Jack Vance - Elder Isles 2 - The Green Pearl

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his interest and paid over Visbhume s price.

Among the objects in the box were fragments of an old manuscript.

When news of the transaction came by chance to the ears of the witch

Desmei, she wondered if the fragments might not fill out the gaps in a

manuscript which she had long been trying to restore. Without delay she

took herself to Tamurello's manse Paroli in the Forest of Tantrevalles, and

there applied for permission to inspect the fragments.

With all courtesy Tamurello displayed the fragments. "Are these the

missing pieces?"

Desmei looked through the fragments. "They are indeed!"

"In that case they are now yours," said Tamurello. "Accept them with my

compliments."

"I will do so most gratefully!" said Desmei. As she packed the fragments

into a portfolio, she studied Tamurello from the comer of her eye. She said:

"It is somewhat odd that we have not met before."

Tamurello smilingly agreed. "The world is long and wide. New

experiences await us always, for the most part to our pleasure." He inclined

his head with unmistakable gallantry toward his guest.

"Nicely spoken, Tamurello!" said Desmei. "Truly, you are most

gracious!"

"Only when circumstances warrant. Will you take refreshment? Here is

a soft wine pressed from the Alhadra grape."

another.

Tamurello became ever more unresponsive. Desmei sat long hours with

him, analyzing their relationship in all its phases, while Tamurello drank

wine and looked moodily off through the trees.

Neither sighs nor sentiment, Desmei discovered, affected Tamurello.

She learned that he was equally proof against cajolery, while reproaches

seemed only to bore him. At last, in a facetious manner, Desmei spoke of a

former lover who had caused her pain and hinted of the misfortunes which

thereafter had dogged his life. Finally she saw that she had captured

Tamurello's attention, and veered to more cheerful topics.

Tamurello let prudence guide his conduct, and once again Desmei had

no complaints.

After a hectic month Tamurello found that he could no longer maintain

his glassy-eyed zest. Once again he began to avoid Desmei, but now that

she understood the forces which guided his conduct, she brought him

smartly to heel.

Desperate at last, Tamurello invoked a spell of ennui upon Desmei: an

influence so quiet, gradual and unobtrusive that she never noticed its

coming. She grew weary of the world, its sordid vanities, futile ambitions

and pointless pleasures, but so strong was her disposition that she never

thought to suspect a change in herself. From Tamurello's point of view, the

spell was a success.

For a period Desmei moved in gloomy contemplation through the windy

halls of her palace on the beach near Ys, then at last decided to abandon

the world to its own melancholy devices. She made herself ready for death,

and from her terrace watched the sun set for the last time.

calculation, for her thinking had become vague and eerie. She surely felt

betrayal and rancor, and no doubt a measure of spite, and seemed also

urged by forces of sheer creativity. In any event she produced a pair of

superlative objects, which perhaps she hoped might be accepted as the

projection of her own ideal self, and that the beauty of these objects and

their symbolism might be impinged upon Tamurello.

In the light of further circumstances* her success in this regard was

flawed, and the triumph, if the word could so be used, went rather to

Tamurello.

*The details are chronicled in LYONESSE 1: Suldrun's Garden.

In achieving her aims, Desmei used a variety of stuff: salt from the sea,

soil from the summit of Mount Khambaste in Ethiopia, exudations and

pastes, as well as elements of her personal substance. So she created a

pair of wonderful beings: exemplars of all the graces and beauties. The

woman was Melancthe; the man was Faude Carfilhiot.

Still all was not done. As the two stood naked and mindless in the

workroom, the dross remaining in the vat yielded a rank green vapor. After

a startled breath, Melancthe shrank back and spat the taste from her

mouth. Carfilhiot, however, found the reek to his liking and inhaled it with all

avidity.

Some years later, the castle Tintzin Fyral fell to the armies of Troicinet.

Carfilhiot was captured and hanged from a grotesquely high gibbet, in order

to send an unmistakably significant image toward both Tamurello at Faroli

to the east and to King Casmir of Lyonesse, to the south.

In due course Carfilhiot's corpse was lowered to the ground, placed on a

pyre, and burned to the music of bagpipes and flutes. In the midst of the

rejoicing the flames gave off a gout of foul green vapor, which, caught by

Elsewhere harbours, good or bad were infrequent, and often no more than

coves enclosed by the hook of a headland.

Twenty miles south of Oaldes, a line of crags entered the ocean and

with the help of a stone breakwater, gave shelter to several dozen fishing

boats. Around the harbour huddled the village Mynault: a clutch of narrow

stone houses, two taverns and a marketplace.

In one of the houses lived the fisherman Sarles, a man black-haired and

stocky, with heavy hips and a small round paunch. His face, which was

round, pale and moony, showed, a constant frown of puzzlement, as if he

found life and logic always at odds.

