"Oh yes, master!" cried Shelyid.
"Nevertheless," continued Zulkeh, "it is apparent, from the standpoint of the higher reason, that St. Quinine's contribution to the study of gravity is nought but a diversion. Even so, infinitely more sublime was Quinine's thinking to that of his historical successor, whose advent was but another symptom of the sad decline of science in the modern world.
"For know, Shelyid, that the most significant figure following Quinine to treat of this question—significant not, as I shall in a moment expose, for his contribution, but for the vulgar popularity which it has received among the plebeians—was Oldgram. Sir Oldgram, for such was he titled in the barbarous land whence he originated, invented what he pompously called the Law of Gravity, thereby arrogating to himself, before his time and without reason, an honor which is properly mine. This law, or rather, 'law' so-called (for it is nothing of the sort), states the following impudent proposition: to wit, that objects attract each other in direct proportion to their mass and in inverse proportion to their distance.
"This imbecility has long since swept the modern world, and it grieves me to relate that the Law of Gravity is today considered synonymous with the name of Oldgram. Yet so far from representing an advance of science, much less the formulation of an actual Law (most sublime of Theses), this outrage to all reason has rather dragged the level of scientific thought far below the stage earlier attained by Disquo, even in ancient times.
"For look you, gnome, what is the purpose of science?" demanded the wizard.
"I d-don't know, master," stammered Shelyid.
"An excellent response," spoke the wizard, patting the dwarf's head. "For it is only mete that a lowly apprentice should first learn science, then the higher truth of which it is the expression, and only at the last its purpose. But I will open up a small portion of this secret to your understanding."
Here Zulkeh struck a solemn pose. "The purpose of science, Shelyid, is to answer the question Why? Is this clear?"
"Oh yes, master!" cried Shelyid, pleased to be asked the normal question.
"With this understood, it is immediately apparent that Oldgram's proposition is sheer effrontery. Does Oldgram explain why objects rest where they do? By no means! He merely correlates the relationship of all objects to each other according to some crude ratio evident to the base senses.
"We may thus dismiss Oldgram as an importunate impostor, a parasitic empiricist, a flea upon the body of science. To the question 'why do objects rest where they do?' Disquo had already answered correctly—'because they belong there.' Neither the necessities of Religion nor the jackanapes of Oldgram have advanced the study a single inch beyond. It was left to me, and to me alone, to unravel the riddle. And this I have done according to that mode of subtle reasoning which is my wont and habitude. Is this clear, dwarf?"
"Oh yes, master!" cried Shelyid instantly, for this was a question whose answer he had long since mastered.
"Excellent. To the question 'why do all objects rest where they belong?' or, to phrase it differently: 'why do all objects obey the Law of Gravity?' (properly so named only by myself) I have provided the following astonishing insight—because all objects contain graveness. Yes, Shelyid, graveness, the illusive essence of gravity which has hitherto escaped the ken of all mankind save myself.
"And thus we have it, Shelyid. The Law of Gravity, the true Law of Gravity discovered first—and so far only, I might add—by myself. The Law may be stated as follows: Objects come to rest where they do because all objects contain greater or lesser amounts of graveness and hence gravitate downward to the precise degree determined by the quantity of graveness present within them.
"Immediately we see that this keen postulate not only brings the problem of gravity into full accord with all rational cosmography, but sheds as well a broad beam of light upon the most diverse questions hitherto unanswered. To give just one example, from the field of ethnology: why, Shelyid, is it the custom to bury the dead?"
"I d-don't know, master," stammered the dwarf.
"Of course you don't!" exclaimed the mage. "How could you, without understanding the Law of Gravity? The reason is simple, my stupid but loyal apprentice. The dead are buried because it is only proper that the final end of life, which is a grave undertaking, should be death, which is graver still. And what more fitting place for the dead, therefore, than the grave?
"But with all these mysteries resolved," went on the wizard, "surely your mind has begun to grope at a related but contradictory problem. To wit, the gravitation of objects having been explained, why do certain objects rise?
