Free Lyonesse II - The Green Pear and Madouc by Jack Vance Page B

exemplary. I took the pearl only as a public service and I gave it up willingly to one less fortunate in his birth than myself.”
    Dhrun said: “Here, evidently, you refer to the dog, since we have no knowledge of the robber’s lineage.”
    Glyneth spoke severely: “Your treatment of the dog was truly rather heartless! You should have brought the pearl to Shimrod.”
    “So that he might feed it to me in a sausage?” demanded Shimrod. “I prefer it otherwise.”
    “Poor Shimrod!” murmured Aillas. “Foaming at the mouth, running down the road at full speed, halting only to bite passersby!”
    Glyneth said with dignity: “Shimrod could properly dispose of the thing, whatever its nature. The dog lacks this competence.”
    “I now understand my mistake,” said Tristano. “When this dog came to snap at my horse’s heels, I admit that I lacked kindly feeling for the beast. I therefore acted on an impulse which almost instantly I regretted, and more when I saw the disreputable quality of the beast.”
    “I do not quite understand,” said Glyneth. “You almost instantly regretted your cruelty?”
    “Well, not altogether. Remember that I indemnified the dog with a sausage for his risk.”
    “Why, then?”
    Tristano gave a fastidious flutter of the fingers. “Since you press me, I will explain, and as delicately as possible. On the previous midnight the pearl was returned to me in an uncanny fashion. As I considered the dead dog, I thought at first to depart at full speed and to leave the dog behind. Then I began to ponder on the night ahead: specifically, on the hour of midnight while I lay asleep. At this time the pearl would have progressed well on its way along the dog’s digestive tract-”
    Glyneth clapped her hands over her ears. “That is enough. Already you have told me more than I want to hear.”
    “The subject would seem to lack any further interest,” said Aillas.
    “Just so,” said Tristano. “I only wanted to excite Glyneth’s compassion for the travail to which I was subjected.”
    “You have done so,” said Glyneth.
    There was a moment of quiet, and Glyneth looked up the table to Aillas. “Tonight you are quiet! What troubles you? Affairs of state?”
    Aillas looked off across the dark water. “Miraldra seems a thousand miles away. I wish that I need never go back.”
    “Perhaps you take too much responsibility upon yourself.”
    “With my counselors and ministers all older men, watching to catch me out in mistakes, I have no choice except to go carefully. There is a chaos in South Ulfland which I must organize, and perhaps come to grips with the Ska, unless they mend their ways. And all the while, even as we sit here, Casmir hatches new plots.”
    “Then why not work plots upon Casmir, until he desists?”
    “If only it were so easy! Clever plots are Casmir’s specialty; I can never beat him at intrigue. His spies are everywhere; they would know my clever plots before I know them myself!”
    Dhrun made a sound of outrage. “Can we not identify the spies and drown them all in the Lir?”
    “Nothing is ever simple. Naturally, I want to identify them, but thereafter I prefer to make their life easy and befuddle them with false information. If I drowned them all, Casmir would merely send over a group of strangers. So I make do with the lot I have and try not to cause them anxiety.”
    “This ‘befuddling’ seems a clever plot in itself,” said Glyneth. “Is it effective?”
    “I will know better after I identify the spies.”
    Glyneth asked: “Certainly our own spies keep watch on Casmir?”
    “Not as carefully as he watches us. Still, we are not utterly overmatched.”
    “In some ways, it seems an interesting business,” said Glyneth. “I wonder if I would do well as a spy.”
    “Beyond a doubt,” said Aillas. “Beautiful girls make excellent spies! Still, they must be dedicated to their work, and take the good with the bad, since the choicest items are usually told to