“Thank you, master,” bubbled Shelyid, pleased to have escaped a thrashing.
“But now, Shelyid, attend me closely, and ponder upon my words, each and every one of them. For the concepts which I am about to unfold are wondrous in their construction, impeccable in the geometry of their logic.”
“Yes, master!” The dwarf knitted his brows in preparation for thought.
“We begin with the major premise, to wit, that I am peerless in the art of divination. It is thus in the nature of things that there exists no dream which—all other things equal—I cannot decipher through the application of my powers. Is this clear?”
“Oh yes, master!”
“Good. Let us now move to the minor premise, to wit, the fact that I have, nevertheless, failed in the task of unveiling the meaning of King Roy’s dream. Is this clear?”
“Oh yes, master!”
“The conclusion follows as night from day. All else is not equal. Why have I been unable to discern the secret? Clearly, because I have been prevented from doing so.”
“But by whom, master?”
“Yes! Precisely! Well done, Shelyid! You have instantly penetrated to the heart of the matter. By whom, indeed? The answer is clear—by my enemies.”
“Enemies, master?” queried the dwarf, confusion and alarm writ plain upon his face. “I didn’t know you had any enemies.”
“Neither did I, dwarf. But enemies I clearly have. And most puissant enemies, to boot, for not only have these fiends succeeded in preventing me from discovering the import of the King’s dream, they have, as well—the villainous rogues!—kept their identity, nay, even their existence, hidden from my sight, the which resembles clairvoyance in its precision. But—ha! I have foiled their plot! Yea, verily, I have uncovered the foul schemers!”
The wizard paced to and fro, gesticulating with great vehemence. “Yet here confront we now a difficulty, Shelyid, for though my grasp of thaumaturgy is, as you know, equaled by none, yet there exist certain minor and esoteric branches of science which remain, if I may indulge in metaphor, outlying provinces not yet fully incorporated into the empire of my intellect. Of these, of these few—mere handful, in fact—does foety include itself.”
“Foety, master? What is foety?”
“It is the study and lore of foes, Shelyid, including within its compass such fields as antagonology, enmitics, opponent psychology, developmental feudery, vindictrism, oppugnatic calculus, and, of course, the applied arts—revenge-work, table-turning, and so forth.”
For some moments did the mage stand silent, motionless, poised in deep thought.
At length he spoke. “Well! There is nothing else for it, Shelyid. The true man of wisdom recognizes as well his limitations, few and meager though these be. My skills in foety have remained dormant, lo these many years, having as I do no foes, due to my invariant courtesy of manner and demeanor. Yet foes it now appears I have, and powerful ones. I shall need assistance. So. Let us be off!”
“Off, master?” queried Shelyid, a hint of anxiety creeping forth upon his simian brow. “Off where?”
“To Prygg, of course. Where else? There does the witch Magrit dwell, and there is none on earth who has her mastery of foety. And well ’tis for her sake, the vile harridan, for rudeness and intemperance have made her a host of enemies. Indeed, were it not for my well-known forbearance, I should number myself among them. As it is, the encounter will not be pleasant, indeed, may even be fraught with danger.”
“Danger, master?” cried Shelyid, the hint of anxiety now grown to full stature.
“Of course, danger! What did you think? And not just from Magrit! Nay, much more, for the road to Prygg is long and oft perilous, replete as it is with savage beasts and diverse odd-fellows, ruffians and the like.”
Then did the dwarf cry out in anguish, blubbering most pathetically, calling upon his master to leave him behind, extolling the cleanliness and order of the domicile which would await the sorcerer upon his triumphant return from great deeds of renown, if left to the loving care of his loyal apprentice during the mage’s absence. But it was to no avail. Indeed, for his pains the dwarf was most soundly chastised by his master.