The Best of L Sprague De Camp Part 32

A pace behind, stooping to disguise his stature, slouched a rouged and powdered Jillo in woman's dress. If Jillo was a homely man, he made a hideous woman, least as far as his face could be seen under the headcloth. Nor was his beauty enhanced by the dress, which Eudoric had st.i.tched together out of cheap cloth. The garment looked like what it was: the work of a rank amateur at dressmaking.

"My master begs you to enter," said the gatekeeper.

"Why, dear old Baldonius!" cried Raspiudus, rubbing his hands together. "Ye've not changed a mite since those glad, mad days at Saalingen! Do ye still string verses?"

"Ye've withstood the ravages of time well yourself, Raspiudus," said Eudoric, in an imitation of Baldonius' voice. "'As fly the years, the geese fly north in spring; Ah, would the years, like geese, return awing!"

Raspiudus roared with laughter, patting his paunch. "The same old Baldonius! Made ye that one up?"

Eudoric made a deprecatory motion. "I am a mere poetaster; but had not the higher wisdom claimed my allegiance, I might have made my mark in poesy."

"What befell your poor eye?"

"My own carelessness in leaving a corner of a pentacle open. The demon got in a swipe of his claws ere I could banish him. But now, good Raspiudus, I have a matter to discuss whereof I told you in my note."

"Yea, yea, time enow for that. Be ye weary from the road? Need ye baths? Aliment? Drink?"

"Not yet, old friend. We have but now come from Velitchovo's best hostelry."

"Then let me show you my house and grounds. Your lady. . .

"She'll stay with me. She speaks nought but Treverian and fears being separated from me among strangers. A mere swineherd's chick, but a faithful creature. At my age, that is of more moment than a pretty face."

Presently, Eudoric was looking at his and Jillo's palfreys and their sumpter mule in Raspiudus' stables. Eudoric made a few hesitant efforts, as if he were Baldonius seeking his young friends, to inquire after their disappearance. Each time Raspiudus smoothly turned the question aside, promising enlightenment later.

An hour later, Raspiudus was showing off his magical sanctum. With obvious interest, Eudoric examined a number of squares of dragon hide spread out on a workbench. He asked: "Be this the integument of one of those Pathenian dragons, whereof I have heard?"

"Certes, good Baldonius. Are they extinct in your part of the world?"

"Aye. 'Twas for that reason that I sent my young friend and former pupil, of whom I'm waiting to tell you, eastward to fetch me some of this hide for use in my work. How does one cure this hide?"

"With salt, and-unhl"

Raspiudus collapsed, Eudoric having just struck him on the head with a short bludgeon that he whisked out of his voluminous sleeves.

"Bind and gag him and roll him behind the bench!" said Eudoric.

"Were it not better to cut his throat, sir?" said Jillo.

"Nay. The jailer told us that they have ingenious ways of punis.h.i.+ng homicide, and I have no wish to prove them b~ experiment."

While Jillo bound the unconscious Raspiudus, Eudoric chose two pieces of dragon hide, each about a yard square. He rolled them together into a bundle and lashed them with a length of rope from inside his robe. As an afterthought, he helped himself to the contents of Raspiudus' purse. Then he hoisted the roll of hide to his shoulder and issued from the laboratory. He called to the nearest stableboy.

"Doctor Raspiudus," he said, "asks that ye saddle up those two nags." He pointed. "Good saddles, mind you! Are the animals well shod?"

"Hasten, sir," muttered Jillo. "Every instant we hang about here-"

"Hold thy peace! The appearance of haste were the surest way to arouse suspicion." Eudoric raised his voice. "Another heave on that girth, fellow! I am not minded to have my aged bones shattered by a tumble into the roadway."

Jillo whispered, "Can't we recover the mule and your armor, to boot?"

Eudoric shook his head. "Too risky," he murmured. "Be glad if we get away with whole skins."

When the horses had been saddled to his satisfaction, he said, "Lend me some of your strength in mounting, youngster." He groaned as he swung awkwardly into the saddle. "A murrain on thy master, to send us off on this footling errand-me that hasn't sat a horse in years! Now hand me that accursed roll of hide. I thank thee, youth; here's a little for thy trouble. Run ahead and tell the gatekeeper to have his portal well opened. I fear that if this beast pulls up of a sudden, I shall go flying over its head!"

