The Stranger's Woes (36 page)

BOOK: The Stranger's Woes
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“Are you all right, hon?” said a beautiful red-haired woman rushing down from her post behind the bar. Her violet eyes were filled with such tenderness that Melifaro and I both sighed with jealousy.

“No, no. I’m quite all right. I’m used to knocking over this chair. I do think it stands too close to the entrance,” said Lookfi.

This reassured the beautiful Varisha. She gave us a kind smile and told us that her chef had been instructed to charm us with his culinary skills. She returned to her post behind the bar, and Sir Lookfi invited us to sit at a cozy table by the far wall of the dining hall. It took us only a few minutes to persuade him to keep us company. A moment later the chef brought in a tray with food. As far as I could tell, the food here was on par with the food at the
Glutton Bunba
.

Rulen Bagdasys, who had been left to his own devices for a time, blustered and swaggered and then grew shy by turns. He gobbled down the contents of the plates in front of him, but the expression on his face was that of a person who was being poisoned. He was quiet for about thirty minutes, but after that he could no longer contain himself.

“You call this turkey? Are you out of your freaking minds? Who’s the moron who—”

Melifaro leaped up in shock and covered Rulen’s mouth with his hand. Rulen had to choke back the rest of his utterance.

“Is this man with you, gentlemen?” asked Lookfi.

“Unfortunately, yes,” I said. “Sir Anchifa Melifaro just returned from a world cruise and brought back a present for his younger brother. How do you like him?”

“A present?” said Lookfi. “But it is prohibited to own slaves in the Unified Kingdom. Only servants.”

“To my profound regret, he’s neither slave, nor servant,” said Melifaro. “He’s a petty household disaster.”

“Oh, I thought the gentleman just happened to be sitting at our table. I am sorry, sir, that I have been neglecting you all along.”

Rulen Bagdasys opened his mouth. He saw Melifaro’s clenched fist hovering dangerously close to his large nose, and nodded without saying a word. Then he sat quietly for a while, and the tension in the air dissolved. Melifaro and Lookfi picked apart the two new policemen who were at the top on our White List: Lieutenant Apurra Blookey and Lady Kekki Tuotli. They also didn’t fail to mention Lieutenant Chekta Jax, whose mental abilities left him no hope of ever making it to our top dozen—though combining his brawn with someone else’s wit, according to my colleagues, could be very fruitful. I listened to this with half an ear and grieved over the fact that I hadn’t had the chance to meet the new heroes of the City Police Department personally.

“It’s not that you have been too busy,” said Melifaro. “They could have stopped by your office and introduced themselves. That’s the way it’s usually done. But you see, they are a little shy. Probably scared of you, too. You know, Nightmare, that’s the best shortcut to fame: stir things up big time, and then disappear for a year. By the time you return, you’re already a living legend. Say, was that why you disappeared?”

“But of course,” I said. “Why else would I disappear? I’ve always wanted to become a legend. Since I was a kid. And, mind you, a
living
legend. By the way, where’s the precious token of your brother’s esteem and affection? Where did your family treasure go?”

Rulen Bagdasys no longer graced our table. Maybe he had grown bored with our chatting about work and left to find adventure.

“Huh? Beats me,” said Melifaro, looking around. “Well, it’s all for the best, anyway. If he gets lost, I’ll inherit a hundred dozen pairs of red tights from his luggage. He left his stuff at my place. I just hope he won’t remember where I live. On second thought, I think the poor fellow is still here. Is someone taking a pounding in that part of the hall, or what?”

“A pounding?” said Lookfi. “No one takes a pounding in my tavern. The
Fatman
is a respectable establishment.”

“It
was
a respectable establishment,” said Melifaro. “Until tonight. You shouldn’t have been so persuasive with your invitation, Lookfi. Now, we’ve ruined your tavern’s reputation. Oh, look! It
is
a fight!”

“Baan!” Lookfi shouted in distress. “Varisha, where’s Baan? There’s a fight going on there.”

“I know, hon,” his better half answered from behind the bar. “Baan is already dealing with it. Some customers had a little quarrel with that funny man that arrived with your friends. Did you just notice? They’ve been going at it for quite a while now.”

“Is this man really with you, or is he lying to me?” A short but sturdy man was looking askance at my Mantle of Death. He dragged the Isamonian by his ear over to our table. Rulen had been fairly roughed up, and his left eye was turning, slowly but surely, black and blue.

“Unfortunately, he’s not lying,” said Melifaro. “What happened to him?”

The short man looked at Lookfi uncertainly.

“Don’t be afraid, Baan,” said Lookfi. “You did the right thing. Now, tell us what happened.”