"The answer to this question, Shelyid—whose discovery is also a monopoly of my genius—is to be found in the explication of the Law of Levity. What is the Law of Levity? The Law of Levity postulates that objects rise in accordance with the—"
At that moment the sorcerer's discourse was suddenly interrupted by a loud knocking on the door of the study.
"Shelyid!" spoke Zulkeh. "Someone is at the door."
"I know, master," muttered Shelyid, his anxious visage peering from behind the cabinet where he had instantly retreated at the sound of knocking.
"Then answer it, dolt!"
"But, master," whined the dwarf, "what if it's a stranger?"
"Bah!" oathed Zulkeh. "Who else would it be, cretin? I command you, open the door!"
"Yes, master," grumbled the runt. Shelyid inched from behind the cabinet and, apprehension writ plain upon his face, slowly approached and opened the door.
Now, the gentle reader is perhaps puzzled by the peculiar attitude evidenced by the misshapen apprentice toward this mundane task of opening a door in response to a knock. But the matter is, in truth, simple of explanation. We have already alluded most delicately to the dwarf's unfortunate nervous condition. By his nature, Shelyid greeted all events not strictly routine as incipient calamities. The attitude, common to the general run of mankind, that the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence, was incomprehensible to Shelyid. In the dwarf's mind, grass was not green to begin with. It was brown and coarse and grew only in rare clumps. Fences were not challenges to an audacious spirit, they were excellent constructs which served the salutary purpose of keeping at bay the monsters with which Shelyid's mind peopled the universe, according to them as well the fixed and unilateral purpose of doing him harm. So, far from finding his own clump of crabgrass inadequate and longing for other pastures, the dwarf found in fences the sole complaint that they were invariably too short, too flimsy, too low and too few.
Yet the gentle reader should not conclude that this outré world view was solely the product of Shelyid's fevered fantasies. Alas, no, the dwarf's weltschmerz was all too well grounded in brute fact. For Shelyid, as we have explained, was cursed not simply with a grotesque nervous condition but with an equally grotesque appearance. All too often had he been mistaken, at first sight, for some strange and loathsome beast—if not a vicious carnivore then at the least some disease-ridden creature escaped from the bowels of the earth, perhaps unnatural, certainly abnormal, a suitable object for curses and blows. More than once, opening the door of their abode to a stranger, had the pitiful gnome been greeted with a gasp and a boot.
Upon this occasion, however, his luck was better.
The door open, Shelyid and his master perceived in the dim entryway a small and wiry man, well dressed and bearing an air of self-importance. This worthy stared at the apprentice for some long moments and then, wrinkling his nose, looked to the wizard.
"Is the sorcerer Zulkeh present?" he inquired.
"I am he," spoke the mage.
"In that case, I have a message to deliver." He reached into his cloak and brought forth a letter, sealed with wax.
"Bring me the letter, Shelyid," spoke Zulkeh. The dwarf took the proffered missive and scurried to his master's side. Zulkeh broke the seal and examined the contents of the letter.
"This is a summons from King Roy, King of Goimr!" he exclaimed.
"Quite so," agreed the stranger. "You are to present yourself at the palace tomorrow morning following the eighth bell. See to it that you are prompt." He turned to go.
"Hold there!" spoke Zulkeh. "What is the King's purpose in summoning me to his side?"
The man inspected the wizard, his apprentice, and their lodgings. "That," he sneered, "is a good question," and strode off.
"Impudent rogue!" oathed the wizard. "King Roy would be well advised to dispense with his services!"
"But what could the King want with us, master?" queried Shelyid.
"As to the specifics of your question," responded Zulkeh, "I know not. But 'tis hardly strange that the King should call for me. Rather the contrary—'tis most apt that the mighty of the earth should flock to my side for counsel and sagacity. That they have never done so is but further proof of the decrepitude of these our modern times. In truth, it is King Roy who should come to me, not I to King Roy. But as I have always been a respecter of temporal authority, we shall answer his summons. And now, Shelyid, to bed."
CHAPTER II.