A few minutes later, when they had turned a corner and were out of sight of Raspiudus' house, Eudoric said, "Now trot!"

"If I could but get out of this d.a.m.ned gown," muttered Jillo. "I can't ride decently in it."

"Wait till we're out of the city gate."

When Jillo had shed the offending garment, Eudoric said, "Now ride, man, as never before in your life!"

They pounded off on the Liptai road. Looking back, Jillo gave a screech. "There's a thing flying after us! It looks like a giant bat!"

"One of Raspiudus' sendings," said Eudoric. "I knew he'd get loose. Use your spurs! Can we but gain the bridge. . . ."

They fled at a mad gallop. The sending came closer and closer, until Eudoric thought he could feel the wind of its wings.

Then their hooves thundered across the bridge over the Pshora.

"Those things will not cross running water," said Eudoric, looking back. "Slow down, Jillo. These nags must bear us many leagues, and we must not founder them at the start."

so here we are," Eudoric told Doctor Baldonius. "Ye've seen your family, lad?"

"Certes. They thrive, praise to the Divine Pair. WThere's Lusina?"

"Well-ah-ahem-the fact is, she is not here."

"Oh? Then where?"

"Ye put me to shame, Eudoric. I promised you her hand in return for the two yards of dragon hide. Well, ye've fetched me the hide, at no small effort and risk, but I cannot fulfill my side of the bargain."

"Wherefore?"

"Alas! My undutiful daughter ran off with a strolling player last summer, whilst ye were chasing dragons-or perchance 'twas the other way round. I'm right truly sorry. . . ."

Eudoric frowned silently for an instant, then said, "Fret not, esteemed Doctor. I shall recover from the wound-provided, that is, that you salve it by making up my losses in more materialistic fas.h.i.+on."

Baldonius raised bushy gray brows. "So? Ye seem not so griefstricken as I should have expected, to judge from the lover's sighs and tears wherewith ye parted from the jade last spring. Now ye'lI accept money instead?"

"Aye, sir. I admit that my pa.s.sion had somewhat cooled during our long separation. Was it likewise with her? What said she of me?"

"Aye, her sentiments did indeed change. She said you were too much an opportunist altogether to please her. I would not wound your feelings. . . ."

Eudoric waved a deprecatory hand. "Continue, pray. I have been somewhat toughened by my months in the rude, rough world, and I am interested."

"Well, I told her she was being foolish; that ye were a shrewd lad who, an ye survived the dragon hunt, would go far. But her words were: 'That is just the trouble, Father. He is too shrewd to be very lovable."

"Hmph," grunted Eudoric. "As one might say: I am a man of enterprise, thou art an opportunist, he is a conniving scoundrel. 'Tis all in the point of view. Well, if she prefers the fools of this world, I wish her joy of them. As a man of honor, I would have wedded Lusina had she wished. As things stand, trouble is saved all around."

"To you, belike, though I mis...o...b.. my headstrong la.s.s'll find the life of an actor's wife a bed of violets:

'Who'd wed on a whim is soon filled to the brim Of worry and doubt, till he longs for an out.

So if ye would wive, beware of the gyve Of an ill-chosen mate; 'tis a harrowing fate.'

But enough of that. What sum had ye in mind?"

"Enough to cover the cost of my good destrier Morgrim and my panoply of plate, together with lance and sword, plus a few other chattels and incidental expenses of travel. Fifteen hundred marks should cover the lot."

"Fif-teen hundred! Whew! I could ne'er afford-nor are these moldy patches of dragon hide worth a fraction of the sum."

Eudoric sighed and rose. "You know what you can afford, good my sage." He picked up the roll of dragon hide. "Your colleague Doctor Calporio, wizard to the Count of Treveria, expressed a keen interest in this material. In fact, he offered me more than I have asked of you, but I thought it only honorable to give you the first chance."

"What!" cried Baldonius. "That mountebank, charlatan, that faker? Misusing the hide and not deriving a tenth of the magical benefits from it that I should? Sit down, Eudoric; we will discuss these things."

An hour's haggling got Eudoric his fifteen hundred marks. Baldonius said, "Well, praise the Divine Couple that's over. And now, beloved pupil, what are your plans?"

