Chapter 4
"THEY ARE ALL looking at us," Calypsa said nervously. "They are so strange looking!"
I grumbled under my breath. "This would all have been a lot easier if you had let me and Tananda go in alone."
"Nothing doing," the girl said, holding the bundle containing Kelsa protectively to her narrow chest. "I go where you go. I do not want you to slip away inconveniently. My grandfather's life is in danger."
"Then, shut up," I said, with a glare I hoped would seal her lips for the time being. "You don't speak the local lingo, and I don't want anyone to misconstrue what they think you said." I grinned affably at a man who was watching us talk. "Nice spring day, isn't it, friend!"
The people of Mernge watched us out of the corners of their eyes as we went down the street. The trouble with Klahds is their dimension is almost bereft of magik, and equally devoid of technology. As a result, very few of them are familiar with either, so the appearance of anything strange is met with the utmost suspicion. Without the aid of complex mechanical or magikal means of assistance, Klahds have to rely on animal power, either their own or another animal's, to get around. Hence, they don't travel much, so visitors are more rare than in other dimensions. When roused, Klahds tend to break out in deadly and punitive force. Sophistication and smooth talking are no match for a rope, an ax or a torch.I've been on the business end of all three of those unfriendly greetings more times on Klah than I feel comfortable thinking about. How they would have reacted to a Pervect, a Trollop and a storklike Walt I could just imagine, and it wouldn't be pretty.
So you're asking yourself, why weren't they reacting to the sight of a Pervect, a Trollop and a Walt? In the interests of self-preservation, I had Tananda put a disguise spell on the three of us. If I had had my powers, I could have done it in a wink, no problem, but I had to admit Tananda had done a pretty good job. I was used to delegating jobs like that now, not a bad skill to have learned, though I wasn't crazy about the condition that had forced me to learn it. Still, we were attracting attention anyhow, because we were clearly not locals.
I always said that the best way to go into any situation was as if you belonged there. In the guise of a wealthy merchant, I swaggered down the street, accompanied by my two female associates. Tananda, in her dress and kirtle, undulated, but she'd exude sex appeal if she was disguised as a raccoon in bloomers. Klahdish males gawked after her, some with open mouths.
After a few false starts we'd disguised Calypsa as a school-marm. With her posture it was either that or a sergeant-major, and I didn't want people to think that the military was invading their little hamlet. No, I had come up with a stratagem to separate an eight-year-old boy from his sports trophy. Not that I had any qualms about getting it away from him; the trick was to do it so we could remove it and ourselves from the arena without causing the town elders to examine our credentials too closely. I could bamf us out of the place if we failed in our attempt, but rumors of that kind of thing has a way of getting around, and I did not want attention drawn to this little corner of Klah. I rarely paid any attention to the provinces, except when their existence impacted my earning potential or well-being in some way. In my experience, most city-dwellers feel the same as I do. Anyone who lives within smelling distance of cows is less important than anyone who lives within nose-range of exhaust fumes.
At any rate, we couldn't help but have to march through town like a trio of traveling players. Kelsa had been pretty obtuse about finding the boy, but she let us know by telling us 'hot' or 'cold' whether we were walking in the correct direction or no. Unfortunately, she didn't know the meaning of the word "undertone." Every pronouncement was made at the top of her ringing voice. Since we couldn't muffle her and still figure out where we were going, Tanda had to cover every outburst with meaningless chatter.
"Left here!" Kelsa announced.
"My goodness," Tananda exclaimed loudly, for the benefit of the crowd following us. She veered in that direction, talking loudly over the crystal ball's continuing babble, something about the cobblestones being the bumps in the gods' thought process. "What a fine butcher shop window! Isn't that the best display of cow hooves you have ever seen?"
I stumped along behind her and took a brief gander at the meat display. The Klahd behind the counter glared at the trio of strangers. He had the same poleaxed expression as the carcass hanging on the hook behind him. He brought his cleaver down with a thunk! Bone chips flew in every direction. Tananda gave him a winning smile, and sauntered, seemingly at random, down the little lane beside the shop. We had left Ersatz out of town, concealed in the trunk of a hollow tree. He had had second thoughts about the hunt, in spite of all Calypsa's heart-wrenching pleas, and had spent plenty of time trying to talk us out of it. We just couldn't afford to have two disembodied voices drawing the crowd's attention.
