In the pale, windy dawn, before the excited throng in Lanthornmount Square, a great cloud above the Citadel descended. The citizens sang and roared and crowed their delight. General Allotrope Greatsergeant had returned.
The tale cascaded through Harmonium: General Greatsergeant had flown in the mouth of the Army of Invitation’s Cumulid, this Cumulid who now glided above, taking a craggy altonimbus’ guise. The General had ridden the Army of Invitation’s Cumulid all the way from the Ijkallas, three days in the swiftest being of the air, flying as fast as a hurricane’s wind. But not riding atop that fleet’s Cumulid, as earthbound beings were able to do for a few hours at a time.
The General had flown nestled in the Cumulid’s mouth. High in the atmosphere for thousands of thin-breathing miles. It had been done before; magicians were bourn so by the Consortium of Aerial Beings, but to do so for days was a test of endurance that proved the greatness of the kingdom and those who defended it.
Within the crowd, Calzjha wore a dress she snatched from their luggage as she dashed from the keep. Under her arm was the basket containing Warren, the wicker basket being common to the city. Around them, the crowd shared astonishment:
“Did you hear? His wife was caught betraying her marriage.”
“Betrayed her husband with a foreign guest she was sponsoring.”
“My sister-in-law hauled that Foofaloof in her rickshaw. She said the fellow was so charming.”
“That Ijkallan did not enter into it. My brother said it was some lackey who claims to be the Earl of Weiquant.”
“The Mad Earl! Nonsense. But what a tragedy for the Greatsergeants. Again.”
“What a terrible blow for the Foofaloof.”
“The poor, dear Foofaloof.”
Calzjha’s heart panged at their sympathy.
Above the city, the descending cloud gathered and rounded to avoid touching the rooftops. Citizens popped their curious heads from windows to gawp at the huge, billowing white underbelly.
That is how Cumulids traveled unnoticed; adapting their skins to seem like their surrounding meteorological dependants.
At the edge of Lanthornmount Square, above the Temple of Public Works, the cloud cascaded toward the flagstones. At the Cumulid’s front, the semblance of pudgy cheeks and bulbous nose unfurled. In an orderly, Harmoniad fashion, the crowd itself eased back to allow entrance.
Long tentacles extended to the surrounding buildings. Plate-like eyes, larger than gate arches, gave an expression of chagrin at so much attention.
The tentacles drew back. Revealed was a great cavern of mouth, arched and glowing like the anteroom of the Amusatorium.
Within that glow, a shadow stood. It took two, three steps. The man swayed as if exhausted, then steadied himself and hopped upon the brick of the square. The high forehead, the firm jaw unmistakable from his ancestor upon the ever-battling mural. The General had arrived.
The Cumulid swept its lower lip back and swept back up, wind pulling clothes, tugging hair, tearing papers from some awe-slackened clerk and sent flapping into a whirlwind. The great shy face blended with the illusion of cloudbanks. The Cumulid undulated away, casting its huge, diffuse shadow along the Arterial, to join that white quasi-nimbus of Royal Cumulid above the Citadel. The two clouds eased to each other, and stilled.
General Greatsergeant eased his attention to the Citadel. He looked upon it, the sunset gleaming in rose from the walls, that same russet sun striking his brown, chisled profile and edging his hair with gold. The wind ebbed and eased. The crowd settled from their excitement, and seeing the General so stilled and preoccupied, gathered their attention upon him. They drew closer.
He looked upon Harmonium, seeming lost in thought. Then Greatsergeant turned to the crowd. His voice was mellow yet strong, and carried over the breathless square:
“So long I have waited. Near two years away, seeing the marvels of exotic shores and the glories of peoples newly found. Yet…”
The General looked again upon the Citadel.
“…all are faint shadows compared to the sight of Harmonium,” he said.
A ripple of delight swept through the crowd. A woman standing beside Calzjha gasped with pride.
Calzjha muttered in Adanikarese. “Splendid. That entrance was so…poxied…splendid.”
At her elbow, Warren peeked from the basket. [Calzjha, please. We must get to the Birqmuir embassy.]