The bloom of Sarles' youth was gone forever, but Sarles had little to

show for his years of more or less diligent toil. Sarles blamed bad luck,

although if his spouse Liba were to be believed, indolence was by far the

larger factor.

Sarles kept his boat the Preval drawn up on the shingle directly in front

of his house, which made for convenience. He had inherited the Preval

from his father, and the craft was now old and worn, with every seam

leaking and every joint working. Sarles well knew the deficiencies of the

Preval and sailed it out upon the sea only when the weather was fine.

Liba, like Sarles, was somewhat portly. Though older than Sarles, she

commanded far more energy and often asked him: "Why are you not out

fishing today, like the other men?"

Sarles' reply might be: "The wind is sure to pipe up later this afternoon;

the dead-eyes on the port shrouds simply cannot take so much strain.'

"Then why not replace the dead-eyes? You have nothing better to do."

"Woman, enough! Would you deny me my single relaxation?"

"Indeed I would! Everyone else is out on the water while you sit in the

sun catching flies. Your cousin Junt left the harbour before dawn to make

sure of his mackerel! Why did you not do the same?"

"Junt does not suffer miseries of the back as I do," muttered Sarles.

"Also he sails the Lirlou, which is a fine new boat."

"It is the fisherman who catches fish, not the boat. Junt brings in six

times the catch you do."

"Only because his son Tamas fishes beside him."

"Which means that each out-fishes you three times over."

Sarles cried out in anger: "Woman, when will you learn to curb your

tongue? I would be off to the tavern this instant had I one coin to rub

against another."

"Why not use the leisure to repair the Prevail" Sarles threw his hands in

the air and went down to the beach where he assessed the deficiences of

his craft. With nothing better to do, he carved a new dead-eye for his

shrouds. Cordage was too dear for his pocket, so he performed a set of

make-shift splices, which strengthened the shrouds but made an unsightly

display.

And so it went. Sarles gave the Preval only what maintenance was

needed to keep it afloat, and sallied out among the reefs and rocks only

when conditions were optimum, which was not often.

without fail or delay, he must make a whole set of tedious repairs, and he

could expect neither leisure nor wine-bibbing until the repairs were done.

To finance the repairs he might even be forced to beg a place aboard the

Lirlou, which again was most tiresome, since it meant that he would be

forced to work Junt's hours.

For the nonce, he shifted the back-stay to one of the stem-cleats, which,

in mild weather such as that of today, would suffice.

Sarles fished for two hours, during which time he caught a single

flounder. When he cleaned the fish, its belly fell open and out rolled a

magnificent green pearl, of a quality far beyond Sarles' experience.

Marvelling at his good fortune, he again threw out his lines but now the

breeze began to freshen, and concerned with the state of his makeshift

back-stay, Sarles hoisted anchor, raised his sail and turned his bow toward

Mynault, and as he sailed he gloated upon the beautiful green pearl, the

very touch of which sent shivers of delight along his nerves.

Once more in the harbour, Sarles beached his boat and set out for

home, only to meet his cousin Junt.

"What?" cried Junt. "Back so soon from your work? It is not yet noon!

What have you caught? A single flounder? Sarles, you will die in penury if

you do not take yourself in hand! Truly you should give the Preval a good

work-over and then fish with zeal, so that you may do something for

yourself and your old age."

Nettled by the criticism, Sarles retorted: "What of you? Why are you not

out in your fine Lirlou? Do you fear a bit of wind?"

"Not at all! I would fish and gladly, wind or no wind, but for caulking and

fresh pitch done to Lirlou's seams."

I wish you good luck, said Sarles and continued along the jetty. The

wind, so he noted, had shifted and now blew from the north.

At the market Sarles sold his flounder for a decent price, then paused to

reflect. He pulled the pearl from his pocket and considered it anew: a

beautiful thing, though the green luster was unusual and even—it must be

admitted—a trifle unsettling.

Sarles grinned a curious mindless grin and tucked the pearl back into

his pocket. He marched across the square to the tavern, where he poured

a good half-pint of wine down his throat. The first called for another, and as

Sarles started on his second half-pint he was accosted by one of his

cronies, a certain Juliam, who asked: "How goes the world? No fishing

today?"

"I am not up to it today, owing to my sore back. Also, Junt decided that

he wished to borrow Preval and I told him 'Go to it; fish all night, if you are

so frantic in your zeal!' So off went Junt in my good old Preval."

"Ah well, that was generous of you!"

"Why not? After all, he is my cousin and blood is thicker than water.''

"True."

Sarles finished his wine and strolled out to the end of the jetty. He

scanned the sea with care but neither to the north, the west, nor the south

could he glimpse the patched yellow sail of the Preval.