"So, watcha doing in Mernge?" a boy asked, running alongside me. He had red hair, freckles and eyes the same color as pond silt.
"Minding my own business," I snapped.
"That sounds boring!"
"Aahz!" Tananda said, pointedly. She dropped an arm around the brat's shoulders. "We're scribes from the Margrave's castle. We're here to get an important story about a boy who took part in a race."
"I ran a race," the boy said, eagerly. "I won the race in front of our whole school!"
"Not you," Tananda said. "It's another boy who ran that we're interested in."
"But I won!"
"That's not as interesting to the Margrave as the boy who tried hard, but didn't succeed," Tananda said. It sounded lame even to me.
I took charge of the conversation. "Bug off, kid. You don't want to get involved in Margrave's business, do you?"
The kid's face screwed up, making him uglier than ever. He kicked my shin. "I'll tell my dad on you! He's the mayor! He'll make you interview me!" I made to grab him, but he ran away. I added him to the list of people I was going to 'chat with' when I got my powers back. He needed to learn some manners, one way or another.
"Are you sure this is the best way?" Calypsa asked, with dismay. "The open approach, in the middle of the day? Why could we not make a secret visit, perhaps in the night?"
"Right turn, no, left. Left!" Kelsa's voice echoed in the narrow alley. Tananda gave an apologetic smile to the crowd following us.
"It wouldn't be secret with our own personal foghorn letting off like that," I said. If the crowd was growing suspicious of the disembodied voice, the swiftly spreading rumor of the Margrave's involvement kept them from getting too curious about our strange behavior. I began to get nervous about the formidability of the local laird, and wished we'd done a little more investigation before we marched into town. Too late, I thought, squaring my shoulders. Just keep going.
"That's it!" Kelsa screeched happily as we arrived in front of a house. The garden gate was painted white, and young shoots of climbing flowers were just twining their way up the arch. The house beyond was pretty good sized. We were dealing with a merchant or better. I sized up the amount of gold I still had in my pocket, and wondered if I might have to slip the dad a bribe.
"My goodness, Lord Wordsmith," Tananda said, flourishing her hand at the door. "Is this not a fine place?"
"Could use a coat of paint or two."
"Well, I like it," Tananda said, pouting prettily for the crowd. I spotted some movement behind the curtains. The family must have been tipped off we were heading in this direction, because they came boiling out of the door like a horde of puppies that had heard the words, "Chow time!" The Klahds, two girls, a boy, a man and a woman, were dressed in their best clothes. All I could say was that in my experience only one person had had taste that bad, and he had been taught better. The woman beamed at me out from under a tall, conical green hat tied onto her head with a bright yellow scarf. Around her shoulders was a shawl of blue and red, over a brown dress and white apron. The man must have been at the same sale of clown-clothes. His parti-colored tunic of brown and green was topped with a pu
rple hood. He looked uncomfortable, as if he was not responsible for the choices, yet had no option but to appear in what he was given. It was a good thing I wasn't there to write an article praising their garments, because it was going to be hard enough to keep a straight face.
"May I help you, sir and ladies?" the man asked.
"Good afternoon, sir," I said, heading straight for him with my hand out. "I am Lord Wordsmith. The Margrave has commanded me to record instances of great importance and record them for the kingdom archives. He has sent me here today because of an accomplishment in your own family. May I have all of your names. For the record, of course?"
The man looked nervous. "The Margrave is interested in us?"
"That's right," I said. "He was pretty impressed. He sent us to get an interview that will become part of the permanent record."
"Oh." He looked a little less nervous. "Was it my scholarly takeover of the gristmill in Fleben?"
"Why, no, though that was a masterful stroke," I said, though I had no idea what he was talking about. He preened.
