My most trusted companion in this harsh land, a battered old flask bearing the mark of evil, 13. From this curious ally, a cool and quenching sip I took, and to the curious stranger sat across me, shook my head did I. "You take me such a fool?"

The merchant laid hand upon my shoulder, and softly he did laugh. "Oh, ye of little faith, the proof I have brought here!"

He unshouldered his overstuffed pack, brushed drink and food aside, and with a great clatter the pack crashed to the table. Many a head turned, and some still lingered as the merchant said to me "Of course, I will reveal to you my relic, and to the satisfaction of your scrutiny it shall be judged, but first my story you must hear."

Said I, "You've told it twice now, old man. Neither more believable."

Said he, "Ah, but twice in your earshot and a hundred times outside your little world, I spoke not half of what I saw! Now, just for you, shall I deliver my full testimony." And with wretched cough, the merchant did plea "Though for my dry and aching throat, a drink! To speak at length in such sorry state would be a task fit only for the old heroes."

Who still listened laughed, and lost interest in this swindler. But for lack of other amusement and for a weighty purse, I fetched for him a cup of cool water, and bought for him a mite of spirits.

Said he with much disappointment, "Obliged." And so did he throw back his head and with it the liqour bought of my coin, and without so much as a glance to his water did he regale.

"Beyond the edge of the desert Abril, bandits did force my flight. Through great and biting storms of the desert, I marched blind and aimless. Days this was, no sleep for fear of a natural burial, until at once the winds ceased. The sand fell as a beast gored, and laid still. About me, the low and level sands stretched far away, but for one blemish. A plinth of adamant, glistening and gold, a holy light of blue about it. Upon the plinth, two trunkless legs bronzed of hue and soft to the touch stood. As my hand ran down one godly thigh, at my feet did a cold and sneering face cry,

'Hey, no touchy! Do you even know who I am? I'm Ozymembium! Y'know, Queen of Queens? Get bent, you creepy old fuck!'

"Nothing beside remained, round that beautiful wreck, boundless and bare skinned."

He then partook of his water, and said I, "What dialect is this? Not of the Northern tongue, nor the Southern. Know little do I the Eastern ways, but doubtful am I that a people so isolated and austere could cobble pidgin so."

The merchant did laugh, and so too he shrugged, "So says she, it's a tongue 'English', though as you I've never heard of such."

My head cocked, said I, "Said more, did she?"

The merchant did nod, and unfasten the flap of that overfilled pack. "Indeed! Every night she speaks, every day she tries, though for fear of my health I silence her when about."

Said I, prepared for some jape, "Show me this 'Ozymembium', old man."

With a showman's flourish did he wave his hand, and with great pomp he dug about that bag. My patience stretched as the string of a bow, ready I was to beat the old man for a waste of my time and my coin. Until then at once the visage was produced, bronze of skin and gold of hair, eyes which glowed as the sun but bearing a green light, between red painted lips a balled up old rag, and beneath her chin a jagged metal and a rainbow of cord. The visage blinked, and those eyes aglow bore on me. For naught but a visage held by an old man, I recoiled. She sneered, and a muffled sound produced. She was alive, a goddess of metal divine.

Said I, "And what of the legs?"

Said he with a shrug, "These were already sold, a priestess of some church wished to worship at the feet of this god, to wash and to kiss and give tender embrace along with her congregation. In truth, head and legs were sold as one, but as I readied myself to depart, an acolyte of the priestess returned to me the head and the coin for which it was worth. The God's harsh tongue was of no use to the priestess, should then it lead her congregation astray? And so here I have come, bearing head of a god, and shall you pay, exalted one?"

Said I, "Forty pieces gold and a strong mule for your burdens."

The head of the god made muffled cry, an affronted gaze was cast with those luminous green eyes.

Said he, "Your generosity is without end, I accept!"

He parted with my coin, and mule of my own stable, and depart did I with this godly head. To learn of her secrets, to worship and to care for her heavenly visage, to study her ancient tongue, and perhaps to share in carnal relations.

Of course, I jest.

Unless...?