She thought, [We have time. I am in a new disguise. I am double-guised as they are looking for a man. I want to see the General. Fazgood always says that to gain an enemy’s measure, you must survey him yourself.]
“I have come in such an expedient conveyance,” The soldier drew out the word wryly to emphasize that it was not his lot to be comfortable. “To relate the admiration of the Ijkallan people as I presented myself to our Royal Family. Another splendid race of beings wish to join our Kingdom and Concord. I have come to bring the tidings of their people for your approval.”
Warren had slipped his head from the basket. [What is this. Do I understand this? He traveled from halfway across the world in that Cumulid’s mouth, presented himself to the Royal Family where he undoubtedly warmed and fed himself, then climbed back in the mouth to present himself here as freshly weary? What pomposity.]
Calzjha snorted. [I…yes. Yes. That is what he has done. I told you this would be invaluable.]
“There has been,” spoke the General toward the Keep, “much sadness in my family. This is but another difficulty in a family that has survived greater woes. I am committed to my love, my family and my kingdom. Through the help of my people…”
He opened his hands to beseech the crowd.
“…and the Concord, all will be made well.”
The crowd, over three thousand strong spilling along the Arterial and side streets, was moved by his pious devotion and nodded, hushed.
Warren peered. [Assailing a crowd this large requires great confidence.]
[But he is so simple! He plucks at the words “love” and “kingdom” and “family” and “Concord” again and again without any artfulness.]
The weasel chided, [They seem to like him.]
Calzjha made to shove Warren’s head down. Warren ducked back into the basket.
The General opened his hands to the crowd in a plea. “I have come bearing sad tidings for the Ijkallan delegation, for the son given the title the Grand Foofaloof.”
Warren popped back out of the basket and looked at Calzjha.
“He must be told of the grave illness of his father. I came in the noble Cumulid of the Invitation Army to bring the loving son back to his father’s side. I fear that the poor man may not last the night. But I have been told the Foofaloof has disappeared. Perhaps he is grieving or ashamed of the events of last night. But his father is dying and I bear no ill will. I wish to fly him back to his home, before it is too late.”
Dismay swept the crowd.
A woman near them: “The Foofaloof is such a merry being. I hope he is not distraught.”
To their left, a man: “A splendid fellow. He had the whole textile market roaring with laughter.”
Warren squeaked, [That…that tricky bastard. The entire city now looks for us.]
Calzjha could barely suppress her smile. [They love me so. And I love them.]
[Dolt! If the General gets hold of us, we may go up in that Cumulid, but we will come down without it, and over an ocean.]
Backing out of the crowd, she thought, [I must go to the Terhane Residences.]
The black eyes widened, [It is too late for the embassies. They will be watching. You still resemble the Foofaloof too closely. You must come up with a better disguise, or a distraction, or a ruse.]
She froze, aghast. [Why me? You are the playwrite. A play which, I should say, was absolutely horrible. How could you write such lines for me?]
[Ah!] Warren pounded the basket. [So you did roll your eyes at your lines. Art is a curative. Sometimes medicines make ill before they cure.]
[You make ill with your presence!]
[You wish you had one tenth of my intelligence. You are ashamed of your awe.]
Calzjha groaned and hunched through the remainder of the crowd. [I am awed of your dreariness. If you are so intelligent, think up a ruse then.]
[So I will.]
[Then do it.]
[Stop twittering at me; I’m trying to think.] Warren banged the basket shut.
Meanwhile, Warren thought, [My liege, I know you are preoccupied. But….may I disturb you?]
* * *
The Eximus Quayfort was mushroom shaped and squat from the outside. Fazgood was familiar with the design; the Xhnar had been royalty in the Kingdom before divesting themselves of the Compact, and founding their own land. They used the Eximus as a basis for their keeps in the Three Cities.
The common room on the third and highest level in the fortress was a design that balanced security with social grace. Walls were of thick brick covered with smooth, white plaster. A latticework of ablewood allowed guards to walk atop the ceilings and look in upon their charges. On the latticework stood three guards, whose expressions revealed nothing, but whose staring eyes alternated from hard determination at the importance of their task, to twinkling wonder at the charge’s identity.
