"Rudy Rucker - Hieronymus Bosch's Apprentice" - читать интересную книгу автора (Rucker Rudy)

Hieronymus Bosch's Apprentice
by Rudy Rucker


Story Copyright (C) 2007,Rudy Rucker.
Original images Copyright (C) 2007, Rudy Rucker.
6,200 Words.



Once inside the town wall, Azaroth swung the boat into a little canal that wended its way through the
town, passing under round-arched bridges and along back yards verdant with vegetables. Bosch’s house
wasn’t far.

Azaroth moored his boat beside a tiny dinghy tied up by a garden. He put a likely offering of fish into a
smaller basket, tossed a cloth over the remainder, then led Jayjay and Thuy through the garden of turnips
and carrots, past a cellar door, and up three steps into Jeroen Bosch’s kitchen.

It was a large room, the ceiling and three of the walls covered with smooth white plaster. The inner brick
wall held a fireplace adorned with stone carvings of skinny dogs with needle teeth and bat wings. The
dogs’ long tails branched into curling ferns that held up a mantelpiece upon which a freshly roasted
chicken cooled.

Dark-varnished planks of wood made up the floor. The ceiling was painted with an elaborately twining
squash vine adorned with birds and beasties peeping from behind each flower and leaf. Counters and
cupboards lined the walls, with a sturdy wooden table beside a window.

Two women sat at the table: a plump servant girl peeling carrots and turnips, and a lean, gray-haired
woman wearing a white linen cap and a bright yellow silk dress. Her air of self-possession made it clear
that she was Bosch’s wife and the lady of house.

“Good day, Mevrouw Aleid,” said Azaroth with a bow to her. “I have a fine fat fish for you, also a tasty
eel. ” Thuy and Jayjay stood behind Azaroth, peeping out. He drew the dogfish from his basket and held
it up. “And I’ve brought this fellow to model for the master.”

“That’s very good of you, Azaroth,” said Aleid, with a cool smile. “But we didn’t know you’d be
delivering fish. We’ve already cooked for tonight.”

“Eat my catch tonight,” suggested Azaroth. “Have the chicken cold tomorrow.”

Just then Aleid’s eyes picked out Jayjay and Thuy. Abruptly she crossed herself. “Get the knife,
Kathelijn!” she cried.

The red-cheeked young maid sprang to her feet, ran back towards the hearth and snatched up a long,
skinny boning knife. Aleid, too, hastened to the far side of the room and turned, watching for a move
from the strangers.

“These are just my cousins from the Garden of Eden,” said Azaroth nudging them into the open. “Jayjay
and Thuy. Fortunately they speak good Brabants.”