"Maybe the embroidery exhibition that my wife and her sisters put on at the village hall? The Margrave must have heard that she made over thirty-five different kinds of antimacassar!"
"No! I mean, no." I softened my tone as they backed up a pace in alarm. "We're here to talk to your son about the race he ran at school. We understand that he came in second."
I turned to the boy. He was a stocky lad of twelve or so summers, just the age when a young man's heart turns to petty vandalism and wondering why the girl next door seemed to be growing into such a different shape than his. "How about it, son? Why don't we go inside and talk about it a little?"
"Oh, yeah!" the boy crowed. "That'd be terrific!"
"Well," the woman said. "I hope you'll excuse the house. I didn't know you were coming here today, you see. The place is a mess!"
I put on my most sincere smile. "I'm sure it's fine." I nodded to Tananda. As soon as we crossed the threshold she was casing the joint. I love working with professionals.
"Imagine, us Skivers in the royal archives!" the woman said. "Oh, I'm Melangelie. This is my husband, Feothor. My son, Imgam. My daughters, Vencie and Ludanna."
"Pleased to meet you," I said.
"Oh, the honor is all ours! Please come in!" She showed us into the small sitting room, still fluttering. Her husband and children followed. She plunked embroidered cushions down behind Calypsa's upright back, pressed a few around Tananda, and hovered around my elbow until I finally lifted it so she could put a ruffled pillow beneath it.
"May I offer you some tea?"
I didn't gag out loud. Tea's all right if mere isn't any other water to wash in, but I don't make a habit of drinking it.
"No, thanks," I said. "I'm hoping this won't take too long." That was Tananda's cue.
She made an apologetic noise to Melangelie. "Could you tell me where the, uh…?"
"Down the hall to the left, last door," the hostess said, with a smile, but her attention was fixed on me. "Is there anything else I can get for you? Cookies? Biscuits? Pie? I don't have any more coffee cake, but perhaps I can go borrow some from the neighbor?"
"No, thanks. Please sit down. You're making me nervous." Melangelie dithered for a moment more. "Sit!"
She sat.
"That's better." I made a big deal out of taking a roll of parchment and a pencil out of my bag and handing them off to Calypsa. "Miss Ermintrude here will take notes for us."
The girls sat on either side of Calypsa, and watched her hands. I leaned toward the kid. I didn't know how much time Tananda would need, but I was going to give her every opportunity. The house wasn't that big, and Kelsa had assured us that the cup was on an open shelf.
"Give us your impression about the contest."
"Ah, it was just a fifty-yard dash," the boy said, waving a hand to make me think it was no big deal.
"Now, just a moment, son," Feothor said, holding up a hand. "Not another word."
I narrowed my eyes at him.
"Why not?" I asked.
He turned an oily smile my way. "Well, I don't mind having his memoir become part of the public record, of course, but I want to make sure that all of his rights are preserved. You understand, don't you?"
"I understand." I sighed. "You're a lawyer, aren't you."
He put an innocent hand on his ill-clad chest. "Just a friendly defender of the public welfare. And that includes my son, of course."
"Of course," I said. It was an effort to be patient, but I made it. "What's the deal?"
"Well," Feothor said, taking a sheet of parchment and the pencil out of Calypsa's hand. Instead of making notes, he started to write sentences — long sentences — right off the top of his head. "Before my son makes any kind of a statement, I'd like you to sign this."
"Sign what?" I was definitely beginning not to like him. He offered me a bland look.
"This waiver. It will grant the Margrave permission only to place Imgam's story in the national archives. My son, his heirs and assigns, will retain the rights to all proceeds, royalties, future income arising from the publication of his memoirs, allowing him rights to his own story, should he choose to publish further writing in the future." He whipped off a pageful of paragraphs and reached for another piece of parchment with an air of efficiency that gave me the uncomfortable feeling I was back with the minister who had made my life so miserable in the court of Possiltum with his regulations and rules.
I peered at the Klahd's face. "You aren't related to JR Grimble, are you?"
"Grimbles? They're uneducated trash," the Klahd said, sneering. He went on writing. "We Skivers have been students of law since the first written word!"
