The Flying Sorcerers

By the time I had finished the first set of loomteeth, Purple and Shoogar had finished their first set of experiments with wild housetree sap. Purple knew what he wanted to achieve, and Shoogar knew best how to achieve it.

The heated sap could be treated with certain other magician’s chemicals to make a putrid and foul smelling soup. Cloth could be dipped into this soup, and it would form an airtight seal. However, the seal was neither as tight nor as permanent as Purple had wished and so they continued to experiment.

On the day I began carving the third set of loomteeth, Purple announced that he had reached a solution to the problem of weaving a watertight cloth. Instead of dipping the whole cloth into the housetree soup, he would dip the spun threads before they were woven. When the thread dried it was impregnated with the sap and it had a smooth and shiny feel.

Cloth woven from these treated threads could then be treated in a modified housetree-binding solution and dried again. The threads, already soaked with housetree blood, would swell and join and become one solid material, impermeable to air and water.

Purple was delighted. If thread could be woven fine enough, and if my bone loomteeth would work as expected, then surely we could weave a cloth light enough and tight enough for the flying machine.

By the time I had finished the third set of loomteeth, Lesta had already woven several swatches of fine aircloth for Purple. It was smooth and shiny, and the weave was almost invisible to the eye.

“Isn’t it beautiful, Lant?” Purple exclaimed.

I had to admit that it was. Old Lesta beamed with pride.

Purple had been running from person to person, stopping them, and demanding that they feel his cloth. “Why, when the rest of the loomteeth are finished, we will be able to make a cloth of such quality!” He was so overcome with emotion, he could not finish the sentence.

Lesta was only slightly more subdued. “Lant,” he demanded, “I must have more of those loomteeth. I must have as many as you can carve. We are going to weave nothing but aircloth!”

“That will be great!” cried Purple. Thank you — I will be able to use all you can weave!”

Lesta stared at him. “Do you think it’s for you, you fuzzwort? This cloth will be in demand for miles around — we must prepare for that. When the waters go down again and the trade routes are reopened, we will be prosperous indeed!”

“Aaarggh!” said Purple. His face was red and blue and several other colors at once. “Betrayer!” he cried. “You must first weave enough cloth to satisfy my needs and purposes.”

“Nonsense,” muttered Lesta, “we have no agreement.”

“Snakeroot slime we don’t! I was to show you how to weave a finer cloth,” he raged, “and in return, you were to weave enough for my flying machine!”

“Blither-blather,” snarled Lesta, “it’s a magician’s duty to continually improve the way of life of his people. You were merely performing your duties, Purple — and for the first time, too!” he added.

“Wait a minute,” I cried. “Let me settle this.”

They both looked at me.

“It is my duty to aid the magicians whenever and wherever possible. This is precisely the type of situation in which I must arbitrate.”

“Lant is right,” said Purple. “Go ahead, Lant.”

Lesta glared at me. “Let’s hear what you have to say first,” he grumbled.

“Go on, Lant.”

“Well —” I said. “It is quite obvious to me what the situation is here. Purple is the magician, Lesta is the weaver. Purple has shown Lesta how to weave a cloth of a quality so fine that hitherto it has been unknown to men. Purple is now demanding payment for such knowledge, correct?”

They both nodded.

“However, Lesta has charged that he owes Purple nothing. Purple was merely performing his sworn duty as village magician to uplift the way of life of all men. Still correct?”

Again they nodded.

“Well, it is all quite simple,” I said. “It is obvious; Lesta is right.”

“Huh?” Purple’s jaw fell open with a snap.

Lesta beamed. “You are right, Lant. I will abide by your decision.” He threw a mocking glance at Purple.

“Now wait a minute, Lant —” Purple began.

“You heard him,” rapped out Lesta. “And you said you were willing to abide by his decision!”

“No, I didn’t — I said I’d wait to hear what he had to say cried Purple. “Lant, what are you doing?”

“Wait a minute!” I shouted again, “Wait a minute!”

Again they looked to me.

“I have not finished speaking,” I said.

They quieted.

“Lesta is right,” I repeated. “He owes Purple nothing. However,” I said slowly, “he does owe me —”

“Huh?”

“For the loomteeth,” I said. “You are using my loomteeth. I carved them, they belong to me.”

“You?” he said. “What would you use them for?”

I pretended to shrug nonchalantly. “Oh, I don’t know,” I said. “I might rent them out to various weavers; or I might become a weaver myself.”

“We would smash your looms!” he snarled.

“And risk the wrath of Shoogar?” I said. “No, you wouldn’t. Instead, you will pay me a fair price for the use of the teeth — as any other weaver would.”

“I am not any other weaver!” shouted Lesta. “I pay no price. You should be willing to do this out of sheer graciousness and goodwill for being allowed to settle here in this region.”

“It is a poor region,” I said. “I do not need it. Come, give me my loomteeth — I must go and talk with Hinc the weaver.”

“Uh — wait a minute,” said Lesta. “Maybe we can work something out —”

“I’m sure we can. You will be making profit beyond your wildest dreams. You should not begrudge me a fair price for my labor.”

His eyes narrowed. “And what is your so-called “fair price?”

Purple was gaping open-mouthed at this exchange. I said:

“Enough cloth for Purple to build his flying machine, plus five per cent more for me, for my own uses including trading.”

“Gack!” said Lesta. I thought he would choke and die right there.

“I have made it possible for you to weave a cloth better than any you have ever woven before!! Do you want to use these loomteeth or not?”

He eyed the flat bone pieces I held. I could see that he wanted them badly — and he knew that I would not hesitate to deal with some other weaver. Already the word was out about this fine cloth — there was not a weaver in the land who would not jump at the chance to make it.

“Humph,” he said. “I will offer you half that —”

“No. It is either all or nothing.”

“You ask too much! I cannot —”

I turned and started to walk away. “I think I saw Hinc over by the river —”

“Wait!” he called. I kept walking. “Wait!” He hurried after me, grabbed at my arm. “All right, Lant, all right. You win, you win. I will weave the cloth for Purple, and five per cent more for you.”

I stopped walking. “Fine. I will take a guarantee of it.”

“Huh?” He stared. “Is not my word enough?”

“No,” I said. “Else we would not have had this argument. I will take a guarantee. Two syllables of your secret name.”

“Two — two — syllables??” His mouth worked soundlessly. He swallowed hard, “You jest?”

I started up the hill again.

Again he caught my arm, “All right, Lant. All right.” He was subdued now, almost chastened. He looked around warily, then whispered into my ear. Two syllables.

“Thank you,” I said. “I hope you will never betray me. If you do, I will see that those secret syllables are no longer secret. The first person I’ll tell will be Shoogar.”

“Oh no, Lant, you have nothing to fear.”

“I am sure of it. Thank you, Lesta, I am glad that we could come to such a pleasant agreement. I will expect the first consignment of cloth within a hand of days.”

“Yes, Lant; certainly, Lant; anything, Lant-ah —”

“Yes?”

“The loomteeth that you’re holding?”

I looked down. “Oh, yes. You’ll need them, won’t you?” I handed them over.

Purple came up to me then, “Thank you, Lant.”

“For what? I was merely doing my duty.”

“Yes. Well, thank you for doing that. I appreciate it.”

I shrugged. “It was nothing. I am just as eager to see you leave in that flying machine as you are to do it”

I think he misunderstood. He said, “Oh, it will be a sight to see, all right.”

“Yes,” I said, “I can hardly wait.”