Journey Through Goimr. A Discourse on the Geography and History of the City. The Palace Doors Swing Wide!
The following morning, Zulkeh and Shelyid set forth to the palace. As the distance to be traveled was great, the wizard determined to engage a hansom, though his meager funds normally precluded such extravagance.
We take here the occasion to educate the gentle reader in the geography and history of Goimr. The realm of Goimr is a small kingdom located on the southeastern coast of the sub-continent of Grotum. The city of Goimr itself is located at the extremity of the Gulf of Goimr, the which extends westward from Grotum Long Bay. To the north and west, the kingdom is surrounded by mountains, with only the Dreary Gap on its northwest frontier offering access to the Grimwald and the other lands of Grotum which lie beyond that noisome forest. To the south, the farmlands of Goimr steadily give way to the Great Southern Steppes, which are more or less considered to begin at a line bounded on the west by Joe's Lakes and on the east by Joe's Dunes. Further still to the south lies the Great Wall of Grotum, an ancient stone palisade erected in the dim mists of the Groutch past by the legendary Emperor of the Grinding Hegemony, as a bulwark protecting Grotum from the incursions of the various nomadic tribes which infest the Great Southern Steppes.
The Great Wall itself, sad to say, is but a pitiable remnant of its ancient glory. Over the eons, the forces of man and nature have taken their grim toll upon the once mighty rampart. In many places along its length large breaches occur, and even at its best the Wall is crumbly and dilapidated. Not for many centuries has it served as an effective barrier to the outrages of the nomadic hordes, the which plunder and pillage the southern portions of Goimria at will. So regular and frequent are these barbarous incursions that the much-ravaged peasantry of the realm commonly refers to the ancient bastion as the Great Hall of Grotum. This practice is, of course, forbidden by royal decree, but as the police of Goimr are hardly more efficient than its army, it continues unchecked nonetheless.
As the hansom made its slow way to the Royal Palace, which was located on an island in the middle of the river which bisected Goimr, Zulkeh took the occasion to educate his apprentice on the historiography involved.
"The existence of this ancient ruler, my stupid but loyal apprentice, is a matter of much controversy among historians. Indeed, the subject has become one of the major arenas of contention between the two great scholarly clans, the Laebmauntsforscynneweëlds and the Sfondrati-Piccolominis."
Here Zulkeh stroked his beard vigorously, as he was wont to do when deep in scholarly exposition. "For millennia, the account of this monarch presented in the classic annals of the ancient Herodotus Laebmauntsforscynneweëld were considered to be, in the main, accurate. Herodotus depicted the Emperor of the Grinding Hegemony as a mighty despot whose power held sway over all of Grotum and other lands bordering on Joe's Sea. So august was this ancient ruler, so near divine in his aspect, that it was considered sacrilege for either himself, his entourage, or even his means of transport, to touch anything but human flesh in his travels about the realm."
Shelyid's eyes widened. Seeing the expression of shock and surprise in his ward's face, the wizard nodded sagely. "Indeed so, dwarf. A most superstitious and barbarous lot, our ancestors. 'Twas even the custom for the Emperor's chariot to be drawn over the prostrate bodies of his subjects, the which laid themselves upon every inch of every road whence his frequent journeys took him."
Zulkeh's brows lowered as he weighed the various aspects of the question in his mind. "From a mathematic viewpoint, of course, the policy was ill-advised. As the Emperor's chariot was an immense vehicle carved from a single block of jade, resting upon two great iron wheels inlaid with gold and gems, and drawn by four buffalo, the practice weighed heavily upon the populace. Hence, according to Herodotus, the derivation of the Emperor's cognomen. Hence also, according to Herodotus, the rapid decline of his empire."
Here, glowering fiercely, Zulkeh's eyes ranged across the dilapidated slums through whose narrow and crooked streets the hansom was passing. "Since that time—as even you can no doubt deduce from our miserable surroundings—the history of Goimr can most politely be described as undistinguished."
"Everybody says it's a dump, master," agreed the apprentice cheerfully. "Most wretched place in Grotum, they say."
