And How Best To Restrict The Public In Such A Way As To Ensure A Desirable Audience
Perhaps Stadeskosken ought to have transferred him to the hospitality department, since he managed to get his sheep to the rendezvous safe and on time after some sightseeing, a task often impossible even without the involvement of children, Yumins, or Yumin children. Audnauj and Onzalkarnd made the appointment also, the former looking disgruntled and slightly bewildered, a condition called disgwilderment by nobody.
“I don't usually trouble myself much about my room. A bed and a bushel of fodder are enough for anyone on the road. Still, I thought I should make a bit of a showing as a lord of Redrin, so off to the fanciest hotel in Dittsen I went after I saw a few brochures agree on it. Well, it's fully booked. No matter, on to the second, you say? That's just what I did, but it's the same there. The third, likewise. Had to settle for the sixth-fanciest in the end.”
Sympathy brought Dirant Rikelta closer in feeling to Audnauj than ever before. He did everything he could to cheer up the disappointed noble on their way to Millennium House, a hotel rated highly in every periodical that dealt with relevant topics such as cuisine, bellboy politeness, the quality of pillow stuffing, and general bed hugeness. Sixth in Dittsen qualified as first in most cities, Dirant claimed, unsure if it was true until they arrived. It was true. The beds were huge.
The hotel also offered maps for the convenience of its many foreign guests. Important people sought with those the whereabouts of Nifkir's Pillar where the special collection was to be presented while their servants used them to navigate, for example, to the docked Foam Stallion and back with the finest clothes Lord Audnauj's retinue possessed. That included even some non-gray attire for the Yumins in case Nifkir's Pillar policy restricted servants from entering the grounds. Dirant did not bother explaining Greater Enloffenkir did not hold to the convention of reserving gray for servants out of concern the revelation would diminish the impact of Audnauj's consideration in having the backup attire prepared.
That evening, everyone headed for the Pillar dressed in the best available. The Yumins mostly opted for pink, blue, or a combination thereof, Takki brought out a little jewelry, Dirant left his rucksack behind, and Audnauj Olzenchipt Stavripdeu Blawraj looked good wherever he went. So did Onzalkarnd, but less so, both by contrivance and the whims of nature.
Nifkir's Pillar did not take its name from its shape, but rather from the ambition of its builders that it become the foremost edifice dedicated to the pursuits of Nifkir, a goddess of luxury and theater, and probably also of some class or other under another name. A notion came to Dirant that he had already seen her in association with a class, but a firmer memory eluded him as he viewed the slender spires of the five-story testament to the city's opulence, to say nothing of its gilded reliefs that showed processions of actors, charioteers, singers, and revelers bound to an endless circuit of the marble exterior, their eyes bright with gems. The brochure he had picked up listed precisely which gems. It further informed him also that the Pillar's purpose was to welcome participants and elite spectators of races, regattas, and theater performances to after-parties held among treasures of art the interior had been designed to show off to best effect in terms of angles and lighting. Its various rooms differed in their layouts so that any object might be placed in an ideal display area regardless of whether it ought to be viewed from one side, all sides, the top, the bottom, in darkness or in blinding brilliance, and so on.
The crowds outside displayed themselves nearly as favorably. Some presented for public inspection jewelry or gold-threaded costumes obvious as to their outrageous cost, while others preferred to wear tailored apparel that the common man might not even realize to be beyond the budget of smaller states without the bill in hand. Beyond their dress, it was the civility of the affair that proved the quality of the attendees, since all were either too rich or too busy pretending to be rich to bother shoving and shouting.
That disappointed the Yumins, but they fit their behavior to the atmosphere of the occasion so as not to embarrass their master. Or their benefactor, in the case of Foshkay laGabohnsay, who deposited his family with the servants while he attended Lord Audnauj, Millim Takki Atsa, and Dirant Rikelta during their search for the globe or its owner.
“Vogdi JomOdro, if this brochure has it right.” Audnauj slapped the thing despite its unremitting helpfulness. “Is that Jom part like 'la' or 'es,' do you think? In Yumin names, I mean.”
“A patronymic?” Takki may have sounded a little detached from the conversation, but only because the chance of a mystery popping up in a setting such as that must approach one as the night went on. “Maybe. Isn't '-raj' identical?”
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“Not at all. That goes on the end.”
“Oh. That was silly of me. Wait. Was it?”
