“This roadside hostel was even more wretched than the last; no one had even bothered to give it a name. The innkeeper was an obese man of apparently infinite sloth. The accommodations were very simple—no choice provided here! The traveler slept on a pallet on the floor and supped on a thin porridge; nothing else was available. The innkeeper, either through a keen sense for such things or because he had been forewarned by the driver, immediately accosted the wizard and demanded payment in advance. A round of haggling ensued; at the conclusion of which it was agreed that the wizard’s apprentice would clean the hostel as payment in kind for lodging; no meal was included in the bargain. Soon the wretch was sent scurrying about by the innkeeper; at the end of his labors, by which time most of us were already asleep, the place looked no cleaner than before. The innkeeper argued that the bargain was forfeit; but the sorcerer countered that the inn was so innately filthy that no amount of cleaning could solve the problem. The argument waxed hotly, but ended soon enough—partly because the wizard was obviously in the right, and partly because the innkeeper’s sloth encompassed disputation as well.”
“Find out who that man is and fire him!” bellowed the Director; “I won’t abide laziness among my employees!” The accountant coughed softly; the others of us said nothing; I thought of decay in the atolls; delusions brought on by misfortune; senility pressing in like the darkness which congealed upon our boat.
After a moment Barley resumed. “The next morning we went on; it was a dreary day—not raining; but the sky was overcast from horizon to horizon. All too soon—it seemed—we reached the edge of the forest—there the coach halted; we heard the driver’s voice call out—’All passengers read the sign!’ Startled, we leaned out the windows—there, on both sides of the road, were identical signs—
NOTICE
You are about to enter the Grimwald, so named for good reason. The Grimwald is not a subsidiary of the Consortium. The GGNESWC&EE&T Co. assumes no responsibility for losses of property, limbs, lives or well-being incurred by passengers traversing the forest. Passengers continuing onward do so in full knowledge of the situation, and have no grounds for complaint should your pleasant trip be ruined in any of the myriad ways familiar to travelers with experience of the Grimwald. Be warned. Should any passenger, upon due reflection, choose not to continue the journey, you may so inform the driver and he will allow you to disembark. It goes without saying that finding your way back to what passes for civilization in these parts is entirely your own affair. The GGNESWC&EE&T Co. assumes no liability for any mishaps which may occur, these being not unlikely as the northwestern region of Goimria is notorious for its intemperate weather, impure waters, poisonous plants, slavering carnivores, voracious insects, and—at their best—sullen inhabitants. Should you elect to stay on the coach, we hope you enjoy your trip and we thank you for traveling GGNESW etc.
” ‘Anybody gettin’ off?’ boomed the driver’s voice. ‘Last call!’ A moment’s silence; the passengers stared at each other; stared at the forest; stared back at the landscape just traversed; shrank into their seats; and were silent. ‘Pray for us!’ came the driver’s voice, and the coach lurched into motion. The forest closed around us.”
PART IV
In Which We
Momentarily Suspend
Korzeniowski’s Superlative Account
in Order to Resume Our Examination of the
Other Fugitives From Goimric Justice, Discovering
to Our Horror, as We Do, that Their Social
Villainy Is Becoming Entwined With
the First Horrid Seeds of
Carnal Lust.
The Autobiography of Benvenuti Sfondrati-Piccolomini,
Episode 3: Umbrellas, Uncles, Urchins, and Urges
So it was in such a leafy green shroud that I spent many days thereafter. I remember it, looking back, as a particularly joyful time of my life. All cares seemed to vanish as the great forest swallowed us up. Every day, one after another, was a steady progression along a narrow and winding trail. Above, the canopy of the trees shielded all direct sunlight. Everything was bathed with a dim green glow, which periodically darkened as storms passed overhead. The foliage was so thick that the rainfall from the storms we could hear in the sky above never fell directly on the soil. Like so many umbrellas, the great trees diverted the water into a million trickles seeping down the great boles.