The Complete Annotated Lost Folk Tales of Pippidufka | by Max Singer | No. 4 | The Besotted Vizier

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The AnnotatedComplete Lost Folk Tales of Pippidufka By

Part Four

The BesottedVizier

the besotted vizier or why pippidufka cannot be found on a map.

(Also known as The Inebriated Internuncio or The Pickled Plenipotentiary, from The Lost Folk Tales of Pippidufka or, variously, The Lost Folk Tales Of Pei Pei Du Fu Kwa, The Lost Folk Tales Of Siddi Ba’aaka, “The Besotted Vizier ’tis the taille most suited for gatherynges of idlers, phantasists, time-weavers, woole-gatherers, vagabond poets, rebellious artistes, villainous scriveners, diffident heretics and such-same ignorant troublemakers who prefereth it’s falsettés above alle other troothes.”

Sir John Mandeville. As Thyse Tailles are Tolde. A Gydebook for Bardes: Being A Compendium of the Protocols, Pleasures and Perils of the Performanse of The Tailles of Pippidufka

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the four lords et cetera

Once upon a time, long ago, 1 far, far away 2 et cetera, there was a kingdom in the middle of a vast fertile plain. 3 In that kingdom there lived Four Great Lords4 and all the others of their retinue,5 and the Four Great Lords’ Ladies and all the others of their retinue6 and the Four Great Lords’ Courtiers and all the others of their retinue.7 And they had been at war with one another for as long as anyone could remember.8

1 OR: Very recently.

2 OR: Just around the bend.

3 OR: In a mountain valley, on the edge of a great desert, or by the sea.

4 OR: Dukes, Sheikhs, Proconsuls, Commissars, Doges, Satraps, or Warlords. (It all depends who is telling the tale.)

5 Ministers, Councilors, Advisors, Generals, Knights, Courtiers, Squires. Etc.

6 Ladies-in-waiting, Femmes du Chambres, Maids, Old Maids, Castratos, Eunuchs, etc.

7 Priests, Scribes, Sergeants-at-Arms, Falconers, Footmen, Mutes, Jesters, Dwarfs, Servants, Servant’s Servants, etc.

8 FOR AS LONG AS ANYON E COULD REMEMBER was such a very long span of time indeed, that NARY -A -ONE of that ANYONE which ANYONE happened to include The Four Great Lords EtceteraA could remember how lengthy a period of time FOR AS LONG AS ANYON E COULD remember was. Let alone remember what it was they had been fighting aboutB in the first place. Not of course that that mattered in the least, at the last. Praise or curse the Saints,C with the passage of time, enough, other, More Recent and Serious

Offenses, Snubs, Murders, Poisonings, Assassinations, Patricides, Regicides, and InfanticidesD had occurred to fuel the flames of a hundred such conflicts. In troothe, if one were to view The Latest Up to Date Official Subject to Change Without Notice Greate Mappe of the RealmE Drawne in the Moderne Multi-Layered Style, Showing All at One Sight, the Compleate Shiftes of Fortunes and Borders, Sites of Battles and Levelling of Cities, Laying to Waste of Countrysides and the Suche. One Copper!F It would appear to the uninitiatedG like a book to an illiterate: a many coloured crazy-quilt of scratchings, cross-hatchings, inter-layerings, dots, dashes, arrows and lines created by some artist or scrivener or other inhabitant of an asylum for lunatics.

AThe traditional short-of-hand for The Four Great Lords and All the Others of Their Retinue, and the Four Great Lords’ Ladies and All the Others of Their Retinue, and the Four Great Lords’ Court and All th e Others of Their Retinue, etc ., also, referred to in the texts, variously, as: The Four Great Lords Et Cetera, The Four Lords Et Cetera, “The Four Et Ceteras, The Four Lords Dot Dot Dot or, simply, The Four Dots.

B OR: for, against or over.

C MOST OFTEN: Bludgynn, Patron Saint of the Manufacturers-ofArms-and-Armor; Hectare, Patron Saint of the Drawers of Mappes; Buncoman, Patron Saint of Tellers-of-Tailles.

D Not to mention the usual-everyday-plain-old Pillagings, Plunderings and Rapings.

E OR: Kingdom, Empire, Nation, State, Sultanate, etc.

(It all depends who is telling the tale.)

F Heretofore and usually referred to as: The Official Greate Mappe of the Realm One Copper.

G i.e., all but those Cartographers, Surveyors, Engravers, Artists and Printers whose livelihoods depend upon those very conflicts to necessitate such frequent and, hopefully, endless revisions and obsolescences.

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the mogloré

In this particular case which is assuredly not the usual a time came when everyone in the kingdom9 became sick unto death of the entire affair and amongst that everyone was not just anyone but the current MOST OMNIPOTENT AND GLORIOUS LORD OF THE REALM 10 aka THE MOGLORÉ11 for whom those The Four Lords Et Cetera as seen from his exalted height were only a step or two above the lowest of the low of his subjects.

The Four Lords Et Cetera had made themselves an imperious pain in the imperial arse of the Mogloré, who was bes ieged by advisors, councilors, ambassadors, generals, merchants even scriveners of broadsheets! demanding to know when and how he would deale with this situation.

Thus unable to focus upon those things he considered most vital to the well-being of his kingdom and his legacy,12 The Mogloré, was finally roused to action and promulgated a Royal Edikt, commanding The Four Lords Et Cetera to immediately desist from all hostilities and to gather together in a great encampment to await the arrival of an Emissary Extraordinaire13 with powers granted to him by the Mogloré to “Altereth, Modifye, Rearrange and Draweup, as He shall deemeth fit” a new Official Greate Mappe of the Realme One Copper. And that His Edikt should be obeyed, The

9 Except of course for The Four Lords Et Cetera.

10 OR: King, Rajah, Sultan, Pasha, Emperor, Czar. (It all depends who is telling the tale.)

11 The Akronym by which the palace guards were instructed to refer to him Akronyms, being in those times a new invention, the mere having of one was considered a social necessity amongst the royal classes, so much so, that its sound upon the tongue, bestial though it be, mattered little.

12 TO WIT: Monument Building, Commissioning of Laudatory Musiks, the Development of New Species of Orchids, tending to the Royal Menagerie, Dog-breeding, Falconry, Pederasty and the like.

13OR: Vizier Vitae, Plenipotentiary Pro Forma, Internuncio Inter-Alii, i.e. Hatchetman and Enforcer. (It all depends who is telling the tale.)

