the cow had been there for a long time. Also, I saw numerous bird tracks, and the footprints of other animals, although it was clear none of these animals were present. There could be only one explanation for all this: I was face to face with the Pulsiter!

I knew I must go very carefully, for the Pulsiter can be a dangerous foe, especially if it decides to transform into a lion or a mud dragon. I approached cautiously, and when I was just a few yards from its tail, I started to play the rare-bellows, marching back and forth and doing my best to push the wheel through the mud and long grass.

The Pulsiter tried to ignore my alluring tune, and it pretended it was just an ordinary cow eating grass, but I could see the tip of its tail twitching in time to the music, and I knew it was falling under my spell. When I had played for a few minutes, I walked around to stand in front of the animal. It raised its head, and, even though it was in a trance from my music, I immediately saw the great intelligence and wisdom in the creature’s eyes, signifying more plainly than ever that this was no ordinary cow, but the one true Pulsiter.

I turned away then, pushing my rare-bellows ahead of me and hoping the Pulsiter would follow. However, it did not follow. It was in such an ecstatic blur from my music that it could do no more than stand and chew.

I said to it, “Come along, do not just stop there, for I have enchanted you and you are compelled to follow my tune.” So saying, I broke off a branch from one of the bushes, and I whipped it against the creature’s rump, which brought the Pulsiter out of its dazed rumination. Then I pushed the rare-bellows off once more, and we went off. I pumped at the bellows with one hand, and whipped at the Pulsiter with the other. In this manner, I led the creature out of the wilderness towards the
Imperial City.

When we finally arrived at the city gates, I was exhausted. I had not slept in two days, for I had needed to keep the Pulsiter entertained with music day and night during the long walk. My efforts were well rewarded, however, for the creature made no attempt to transform into some other animal and escape.

My good friend
Bitian Teppel was waiting for me outside the gates, and he supported me at the elbow, keeping me from falling as we went past the guards. Naturally, I had no sooner entered the city, than a great crowd began to gather, for word of my quest had spread. How they cheered to see I had brought the Pulsiter back to the Imperial City once again, although there were three men present who were not cheering at the sight, and I think you can guess who they were.

We moved quickly then, and placed the Pulsiter in its old enclosure, together with a trough of water and a sheaf of long grass cut fresh in the city’s gardens. In spite of my fatigue, I turned to the great crowd waiting there, and I told them the story of my great search for the Pulsiter, and of the miraculous events which had finally led me to it.

No sooner had I finished my story, though, than the three courtiers came forward. They were angry at my success. One of them said, “How do we know that this is truly the Pulsiter, and not just a cow?”

The crowd hissed at them for this, but I raised my hands to quieten the assembly. I said, “No, it is a fair question. Listen, then, I have stopped playing my music now. I invite any one of you three brave courtiers to enter the enclosure and touch the Pulsiter. If, as you suspect, it is nothing more than a cow, you will certainly have nothing to fear, for a common cow cannot change to a bear and tear you limb from limb.”

Of course, they declined my offer, for they knew very well that this animal was the true Pulsiter. They were clever, though, and they said, “We have no doubt in our own minds that this is the Pulsiter, and therefore we do not choose to enter the enclosure. Nevertheless, we also represent the emperor, and for his sake we desire more certain proof.”

“As you wish,” I said. Then I knocked on the glass of the enclosure and called to the Pulsiter, saying, “Pulsiter, change your form! Become an eagle, so everyone may see your magic!”

The Pulsiter, though, was angry at being imprisoned, and, being of a vindictive and churlish disposition, it refused to change its form.

Then the three courtiers cried out, “See! It is not the real Pulsiter!”

Things might have turned against me then, but, as luck would have it, an old woman stepped out of the crowd to make a case for me.

She said, “You cannot ask the Pulsiter to change its form at your whim. It is a noble creature, and, like our own emperor, it does not take commands from any man.”

Then she said, “When I was a young girl, my father was appointed with the care of the Pulsiter, and on several occasions I was allowed close to it, for it liked me. Let me in there now. I will soon tell you if that is the real Pulsiter.”