Dirant reassured her it was a matter of prioritization of interlocking factors rather than silliness versus sobriety as they entered the monument to the arts and excess. Vogdi JomOdro's collection justified the pomp, for the cultural output of his home continent's ancient denizens, added to his acquisitions from elsewhere, strained even the Pillar's floor space. Half-faded frescoes recovered from ruins hung next to tapestries both genuine and reconstructed; antique implements of agricultural, ceremonial, and hygienic significance had their places in recessed niches; and never did two walls meet but that there was in the corner some statue or mannequin wearing clothes of a cut last seen eight centuries ago at the earliest before being brought back to public view based on examples reclaimed from ancient wardrobes and friezes.
“Lord Audnauj, has your family considered financing works of art such as this rather than ones of an equine nature exclusively?” Dirant asked in front of a city model carved in jade by the cunning hands of craftsmen whose techniques matched or even exceeded those of the moderns. According to an informational placard, it had been found in the ruins of the city it depicted and provided valuable insight into the civil engineering of the time, quite aside from its worth as an ornament for Vogdi JomOdro's drawing room.
“We've considered it, yes.” The lack of passion in his tone suggested he, for one, was disinclined to pursue the idea further.
“The Myriad Puzzle is on the second floor according to this notice. I don't see anything about your globe, Ressi, but do we want to ascend?” Takki obviously did, and no one objected.
The next floor featured entertainments from the past, some of them enjoyed right up to the present day. Marbles, for instance. Primitive tops much cruder than the ones modern children ignored. The dice on display however shamed contemporary types, which featured only pips on their sides rather than miniature paintings of creatures blessed with unusual numbers of eyes.
In the center of the largest room on the floor, typically used for banquets, the divine puzzle was displayed in a glass case orbited by other cases which contained replicas to serve as examples of how the puzzle looked when put together. Though its divinity had never been established through sophisticated contemporary techniques such as speculation in academic journals, many who otherwise scoffed at the improbable claims of religion perceived something miraculous in a single puzzle that variably depicted a lord's visit to a peaceful town, a clash at sea between boats rich in oars, flames devouring a mighty forest, and an impetuous cavalry charge down a mountain's treacherous slopes. Those were but four of the nine variations represented, and the sign insisted more than those had been discovered.
“Impractical as it would be with regard to this relic, I prefer to put them together myself than to have the picture spoiled.” Dirant did look at the examples, but they did not thrill him as much as they might have.
“I agree with you there. I hope I can get a crack at it myself,” Audnauj said.
“We can't just brush practicality aside like that,” Takki objected. “They should have teams working on the puzzle at all hours to discover every combination of pieces. They can seal off the area with glass so we can watch them work. That's how progress happens.”
Foshkay laGabohnsay coughed. The other three were using Yumin to accommodate him, and emboldened by their consideration, he dared to offer an opinion. “Projects do usually turn out better when they have consistent manpower on a regular schedule. If you leave it slack and then hire a bunch of people to make up for it, well, they won't.”
“Exactly. What do you two gentlemen think about that?” Takki held herself loose in the customary manner of a Battler facing opponents she expected to defeat, but only after a heated contest.
Dirant answered. “There is no argument whether you two are correct about the best means to reach a certain end. It's the end where the disagreement is. I want to put together a puzzle with friends.”
“Just the same for me.”
“Thank you, Lord Audnauj. Furthermore, I don't believe there's any progress to be made. This puzzle is designed, whether by mortal hands or the gods, for the same purpose as all puzzles. There is nothing more to learn.”
“But that's just what we don't know, Ressi! Not for sure.”
The debate lasted them throughout the climb up to the third floor where items thought to be of a purely religious nature had been laid out for study. The attendees there seemed to be cast from a more sober mold than the ones below, for the most part either intensely interested in the artifacts displayed or absorbed in prayer. Dirant joined them in silence when he beheld the idols from the Hoduuri civilization.
The statuettes, each five or so inches tall, stood in pairs on shelves next to placards that described as much as was known of the practices of that ancient, vanished tribe which once lived on the Dosoroz continent. Even their name, Hoduuri, was simply a word signifying “ancient” in Yosribdi because no evidence what they called themselves had been unearthed. The most common artifacts found in their ruins were pots, some of them intact. After those came icons usually made of clay but sometimes of copper, iron, or other materials. They were customarily matched in twos to represent two aspects of one god, or so it was believed. For instance, scholars conjectured one little guy with huge calves depicted Joudobansbo the Runner while a similar fellow outfitted with unreasonable arms represented Joudobansbo the Swimmer. Dirant knew no Joudobansbo or any other Yosribdi names for gods, but in the rows of the display he recognized the idol depicting Avans the Creator. Or rather, he recognized some of its features that led him to make certain conclusions about what belonged in the empty spot next to it, which was labeled “Avans the Watcher (Theorized).”