Mogloré placed The Four Et Ceteras “under payne of all sortes of nastie thynges,”14 and, if alle else faileth “other even nastiere thynges.”15

under the auspices of an inauspicious arrival

Heeding The Mogloré’s Edikt, The Four Et Ceteras had ordered their advisors to consult the archive’s most up-to-date edition of Tailles, Hysteries and Compendiums concerning the Protocols and Proprieties of Great Events. (Particularly Vols VI-XXVII.)

And following the proscriptions described in that greate text, they subsequently gathered themselves together in a great encampment, each beneath their own pennants, banners, and signets, and awaited The Vast Cloud Of Dust that signaled the arrival of an emissary and his retinue 16 (as described in The Tale of the Punctilious Plenipotentiary17) who would, thence, erect,

14Which, in those times was a short-of-hand for the Gallows, Gibbet, Noose, Rack, Pillory, Stocks, Flogging, Scourging, Cane, Rod, Stake, Thumbscrew, Strappinado, Bastinado, Estrapade, Disembowelment, Evisceration, Defenestration, the dreaded Castrato-de-Gustibus a variant of Castrato-Perfuncta (i.e. regular Castrato followed by Flaying, Filleting, Salting of Wounds, Boiling in Oil and Feeding to the Dogs)

15Mostly of foreign origin, the exact nature of which we need not elaborate upon amongst polite or mixed company, but shall, in the stead, out of deference to the proclivities of those few curious readers or listeners, direct them to the local depository of such knowledge, usually the archives of a local monastery, where the histories, compendiums, reports and record of such things are often kept but most often, perhaps...kept hidden! [As the sign reads: Please-form-an-orderly-queue-and-be-patient.]

16 Alchemists, linguists, generals, historians, mathematicians, astronomers, seers, augurs and mancers (readers of bones and innards, skulls and palms, feces, clouds and other portents) and their retinue and servants and their aides and their aides’ servants and their aides’ servants’ aides and their retinue.

17 “…AT THE FIRST LIGHT of dawn, a vast cloud of dust appeared on the horizon and as the maelstrom grew closer and closer, the gathered crowd could begin to make out the outlines of A SEA of carts, coaches, wagons,

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thereupon, The City of Paper and Dust (as described in The Tale of the Meticulous Intermediary18) wherein they would gather all the records and archives they would need to complete their great task of peace in the manner of Chronicles of The Indefatigueable Internuncio.

litters, caissons, barrows, ox carts, tumbrels, caravans, buggies and other vehicles of transport PULLED BY teams of horses, yokes of oxen, elephants, water buffalo, mules, llamas, bactrians, asses, onagers, donkeys and other beasts of burden CARRYING great stores of cereals, grains, rice, wheat, millet, beans, dried fruits, olives and other foodstuffs; crates of goblets, flasks, flagons, tankards, glasses and cups to serve therein the spirits brandy, rum, wine, liqueur, ale, lager and mead stored in barrels, bottles, kegs, jugs, skins and amphorae FOLLOWED by herds of sheep, goats, pigs, cattle, hens, game hens, geese, ducks, and other fowl too numerous to name AFTER WHICH came packs of dogs, cages of monkeys, sleek ocelots, falcons, gamecocks, ponies, dancing bears, parrots, songbirds and myriad other beasts whose purpose be other than sustenance AND THEREAFTER legions of workers: Armorers! Smiths! Coopers! Farriers! Tailors! Ironmongers! Cooks! Butchers! Seamstresses! all dressed in the distinctive colors and insignia and garb of their guilds FINALLY with flags and pennants flying, trumpeters trumpeting, drummers drumming, The Emissary and His Retinue Et Cetera…”

18 “...and upon the first instance that the vanguard of this caravan arrived, they set to work with blinding speed and practiced precision upon a monumental undertaking: erecting within a single day an entire city of tents, pavilions, rotundi, gazebos, cabanas, tipis, shacks, huts, lean-tos, stables, barns, styes and dovecotes; all placed upon an exacting grid of avenues, streets, boulevards, thoroughfares, overpasses, underpasses, round-a-bouts, alleys, cul-de-sacs, plazas, parks and squares; wherein and whereupon would exist places to sleep, places to work, places to dine, places to argue, places to pray, places for entertainments, places for lectures, places for practice of horsemanship and swordsmanship as well as places for all those endeavors for which there ought not be places for but without which no city is complete

And, just as night fell, the city was finished and fully inhabited, save for one last sorry straggler, the Castellan, whose single role in this great work was to arrive, enter, draw from his pocket the key to the gate, and lock it behind him.”

19 “…and on the very next morn, they set to task with great purpose and diligence: scouring the kingdom’s archives, churches, bookeries, lycée,

In further obeisance to those traditional tales, The Four Et Ceteras erected for themselves A Voluminous Tent Which Openeth Unto A Spacious Pavilion Shaded With Silken Umbrellas And Canopies Of Broadclothe, Upon Whyche Were Placed JewelEncrusted Thrones, Carved Sofas, And Settees, Covered With Pillows Of Linen And Sateen-Brocade, Filled With The Softest Of Downes20 and caused this Spacious Pavilion to be raised up well up above the heads of the common folk, so that, as The Four Et Ceteras proclaimed, they might better watch the Emissary and His Retinue Et Cetera approach 21

Thus it was that on the day of the Emissary’s scheduled arrival, The Four Et Ceteras rose early, donned their Formal Robes, Crowns and Regalia, strapped on their Ceremonial Swords and Scabbards, left their tents, mounted the pavilion they had erected, and sat there upon the Thrones, Sofas, and Settees they had placed thereon.

They ordered sentries sent out, that they should trumpet at first sight of the Vast Cloud Of Dust on the horizon that in those aforementioned tales signaled the arrival of an Emissary’s caravan.

courts, graveyards, attics, closets, trunks, desks, and squirrel-holes to collect, study, examine, pore over, debate, analyze and discuss everything Anything!! that might prove pertinent to the judicious success of their commission, such as registers of births, notices of deaths, banns, ledgers, books of account, histories, writs, epitaphs, rosters, inventories, wills, treaties, genealogies, atlases, cartes diplomatique, graffiti, poems, lays, airs, lieder, scores, ancestral portraits, chronicles, warrants, diaries, pedigrees, annals, catalogues raissones, obelisks, steles, dissertations, affidavits, speeches, elegies, funereal orations, epistles, texts, treatises, memoirs, insignia, seals, signets, etchings, drawings, plans, blueprints, cameos, legends, myths, folktales, proverbs, superstitions…”

20 Which, in those aforementioned tales they had oft read, were described to be the manner, custom, and practice.

21 Although it was, in truthe, to raise the nostrils of The Four Et Ceteras above that quite dreadful miasma, redolent of soldier sweat, stallion dung, and the other such noxious emanations par exemplus: those arising from the orifices of the common folk that inevitably accompany suche gatherynges.