Below on a stool, the Earl stared at the whiteness, ignoring the bitter smell of plaster, seeing only his thoughts.
Public Works will be here to determine me, that is well and good. The General will get nothing from Respiration, and he dare not have her determined. Obdurate is probably at the General’s side, or soon will be. His nerve will be a problem; but will it? He gave up nothing to the scouts. How I underestimated him.
His arm still tingled where it had pushed against Respiration’s breast.
Now. Now, the General doesn’t know where the Foofaloof is, and that must be making him frantic. Calzjha must be in the embassy by now. Where in the several dozen hells is Public Works?
[My liege, I know you are preoccupied. But…may I disturb you?]
The Earl considered, Warren is not panicking. That is good. Everything must be going smoothly.
[Squire, I am well. What have you?]
[My liege. We are doomed. The General just asked the entire city to look for us.]
The Earl suppressed a groan. [You are in the embassy, I hope?]
[We are surrounded in Lanthornmount Square. Calzjha wanted to see the General. It was rumored that the man would speak this morning.]
The weasel conveyed the events, and the Earl’s groan ran free.
The Earl scrubbed his forehead. [It is too late to get to the embassy. By this time, the General will have it under watch, saying the Foofaloof is panicking or some such. But you discovered the General wants to keep up the pretense. We can use that.]
[We could drive a group of people to the gates of the embassy to confuse the watchers, as you did with the Adanikarese Trade House.]
Fazgood sucked his lip. [The palace guards will be too smart, and the streets there are too narrow. The police would just cordon and interrogate one at a time. They would also stop and search all messengers.]
[Perhaps something to draw the police away?]
[Lose the basket and hide yourself within a bundle of clothes. Contact the captain, and have him escort Calzjha to the embassy in best dress. The captain is Greatsergeant’s voice; no one will bother him today.]
[Yes. I hope he is well enough.]
[He will be.]
The Earl’s face turned grim. [I would have liked him at my side back at the Earldom. Tell Calzjha she may flirt with the soldiers. That will keep her calm.]
The door latch clacked and the white painted door slid open. A maroon coated soldier escorted two old, dark-skinned humans in brown. The Earl brightened.
[Ah. Here comes Public Works. Go to your task.]
[Yes, my liege.]
The Earl looked to the men with anticipation.
They unrolled a square of black velvet, upon which was embroidered a large red square. The first gray-haired man rattled and rolled between his hands a set of lotsticks. He hummed and cast.
The sign of the Great Monstrous Broom lay, its staff pointing at the Earl.
Fazgood eyed it glumly. “Ah. That.”
Silence smothered the room. Shocked stares locked upon the Earl and their breathing stopped. The men backed away, thumped into the wall behind them, reached over their shoulders and knocked upon the door in tiny, sharp strokes. The door opened and they slipped out. The door slammed shut.
Fazgood looked up from the red sticks at the guard standing on the lattice above. “I have the foulest time with that…”
The guard was gone. Running footsteps clattered the latticework, receding, gone. Sharp rattling tapped Fazgood’s eardrums. From the top of the wall with the door, darkness raced across to the top of the wall behind him, and stopped its progress with a solid boom. The diffused light turned to sharp bands of light and dark. Outside the door, a similar boom.
Counter-weighted and tracked concrete blocks on the ceiling and door.
Ah. I forgot. Those are part of the design here as well.
The Earl grimaced in the stark light.
Will the Temporary God be disassembled? If so, that lotcaster in the scout brigades will be sent back to the Inspector.
He sighed and thought: What state are Mehzadapt’s deputies in? I fed two of them enough of that relish.
He cast his mind back to the keep, to the very spot among the glass bottles where he left the Lava-God-Vengeance Relish: Hope it doesn’t ignite the perfumes.
What had I just considered? Ah. Feeding relish to sow dissension, and dropping enough hints to my identity to that Tlezjoy. Those deputies must be quite excitable about being kept ignorant by Mehzadapt. Now when is that cursed General going to come?