We carefully opened the door to the enclosure and let the brave woman in. She walked up to the powerful creature, took its head in her arms, and looked into its eyes. She gazed at it for a long time, and we were all very tense and excited as we waited to hear what she would say. At last, we saw her smile, and she smoothed the creature’s head. Then we let her out of the enclosure to pronounce her verdict. She said, “There is no doubt in my mind. This, indeed, is the one true Pulsiter.”

Everybody cheered then, both at my bravery in capturing the creature, and at hers in proving its identity to the world.

As for the three courtiers, they handed over their golden combs on the spot, although they did so in very poor grace, and one of them simply threw his comb at my feet, which the crowd did not care for. Since it was unlawful for me to wear the combs in my hair, I fixed them to my belt, wearing them like a tally of the courtiers I had bested.

A few days later, two of the men left
Saskatoon, and they did not return. The third remained there, but was obliged to find work as a common scribe in order to pay his bills.

An Eighth Section Of The Eleventh Part

In Which I Describe My Meeting With The Emperor And The Things That Came Of It

I spent several days recuperating
from my trying journey, and during this time many of my friends called upon me to give me their congratulations and tell me the latest news. Of course, the whole town was talking about my remarkable catch, and there was a constant crowd around the enclosure for many weeks. In fact, I heard that the emperor himself, with all his myrmidons and courtiers around him, had stepped outside the palace to see the Pulsiter the day after it was captured. I was sorry I had missed the spectacle—for I had slept right through that day—but it made me proud to think my efforts had brought me such fame.

My friends also told me the
emperor had heard the story surrounding the capture and found it fascinating. They said it was likely he would invite me to come before him, so I might tell the tale in my own words, for he was astonished by the bravery, cleverness and selflessness I had shown in securing the Pulsiter for his city. It goes without saying that this was a very exciting prospect for me, and I spent a good many hours thinking about how I would present the story to him.

The invitation came a few days later, and a group of four big myrmidons and two Imperial Attendants escorted me as I went to see him. When I came across the emperor, he was in one of his private gardens, shooting arrows at a carcass. I was a little nervous, but I need not have been, because he was the most agreeable man you can imagine. He did not wear jewelled robes, but just a simple brown tunic and a wide leather hat. He was so powerful, you see, he did not need to make a show of it.

I walked across the garden with his myrmidons around me, and no sooner had he set eyes on me than he said, “Ah, Yreth! I have heard so much about you. Will you join me in setting off a few arrows?”

His tone was so friendly and relaxed that I did not know whether to bow or to take his hand. In the end I did both, first making a deep and respectful bow, then taking his hand, then giving him a close hug for good measure.

I took up a bow and we took turns shooting arrows at the target. I scored nine hits and twelve misses, while he scored sixteen hits and five misses, so you can see he was an excellent marksman. Even so, he was very kind about it and said I had a good eye myself.

I said, “You are very generous with your words, but I fear this is not really my weapon.”

He said, with great interest, “Oh? What do you favour, then?”

I said I liked the throwing-razor, for it was good for fighting in close as well as far away. I showed him my own weapon then, the new silver one, and he admired it, saying he used to have a similar blade himself.

“However,” he said, “you could not use this little blade against a target as far away as that goat carcass.”

I was indignant at this, and I said, “Indeed I could! In fact, I will warrant I could hit it even if it were another thirty feet further on.”

He found this incredible, but I assured him I could do it.

He said, “Very well, let me see.” And he instructed the slaves to remove the arrows from the carcass and to pull it back another thirty feet. Then he said, “Take your shot.”

I said, “First, let us see how your arrows perform at this range.”

The emperor agreed to this, and he fired a single arrow, which struck the carcass near to the leg. Then I took my shot. Of course, over such a range, I knew I could not throw in the normal manner, for it is impossible to calculate the tumbles, and even if the weapon finds its mark, it is as likely to hit with the handle as with the point. So instead I took a run up and threw the blade barbarian-style, which is a much more difficult throw, for it involves holding the blade facing out, keeping the wrist straight, and using the elbow to impart the twist. This way, the tumbles are much fewer, and therefore easier to guess at over a long distance.

I took careful aim and threw the blade as hard as I was able, but even so, it seemed to miss the carcass by a hair, striking the ground. This brought a chuckle from the courtiers who stood around.