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Then they waited. And waited. And waited.

But as the light dimmed, with no such sounds of trumpets heard, and thinking the Emissary’s Caravan to have been delayed, perhaps encamped for the night in some grassy field, cool oasis, shady dale or rushing riverbank, The Four Et Ceteras gave a sigh mixed of relief and annoyance, rose from those Pillows of Softest Down, from those Most Comfortable Thrones, Sofas and Settees, retired to the attached tent where they began to loose their formal robes, unbuckle their ceremonial swords and scabbards and made ready to make water.22

But, as fate would have it, just then a trumpet rang out and a herald announced “Lone Rider Approaching!”

Assuming this lone rider to be a mere messenger from the Emissary, The Four Et Ceteras made no haste to re-don their garments and accoutrements, or to interrupt their making of water, and thus, when nary a eye-blink of time later, the Captains-of-theGuard strode into the tents and announced that they had been informed by their Lieutenants-at-Arms that their Officers-of-theWatch had been apprised by their Aides-de-Camp that they had determined through presentation of various Officialle Seales, Signets And Paperes, that the lone rider was not a mere messenger of the Emissary, but was none other than the Emissary himself flaunting all norms and conventions of Due Respect, Deference and Diplomacy as described in the very tales they had consulted The Four Et Ceteras were caught, as it were, with their pantaloons down, as, in-a-nonce, the tent flap was drawn back and entered into by an individual whose appearance was no less strange than the manner of his arrival.

22 Or, in some cases, the other.

of mixed and motley mien

He was a fellow of mixed and motley mien. His garb, on the one hand, despite tears, dirt, stains, and other marks of use, abuse and misuse, betrayed a rich and luxurious origin. Yet, on the other, were composed of such a hodge-podge of elements, designs and materials they all but announced they had been chosen from a host of closets and armoires by fancy or by whim or, perhaps, merely by chance.

The garments themselves were held together by an incongruous multiplicity of buckles, ties, frogs, sashes, hooks, knots, brooches and pins and were festooned with appliquéd tassels, lacework epaulettes, filigreed beading, spangled fribbles and other froufrou.

Topping this ensemble in truth, literally crowning it upon the pate of this odd person, sat a sort of floppy cap which, though made of a fine shiny material of one sort or another, embroidered all upon with arabesques of gold and silver thread, interspersed therein with jewels, feathers, and fur, nonetheless resembled nothing if not the deflated bladder of a large pig

Of the personage’s face, little could be said of it, for little could be seen of it, covered by or rather, overgrown with a moustache and beard of thick but unpredictable growth which, whilst showing signs of having been, at least once-upon-a-time, well cared for, nonetheless was, au currant, in a desperately disheveled and unkempt state.

On first sight, this “beard” appeared to be tinge d with the gray of a man passing from youth to middle age.

Upon second sight, the flecks, were no signs of mature wisdom, but simple encrustations of foodstuff and sundry varietals, both animal and vegetable.

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What was even more striking to The Four Et Ceteras was neither this personage’s physical appearance nor the manner of his appearance at their tent but the fact that this quite ridiculous figure was obviously besotted! For, taking a few steps forward, he teetered and fell flat on his arse. He waved off all attempts to assist him and after a tenuous struggle, finally, somewhat unsteadily, regained the vertical and dusted himself off.

Had this besotted individual not cleared his throat and spoken at that instant, The Four Et Ceteras may well have done something rash and imprudent such as having the idiot slain.

But, reaching into the very bowels of his garments, he extracted from some unseen receptacle, an official looking scroll which he unsealed, unrolled, and, after clearing himself of a noisome quantity of phlegm, read aloud in a voice so deep, resonant, and determined, that he was transformed before their very eyes into an altogether different personage.

“HEAR YE ALL THOSE PRESENT! attend ye to the words of the MOST WISE, MOST BENEVOLENT and so forth and so on MOST DIVINE (waving his fingers in the air) Et cetera MOST omnipotent (rising to a crescendo) LORD OF THE REALM , who in his courage, great wisedom and the such has instructed his MOST LOYAL, HUMBLE, OBEDIENT more of the same to travel Night and Day da-dida-da-di-da Desert and Mountain if he only knew the half of it Rain the Heat da -di-da dadi-da to the Realm of the four great lords dot dot dot et cetera that’s you To divine the MEANS THEREBY to put an end to conflicts, set-tos, wars more of the same powers granted alter modify rearrange a Newe Officiale Greate Mappe. One Copper which ye shall heed (a long pause) Under Payne of Alle Sortes of Nastie Thynges!”

a grotesque performance

Thereupon the Vizier launched into a quite animated and graphic elucidation of the horrors which would await The Four Et Ceteras were they to prove stubbornly resistant to the Mogloré’s will, adding pantomime and the imitation of sounds to his presentation, not just for the added emphasis but also for his own pleasure, for in truth, unbeknownst to The Four Lords Et Cetera, Alle Sortes of Nastie Thynges23 was one of the Vizier’s favorite monologues, the

23 Nastie Thynges was not only the signature of the Besotted Vizier, but has been, in one form or another, a staple of Commedia del Arte for centuries e.g. The Vizier Speaks, a historical recreation of Alle Sortes of Nastie Thynges as made famous by the barde Petra “the Great Disemboweler” Vlenkoff in the role of The Besotted Vizier though its origin in these tales was unknown until the discovery and publication of The Silesians’ Text. Nastie Thynges was known to have been performed at least once in England, during Cromwell’s Protectorate, for the amusement of the crowd awaiting the execution, by means of “alle sortes of nastie thynges,” of a group of Scotch Papists and Rebels. The event was memorialized in Childe Ballad 237, “The Juste and Grewsome [sic] Deathe of the Papist MacDuff Clan” also known as Saw the Aire* attributed to a certain Roger de Quim, excerpts of which are appended below. Many of the great Pippidufkan Bards of the 17th and 18th centuries, adopted Nastie Thynges as their own, each having their own particular specialty, that specific “nastie thynge” by whose name they became known and acclaimed. Thus the Italian, Signori Alfredo Cossiminni (1682–1732) was known as Fredo the Choker, the Prussian, Otto Klempfhardt (1701–1779) was billed as Otto the Castrato, and Petra Vlenkoff (1750–1809) was called Petra the Great Disemboweler. St. John Merrieweather’s 1763 Treatise On the Performance of Nastie Thynges remained a staple of British Theatrical pedagogy up until the Age of Victoria. And, as for modern times, it was rumored in “Beat” circles that none other than poet Allen Ginsburg had intro duced “nastie thynges” and the tales to Jim Morrison of The Doors, having first heard them himself from Paul Bowles, during a stopover in Mrabet, Morocco, en route to an ashram in Northern India.

