Lankar of Callisto

Over the next few days, with remarkable ease and speed, I acquired considerable familiarity with the Thanatorian language. I had come to Callisto with a rough, working vocabulary of some forty or so words; Taran had given me a crude tutoring in sentence structure and verbs, and it was left to Zastro to polish my knowledge of the tongue, correct my accent, and extend my vocabulary. This was easier than it might have been, for his own knowledge of English was quite admirable, although he was better at writing the language than at speaking it.. In this department, the many hours he had spent learning my tongue from Jandar proved valuable. Thus, in very little time, I was able to make myself understood to the Shondakorians, and to understand much of what was said to me.

I was a guest at the royal table for dinner every night, and met and soon came to know most of the officials and notables of the kingdom. Princess Darloona was unfailingly kind and gracious to me, and went so far as to invite me to the royal apartments where I had the rare privilege of meeting the infant prince and heir of the kingdom, Kaldar, a handsome, intelligent, happy child with the red gold hair of his mother and the bright blue eyes of his sire. I call this privilege a rare one, because it is the Thanatorian custom to keep the children of royalty in an almost monastic seclusion until they have achieved the age of a boy like Taran.

I spent most of my evenings drinking wine and conversing with a small circle of gentlemen of the court, among which were Zastro himself and Glypto, together with the acerbic, touchy, ill-tempered little Soraban geographer, Dr. Abziz. As my familiarity with the lan=guage broadened and deepened, our conversations became far-ranging. Abziz and Zastro were fascinated to learn everything I could tell them about my native world, and I spent many an hour describing our literature and religion and customs, our methods of government, politics and modes of conducting warfare.

Glypto, on the other hand, was primarily interested in playing pranks, and his curiosity on these scientific subjects was virtually nil. He found Zastro a patient, pedantic bore, and delighted in teasing poor Dr. Abziz to the point of apoplectic fury. I can see him now, the old rascal, stretching out his long, thin shanks before a roaring hearth, downing quantities of a fiery native brandy called quarra, chortling and cackling and very pleased with himself, having by some absurd quip or practical joke punctured Dr. Abziz’s self-esteem, reducing the fussy little geographer to spluttering, inarticulate fury.

I don’t know if I can explain exactly why I found the little thief from Tharkol such delightful company. But, then again, it was almost impossible not to like him, he was so merry and comical. He even looked comical, with his hollow cheeks and enormous proboscis, strutting and swaggering like, a gamecock. He was a perfect mimic, and a born clown, and he belonged in that gallant and glorious company that ranged from Shakespeare’s Ancient Pistol, in Henry V, to Falstaff himself. Vain, preening, cowardly, obsequious, irrepressiblehe was the jolliest, most entertaining comrade I have ever known.

Taran adored him from the first; even Bozo came to tolerate the capering little clown, who treated him with gingerly respect and never came near the beast except when Taran or I were nearby. By his side, I explored the stews and wineshops and gambling halls of Shondakor, where he was known to all, and loved by all, I think. He seemed to know every cutpurse and fence in every low dive he took me to, and he delighted in showing me off to his disreputable, thievish friends. It was “me friend, his noble lordship” this and “me friend, his noble lordship” that, whenever we dipped into one or another dismal, lowly dive for a quick drink of some cheap brandy. Oh, he was inimitable, was Glypto, and the scrapes he nearly got me into during these nightly escapes into the seamier side of Shondakorian society would fill another chapter the size of this one.

But it was impossible to resist his rollicking good humor and the zest and gusto with which he plunged into each adventure. On more than one occasion, faced with what would otherwise have been another interminable evening of dull, scholarly conversation, I was secretly delighted when the spry little Tharkolian appeared at the door of my chambers in black cloak and silken vizor to entice me into the stews of the city for a brisk ramble through the wineshops and gaming houses. We would stride off into the night―having sent Taran scampering to Zastro’s apartments with a note of apology―and off we would go, cloaked and masked, to stroll and swagger through the dark alleys of Shondakor incognito, like two characters out of a Rafael Sabatini romance, off for a night of adventure. To be frank, I’m forced to admit it was the infectious pleasure of Glypto’s company that I enjoyed on the nightly ventures, more than what we did and where we went, for I’m afraid I was not too interested in these nightly ventures, for I am not much of a drinking man, and, since I had arrived here penniless, my purse was kept full by the graciousness of Princess Darloona. For this reason I did not care to gamble; then again, gambling has always seemed to me a completely foolish way to waste time and throw away good money.