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How Eurmal Lost His Stick

The Red Moon
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by Bruce Ferrie

One day, when Eurmal was dressing, he found something unexpected in his trousers. It was a stick, and Eurmal was very pleased with it. It was long and it was hard and it felt just right when he held it in his hand. He was so pleased that he almost didn't leave his house at all that day. In the end, though, the novelty of playing with his stick wore off and he decided to find something useful that he could do with it.

First, he tried to use it to help the warriors with their weapons practice, but he was soon discouraged after Elmal bashed it with his shield. Besides, all the warriors had laughed and said it wasn't as impressive as their swords.

Next, he tried to use it to help Barntar plough the fields, but all this did was bash the end of his stick up even more. Besides, his stick wasn't really big enough to make a decent furrow.

Finally, he used it to stir the stew pot at the feasting hall, but the stew was too hot and it scalded his stick. Besides, everyone complained that Eurmal's stick had made the stew taste funny. So Orlanth hit Eurmal on the head and threw him out into the cold.

Eurmal decided that he was fed up with trying to do useful things with his stick. He was bored with playing with it on his own, though. So he went to find someone else to play with it.

First, he showed it to Voria. "Would you like to play with my stick?" he asked. But Voria was not interested at all. In fact, she screamed out loud that the last thing she was interested in was his horrible stick!

Vinga heard Voria shouting and came to see what the fuss was. Eurmal had always liked her, though she didn't like him much at all. He showed his stick to Vinga. "Would you like to play with my stick?" he asked. But Vinga was not interested at all. In fact, she hit him very hard in a sensitive place. Eurmal sat down and began to cry. "No one is interested in my tick!" he wailed. "I will always have to play with it on my own!"

Vinga smiled and looked at Eurmal with what he deluded himself into thinking was pity. "Listen, Eurmal," she said. "I know someone who would love to play with your stick. But I'm not sure you'd really want her to." Eurmal leaped up. "Oh, I do," he cried. "I really want to meet your friend. Is it Redalda? I've always liked her and I'm sure she'd like to ride my stick more than any horse!" But Vinga told him that it was not Redalda. "Perhaps we had best not," she said. "I'm not sure you'll like the same games she does." Vinga began to walk away.

Eurmal was sure, though, and he followed her. "I really, really want to meet your friend," he said. "Is it Roitina? I've always liked her, and I'm sure that I can show her some fine new dances with my stick." But Vinga told him that it was not Roitina. "Perhaps we had best not," she said. "I'm not sure you'll like the same games she does."

Eurmal was still sure, though, and he still followed her. "I really, really, really want to meet your friend," he said. "Is it - " and Eurmal went quiet then, for he noticed that Vinga had stopped, leaving him to walk on ahead into a dark hole in the earth. Suddenly, he had a very bad feeling.

Vinga smiled and now even Eurmal could not delude himself into thinking this was pity. "Yes, it's Babeester Gor." And at that very moment, the Earth's avenger herself leaped out and chopped off Eurmal's stick with her axe. And she picked it up, and she laughed and she hung it above the door of her home.

Eurmal wailed and ran outside. He complained to Vinga that this really wasn't what he'd had in mind. But Vinga told him: "I did try to warn you, and you were so sure. It's not my fault that you tricked yourself into playing a game you didn't like!"

And Eurmal bemoaned his fate. "It's no wonder they call me the Trickster," he cried. "I even trick myself!"

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