*SAW THE AIRE

Put a rope around his Neck, Pull the lever (what the heck!) A Fall, a Snap, a Spurt of Sperm, Now he’s Fodder for the Worme. Tra la la la la la la, Gallows, garotte, noose.

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performance of it one of his greatest pleasures, i n fact, his signature piece.

TO WIT (the Vizier continued) The Garrote, the Gallows, the Noose! (pretending to tie a rope around neck, dropping, twisting, choking, causing eyes to pop out) The Rack, the Pillory, the Stocks (turning imaginary crank, making creaking, groaning sounds, spread-eagling arms and legs, making soundless screams, mouth agape) Flogging! Scourging! The Cane! The Rod! (pretending to flog self vigorously) The Thumbscrew! (holding thumb, jumping about as if in great pain) The Stake! (wiggling fingers dramatically in imitation of flames, making sizzling sounds) Strapinado! Estrapade! OUCH! OUCH! OUCH! OUCH! Disembowelment! Evisceration! (imaginary blade making a quick slash cross mid-section and pulling out slowly, inch-by-inch, foot-by-foot, imaginary innards) Defenestration! (pretending to lug body across floor, open window, shove it out, long fading scream, voice deepening, growing serious) Castrato Perfuncta! Snip! Snip! (covering private parts, voice quickly rising to vibrant, mincing, quite thrilling ‘falsetto con brio’) The Dreaded Castrato De Gustibus! Followed by Flaying! Filleting! Salting, Boiling in Oil! Feeding to the Dogs (voice returning to normal) I wager thou understandeth my meaning, M’Lords. So, tomorrow hence, when the sun is high not before, prithee we shall gather here again. Ye may state your case. For now, m’Lords, Ladies and Et Ceteras, I am weary and shall to my tent retire. Adieu.”

And, with great panache, he took a deep bow and passed out.

Hoiste him up, yea, just like that, Then we hit him with a Batte! Take that and that and that and That, And that and that and that is That. Tra la la la la la la, Bastinado, Estrapade.

Tie the fellow to the Stake, A pile of kindling round him make, Light the fire, hear him Sizzle, (Pray it doesn’t rain and Sizzle). Tra la la la la la la, the stake, the stake, the stake.

a sleepless night

It was quite clear to The Four Et Ceteras that this Besotted Vizier was not the scholarly, studious character they knew from the familiar tale “Not Church Nor Brothel” from The Journal of the Meticulous Emissary 24

For, in abandoning all precedent and convention, both in the mode and manner of his appearance and arrival, this emissary had left them without any textual reference upon which to hang their cloaks of anxious expectation. They thought, “My god! What would come next?” A new plot situation for which the old tales had not prepared them, a narrative in which they would be wandering blind in new and uncertain territory? Or could their

24 …and the Emissary and his counselors read, studied and pored over the documents they had assembled.

They calculated and recalculated. Measured and remeasured. Added and subtracted. Argued and reargued. Drew and redrew.

Until, at last, they came to an equitable and just division of the realm into equal parts: none of which had more nor less than any of the others not cities nor towns, not field nor forest, not rivers nor lakes, not mountains nor valleys, not cattle nor swine, not fox nor hen, not castle nor hovel, not farmer nor factory, not stream nor creek, not soldier nor priest, not wealth nor impoverishment, not peasant nor knight, not church nor brothel, not gold nor dross…

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climax be even worse? Would they find themselves cast in the roles of The Pecunious Princes in The Parable Of The Dilatory Diplomat 25 with all the dire consequences of that tale’s portentously unforeseen conclusion?

Needless to say, The Four Et Ceteras did not sleep soundly that night.

a pet eat di junay

On the morrow, The Four Et Ceteras gathered in the great tent at the appointed hour, as was so ordered by the Vizier, and, after some considerable length of time had passed, and the Vizier had not yet appeared, they sent an aide to ascertain the nature of his indisposition.

W hich Aide returned, anon, to announce that he was informed that the Vizier was finishing his “pet eat di junay” and would appear at the nonce.

Upon which the aide proceeded to describe in great detail The Besotted Vizier’s pet eat di junay: A large platter of salted and smoked fish garnished with dried fruits, olives of all sorts; green, black, white, yellow, whole, roasted, steamed and mashed pease; a platter of sliced cold meats: lamb, venison, wild duck, pigeon and goose, with sauces and gravies both h ot and cold; a whole kid roasting on a spit; an abundance of cheeses, melons, berries, fruits and nuts; yogurt and honeyed sweets; samovars of teas and Turkish coffee; various, and sundry potables both for ante and aprés

25 …and when The Dilatory Diplomat’s deliberations had consumed some ten years and a day, the princes became ill-wroth to continue subsidizing his study out of their shrinking treasuries, for they had not practiced peace for centuries and knew not the profit of it; thus the Diplomat’s enforced serenity prevented them from filling their coffers in the time-honored way, that is to say, by pillage and plunder.

Therefore, they gathered together and slew him and his entire retinue, thus fulfilling, indirectly, one of the Diplomat’s vital commissions, that of uniting the princes in a common cause.

The Four Et Ceteras listened with salivatory expectation peppered with resentful pique.

Their growling stomachs well might have overcome their strained decorum or their anger overcome their better discretion, if it were not for a sudden loud and resonant eructation which emanated from the person of none other than the Vizier himself, who entered the tent, wiped his mouth upon his sleeve, pulled up a chair and sat down.

“State your cases!” He peremptorily commanded.

Upon which, The Four Et Ceteras launched into well-practiced and cacophonous litanies quatro una voce of perceived insults and snubs, scandalous imputations, blasphemous-oaths, epithethurlings, disjointed-histories, slaps-in-the-face, felonioushappenstances, double-dealings, traitorous-plots, broken-oaths, unfulfilled-contracts, dubious-alliances, internecine-intrigues, lies, half-lies, half-truths, pillage, plunder, rape, assassination, theft, blackmail, sodomy and other such malevolencies.

The Vizier did his very best to remain serious and solemn. But it was all an unremitting and meaningless buzzing in his ears.

He sat quietly.

