Shelyid, whose dwarfish stature gave him an even better opportunity to study the pulchritudinous portraits, took no advantage of the fact. Instead, the gnome kept his eyes firmly on the ground ahead, blushing like a schoolgirl. Of course, he could claim as his excuse that he was bent double by the wizard’s sack. His master, on the other hand, scrutinized the murals carefully, and blessed his companions with a running commentary on the Mission of Art, replete with many citations from the ancients, the essential thrust of which was that Paul Gauphin was an arrant alphabetarian, a nugatory neophyte, a coarse catechumen, a posturing parvenu who thought to conceal his blatant ignorance of the classic methods of proportion, line, perspective and portraiture by his extravagant colorism, the which was nothing but a maneuver to dupe his patrons by passing off crudity as primitivism.
His chief complaint, however, was that the nudes were not fat.
” ‘Tis the First Law of Nudistry!” he exclaimed, many more times than once. “Consider, if you will, the classic masters of the past—Rubens Laebmauntsforscynneweëld, to name just one! Did that great soul ever paint the nude portrait of even a single nubile? Nay, fie on such witless notions! Understood he well that the very essence of nudistry is the presentation of human flesh, and thus, it follows as the antithesis from the thesis, that the more copious the expanse of flesh portrayed, the greater the Art!”
Gauphin, oddly enough for a temperamental artist, seemed not at all irritated by this flood of criticism.
“Stuff sells like hotcakes,” he remarked, and said no more.
But at length, Zulkeh’s impromptu lecture on Art came to an end. Gauphin held up a warning hand. They had reached, or so it seemed, the end of the tunnel. Ahead of them was nought but a wall.
“Here’s my secret entrance to Inkman’s bedchamber,” whispered the artist. He pointed out a latch which enabled the wall ahead to be swung aside.
“That’s it for my end of the deal,” he said. “Give me ten seconds to get clear.”
“Thanks for the help,” said Greyboar pleasantly.
Gauphin snorted. “Think I had a choice? I’m not happy about this, let me tell you—it’s probably going to sour my romance with Inkman’s girlfriend.” Then, shrugging: “What the hell, falling out of favor with a lady beats falling out of favor with Les Six. What’s that old saying? ‘Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned’? Ha! Try pissing off Les Six some time, if you really want a toasty taste of the underworld! Anyway, I’m gone. If you make it out of there alive, be sure to tell the half-dozen homeboys from hell that I satisfied my end of the bargain.”
He disappeared in a flash.
Zulkeh made to unlatch the wall, but Greyboar gently pulled him aside.
“Why don’t you let me handle this part? I’m rather good at breaking and entering.”
“Of course, of course,” agreed the wizard.
Greyboar unlatched the wall and slowly swung it aside. He peered into the room beyond.
“The coast is clear,” he whispered. “Nobody’s in the room. But keep it quiet—I can hear the guards in the room beyond.”
All four members of the party crept into the room. They inspected the furnishings carefully.
“Quite a love nest this guy’s got,” remarked Ignace, pursing his lips.
Shelyid’s face wrinkled in confusion.
“Master,” he asked, “why are there all those handcuffs and chains all over the bed? Seems like it’d be uncomfortable, especially those spiked leather collars. I mean, you know, if you rolled over—”
The wizard stilled his apprentice with a gesture. ” ‘Tis not the time for a lecture, dwarf.” He cleared his throat. Cleared his throat again. “An aspect of your education, this, which I have neglected. At some future date, possibly, when you are older. Perhaps a glance at Kraft-Ebbing Laebmauntsforcynneweëld’s monographs, or certain of the diaries of De Sade Sfondrati-Piccolomini—expurgated, of course! But not now, my loyal but stupid apprentice.”
“Well, if you say so, master,” agreed Shelyid uncertainly. “But it all seems kind of peculiar. I mean, all these whips all over the floor, you could trip on them in the dark and hurt yourself. And—”