I’m having far too much fun with ‘The Incorruptibles’ to
polish it off quickly and it has been a while since I dipped into the worlds of
Clark Ashton Smith so… The end result is another brief journey into the dark
woods of medieval Averoigne and a young monk’s journey to expose an evil prelate…
'By the Ram with a Thousand Ewes! By the Tail of Dagon and the Horns of
Derceto!' said Azédarac, as he fingered the tiny, pot-bellied vial of vermilion
liquid on the table before him. 'Something will have to be done with this
pestilential Brother Ambrose. I have now learned that he was sent to Ximes by
the Archbishop of Averoigne for no other purpose than to gather proof of my
subterraneous connection with Azazel and the Old Ones. He has spied upon my
evocations in the vaults, he has heard the hidden formulae, and beheld the
veritable manifestation of Lilit, and even of Iog-Sotôt and Sodagui, those
demons who are more ancient than the world; and this very morning, an hour
agone, he has mounted his white ass for the return journey to Vyones. There are
two ways — or, in a sense, there is one way — in which I can avoid the bother
and inconvenience of a trial for sorcery: the contents of this vial must be
administered to Ambrose before he has reached his journey's end — or, failing
this, I myself shall be compelled to make use of a similar medicament.'
Beautiful writing (I wish I could curse like that, the world
would be a much better place if everyone cursed like that) but, as an opening paragraph,
it feels a little clumsier than what I’m used to from Ashton Smith. We’re being
told what’s going on here, instead of being shown, and it feels forced. This
issue crops up here and there, over the rest of the tale, but the language gets
the reader through these tough patches and then we’re away.
‘In the oblique rays,
the elongated webs of shadow wrought by the dying afternoon, the forest seemed
to attend with bated breath the noisome and furtive passing of innominable things.
Nevertheless, Ambrose had met no-one for miles…’
Brother Ambrose is making his way through the forest of
Averoigne with as much haste as he can (if I was a Bishop entrusting someone
with an important mission, the last thing I’d do is make them ride a donkey…)
and I loved the way that Ashton Smith crowds the forest with phantasms brought
on by what Ambrose had witnessed previously. We’ve seen in previous Averoigne
stories that the forest holds dangers but Ashton Smith shows us that nothing is
so dangerous as the fear we make for ourselves. This move builds things up
nicely until the moment when Ambrose is finally caught by the agent of Azedarac
and finds himself…
And here’s the thing, I don’t want to give anything away as
Ashton Smith takes a story that was clearly going to end either one way or
another and gives it an ending that comes straight out of left field. An ending
that resolves absolutely nothing important in the plot but gives us a good
insight into the universe Ashton Smith writes in. Good or evil, whatever you
strive for can be taken from your grasp just like that and for no reason other
than a passing fancy of either the gods or cosmic fate. Ambrose isn’t
complaining too much by the end and you can’t blame him given what he has had
to endure; at least Ashton Smith gives him that.
If you want to read ‘The Holiness of Azedarac’ yourself (and
why not, it’s free) then you should be clicking right Here.
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