Tried to give due attention.

His focus wandered.

He began to absentmindedly remove smallish pieces of lint and dirt that had attached theirselves to his garments. He moved on to other, less sapid, groomings.

Removing dried lachrymae from his eyes.

Glutinous mucoids from his nares

Particles of food from twixt his teeth.

By and by he began to squirm.

Twitch.

Grimace.

Roll his eyes. Stare at the ceiling.

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Tried to evoke a peaceful mental image of a delightful oasis he had passed through on the way to this parley. Dozed off.

Briefly. A number of times!

Abruptly, with the greatest difficulty, he roused himself back to consciousness, rose, and boomed out, “Enough! I have had enough! Bring forth The Officiale Greate Mappe of the Realme. One Copper!”

Upon which The Four Etceteras sent off a guard who scurried away and returned forthwith with a large scroll.

The Vizier got down on all fours, unrolled the map and spread it out on the tent floor, its edges held down by whatever objects were within his grasp.

He rose, walked around the map, viewed it from all angles, stared at it intently, cocked his head, squinted, framed it twixt outstretched thumbs and forefingers, and, finally, reached into the bowels of his garments and withdrew a writing stylus of simple manufacture and a small vial of china black which he opened and into which he dipped the stylus.

Then, kneeling, and without hesitation at one stroke drew a line down the middle of the map, from North to South, and then just as quickly and surely, another, across the middle from East to West.

“Slash! Slash! Finito!” The emissary said simply, as The Four Et Ceteras stood there open-mouthed.

The Vizier went on, stentoriously, with a fanfare:

“Ta ta ra ta ra ta ra! Behold The Four Realms into which I have divided this kingdom according to the authority granted to me by the Mogloré! Live in peace within these bounds or be prepared to suffer the Payne Of Alle Sortes Of Nastie Thynges!”

And with that the Vizier belched and left the tent.

the feaste

After the Vizier had left the tent, The Four Et Ceteras crowded around the map that so nonchalantly divided their kingdoms, approaching it with grumbling and a sense of dread, anticipating An Unforeseen Conclusion To An Already Curious Affair. 26 But, after long, intent, and silent observation, and a great deal of hemming and hewing and huffing and puffing, they reluctantly had to admit to themselves and to one another that, lo and behold, it seemed as equitable a division of the kingdom as is described in “The Golden Kingdom Fragment” from The Chronicle of the Irreproachable Internuncio. 27

And much to their surprise, they dare we say rejoiced, as if a heavy burden had been lifted from them.

There was much slapping of backs.

Bussing of cheeks.

Bye-gones-be-bye-gones.

Tomorrow’s-a-new-days.

And such a deluge of fellow-feeling that they called for a Greate Celebratory Feaste to be prepared.

26 As described in The Parable Of The Dilatory Diplomat

27 …and with all due wisdom, speed and authority the Internuncio drew up a Newe Officialle Greate Mappe of the Realme. One Copper, and thus created the basis for a just and lasting peace, which the people of its dominion and those far abroad, came to call The Peace of the Golden Kingdom.

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after the feaste28

Pipers piped, dancers danced, fiddlers fiddled, and trumpeters trumpeted. Great trays of meat and fowl were served up. Great jugs of mead, flagons of wine, and casks of spirits were drunk.

Many fine and florid toasts were made: to each other, to the Besotted Vizier, to peace and prosperity, to The Newe Official Greate Mappe of the Realm. One Copper, which, for the occasion had been propped up on a carved an d gilded wooden easel illumined by torch and candle.

Then, after the feaste,29 when it came to that time, which always comes in all such celebrations, when the body is full and the plates

28 A traditional time for the telling of The Tales of Pippidufka:

29 AFTER: the feast, fete, ball, dinner, soiree, triumph, bacchanal or similar debauchery

THERETO : in the palace, the castle, the longhouse, the great yurt, the sacred grove, the campfire, the brothel, the parlour or beneath the oasis’ palms.

WHEREFORE : the last toasts made, bawdy songs sunge, japes tolde, backs patted (in comraderie), insults exchanged (in jest), faces slapped (in earneste), glasses throwne (into fyrplaces), plates smashed (over pates.)

WHENCE : the last flagons of wine emptied, jugs of hooche drained, kegs of mead skoaled, dregs of rice wine dredged, balles of opiume vanished into smoke, candied Kif chewed, mushrooms swallowed.

WHEREUNTO : it is AT LAST, time for the slabber and slathere, dribble and droole, disgorgement and expulsion of belches, afflati, groanes, growlinges and such other ejecti of humours as evidence of the infernal disturbances, therein, that, inevitable, are the accompany of suche excesses.

THENCE IT IS: that ye, Bard of Pippidufka (or Balladier, Meistersinger, Raconteur, Jester, Buffoon, Mundunugu, Shaman, Seeress, Hornswaggler whychever guise thou choseth shall emerge upon the stage, strike a gong, a chord, a note, a pose, rap a gavel, ringe a bell or blow a horne and announce loudly to all:

Once Upon a Time!

And if in your wise-dom and experience a suffishient choruse of the traditional response

As Thyse Tales are Tolde

…echoeth back, then ye may deem it safe to begyn thy performanse. from LAO TI Analects of the Pearls of Pei Pei Du Fu Kwa

are empty, when the food and drink and dance and laughter and song had their inevitable, as well as desired, effect, when the hubbub is silenced and an expectant quietude falls upon the proceedings, awaiting interruption by the inevitable yawns, snores, belches, sneezes and flatulences, there came none of those!

Instead, there came a small voice.

Timid.

Hesitant.

Yet insistent. “...but to whom does Pippidufka belong?”

No one answered. The voice became more insistent.

“...but to whom does Pippidufka belong?”

Still no one answered until the voice grew strong enough to finally demand attention.

“...but to whom does Pippidufka belong?”

The Four Etceteras were thus reluctantly compelled one-byone-by-one to raise their heads from their dreamlike stupor, and open their eyes to discover the source of that annoyingly insistent voice, which source, as they one-by-one-by-one became aware, was a scullery lad who stood transfixed before the intricately carved and gilded wooden easel, illumined by torch and candle that held The Newe Officiale Greate Mappe of the Realme. One Copper!

Their curiosity now fatefully aroused, the Four Etceteras, oneby-one-by-one, raised their leaden bodies from their chairs or settees or thrones and stumbled their way to gather around the lad, to see what had so transfixed him.

