“No, clearly man himself cannot be improved. It is only the inanimate that may, with man’s intervention, be practiced to perfection.” Hoss’k smiled and took a sip of wine.
Dennis couldn’t escape a vague feeling that had nagged him for an hour, that he had encountered the man before and that there was some cause for enmity between them.
“Okay,” he said, “you’ve explained why inanimate tools improve with use… because the gods decreed that it be so.
But how does a piece of flint, for instance, become an ax simply by being used?”
“Ah! A good question!” Hoss’k paused to belch good-naturedly. Across the table from Dennis, Linnora rolled her eyes, but Hoss’k did not notice.
“You see, Wizard, scholars have long known that eventual fate of this ax you mention is partly determined by the essence of making, imbued into it by an anointed master of the stonechoppers’ guild. The essence that is put into an object at its beginning is just as important as the Pr’fett, which the owner invests through practice.
“By this I mean that practice is important, but it is useless without the proper essence at the beginning. Try as he might, a peasant cannot practice a sled into a hoe, or a kite into a cup. An implement must start out at least a little bit useful in its designated task to be made better through practice. Only master makers have this skill.
“This is something not well enough appreciated by the masses, particularly lately, with all of this intemperate grumbling against the guilds. The rabble-rousers chant about ‘value added’ and the ‘importance of practice labor’ But it’s all ignorant foolishness!”
Dennis had already realized that Hoss’k was the type of intellectual who’d dismiss an urgent and unstoppable change in his society, blithely ignoring the forces that pulled all about him. His kind always fiddled while Rome burned, all the while explaining away the ashes with their own brand of logic.
Hoss’k sipped his wine and beamed at Dennis. “Of course, I don’t have to explain to a man such as yourself why it is so necessary to control the lower orders.”
“I haven’t any idea what you’re talking about,” Dennis answered coolly.
“Now, now, Wizard, you need not dissemble. From inspecting the items you have so kindly, er, lent us, I can tell so very much about you!” With an indulgent smile the man bit into a pulpy dessert fruit.
Dennis decided to say nothing., He had eaten slowly and spoken little this evening, aware that the Baron was watching his reactions closely. He had barely touched his wine.
Dennis and Linnora had shared glances as they dared.
Once, when the Baron was speaking to the butler and while the scholar addressed the ceiling expansively, the Princess puffed her cheeks and mouthed a nattering mimicry of Hoss’k. Dennis had had to struggle not to laugh out loud.
When Kreflner had looked at them curiously, Dennis tried to keep a straight face. Linnora assumed a mask of attentive innocence.
Dennis realized that he was well on his way toward falling in love.
“I am curious, Deacon,” Kremer said. “What can you divine about out guest’s homeland from only his tools and his demeanor?”
The Baron lounged back on his plush, thronelike chair. He seemed filled with a restless energy, carefully, calculatedly restrained. It showed from time to time as he crushed nuts in his bare hands.
Hoss’k wiped his mouth on his napkin-sleeve. He bowed his head. “As you wish, my Lord. First, would you tell me which of Dennis Nuel’s tools are of most interest to you?”
Kremer smiled indulgently. “The far-killing hand weapon, the far-seeing glass box, and the box that shows shining insects moving as dots.”
Hoss’k nodded. “And what do all of these things have in common?”
“You tell us.”
“Very well, my Lord. Clearly these implements contain essences wholly unknown here in Coylia. Our lady of the L’Toff"—Hoss’k inclined his head to Linnora—"has confirmed this fact for us.
“Although he has endeavored to hide the details of his origins, our wizard’s plain ignorance of some of the most basic facts about our way of life indicates that he comes from a distant land, easily beyond the Great Desert beyond the mountains—a land where the study of essence has developed along radically different lines than it has here.
“Perhaps essence itself is different there, such that the tools they practice are constrained to develop in totally divergent ways.” Hoss’k smiled, as if he knew he were making a daring speculation.
Dennis sat up in his chair. Perhaps this fellow is no dolt after all, he thought.
“The box of lights, in particular, tells me much,” Hoss’k went on, confidently. “The tiny trained insects it contains behind its clear cover are unknown in these parts. They are smaller than the tiniest firefly. What are they called, Wizard?”
Dennis sat back in his chair again, almost sighing aloud in disappointment. Cavemen, he reminded himself.
“They are called pixel array elements,” he answered. “They are made up of things called liquid crystals, which—”
“Living crystal elementals!” Hoss’k interrupted Dennis. “Imagine that! Well, I feared at first that the little creatures were dying under my care. After a time they grew dim, and I could find no airholes nor any way to supply them with food. Finally I learned—almost by accident, I will confess—that they recovered quite nicely when fed sunlight!”
Dennis couldn’t help reacting with a raised eyebrow. Hoss’k took note and grinned in triumph.
“Ah, yes, Wizard. We are not bumpkins or fools here. This discovery was particularly pleasing to my Lord Baron. Until that time his new weapon, the small “needle-caster” you so graciously provided, had stopped functioning. Now, of course, that tool is also fed its fill of sunlight every day as it is practiced.”
The portly scholar beamed as Baron Kremer acknowledged this coup with a faint smile and nod. Kremer obviously had plans for the needler. Dennis frowned but remained silent.
“Like the bugs in the wonder box,” Hoss’k continued. “Something inside the weapon must at intervals eat from the sun. Indeed, when the weapon is used one can hear the faint scamperings of captive animals inside it.
“I did find a little food door on that machine. And now we provide the creatures inside with the metal they apparently require besides sunlight.
“These demons of yours have expensive tastes, Wizard. My Lord has used up the price of several serfs just keeping the weapon in practice!”
Dennis kept his face impassive. The fellow was clever, but his deductions were diverging more and more from reality. Dennis tried not to think about how Kremer might be “practicing” his needler.
“And just what does all this tell you about my homeland?” he asked.
Hoss’k grinned. “Well, first off we have seen that part of your magic is in taking the essence of living things and imbuing them into tools before practice even begins. This suggests to me a society with less regard for the dignity of life than we have here in Coylia.”
Dennis couldn’t help smirking sardonically. Of all the fatuous conclusions to reach! He glanced at Linnora to share his feelings in a secret glance but was shaken by the look she gave him. She obviously didn’t think much of Hoss’k, but his latest deduction obviously disturbed her. She fingered her napkin nervously.
Couldn’t she tell that the scholar was only flailing around blindly?