The coincidence of Its excessively bizarre aspect and Its innate gift of mimicry had impressed the sacred brothers as offering vast possibilities, hence in the end they had set It up as a god and an oracle, organising a new brotherhood to serve It-and incidentally to suggest the edicts It should utter and the replies It should give. It obviously belonged somewhere in the outer abyss, but had blundered into Zeth one night and suffered capture by the shamith priests. Oorn, though a creature of extremely doubtful nature, was the virtual ruler of Zeth. Clearly, there was nothing to do but consult Oorn, and Oorn was a highly portentous being. This was a very grave matter, and would have to be met in a very prompt and serious way. The indifference of the small creatures in the cracks between the flagstones could not spread itself to him. There had been no accountings since Kishan the old keeper had died many moon-turns before, and great was Yalden’s dismay to find this emptiness instead of the expected wealth.
When, at last, the giphath Yalden entered that obscure vault and discovered the thefts, there were left only some phlegmatic rats which peered sharply at him as at an alien intruder. No shining phrulder, as of old, lay stacked about the strong-room and over empty coffers the sardonic spider wove webs of mocking design. Through the cleverly concealed dishonesty of an aged but shrewd official, the treasury was exhausted. Nor, simply because Zeth lies on a planet of strange beasts and stranger vegetation, did this incident differ greatly from what might have occurred in London or Paris or any of the great governing towns we know. There had happened in the teeming and many-towered city of Zeth one of those incidents which are prone to take place in all capitals of all worlds.
⁓The Voice before the Void “The Hoard of The Wizarrd-Beast” H.P. Subscribe: Apple Podcasts | Google Podcasts | RSS
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