At first, all they co uld ascertain was that the lad was pointing at something on the map, something towards the middle of the map, something towards that place on the middle of the map where the two lines that divided the realm into four equal parts crossed one another. They might well have stopped, returned to their seats, to their stupor, the remainder of this tale untold, and the fate of

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Pippidufka (at least in this version of the story) might have been a quite different one.30 But the lad, suddenly grown exasperated, found the courage to shout:

“Look! Closer! Look! Look there, you idiots!”

And they did look closer, look there. And what they saw made them forget the insolence of a mere scullery lad.

For, when they looked, very hard, and very carefully, at the place where the two lines crossed, there, beneath those lines, barely discernable, was a tiny dot, just as round as the thickness of the lines that crossed it

and next to it, in letters just as tall as the dot, were the words: pippidufka (populated place)

30 If one believeth the wordes of those scribblers of trew and authentic histories, then events occur one after another until all the miriade possibilities that existed at the first have been exhausted. Then, of course, in that universe, only one thing could possibly happen next, and that is what is left to happen.

On the other hand, if you believeth those few outlandish doctores of alchemy and physiks who contend that our universe is merely one universe inside another inside another, like a nest of wooden dolls, well then, that, is a different story altogether.

Which thought, of course, is a blessing unto the teller of thes e tales, who fearful for the destiny of his mortal bodie if not his mortal soul, must needs have many ‘what happeneth next’s at least one to suit each possible audience.

“Which one is the trew story?” does not matter to him ’cept as a pointe of philosophy.

If it be a lie, or a troothe that alloweth him to live to tell his tale again, then so be it; and if the nature of troothe troubleth him, then, he may give it the lie, and comfort himself with the notion that the tale he telleth may well be the troothe disguised as a lie as much as the telling of a history, may well be a lie a fiction, disguised as the troothe.

from As Thyse Tailles are Tolde SIR JOHN MANDEVILLE

quattré

intermezzi:

The

31 But, just because the words were the same, do not be deluded that their meaning was also. For, each of The Four Et Ceteras have a different tale to tell, and a different turning to take on the road before joining up again at the next crossroads in this tale. As do you, Dear Audience. Now. Tonight. After the feaste. In the longhouse.

So, prithee, dear patrons, what would sit most comfortable on your head tonight? Melodrama? Tragedy? Farce? Mystery? You cannot decide? You would have all? Then, all ye shall have.

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“Pippidufka?”
Four Et Ceteras thought.31

UNO: MELODRAMATICA

“Pippidufka?” the First Etcetera thought.

For him, that name evoked a salivatory anticipation, a flowing of bodily juices to, or from, an organ whose potent effluvium caused men to draw near like flies to a feast to shiny objects made of gold, silver and jewels. For he had heard tales that told Pippidufka was one of five Fabled Cities: one of Ivory, one of Pearls, one of Silver, one of Gold, one of Diamonds, and that he who ruled even the least of them would be wealthy and powerful beyond all imagining.

Exactly the sort of place someone duplicitous might want to wrest from you. Or vice-versa.

DUE: MYSTERIOSO

“Pippidufka?” the Second Etcetera thought. He had never heard of Pippidufka but was sage enough to know he didn’t know enough to know what he ought to think or to feel or how to act. And so, in the meantime, until he knew enough to know what his position ought to be in the forthcoming, and evitable, foo-far-roo, he would watch, listen, and bide his time while his Chamberlain ransacked the Royal Archives for whatever might be gleaned about this place.

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TRE: TRAGICO

“Pippidufka?” the Third Etcetera thought.

The Third Etcetera had heard many childhood tales about a place named Pippidufka.

Could this indeed be that same Pippidufka? A real place, smackdab in the middle of his realm?

And if, indeed, the village exists, and the tales be true, the tales that tell of a backwater, one-horse village, ill-suited for farming, ill-suited for herding, ill-suited for any profitable venture whatsoever, possessing nothing of value either to the world or to its inhabitants poor, inhospitable, chaotic, anarchic, ignorant, stubborn, apathetic, faithless then Pippidufka is exactly the sort of place no one in his right mind would want to have anything to do with. It would drain one’s treasury and bring trouble and woe. Exactly the sort of place someone would try to pawn off on you, someone who held you in small esteem, someone nefarious and double-dealing, someone just like himself.

QUATTRÉ: FARSA

“Pippidufka?” the Fourth Etcetera thought. He had never heard of Pippidufka. His feelings, however, were fear and anxiety. You might well ask why one would harbor such thoughts, knowing nothing at all about the place. And a fair and simple question it is. And the answer is fair and simple. Some men think that things are either there to take or have taken from you.

Pippidufka might be a source of wealth and power, ripe to take or have taken from you, or a bottomless pit of trouble and woe, a place that som eone would be eager to foist upon you, or you to foist upon someone else.

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at the crossroads

And now, Deere Audience, as our players meet up again at the main thoroughfare, it matters little whether or not The Four Et Ceteras believed Pippidufka to be a Pearl or a Canker, a City of Gold or a Hornet’s Nest, whether they had heard of it or not, whether a search of the archives revealed something or nothing. In brief, whether they believed it to be one thing or the other, or the other thing of the one thing or the other, what happens next has been already written down It’s here! Right in front of you, Idiots! Look! Look closer! You’re reading it! and, if it weren’t, it would still be inevitable, if not in the details to which you may feel free to add, embellish, adorn and explicate to thy heart’s content then, at least in its outline and thrust, which goeth something like this:

There will be smiles and handshakes and much bonhomie amongst The Four Etceteras. But, sooner, or later, or, perhaps even as I speak, one of The Four Etceteras The short fat one over there? The cross-eyed one with the lisp, there? The one with the scar on his cheek, across the room? The silent sullen one by the fire? one of these, shall we call him by a nam e? Lord Etcetera the First? he will move closer to one of the others (for consistency’s sake shall we call him Lord Etcetera the Second and-so-forthand-so-on?) and whisper something conspiratorial in his ear.

Such as: “Methinks they will try to steal Pipp idufka from us.”

Or. “Methinks they will try to foist Pippidufka upon us.”

Meantimes, mayhaps a moment before, mayhaps a tock and a tick later, but most certainly in dué time but not tres time as that is how this tale is told, how this dance is danced, Lord Etcetera

the Third will whisper the same-such conspiratorial sweet or sour somethings into the ear of Lord Etcetera the Fourth, whom is, sooner or later, will huddle under the tent flaps with Lord Etcetera the Second, whilst, Lord Etcetera the First, will pull Lord Etcetera the Third off into a dark corner.