“Well, two ladies caught this gentleman’s fancy, and he decided to introduce himself to them. The ladies were surprised and told him that they’d come here to eat, not to seek a partner. He insisted on joining them and sat down at their table. The ladies began to protest, and that attracted the attention of some other customers. They tried to explain to your guest that his behavior was unacceptable, but he wouldn’t listen. Then he started grabbing the ladies. Lady Varisha called me, and I had to use force. If you only knew what kind of language he used in front of the ladies, sir. I grew up by the port, and you know what kind of people you run into there, but I swear I’d never heard anything like that before in my life.”

“What kinds of things was he saying?” asked Lookfi.

I was dying to know myself, and Melifaro was already groaning and laughing in anticipation.

“I’m sorry, boss, but I can’t repeat such foul obscenities. Let him tell you himself.”

“That’s quite all right, my friend. You may go now,” said Lookfi. Then he turned back to us. “I think there must have been some misunderstanding.”

“That son-of-a-gun hit me!” said Rulen Bagdasys.

“Figures,” said Melifaro. “You’re lucky I wasn’t there. Lookfi, I think we’d better leave now. Next time we drop by, we’ll come without this skirt-chaser, I promise you.”

“If you feel lonely, you should go to the Quarter of Trysts,” Lookfi said to Rulen.

“The Quarter of Trysts? What is it? What is it? Tell me!” said Rulen Bagdasys.

I pictured this funny, fat-bottomed man becoming someone’s “destiny,” if only for a night. This should have been amusing, but my good mood had been completely ruined. Sometimes I take other people’s troubles too close to heart.

 

Half an hour later we took leave of Lookfi (who was falling asleep) and his wonderful wife. Rulen Bagdasys demanded that we take him to the Quarter of Trysts right that very minute.

“You can’t go there with a black eye,” Melifaro lied. “So you’re going to have to wait it out.”

The Isamonian became visibly upset. A few minutes later I pulled up by Melifaro’s house on the Street of Gloomy Clouds.

“Want to stay at my place?” said Melifaro. “Yours probably looks like a Mutinous Magician’s playground right now.”

“It probably does,” I said. “Thank you, pal, but since I’m back in Echo, I’d better go say hi to my kittens.”

“Oh, that’s right. You’re a family man now,” said Melifaro. “Well, up to you, then. Say hello to His Majesty Gurig VIII for me.”

“Good golly, I almost forgot about that! Why, oh why did you have to remind me?”

As I drove off I heard Rulen Bagdasys shouting. He was trying to find out from Melifaro who “that son-of-a-gun Gurig” was.

 

To my surprise, my place was spotless and tidy. The workers had gone, leaving on the table a bill for an astronomical sum. I thought they deserved the money, though. Ella and Armstrong, shocked by the changes, were sitting by their bowls. I lay down on the Kettarian carpet and combed my little furries’ long silky hair. They purred so happily that the walls trembled. Life was perfect. Almost perfect, anyway.

I showed up at Headquarters at noon, as I had promised. Sir Juffin Hully hadn’t really dressed up for the occasion, but his expression was quite stern and sedate. I was astounded.

“Whoa!” I said. “Sir, are you sure the king is some guy named Gurig, and not you?”

“Have I gone a little overboard with the stateliness? Should I tone it down a bit?” said Juffin.

“No, no. Don’t change a thing,” I said. “It’s a direct hit.”

“I certainly don’t need to hit anyone.”

Juffin hurried out into the hallway to look in the large mirror. He returned quite pleased with himself.

“You have a talent for overstatement, Max. I look perfectly fine,” he said, and turned to the buriwok. “Are you ready, my friend?”

“I am always ready,” said Kurush calmly.

“You’re absolutely right,” said Juffin. He stroked the bird affectionately and placed it on his shoulder. “Shall we, Max?”

“We shall. I’m prepared to march to the ends of the earth in such company.”

 

Well, “the ends of the earth”
was
an overstatement. The Headquarters of the Ministry of Perfect Public Order is called the House by the Bridge for a reason. It stands on the very bank of the Xuron by the Royal Bridge, which connects the Left and the Right banks of the river with Isle Rulx. On the island stands the tall Rulx Castle, the main Royal Residence. As we crossed the bridge, I admired the old castle walls. They breathed the aura of ancient and forgotten mysteries.

Then we crossed Louxi Bridge and stopped at the main gate of the Summer Residence of Gurig VIII. If anything, the Anmokari Castle looked like an oversized but neat country villa.

“How underimpressive,” I said with hauteur. “Call that a palace? Now, the Rulx Castle is one heck of a palace.”

“Don’t be such a snob,” said Juffin. “I, for one, prefer the Summer Residence. It doesn’t have that alarming, creepy-crawly feeling of old sins and ancient curses that the Rulx Castle has. Did you feel that?”

I nodded and said, “To be honest, that’s just what attracted me to it.”

“Really? That’s wonderful! You’re back in shape, then. A single night in the bedroom of old Filo was more than enough for you. Who would have thought? If I remember correctly, just two days ago you were sick and tired of mysteries, your own in particular.”

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