That I could well believe. I leaned forward.
"Look, we're not here to cheat your boy out of his future rights. All we want is to hear what he has to say. He can tell it again to anyone he wants, from now on until the end of time, for all we care. Come on, we don't have all day."
Feothor didn't even look up. The pencil point flew. "Just another few paragraphs."
"Dad!" Imgam protested. "When do I get to talk?"
"Almost finished," the Klahd said.
I was beginning to lose my temper. "This isn't the formula for cold fusion we're talking about here," I snarled. "The boy and I are just going to have a conversation. You can listen to the whole interview. I'm not trying to get him to betray state secrets."
"See here, Lord Wordsmith," Skiver said, pointing the pencil at me. I barely restrained myself from leaning forward and biting it off at the elbow. "I'm just trying to protect my child. You would do the same thing to safeguard your own offspring from having someone cheat him, wouldn't you?"
"Not to the extent of preventing him doing what he wants to do," I said. "All we want is enough for a simple article. Nothing fancy. In fact, it'll be shorter than what you've turned out already. Do you want me to go back to the Margrave and tell him you wouldn't let Imgam here give us the details he asked for?"
I glanced out of the window. On the lawn, the crowd was growing, as more ambitious parents turned up with their offspring. With my keen hearing, I could eavesdrop on their conversation, which amounted to a question as to why the entire athletics program of the local school wasn't going into the archives, winners AND losers, as befit their precious children's activities. And so on. I was beginning to regret my choice of approach. We might have to make a run for it, and soon.
"One more moment, my lord, one more moment. Hmmm, hm hm, hmmm."
Calypsa gave me a worried look. I signed to her not to worry. I didn't mind signing his waiver. It would have all the legal standing of anything else that was signed with a phony name by an extradimensional being wearing a disguise spell. I invited him to catch me later for breach of contract if he could. I fingered the D-hopper in my pocket.
"Look," I said, rising from my seat. "We came as we were instructed to do. We can't get you to tell us what you don't want to. We'll just have to
go back to the castle and tell them we failed."
"Not completely," Tananda said, with a sweet smile, appearing at my side. She tipped me a small wink. "We won't have our story, but we will have an interesting tale to tell the Margrave. He will be most interested to hear about your lack of cooperation. We should go, Master Wordsmith."
"But how can you go until you hear my story?" the boy said, springing to his feet indignantly.
"How can you leave until you sign the contract?" Feothor asked.
"How can we go without the Cup?" Calypsa demanded, gawking at me.
The others all gawked at me, too. The Walt language isn't very much like Klahd, but they have some sounds in common, Unfortunately, 'cup' was one of them.
"Cup? What cup?" Feothor asked.
"Nothing," I said, grabbing the Walt by the arm and hauling her toward the door. Tananda was right behind me. "Miss Ermintrude just wants a cup of tea. That's all. We can't wait around for it. We'll have to get refreshments back at the Margravery. Thanks for your time. Too bad it didn't work out."
Imgam was much smarter than the average Klahd.
"Cup?" he exclaimed. He jumped up and ran out of the room. "It's gone! My trophy is gone!" He pointed a finger at Tananda. "She stole it!"
"Nonsense, kid," I said, yanking open the door. "You must have left it somewhere. Nice to meet you folks. Goodbye."
I attempted to step outside.
Unfortunately, when I opened the door, a do2en people fell in on top of me. The neighbors, who had been gathering in force, started protesting even before they managed to get back to their feet.
"My son is the best archer in town!"
"My daughter collects spiders! All kinds! You should write about her!"
"I need to talk to you about my twins." A crude hand drawing of two moppets with golden pigtails was shoved in my face. "Aren't they gorgeous?"
"Stop them!" Skiver yelled. "They're thieves!"
Looks of shock, disbelief, and outrage — in that order — came over the faces of the townsfolk. I started tossing Klahds over my shoulder in an attempt to get outside, to a place where I could employ the D-hopper, but there were just too many of them. A dozen or so stood or lay on each of my limbs to hold me down.
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