And round and round they will go, doing all the steps of this ancient dance, the double-the-cross, circle-the-goat, hedge-yourbet until they have partnered, a’Doo’d and a’Twahed, with all the other dancers and the music comes to a crescendo and a crashing halt. In the bated silence that follows, one of The Four Et Ceteras whichever, whomever will catch his breath and finally utter aloud what acrimonious accusations have heretofore been kept to sullen whispers.

And a new dance begins. In a nonce, they will all have reverted to character and habit, calling into question each other’s morals, behaviors, character, intelligence, prowess, sexual proclivities, religious beliefs, the maternal and parental genealogies of they and their offspring, until the music they dance to is a martial air, a ringing out in the night, a clattering of hooves, a sounding of trumpets, a clanking of shields, hammers on anvils, shouted huzzahs!

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the sounds of war

The Besotted Vizier had graciously declined The Four Et Ceteras invitation to attend The Greate Feaste and Celebration they were preparing, citing as his reason a previous directive from the Mogloré to return immediately after the completio n of his mission.

Of course there was no such directive!

The Besotted Vizier just was full of longing for the open air, the stars above his head, his inlaid Spanish lute in his hands not to mention, the six full skins of Malmsey hanging from his saddle anywhere at all, in fact, that was far away from the cares of statesmanship and the discordancies of warlike men.

In the few days since his departure, he had not traveled far, in fact, if anyone from the encampment of The Four Et Ceteras had shown the slightest desire to seek him out, they could have found him easily, comfortably ensconced in a small clearing, over a rise, just a half-mile away.

No such search was undertaken, however, for as you well know The Four Et Ceteras were preoccupied with other matters, the nature of which became apparent to the Vizier as the Sounds of War32 wafted past him in the clear night air,33 rousing him from a

32 As soon as the ink was dry on The Newe Officiale Greate Mappe of the Realme. One Copper, the Punctilious Plenipotentiary gave the signal to decamp. Which his retinue did, at the same amazing speed aformatting pand practiced proficiency with which, at first, upon their arrival, they erected The City of Paper and Dust.

But, now, the first to leave, was he, who was the last, at the first, the lone straggler, the Castellan who, this time, instead of locking the gate behind him last, unlocked it first, placed the key safely in his tunic mounted his rather bedraggled donkey, and set off towards the horizon.

quite pleasant intoxication brought on by the contents of a once full wineskin that, now, lay empty, on the ground, by his side.

His first instinct, no doubt stemming from his annoyance at this unwanted disturbance of his bucolic reveries, was to say to himself, “Idiots! To hell with them.”

But that was his first instinct, for, despite his other foibles and faults, he was at heart a conscientious and honest fellow, who, though in truth, cared little about the fate of the Four Et Ceteras, considering them little more than well-armed ruffians, knew that if the Mogloré’s wrath were to be unleashed, it would be, as it always

Of course, if judged by the pace at which he and his mount were traveling, they might as well have had one leg between them rather than six, for it was obvious to anyone who cared to watch, that the rest of the caravan would eventually overtake him, so that, at last, it could be said that he, who was, at the last, at the first, and then, first, at the last, would be, at last, once again, not first, but last, and, thus, would be the first to hear the sounds of war coming from the camp of The Four Lords Et Cetera.

Unfortunately, by then, the first of the caravan would have had already entered the Gates of the Capital. And, thus, faced with this literary fait accompli, any thoughts by this, or any other Bard for that matter, of having the caravan do an about-face and return to the realm of The Four Et Ceteras, to see if what was broken could be fixed, once again for in truth, the Punctilious Plenipotentiary, despite his icy mien, had little taste for Nastie Thynges are now rendered moot by the black mood into which the Sultan would have fallen when those self-same sounds of war had reached his ears.

The Sultan not being the sort of absolute despotic ruler who stood by quietly when his edikts were being so blatantly ignored, ordered a great army to be gathered and dispatched to that distant realm, this time, to solve his “problem” once, and for all time. His strategy? Simply this: Slaying The Four Et Ceteras in the most horrific way imaginable. Razing their castles. Villas. Dachas. Generally making the countryside unlivable and the lives of the country-folk even more unbearable than they already were. And finally, as a precautionary measure, to remove all traces of Siddi Ba’aaka and its people from human memory. “And the Last, Shall be First, at Last.” From The Punctilious Plenipotentiary

33 The sounds of war travel at varying speeds, depending upon many factors… Temperature…Humidity…Wind speed…and …oh, yes… whether or not anyone is listening.

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was, the conscripts, peasants and other innocents who would suffer the most.

So the Vizier rose reluctantly, dusted himself off and began to collect his necessaries saddle, reins, and the other such accoutrements which were to be found strewn about his makeshift camp.

This done, he saddled up his steed whose snort of annoyance at being similarly disturbed in the midst of his equine reveries, was not unreminiscent of his master’s took one final swig (nay, if truth be told, two or three) from the wineskin and rode off straightway towards the encampment of The Four Et Ceteras.

When he could see the gathered mass of men and horse before him, he unfurled the Royal Pennant, held up his left hand which bore the Royal Signet upon his forefinger and rode into their midst, a somewhat wobbly Centaur at full gallop, shouting:

“Make way for the Emissary of the Mogloré! Make way for the Emissary of the Mogloré!”

And the massed armies, startled by the strange apparition, did so, parting ranks and opening a path for the Vizier to ride directly to the center of the storm.

reprise

The Besotted Vizier had arrived not one whit too soon. The Four Etceteras with their armies arrayed behind them, stood eyeball-toeyeball like four great contending hordes of rampaging red ants, antennae-to-antennae, pulsating, poised for the signal to begin the carnage.

Reining his steed to a stop, he dismounted, interjected himself between The Four Et Ceteras and declared in a deep sonorous voice:

“Stop this idiocy at once! Are you mad?! Do you think the Mogloré will not carry out his threats? Remember ye not Alle Sortes of Nastie Thynges!?”

And thereupon the Vizier repeated the litany of horrors 34, as he had done upon his earlier arrival, replete with pantomime and sound effects, in the most, to remind The Four Etceteras of the grisly details, but, also in part it must be said because the Vizier relished in the performance of it.

34 “Which performance may be inserted herein ‘at the mood and discretion of the Bard. All others may continue at will.’ ” ST. JOHN MERRIEWEATHER

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a safe returne35

After the Vizier finished his monologue, an eerie silence descended upon the entire gathering, man and beaste alike.

“I see,” said the Vizier. “Then perhaps someone could kindly explain to me what this is all about?”