However, when I went to retrieve my blade, I called out, “Here, you emperor, look at this!”

For, you see, his arrow, which had seemed to strike the leg of the carcass, had actually flown cleanly between the legs, striking the ground just behind. Moreover, when I took a close look at my blade I saw that it had pierced the skin of the carcass before entering the ground. My throw, therefore, was a hit. Not a good hit, perhaps, but certainly a better hit than his.

When the emperor took a look at the carcass, he was very much amused, and slapped me on the back. Then he turned to his courtiers and said, “You see! You laughed at this man’s throw, but now you can see he is the kind of fellow who will have the laugh on you in the end. In fact, I declare that he is a bubble.”

And they all said, “A bubble? What is the meaning of that? He is not round and does not fly.”

To which he replied, “No, but he must be a bubble nevertheless, for he
always rises to the top!”

Well, we all gave a great roar of laughter when we heard this, for it was a wonderfully funny joke.

I laughed louder and longer than all the others there, and I shouted out, “Oh! A bubble! That is a splendid joke! A bubble! Oh, my!” until my sides and belly were sore from the effort of it, for I knew the joke contained a profound truth to it, and it made the humour even richer and more enjoyable for me.

The emperor took great pleasure in my laughter and said, “I see you are a bubble in another way, too, for you are light in your heart!” which tickled me even more, so I could hardly control my mirth.

At last he said, “But enough of this merriment. Let us take dinner now. Yreth, would you care to join us, and tell us your tale of hunting the Pulsiter.”

I said, “I would be honoured. However, I will come only on the condition that you restrain your ceaseless flow of exceedingly funny comments, emperor, for otherwise I fear I shall choke upon my food.”

He was very well pleased by my answer, and agreed he would try to be on his best behaviour. We all made our way then to a great dining hall with walls of gold, and there I partook of a superb array of fruits and meats, while telling my story of the Pulsiter, as I have already told it here.

I made a good job of the tale, I think, because the emperor attended to my every word, stopping me only to clarify certain points, such as “Did you say a
dead
crocodile?” and ask certain intelligent questions, such as, “How did you know that the crocodile was not in fact the Pulsiter?”

Actually, he seemed to take uncommon interest in the matter of the dead crocodile I had found, and he briefly interrupted my story to tell me of a time when he had gone hunting and had tried to shoot a great crocodile with his arrows, but the creature’s skin was so tough it turned them all.

I quickly brought the conversation back to the subject at hand, however, and continued with my tale. I ended it by saying, “All of this was done by my hand, of course, but my hand was guided by another, greater hand, this being the hand of God. Therefore, I intend to keep the promise I made to Him to return to that wilderness and to build three great cathedrals, using my skills as a stonemage, which surpass even my skills as a hunter. You may be certain, then, that once I can find some great person who is willing to be a patron to this project, these wonderful structures will be built.”

I said no more than this, for I felt it was best to be very soft and subtle in my dealings with the emperor. Such great men, you see, do not like to feel they are at the service of others. That is why I did not say, “if you, emperor, will be patron to the project,” but instead said, “if I can find some great person,” as if to imply that any great person would do, and that I did not presume upon his generosity to take that role. There are stonemages today who could learn much from my tact and discretion.

It was still light after we had finished eating, and the emperor asked me if I wished to join him in shooting off some more arrows.

I said yes, so we went back into the garden, and we sent off a good many shafts, this time into a pig carcass.

He said, “Is this not excellent good fun?”

I said, “There can be no doubt of it. I have heard it said that archery is the king of sports, but now I know the truth, and I see it is the emperor of sports, and is, moreover, the sport of emperors.”

He said, “You and I are agreed on that point! I spend, I should say, two hours each day upon this graceful art, and I take a great delight in every moment.”

I found out after this that he was being modest, for one of his courtiers, and one who was in a good position to know, said he spent closer to five hours a day with the bow in his hands, practising in the various private gardens within the palace walls.

After a time, I said to the emperor, “I tire a little of shooting at this pig. Let us change targets. What do you say to a moving goat.”

He said, “How is that? A live animal, do you mean?”

