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skirmish, and the sole casualty was Haxt, who suffered a wound in the heel. But a
more serious affair occurred two hours later. As they passed below a slope a
boulder became
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The Eyes of the Overworld
dislodged, to roll, through the caravan, killing a pack-beast, as well as Andle the
Funambulous Evangel and Roremaund the Skeptic. During the night Haxt died
also, evidently poisoned by the weapon which had wounded him.
With grave faces the pilgrims set forth, and almost at once were attacked from
ambush by the bandits. Luckily the pilgrims were alert, and the bandits were
routed with a dozen dead, while the pilgrims lost only Cray and Magasthen.
Now there was grumbling and long looks turned eastward toward Erze Damath.
Garstang rallied the flagging spirits: "We are Gilfigites; Gilfig spoke! On the
shores of the Songan Sea we will seek the sacred fane! Gilfig is all-wise and all-
merciful; those who fall in his service are instantly transported to paradaisical
Gamameret Pilgrims! To the westl"
Taking heart, the caravan once more set forth, and the day passed without further
incident. During the night, however, three of the pack-beasts slipped their tethers
and decamped, and Garstang was forced to announce short rations for all.
During the seventh day's march, Thilfox ate a handful of poison berries and died
in spasms, whereupon his brother Vitz, the locutor, went raving mad and ran up
the line of pack-beasts, blaspheming Gilfig and slashing water bladders with his
knife, until Cugel finally killed him.
Two days later the haggard band came upon a spring. In spite of Garstang's
warning, Sayanave and Arlo flung themselves down and drank in great gulps.
Almost at once they clutched their bellies, gagged and choked, their lips the color
of sand, and presently they were dead.
A week later fifteen men and four beasts came over the rise to look out across the
placid waters of the Songan Sea. Cugel had survived,'as well as Garstang,
Casmyre and Subucule. Before them lay a marsh, fed by a small stream. Cugel
tested the water with that amulet bestowed upon him by lucounu, and
pronounced it safe. All drank to repletion, ate reeds converted to a nutritious if
insipid substance by the same amulet, then slept.
Cugel, aroused by a sense of peril, jumped up, to note a sinister stir among the
reeds. He roused his fellows,
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The Eyes of the Overworld
and all readied their weapons; but whatever had caused the motion took alarm
and retired. The time was middle afternoon; the pilgrims walked down to the
bleak shore to take stock of the situation. They looked north and south but found
no trace of the fane. Tempers flared; there was a quarrel which Garstang was able
to quell only by dint of the utmost persuasiveness.
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Then Balch, who had wandered up the beach, returned in great excitement: "A
village!"
All set forth in hope and eagerness, but the village, when the pilgrims
approached, proved a poor thing indeed, a huddle of reed huts inhabited by lizard
people who bared their teeth and lashed sinewy blue tails in defiance. The
pilgrims moved off down the beach and sat on hummocks watching the low surf
of the Songan Sea.
Garstang, frail and bent with the privations he had suffered, was the first to
speak. He attempted to infuse his voice with cheer. "We have arrived, we have
triumphed over the terrible Silver Desert! Now we need only locate the fane and
perform our devotions; we may then return to Erze Damath and a future of
assured bliss!"
"All very well," grumbled Balch, "but where may the fane be found? To right and
left is the same bleak beach!"
"We must put our trust in the guidance of Gilfig!" declared Subucule. He
scratched an arrow upon a bit of wood, and touched it with his holy ribbon. He
called, "Gilfig, O Gilfig! Guide us to the fane! I hereby toss high a marked
pointerl" And he flung the chip high into the air. When it alighted, the arrow
pointed south. "South we must fare!" cried Garstand. "South to the fane!"
But Balch and certain others refused to respond. "Do you not see that we are
fatigued to the point of death? In my opinion Gilfig should have guided our steps
to the fane, instead of abandoning us to uncertainty!"
"Gilfig has guided us indeed!" responded Subucule. "Did you not notice the
direction of the arrow?"
Balch gave a croak of sardonic laughter. "Any stick thrown high must come down,
and it will point south as easily as north,"
Subucule drew back in horror. "You blaspheme Gilfigl"
"Not at all; I am not sure that Gilfig heard your instruction, or perhaps you gave
him insufficient time to
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react. Toss up the stick one hundred times; if it points south on each occasion, I
will march south in haste."
"Very well," said Subucule. He once again called upon Gilfig and threw up the
chip, but when it struck the ground the arrow pointed north.
Balch said nothing- Subucule blinked, then grew red in the face. "Gilfig has no
time for games. He directed us once, and deemed it sufficient."
"I am unconvinced," said Balch,
"And I."
"And I."
Garstang held up his arms imploringly. "We have come far; we have toiled
together, rejoiced together, fought and suffered together- let us not now fall in
dissidence!"
Balch and the others only shrugged. "We will not plunge blindly south."
"What will you do, then? Go north? Or return to Erze Damath?"
"Erze Damath? Without food and only four pack-beasts? Bah!"
"Then let us fare south in search of the fane."
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Balch gave another mulish shrug, at which Subucule became angry. "So be it!
Those who fare south to this side, those who cast in with Balch to that!"
Garstang, Cugel and Casmyre joined Subucule; the others stayed with Balch, a
group numbering eleven, and now they fell to whispering among themselves,
while the four faithful pilgrims watched in apprehension.
The eleven jumped to their feet. "Farewell."
"Where do you go?" asked Garstang.
"No matter. Seek your fane if you must; we go about our own affairs." With the
briefest of farewells they marched to the village of the lizard folk, where they
slaughtered the males, filed the teeth of the females, dressed them in garments of
reeds, and installed themselves as lords of the village.
Garstang, Subucule, Casmyre and Cugel meanwhile traveled south along the
shore. At nightfall they pitched camp and dined upon molluscs and crabs. In the
morning they found that the four remaining pack-beasts had departed, and now
they were alone.
"It is the will of Gilfig," said Subucule. "We need only find the fane and diel"
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The Eyes of the Overworld
"Courage!" muttered Garstang. "Let us not give way to despair!"
"What else is left? Will we ever see Pholgus Valley again?"
"Who knows? Let us first perform our devotions at the fane."
With that they proceeded, and marched the remainder of the day. By nightfall
they were too tired to do more than slump to the sand of the beach.
The sea spread before them, flat as a table, so calm that the setting sun cast only
its exact image rather than a trail. Clams and crabs once more provided a meager
supper, after which they composed themselves to sleep on the beach.
Somewhat after the first hours of night Cugel was awakened by a sound of music.
Starting up, he looked across the water to find that a ghostly city had come into
existence. Slender towers reared into the sky, lit by glittering motes of white light
which drifted slowly up and down, back and forth. On the promenades sauntered
the gayest of crowds, wearing pale luminous garments and blowing horns of
delicate sound. A barge piled with silken cushions, moved by an enormous sail of
cornflower silk, drifted past Lamps at the bow and stern-post illuminated a deck
thronged with merrymakers: some singing and playing lutes, others drinking
from goblets.
Cugel ached to share their joy. He struggled to his knees, and called out. The
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