As
they traveled, the emissary briefed the constructors on the laws and customs
prevailing in the Kingdom of Krool, told them of the monarch's nature, as
broad and open as a leveled city, and of his manly pursuits, and much more, so
that by the time the ship landed, they could speak the language like natives.
First they were taken to a splendid villa situated on a mountainside
above the village--this was where they were to stay. Then, after a brief rest,
the King sent a carriage for them, a carriage drawn by six fire-breathing
monsters. These were muzzled with fire screens and smoke filters, had their
wings clipped to keep them on the ground, and long spiked tails and six paws
apiece with iron claws that cut deep pits in the road wherever they went. As
soon as the monsters saw the constructors, the entire team set up a howl,
belching fire and brimstone, and strained to get at them. The coach men in
asbestos armor and the King's huntsmen with hoses and pumps had to fall upon
the crazed creatures and beat them into submission with laser and maser clubs
before Trurl and Klapaucius could safely step into the plush carriage, which
they did without a word. The carriage tore off at breakneck speed or--to use
an appropriate metaphor--like a bat out of hell.
"You know," Trurl whispered in Klapaucius' ear as they
rushed along, knocking down everything in their path and leaving a long trail
of sulfurous smoke behind them, "I have a feeling that this king won't
settle for just anything. I mean, if he has coursers like these..."
But level-headed Klapaucius said nothing. Houses now flashed by,
walls of diamonds and sapphires and silver, while the dragons thundered and
hissed and the drivers cursed and shouted. At last a colossal portcullis
loomed up ahead, opened, and their carriage whirled into the courtyard,
careening so sharply that the flower beds all shriveled up, then ground to a
stop before a castle black as blackest night. Welcomed by an unusually dismal
fanfare and quite overwhelmed by the massive stairs, balustrades and
especially the stone giants that guarded the main gate, Trurl and Klapaucius,
ranked by a formidable escort, entered the mighty castle.
King Krool awaited them in an enormous hall the shape of a skull, a
vast and vaulted cave of beaten silver. There was a gaping pit in the floor,
the skul1's foramen magnum, and beyond it stood the throne, over which two
streams of light crossed like swords--they came from high windows fixed in the
skull's eye sockets and with panes specially tinted to give everything a harsh
and infernal aspect. The constructors now saw Krool himself: too impatient to
sit still on his throne, this monarch paced from wall to wall across the
silver floor, his steps booming in that cadaverous cavern, and as he spoke he
emphasized his words with such sudden stabs of the hand, that the air
whistled.
Translated by Michael Kandel, Harcourt Brace
A full version of this story (and some others) is available
at the locations:
http://www.rpi.edu/~sofkam/lem
]
