Marune Alastor 933

"The Lissolet Maerio."

"Correct. She was only a trifle more cordial, though, mind you, I'm making no complaints. Then there was the Kang Destian, who was sardonic and surly, and yourself, who behaved with elegant formality. You were the first Rhunes I'd met, and when I found you to be of royal blood, I thought my efforts and ozols well spent.

"So we sat and drank the wine and listened to the music. More accurately, I drank wine. You and the Lissolet Maerio, thoroughly daring, sipped behind your etiquette screens. The other two declared themselves uninterested. The girls watched the students and marveled at the crassness and sebalism. I fell in love with the Lissolet Sthelany, who of course was oblivious. I used all my charm; she studied me with fascinated revulsion and presently she and Destian returned to the hotel.

"You and the Lissolet Maerio remained until Destian came back with orders that Maerio return to the hotel. You and I were left alone. I was due at the Three Lanterns; you walked up Jibberee Hill with me. I went to work; and you returned to the hotel: that's all there is to it."

Efraim heaved a deep sigh. "You did not accompany me to the hotel?"

"No. You went off by yourself, in a most unsettled mood. If I may make bold to ask - why are you so concerned about this evening?"

Efraim saw no reason to hold back the truth. "On that evening I lost my memory.

I remember arriving at Carfaunge, on Bruse-Tansel, and I finally made my way to Numenes and the Co

Lorcas gave a soft ejaculation, and sat back, his eyes glistening, "Do you know, I envy you. How lucky you are, with the mystery of your own past to solve!"

"I lack all such enthusiasm," said Efraim. "The past looms over me; I feel stifled. My enemies know me; I can only grope for them. I go out to Scharrode blind and helpless."

"The situation is not without compensations," murmured Lorcas. "Most people would gladly rule a Mountain Realm, or any realm whatever. Not a few would be pleased to inhabit the same castle with the Lissolet Sthelany."

"These compensations are all very well, but they do not expose my enemy."

"Assuming that the enemy exists."

"He exists. He put me aboard the Berenicia and paid my fare to Bruse-Tansel."

"Bruse-Tansel is not close. Your enemy would seem not to lack funds."

Efraim grunted. "Who knows how much money of my own I carried? Perhaps I paid my own fare out to the limit of my pocketbook."

"This would be a fine sardonic touch," Lorcas agreed. "If true, your enemy has style."

"Another possibility exists," mused Efraim. "I may be looking at the matter backwards."

"An interesting thought. In what exact regard?"

"Perhaps I committed some horrid deed which I could not bear to contemplate, thus inducing amnesia, and some person - my friend rather than my enemy - sent me away from Marune so that I might escape the penalty for my acts."

Lorcas uttered an incredulous laugh. "Yom conduct in my presence was quite genteel."

"So how then, immediately after parting from you, did I lose my memory?"

Lorcas considered a moment. "This might not be so mysterious after all."

"The savants on Numenes were baffled. But you have gained an insight, into my problems?"

Lorcas gri

"Come along, let's visit this man."

Efraim dubiously arose. "Is it safe? You might be the guilty person. I don't want to end up on Bruse-Tansel a second time."

Lorcas chuckled. "You are a Rhine no longer. The Rhunes lack all humor; their lives are so strange that the absurd seems merely another phase of normality. I am not your secret enemy, I assure you. In the first place I lack the two or three hundred ozols to send you to Bruse-Tansel."

Efraim followed Lorcas out upon the avenue. Lorcas said: "We are bound for a rather peculiar establishment. The proprietor is an eccentric. Unkind folk consider him disreputable. At the moment he is out of vogue, owing to the efforts of the Benkenists, who are currently all the rage around the college.

They affect a stoic imperturbability to everything except their i

"No."

"The Mountain Realms. The genealogies; the waxing and waning of fortunes, the poetry and declamations, the ceremonial fumes, the gallantries and romantic postures, the eruditions, and scholarship. Do you realize that Rhune monographs circulate throughout the Cluster and the Gaean Reach as well? Do you realize that sport is unknown among the Realms? There are neither games nor frivolous recreations, not even among the children?"

"The thought never occurred to me. Where are we going?"

"Yonder, up the Street of the Clever Flea... Naturally you would not know how the street got its name." As they walked, Lorcas recounted the ribald legend.

Efraim listened with only half an ear. They turned the corner into a street of marginal enterprises: a booth selling fried clams, a gambling arcade, a cabaret decorated with red and green lights, a bordello, a novelty shop, a travel agency, a store which displayed in the show window a stylized Tree of Life, the golden fruit labeled in a flowing unreadable script. Here Lorcas paused. "Let me do the talking, unless Skogel asks you a direct question. He has a queer ma

From the dimness at the back of the shop Skogel appeared: a man of medium stature, thin as a post with long arms and a round waxen face, above which rose spikes of dust-brown hair. "Pleasant modes," said Lorcas. "Have you collected yet from our friend Boodles?"

"Nothing. But I expected nothing and dealt with him accordingly."

"How so?"

"You know his requirements. He received only tincture of cacodyl in water, which may or may not have served his purposes."

"He made no complaints to me, though in truth he has seemed somewhat subdued of late."

"If he chooses, he may come to me for consolation. And who is this gentleman?

Something about him seems Rhune, something else says out-world."

"You are right in both directions. He is a Rhune who has spent an appreciable time on Numenes, and Bruse-Tansel as well. You instantly wonder why. The answer is simple - he has lost his memory. I told him that if anyone could help him it would be you."

"Bah. I don't stock memories in boxes, neatly labeled like so many cathartics.

He'll have to contrive his own memories. Isn't this easy enough?"

Lorcas looked at Efraim with an expression of rueful amusement. "Contrary fellow that he is, he wants his own memories back."

"He won't find them here. Where did he lose them? That's the place to look."

"An enemy stole his memory and put him on a ship to Bruse-Tansel. My friend is anxious to punish this thief, hence his set chin and gleaming eyes."