35 St. John Merrieweather’s Lecture Regarding the Sayfe Returne. A sayfe returne. Yes, a small thynge, prosake and common tho’ it be, whyche none-the-less it must be said, ought be the goale of the Guide as well as the Traveler.

The road the Bard doth take is of the utmost importance.

Not just to pleaseth his owne sense of pryde in professionne, accomplishment in a taske well-undertaken and well-completed and alle the other sortes of naturally virtuous, praise-worthy and well-meante motives. But, even more so, it must be saide, frome a highly developed and fervent desire for selfe preservation.

For, it is precisely the tale-tellers’ skills at narrative navigation, upon wyche his hyde more oft than his pryde dependeth, so that he might, so to speake, turn his tale and return his taile to tell a tale again.

Doth ye understande the meaning of my wordes, my colleagues?

By all the gods, my deare fellows, mine Herren, Signorinis, Monsoors, Saheebs or Bawanas; needs I spell it out letter-by-letter for thee?

Considering thee the afters, theretos, wherefores, whences, whereuntos, and thences of. Then also, consider thee thus this troothe, wyche though not proven to be universal, ought yet, in this matter, best be considered suche, which troothe is, namely:

“Some men at some times in some places will, upon the hearyng of a thynge whyche to their ear be unpleasant, unwanted and unwarranted, these sorte oft will, rather than express their dissatisfactiones in that manner, which thankes be to The Gods, has comme to serve as a modele for polite and civile society, will, instead, drawe their sword, scimitar, snee, kris, club, mace, battle-axe or rock, and, quite simply, run ye through, slash ye to bits, club thy braynes out and much of the such same.”

And they sang their martial air á derriere (arse -backwards) starting with the last, the insults and aspersions cast upon their various lineages

“That’s what this is about?” asked the Besotted Vizier.

“Not exactly,” they replied after a moment’s silence. And they sang of the aspersions cast upon their beliefs and morals.

“So that is it?”

“Not entirely,” they replied.

And then they sang of the aspersions cast upon their sexual proclivities That? No! their intelligence That? No! prowess That? No! and so forth and so on, until, at the last, they came to the first!

“Pippidufka!” The Four Et Ceteras exclaimed in one voice.

“Pippidufka?” the Vizier asked.

And then he was told the story of the Greate Celebration, the scullery lad and the map.

“So bring forth the The Officiale Greate Mappe of the Realme. One Copper!” The Vizier comm anded Which they did.

And at first he too could see nothing. But The Four Et Ceteras insisted, “Look closer. Look there!” And indeed, when the Vizier looked closer looked there where the two lines he had drawn crossed, there, beneath, was a tiny dot, just as round as the thickness of the lines that crossed it

and next to it, in letters just as tall as the dot, were the words:

pippidufka (populated place)

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The Vizier stared intently at the map for an achingly intense moment. A quizzical look and a barely perceptible smile suddenly appeared on his face. Swiftly, with gasps of shock from The Four Et Ceteras, the Vizier folded the map sharply along the line running from North to South, and then again, along the line running from East to West, and where the two folds met, he tore off the corner and placed the remnant in his pocket.

The Vizier ceremoniously unfolded the map, which of course, now had an oddly-shaped symmetrical hole in its center, smoothed it out and asked

“Now, what was it you were fighting over?”

“Pippidufka?” They said.

“Pippidufka?” the Vizier asked. “Show me where Pippidufka is!” he ordered, pointing to the map.

“We can’t, “they replied. “It’s in your pocket!”

“Pippidufka is in my pocket!?”

“No! The piece of paper is in your pocket!”

“You’re fighting over a piece of paper in my pocket?”

“No! The village on the piece of paper in your pocket!”

“There’s a village on a piece of paper in my pocket?”

At that there was a stymied silence. A pause.

And then, the smooth sound of metal on metal as The Four Etceteras drew their swords partways out of their scabbards and demanded, “What if we slew you before you could report to the Mogloré? What then?”

The Vizier realized it was time to put and end to this affair, for, he knew well from Lao Ti’s Analects: Or The Pearles of Pei Pei du fu Kwa, the constant dangers inherent in the art of persuasion.

So, he spoke in a voice that was deep and loud and cut through the night air like a bolt of lightning.

“It is a fair question and it deserves a fair answer, an answer that everyone here (he waved his arms to indicate the armed men that surrounded them) should hear. If you slay me, you brainless asses, the Mogloré will hear of it and thus doubly vexed will not only cause Nastie Thynges to fall upon your heads, but also those of your ladies, your soldiers, your servants (the mass of men began to grumble) And while he’s at it, he will raze your Castles! Villas! Dachas! Estates! (the grumbling grew louder) Slay your horses! Cattle! Sheep! Swine! Goats! Fowl! Salt your fields! Poison your wells! Dam your rivers! Burn your forests. In general, he will make the countryside unlivable and the lives of those still breathing even more unbearable than they already are.”

The Four Et Ceteras sheathed their swords.

“So,” the Vizier went on, softly, “Unless you want it to be said that you suffered Nastie Thynges for the sake of a place you can’t even find on a map, I suggest you draw down your armies, break camp, return to your kingdoms, and live in peace. One more thing,” the Vizier added, “When you have returned to your realms you will order that your archives be scoured for any mention of Pippidufka, and, whether in word or in image, whether on paper or on stone, you shall destroy them and order no mention be made of that place for all time.”

And, at that, The Four Et Ceteras, finally brought to heel, gave the orders to decamp and depart.

This time the Vizier waited until he was sure they were all well gone and he was, at last, once again, alone under the stars, with his horse, his lute, and what was left in the wineskins that hung from his saddle.

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the greate emptiness

And it is said, to this day in that self-same kingdom, far, far away, on their maps, in the center of their realms, is an oddly-shaped symmetrical area, described only as The Greate Unspeakable Emptiness into which no one dares to travel. And, that dear Audience is the reason why, to this day, you cannot find Pippdufka on a map. (It all depends who is telling the taille.)36

36 “The Emperor’s avenging army arrived at Pei Pei du fu Kwa, the village was intact but devoid of all signs of life: no people, no animals, no furnishings, no clothing, no food-stuffs, nothing, except for what seemed to have been a series of wagon tracks leading off in all directions and nowhere. And, if contemporaneous accounts and the memoirs of old men are to be believed, a hastily hand-painted sign nailed to a tree that read: Alas! Weep for Pei Pei du fu Kwa!” The End of Pei Pei du fu Kwa

OR:

“...and when the Sultan’s army arrived at Siddi Ba’aaka they found that the village had already been burnt to the ground and all of its inhabitant’s slain.” The End of Siddi ba’aaka

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