Other defenses must also be perfected: namely those resources to be derived from Lucounu's shelves.

Returning to the great hall, he consumed the repast set forth by Jince and Skivvee, his two comely stewardesses, then immediately applied himself to his studies. Tonight they concerned themselves with the Spell of Forlorn Encystment, a reprisal perhaps more favored in earlier eons than the present, and the Agency of Far Despatch, by which Lucounu had transported him to the northern wastes. Both spells were of no small power; both required a bold and absolutely precise control, which Cugel at first feared he would never be able to supply. Nevertheless he persisted, and at last felt able to encompass either the one or the other, at need.

Two days later it was as Cugel had expected: a rap at the front door which, when Cugel flung wide the portal, indicated the unwelcome presence of Fianosther.

“Good day,” said Cugel cheerlessly. “I am indisposed, and must request that you instantly depart.”

Fianosther made a bland gesture. “A report of your distressing illness reached me, and such was my concern that I hastened here with an opiate. Allow me to step within” — so saying he thrust his portly figure past Cugel — “and I will decant the specific dose.”

“I suffer from a spiritual malaise,” said Cugel meaningfully, “which manifests itself in outbursts of vicious rage. I implore you to depart, lest, in an uncontrollable spasm, I cut you in three pieces with my sword, or worse, invoke magic.”

Fianosther winced uneasily, but continued in a voice of unquenchable optimism. “I likewise carry a potion against this disorder.” He brought forth a black flask. “Take a single swallow and your anxieties will be no more.”

Cugel grasped the pommel of his sword. “It seems that I must speak without ambiguity. I-command you: depart, and never return! I understand your purpose and I warn you that you will find me a less indulgent enemy than was Lucounu! So now, be off! Or I inflict upon you the Spell of the Macroid Toe, whereupon the signalized member swells to the proportions of a house.”

“Thus and so,” cried Fianosther in a fury. “The mask is torn aside! Cugel the Clever stands revealed as an in-grate! Ask yourself: who urged you to pillage the manse of Lucounu? It was I, and by every standard of honest conduct I should be entitled to a share of Lucounu's wealth!”

Cugel snatched forth his blade. “I have heard enough; now I act.”

“Hold!” And Fianosther raised high the black flask. “I need only hurl this bottle to the floor to unloose a puru-lence, to which I am immune. Stand back, then!”

But Cugel, infuriated, lunged, to thrust his blade through the upraised arm. Fianosther called out in woe, and flung the black bottle into the air. Cugel leapt to catch it with great dexterity; but meanwhile, Fianosther, jumping forward, struck him a blow, so that Cugel staggered back and collided with the glass tube containing Lucounu. It toppled to the stone and shattered; Lucounu crept painfully away from the fragments.