"Nonsense!" exclaimed the mage. "Squalid though it be, Goimr is a veritable paradise compared to Kankr." His brow furrowed. "Nor do I recall giving you leave to insult what is, when all is said and done, my chosen place of study and cogitation."
The dwarf's head lowered, acknowledging the deserved reproof. Zulkeh continued:
"The official historical account, perpetuated by the royal family at great expense, has it that Goimr was once the seat of a great empire ruling all of Grotum, which was brought to an end by the unfortunate pile-up of silt at the mouth of the Moyle. This interpretation leans heavily on the aforementioned legend of the Emperor of the Grinding Hegemony, and is considered utterly preposterous by the entire population. But we must leave off this fascinating but perhaps not pressing matter. For I see we have arrived at the ferry which will convey us to King Roy's island."
* * *
Eventually, Zulkeh and Shelyid arrived at the palace door, upon which the wizard rapped imperiously with his staff.
"Who's there?" queried a voice within.
"It is the wizard Zulkeh, come in response to King Roy's summons."
Moments later the door creaked open. A slovenly individual in the livery of the Royal Guard peered forth, then stood aside.
"You may enter. Go that way," he muttered, pointing down a long corridor to their right with one hand as he scratched his stomach with the other. Zulkeh attempted to solicit more precise directions, but the guard ignored him and slouched into a rickety chair.
Grumbling at the discourtesy, Zulkeh strode forth down the hallway. Ere long, however, his humor improved as he regarded the multitude of portraits which hung along both sides of the hall, the which depicted the long line of the royalty of Goimr.
"Respect for one's ancestors, Shelyid, is a sure sign of good breeding," spoke the wizard as he inspected the portraits. "Pity 'tis in this regard that you have no known ancestry to respect." The dwarf hung his head in shame. "On the other hand, given your malformities, 'tis perhaps as well that your provenance remains unknown."
At the end of the hall stood two guards before another door. These wights were as unprepossessing as the first. Informing them of his name and the nature of his visit, Zulkeh and Shelyid obtained admittance to the room beyond. In this antechamber, bare of all furnishings, they were joined shortly by a man of easy grace, yclept Gerard, who pronounced himself Chief Counselor to the Throne.
"Ah, Zulkeh," said this latter. He regarded the wizard and his apprentice for some long moments, not, or so it seemed, with any great pleasure. "You are here at the behest of King Roy, who bade me search the city fo
r a sorcerer to aid him in his current melancholia. You were the only one I could find. I will tell you straight out, sirrah, that I view the King's hope in your assistance with considerable skepticism."
"Such is the folly of men," spoke the wizard, stiffly erect.
"Indeed," sniffed Gerard. "Well, be that as it may. The King has made his wishes clear. The matter stands thus. King Roy has had a dream, a most terrible dream, or so it seems, and certain of my colleagues"—here he gestured vaguely toward a small body of men who appeared in the entry beyond—"took it upon themselves to alarm His Majesty and to intimate that this dream bodes ill for the realm. I, of course, have no truck with these fantasies, for it is plain to the man of reason that dreams are nothing but dreams, and thus—I am frank with you, sirrah—it seems misguided to raise such commotion about a paltry matter. You are here thus against my advice, but we must make the best of it. In this respect, I am certain that you, as a man of science, will see the matter in the same light as do I, and thus aid me to assuage King Roy's fears and dispel the fog of misgiving which currently clouds his brain."
"Indeed, sirrah," spoke the wizard, "being, as you so rightly put it, a man of science, I am forced to hold precisely the opposite opinion, if so pallid a term as 'opinion' can be used to describe the crystalline certainty of my views."
"What?" demanded the courtier. "Do I understand you to believe in dreams?"
"Certainly not. You mistake my meaning. I do not believe in dreams, but in Reason, which resides in dreams, however obfuscated and difficult to interpret. You grasp, of course, the distinction?"
Zulkeh squinted at the courtier and awaited acknowledgment. He, in turn, squinted back. Once again Gerard examined the eccentric raiment of the sorcerer and the oddities of his apprentice.