* * *
Mehzadapt sat pressing his fingers tight against his teacup so tight, his fingernails were white. His heart pounded. It is true, or true enough. The General is not here for any Ijkallan lie. He is here to protect his graft. His being in Harmonium makes everything much easier. Today I will have exposed a conspiracy and be seated firmly upon a paragon.
The vote is tomorrow. I must have him today to sway Inspector Akekek and be elected Magnate.
He glared at the maid at the door, who moved to fill the half-emptied cup. The Inspector had taken a liking to the Bellflowers after having twisted the Earl here that night. Outside the window, and below, this side alley of the Foreign Due swept and swirled in the lively dance of commerce. Emissaries from the scout captains of the city scurried in and out of the meeting room all morning.
Petitions and promises were sent by messenger to the captains. The notes that returned were polite and perfunctory.
No support. Not one captain will back me. I have to get the General now, and get Inspector Akekek’s support, before I am destroyed.
From the open window of the warehouse, just under the sill, the crowns of three plughats shifted and tilted hats; by height he knew the highest hat was Deputy Varalam’s, there was the top half of Varalam’s gray head beneath. At least Varalam could keep them in some propriety.
Even now the Adactoid growled. “Keep quiet, you.”
One deputy’s deep vibrato, almost subsonic as a tremblar. “The whole city talks about it. We cannot?”
“I told you: I knew so.” whined another, which he recognized as Tlezjoy.
“You knew nothing,” said Varalam.
“I saw him throw beannuts and strike a policeman fifty strides away. He told me of his traveling in mountains is his youth; he was supposed to be from islands. I knew there was more to him.”
“That first day of searching,” said the deep voiced one, “that animal we were looking for must have been Warren. But what was his play at living in the Greatsergeant Keep?”
“Perhaps he was spying,” suggested Tlezjoy.
Varalam’s head shook. “He is willful as a demon. He lives for things precious like a pirate king. Perhaps he sails from city to city, pillaging rich homes but with the owners’ cooperation. Human women admire excitement.”
“Imagine having a play like that.” Tlezjoy said. “You would bed rich, beautiful women, live high, and leave when you are bored.”
“I would never be bored,” said Growly.
“What a prize. And the Inspector could not keep him.”
Mehzadapt rose and leaned out the window.
The three turned and looked up. The Inspector noted two fleeting looks; the narrow eyes and tilted heads of resentments from the Humans, and the Adactoid’s eyes twinkled of amused doubt, though that faded quick to cold. In normal circumstances, the Inspector would have played that he had heard nothing of their conversation. But with the desperate wrangling with captains, the strange anger among his crew, his own frustration, the loss of the Earl’s obligation, and now the dearth of comforting deference; all made his temper short.
The Inspector sneered: “I knew that he was the Earl of Weiquant. You know one spit of it. There is more to him still. But if my deputies insist on speaking free –“
The three looked around the empty sidewalk.
“ — and losing their demeanor. All of you go walk the Triumph and contemplate keeping your mouths shut until I say otherwise. When anyone asks, tell them ‘I walk to improve my discipline’. I will not have your willfulness known and ruin my candidacy. Go to your task.”
The Inspector immediately regretted mentioning his candidacy. He held his composure.
The Adactoid opened his mouth to protest, then thought better of it. The mens’ expressions did not even harden. They merely turned and walked down out of the yard to find a rickshaw to headquarters. Varalam straightened and strode after them.
Enthus, can I not trust anyone? I must go to the General today, before my deputies or my nerves unravel.
* * *
His stomach said it was past noonday, the room felt warmer and the smell of plaster was sharper. Fazgood was about to check with Warren on the progress, when the bracing behind the door gave a sharp bang.
The white door slid open, and stepped through a tall dark man in maroon. His strong block chin was tilted high, and beneath a tall forehead, brown eyes narrowed in flat appraisal.
The man’s voice was deep and melodic: “Fazgood. The mad Earl of Weiquant. I read your biography. I would not have assumed such things to look at you.”
