“Craft, indeed,” said the astronomer, and smiled
“I would imagine that there is no greater craftsman on the entire disc than you, Goldeneyes. Would I be right?”
The craftsman paused, his naked body - naked at least, were it not for a toolbelt, a wrist abacus and a deep tan -tensing as he considered the implications of this last remark. The golden eyes appeared to be looking into some other world.
“The answer is both yes and no,” he said at last Some of the lesser astronomers behind the throne gasped at this lack of etiquette, but the Arch astronomer appeared not to have noticed it.
“Continue,” he said.
“There are some essential skills that I lack. Yet I am Goldeneyes Silverhand Dactylos,” said the craftsman. “I made the Metal Warriors that guard the Tomb of Pitchiu, I designed the Light Dams of the Great Nef, I built the Palace of the Seven Deserts. And yet-” he reached up and tapped one of his eyes, which rang faintly, “when I built the golem army for Pitchiu he loaded me down with gold and then, so that I would create no other work to rival my work for him, he had my eyes put out.”
“Wise but cruel,” said the Arch-astronomer sympathetically.
“Yah. So I learned to hear the temper of metals and to see with my fingers. I learned how to distinguish ores by taste and smell. I made these eyes, but I cannot make them see.
“Next I was summoned to build the Palace of the Seven Deserts, as a result of which the Emir showered me with silver and then, not entirely to my surprise, had my right hand cut off.”
“A grave hindrance in your line of business,” nodded the Arch-astronomer.
“I used some of the silver to make myself this new hand, putting to use my unrivalled knowledge of levers and fulcrums. It suffices. After I created the first great Light Dam, which had a capacity of 50,000 daylight hours, the tribal councils of the Nef loaded me down with fine silks and then hamstrung me so that I could not escape. As a result I was put to some inconvenience to use the silk and some bamboo to build a flying machine from which I could launch myself from the top-most turret of my prison.”
“Bringing you, by various diversions, to Krull,” said the Arch-astronomer. “And one cannot help feeling that some alternative occupation -lettuce farming, say - would offer somewhat less of a risk of being put to death by instalments. Why do you continue in it? Goldeneyes Dactylos shrugged.
“I’m good at it,” he said.
The Arch-astronomer looked up again bronze fish, shining now like a gong in the noontime sun.
“Such beauty,” he murmured. “And unique. Come, Dactylos. Recall to me what it was that I promised should be your reward?”
“You asked me to design a fish that would swim through the seas of space that lie between the worlds,” intoned the master craftsman. “In return for which - in return-“
“Yes? My memory is not what it used to be,” purred the Arch-astronomer, stroking the warm bronze.
“In return,” continued Dactylos, without much apparent hope, “you would set me free, and refrain from chopping off any appendages. I require no treasure.”
“Ah, yes. I recall now.” The old man raised a blueveined hand, and added, “I lied.”
There was the merest whisper of sound, and the goldeneyed man rocked on his feet. Then he looked down at the arrowhead protruding from his chest, and nodded wearily. A speck of blood bloomed on his lips.
There was no sound in the entire square (save for the buzzing of a few expectant flies) as his silver hand came up, very slowly, and fingered the arrowhead.
Dactylos grunted.
“Sloppy workmanship,” he said, and toppled backwards.
The Arch-astronomer prodded the body with his toe, and sighed.
“There will be a short period of mourning, as befits a master craftsman,” he said. He watched a bluebottle alight on one golden eye and fly away puzzled… “That would seem to be long enough,” said the Arch-astronomer, and beckoned a couple of slaves to carry the corpse away.
“Are the chelonauts ready?” he asked.
The master launchcontroller hustled forward.
“Indeed, your prominence,” he said.
“The correct prayers are being intoned?
“Quite so, your prominence.”