"Would ye believe it, Doctor Baldonius," said Jillo, "that my poor, deluded master is about to disgrace his lineage and betray his cla.s.s by a base commercial enterprise?"

"Forsooth, Jillo? What's this?"

"He means my proposed coach line," said Eudoric.

"Good Heaven, what's that?"

"My plan to run a carriage on a weekly schedule from Zurgau to Kromnitch, taking all who can pay the fare, as they do in Pathenia. We can't let the heathen Easterlings get ahead of us."

"What an extraordinary idea! Need ye a partner?"

"Thanks, but nay. Baron Emmerhard has already thrown in with me. He's promised me my knighthood in exchange for the partners.h.i.+p."

"There is no n.o.bility anymore," said Jillo.

Eudoric grinned. "Emmerhard said much the same sort of thing, but I convinced him that anything to do with horses is a proper pursuit for a gentleman. Jillo, you can spell me at driving the coach, which will make you a gentleman, too!"

Jillo sighed. "Alas! The true spirit of knighthood is dying in this degenerate age. Woe is me that I should live to see the end of chivairy! How much did ye think of paying me, sir?"

"THE LITTLE GREEN MEN".

Ah, little green fellows from Venus Or some other planet afar: From Mars or Calypso or, maybe, A world of an alien star!

According to bestselling authors-. Blavatsky to von Daniken- They taught us the skills that were needed To make super-apes into men.

They guided our faltering footsteps From savagery into the dawns Of burgeoning civilization With cities and writing and bronze.

By them were the Pyramids builded; They reared the first temples in Hind; Drew lines at Peruvian Nazca To uplift the poor Amerind.

With all of these wonders they gave us It's sad these divine astronauts Revealed not the answers to questions That foil our most rational thoughts.

Such puzzles as riches and paupers, The problems of peace and of war, Relations between the two s.e.xes, Or crime and chastis.e.m.e.nt therefor.

So when we feel dim and defeated By problems immune to attack, Let's send out a prayer electronic: "0 little green fellows, come back!"

AUTHOR'S AFTERWORD.

WHEN PEOPLE ask me how I came to be a writer, I tell them: I lost my job.

It was in 1938 when I was working in New York as editor on a trade journal. The publisher decided to cut costs by firing the two most junior editors.

I had done some writing. I had been active on my college paper, The California Tech, serving one year as editor. As an employee of the International Correspondence Schools of Scranton, I had coauth.o.r.ed (with the late AIf K. Berle) a textbook on inventions and patents. I was trained as an engineer; but, graduating in the early thirties when the great Depression was on and engineers were being fired everywhere, I had to make do with jobs in technical editing and education.

When I lived in Scranton, my friend and college roommate, Dr. John D. Clark, was job-hunting in New York. He was then a more faithful reader of the science-fiction magazines than I. To keep on eating, John wrote a couple of science-fiction stories, on whose plotting I helped him on weekend visits. He sent them to Astounding Stories (then edited by F. Orlin Tremaine) and, to our delighted surprise, sold them.

So, thought I, if he can, why not I? I wrote a couple and sold them, too. I also started collaborating with P. Schuyler Miller on the novel that eventually became Genus h.o.m.o.

When I made my first sales, I thought: V~Thee! Why hasn't somebody told me about this? It sure beats working! When I got fired from the Fowler-Becker Publis.h.i.+ng Company, I reasoned that if I could make so much money by writing for five hours a week, for fifty hours I could make ten times as much.

There is a fallacy there, since one soon runs into a law of diminis.h.i.+ng returns. But I tried it, found I did about as well financially as I had been doing, and discovered that I preferred to be my own boss. Save for the Second World War and a few temporary jobs, I have been at it ever since.

The first story herein, "Hyperpilosity," is one of those two first stories that I wrote in Scranton. (There was one other, an amateurish little caveman tale eventually published in the short-lived magazine of historical adventure, Golden Fleece.) The next two items were composed after I had moved back to New York. The dates of the others you can get from the copyright page.

John W. Campbell replaced F. Orlin Tremaine as editor of Astounding Stories (soon changed to Astounding Science Fiction) at about the time I broke into that magazine. Campbell taught me much of what I think I know about fiction writing-he, and my longtime collaborator Ifletcher Pratt, and the Bread Loaf Writers Conference in 1941, which I attended as a Fellow.