Fazgood shrugged. “General Allotropic Greatsergeant. All of my disappointment in you comes from direct testimony.”
Greatsergeant nodded, quick smiling nods.
“Ha, yes. That amuses,” Greatsergeant spoke, but his eyes were piercing. “Considering your situation, I accept my disappointments.”
He waved at the room. “We can speak freely, if we speak soft. I ordered for no one to listen. There are lotcasters in the hall. They cast to determine your actions every few seconds. One shout from me, or one poor cast, and this room fills with something brutal. One shout.”
“If we can speak freely, I had wondered.”
“What do you wonder?”
“How long did you expect to roam the seas, and leave your wife with your family secret.”
The General smiled and folded his hands, relaxing. “What secret is that?”
“Ah. So we must still be circumspect for the casters. Then I ask: Why leave your wife with that object in the black trunk?”
A chuckle, more arrogance than mirth. “My wife is the cleverest, most splendid woman in the kingdom.”
“I would think you would want her as ignorant as the household staff.”
“You reveal your own ignorance. My staff knows about the secret passage. They suspect some sort of treachery, but swore to their ancestors who served my family that nothing would be told.”
“That is loyalty,” the Earl remarked.
“You may have noticed how grim they are. I think of them as an educational artwork. Like a sculpture of a dissected body. Their devotion to duty has sucked the joy from their lives. That is what loyalty to a lie wreaks.”
“Respiration would be no one’s fool.”
Greatsergeant’s eyes became sharp. “My wife is exemplary; I thought she of all would understand it, and understand me. I came to understand…the item…while very young, when I sneaked into that room every chance I got, and lay outside, knowing what it could do. I wanted to give her the same opportunity.”
Looking above at the latticework, Fazgood shrugged. “About that, I could shout about it to the guards just now.”
Greatsergeant waved a hand to the white door. “Speak clearly. If they do find what is in the trunk, what of the Concord? If you felt that revelation was an option, then you already would have done so.”
Fazgood made to look defiant, but did make to shift his eyes with uncertainty from the General’s gloating, flat gaze. He grumbled, pretending half-warning, half in boast:
“Indeed. You have me. I would not reveal. But there is a citizen who insists on knowing your business.”
“Who would this citizen be?”
“The man I was under obligation to. Scout Brigade Inspector Mehzadapt.”
“My family has a great many friends in the Scout Brigades.”
Then why did no scout mention this? Does the General seek to deceive me, or is he deluded?
“That,” the Earl enunciated, “would not be of any interest to Mehzadapt. There is a vote on for the new magnate, and the Inspector is ambitious. He wishes to know your secret and have you under his rump.”
“You have misguided him. I will set that right.”
“He had your captain beaten and tortured to get information about your wife. He wishes to leverage your household.”
The General’s smile faded. Many questions swam behind his eyes.
“My captain will account for his attackers.”
“If you go to the Inspector, the Inspector will believe you afraid and believe he has you.”
“I am a paragon. I already have him.”
He deludes himself. He turns from being friends with the Scouts to domineering his supposed chums. Let him delude himself more.
“Why do you think I was caught in the affair?” the Earl asked.
“Affections makes one careless.”
“To save the kingdom.”
Greatsergeant’s head was tilted a little, a pose of interest. “Our hero.”
Fazgood added, “Do not mistake me. I did not do it to save you.”
“That would be odd, to cuckold for the sake of the husband.”
“Indeed. Your wife and I would have had our dalliance, and I would have been away and all would be pleasant memory. Then I found out about your secret, then became under obligation to the Inspector, and I was compelled to stay.”
“You were under obligation because you were poor at cards or dice.”
“I was set up. The Inspector wanted to know any secrets lying around your home.”
“When you were arrested,” the General noted, “that was when Public Works dispelled any obligations you were under.”
“Out from under one rump, and under another.”
The General laughed, an open and honest laugh of relief. “My wife must have been so disappointed in you. She did let you see it.”