He turned away and went back along the jetty. Down on the shingle

other fishermen were beaching their boats. Sarles went down and made

inquiries in regard to Junt. "From the kindness of my heart I let him take out

Lirlou, said a fisherman who had just come up. The first fisherman gave a

raucous laugh. "But he is aboard the Prevail"

"Aha. That is something else again. Sarles, you would be wise to make

repairs."

"Yes, yes," muttered Sarles. "In due course. I can neither walk on water

nor blow gold coins out of my nose."

Sunset came and still Junt failed to return to Mynault harbour. Sarles

finally reported the circumstances to Liba. "Today my back was poorly, and

I could not fish over-long. From motives of generosity I allowed Junt the

use of my boat. He has not yet returned and I fear that he has been blown

off down the coast, or even has wrecked the Preval. I suppose this should

be a lesson for me."

Liba stared. "For you? What of Junt and his family?"

"I am concerned on both counts. That goes without saying. However, I

have not told you yet of my amazing good luck."

"Indeed? Your back is well so that finally you can work? Or you have

lost your taste for wine?"

"Woman, control your tongue or you will feel the weight of my hand! I

am bored with acrid jokes."

"Well then, what is your luck?"

Sarles displayed the pearl. "What do you think of that?"

Liba looked down at the gem. "Hmm. Curious. I have never heard of a

green pearl. Are you sure it is genuine?"

Bah! From now on all will be different.

During the night Sarles was troubled by unsettling dreams. Fates

peered at him through swirls of mist, then spoke gravely aside to each

other. Try as he might he could understand none of the comments. A few of

the faces seemed familiar, but Sarles could put no names to them.

In the morning Junt still had not returned in the Preval. By virtue of

established custom, Sarles therefore became privileged to fish from the fine

new Lirlou. Tamas, Junt's son, wished also to go out aboard the Lirlou but

this Sarles would not allow. "I prefer to fish by myself."

Tamas made a hot protest. "That is not reasonable! I must protect my

family's interests!"

Sarles raised his finger high. "Not so fast! Are you forgetting that I also

have interests? The Lirlou becomes my own until Junt returns me my

Preval safe and sound. If you want to fish, you must make other

arrangements."

Sarles sailed the Lirlou out to the fishing grounds, rejoicing in the

strength of the craft and the convenience of the gear. Today his luck was

unusually good; fish fairly seized at his lines and the baskets in the hold

became filled to the brim, and Sarles sailed back to Mynault congratulating

himself. Tonight he would eat good soup or even a roast fowl.

Two months passed, during which Sarles profited from fine catches,

while nothing seemed to go right for Tamas. One evening Tamas went to

the house of Sarles, hoping to make some sort of adjustment in a situation

which no one in Mynault considered totally fair, though all agreed that

Sarles had acted only within his rights.

my sisters. We have lost everything through no fault of our own. We ask

only that Sarles deal fairly with us, and give us our share."

Liba moved her shoulders in a stony shrug. "It is useless to talk to me. I

can do nothing with him. He is a different man since he brought home his

green pearl." She raised her eyes to the mantel, where the pearl rested in a

saucer.

Tamas went to look at the gem. He took it up and hefted it in his fingers,

then whistled through his teeth. "This is a valuable object! It would buy

another Lirlou! It would make me rich!"

Liba glanced at him in surprise. Was this the voice of Tamas,

everywhere considered the very soul of rectitude? The green pearl seemed

to corrupt with greed and selfishness all those who touched it! She turned

back to her spinning. "Tell me nothing; what I do not know I can not

prevent. I abhor the thing; it gazes at me like an evil eye."

Tamas uttered a queer high-pitched chuckle: so odd that Liba glanced

at him sidelong in surprise.

"Just so!" said Tamas. "It is a time for a righting of wrongs! If Sarles

complains, let him come to me!" With the pearl in his hand, he ran from the

house. Liba sighed and returned to her spinning, with a heavy lump of

apprehension in her chest.

An hour passed with no sound but the sough of the wind in the chimney

and an occasional sputter of the fire. Then came the lurching thud of

Sarles' steps as he staggered home from the tavern. He thrust the door

wide, stood a moment in the opening, his face round as a plate under the

untidy ledges of his black hair. His eyes darted here and there and halted

on the saucer; he went to look and found the saucer empty. He uttered a

cry of anguish. "Where is the pearl, the lovely green pearl?"

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hisinterestandpaidoverVisbhumesprice.Amongtheobjectsintheboxwerefragmentsofanoldmanuscript.WhennewsofthetransactioncamebychancetotheearsofthewitchDesmei,shewonderedifthefragmentsmightnotfilloutthegapsinamanuscriptwhichshehadlongbeentryingtorestore.WithoutdelayshetookherselftoTamurello'smanseParoliin...

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Jack Vance - Elder Isles 2 - The Green Pearl

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