I said, “No no, a goat carcass, like before, but with a slave in armour beneath it, carrying it around him like a cloak. Have you never encountered this method?”

He said he never had.

I said, “Well, then, you must certainly try it, for it is a far more diverting sport than any fixed carcass.”

The emperor was willing, so I took one of his slaves, a short one, and had the other slaves fetch a good mail coat for him to wear, in case the arrows should go through the meat. We got the goat carcass and placed it over the little slave, then I told him to walk back and forth, not too fast, while we shot our arrows.

When the emperor tried shooting at this target, and saw how well it worked, he was delighted beyond measure, and with every hit he gave a loud exclamation of pleasure, saying, “Ho! I caught you there!” and “I have you now, you strange, vertical goat.”

We had a long contest then, which went late into the night, until we were playing by torchlight. My shots were much improved over my earlier efforts, for a moving target quickens my pulse and makes my aim truer, but I let the emperor win in the final tally.

When it was time for me to go, I thanked the emperor for his kindness, and he said, on the contrary, he would long remember the entertainment I had given him.

Then, as I left, I pulled my clothes straight, and as I did so I pretended to make a fumble, letting fall a piece of paper I had been carrying. This paper contained a drawing of the cathedral I planned to build, the one in the shape of a pointing hand. As I picked it up from the ground, I shook the paper a little—not in an obvious way, but just very slightly—so the paper unfolded and revealed the drawing.

The emperor said, “Well, what is this?”

I said, “Oh, it is nothing, merely a sketch of the great cathedral I mentioned.”

He said to a slave, “Bring me that light.” Then he took a closer look and said, “No, it is a hand.”

I said, just as I had said to the Imperial Aunt, “Forgive me, but it is a cathedral, although it is in the shape of a hand pointing up to heaven. See, I have drawn a little fellow walking by down here at the bottom. You can see, then, how large the structure will be.”

He looked at the little man I had drawn and whistled with amazement. Then he said, “Will you make me a gift of this drawing? I wish to look at it further on my own, and to think upon it.”

I said, in a carefree way, “If you want it, it is yours to do as you will with,” although, in fact, as you will probably guess, I had drawn this copy with the sole intention of giving it to the emperor.

At last, I left, knowing I had made a good impression upon the emperor, and confident he would ask me to built these cathedrals.

A week or so later, I was invited to see the emperor again. He was in his court this time, surrounded, as usual, by his white-robed courtiers, and also by a number of visitors—kings, lords and high officials from his dominions across America.

He talked to these visitors for a time before he noticed me there, but when he did see me he was very pleased and pointed me out to the other powerful persons present, saying, “This is my excellent friend Yreth.”

You may think I exaggerate when I say “excellent friend,” but those were precisely the words he used, although, for myself, I could hardly believe it when I heard them coming from his lips.

Then he said, “He has shown me a fine new way of practising my archery upon a moving target, and I owe him a great debt because of it. What do you say, Yreth?”

I said, “Emperor, I do not know what to say, for I am at a loss for words when I hear your high praise. Moreover, even if I did know what words I might properly speak now, I fear I would still remain mute, for my tongue is paralyzed with joy when I hear you hold me, your humble servant, in such favourable regard.”

They all clapped their hands at my words, and the emperor said it was very nobly spoken.

“But now to the matter at hand,” he said. “This same good Yreth is also a stonemage of great skill and ability, therefore I have decided to reward him for his services to me by giving to him a great commission, and one which is very close to my heart, for I intend to have him increase the height of my
luma
, so it will be twice as tall as it was.”

All the nobles there clapped again, and all eyes were upon me to see how I would take this news. I did my best to smile and bow, of course, but my heart was not in it, for I had my ambitions set upon my cathedral, and I did not even know what his
luma
was yet.

I think the emperor read my thoughts, for he said, “Does this commission not please you, Yreth?”

I considered this for a moment, then I said, “Emperor, you may be certain that any favour you bestow upon me is received with a degree of gratitude and ecstasy lying at the utmost limits of human capability. Moreover, I am supremely honoured that you would grant to me the enviable task of increasing the height of so important a structure as a
luma
. I must confess, though, amidst my rejoicing, there is a dark shadow over my heart.”