“She hoped I could destroy it, or render it useless. I opened the secret room, and the chest.”
“I am glad you did. Specifically you. A leader of experience and standing like myself. So you saw it?”
“Yes.”
Greatsergeant’s smile widened, gloating, self-possessed. “It is so beautiful.”
Carefully, to coax the man along. “How so?”
“Power declares beauty. It is the most beautiful object in the kingdom. In the world.”
“She hoped that I could find a way to destroy it. It cannot be burned or mashed, but I did keep the secret hidden for the kingdom’s sake. I was trying to figure out how to solve the problem. Then you arrived. How did you discern me? The sympathy doll held to the end.”
“What you did with the doll was quite clever. You are a tricky one. To answer your question: I have many resources. I have close supporters and spies everywhere.”
The Earl made to be ignorant. “Did the judicial fellow clue you? Was it that captain who told you? That wretched little bloodpuddle.”
“It was foolish to go against me.”
Holding a retort, Fazgood thought, That should cover the captain’s betrayal for the moment.
So he replied, “I believe that now. But you’ve another problem with the Scout Inspector. He told me you are callow and stupid. I was foolish to believe him.”
“He said that?”
“The Scout Inspector believes your inherited title means you can shirk challenge.”
“I cannot help his ignorance.”
“All has been handed to you in the easiest manner. Those are the sort of things –”
Greatsergeant’s face darkened. “I have survived the most difficult life in the history of this Kingdom. And he believes there is challenge to being a Scout Inspector? To being a herder of vermin-herds?”
“You must be accustomed to such jealousies.”
The General puffed. “I will set the Inspector to the proper tack. As for you? I have heard the Public Works speak of this Broom nature. You will not be sweeping away anything in this city, mad Earl. Doubtless they know a suitable means of removing you from the Kingdom. I will keep my wife, and resume my place and family.”
“Why keep her? She seems miserable.”
The soldier laughed and whispered, “She loathes me. I keep her because she is the finest of the kingdom, and because she is mine to keep.”
“But she will not have a child by you.”
“She will.”
Fazgood sneered. “Or the most-beautiful-powerful comes out of hiding.”
“She is practical.”
“Abomination is quite an aphrodesiac.”
“She will accept the truth.”
“Because of that item, the Kingdom survives only through your tolerance.”
The General’s eyes came alive. “Yes.”
“You and Respiration will control the fate of the most powerful city in the world.”
“Yes.”
“Rather than fight you, even the Royal Family will surrender, and give you and she immortality so that you may rule for all time.”
“Yes.” the General chortled. “There is only one other fate possible for my wife. Perhaps you would like to know what it is.”
The Earl made to listen.
“If it is as you say,” Greatsergeant said. “and I am surrounded, then my little secret will be revealed. My wife has known of it for over six years. She told no one. If the Kingdom survives the revelation, for her not to have told would be called ‘high treason’.”
Fazgood felt his sneer slip. “She had no choice. You put her in that circumstance.”
“Yes, I did.”
“They would determine her sincerity. That would be taken into account.”
The General’s smile returned. “Ten years ago, Prince Meteoric Prudence rearranged the entire officer staff of the Eleventh Naval Squadron. He even had two admirals imprisoned, and not even their family knows if they are still alive. No explanation was given. No one knows why. The Royal Family just does things. No one will ask, no one will question, no appeal will be heard by mortal ears.
“So,” said Greatsergeant, his brow creasing in mock concern. “If I am caught and revealed, she shares a great uncertainty. We had best insure that doesn’t happen.”
The Earl had the urge to leap off the stool and head butt the bridge of the man’s nose.
Fazgood gathered his composure enough to ask. “What would you want?”
“I want to move it to a safer place.”
And there it is. In the end, no matter how much anyone professes to despise me, they always have a favor to ask.
“I know a way …to transport your secret out of the keep. The same method can secure another place so it can be safe.”
The General leaned close. “How? The impercept vault is built too large for the doors. You are lying.”
“And fidelity braids are infallible.”
“Indeed. You are full of tricks. Yet why should I trust you? Why didn’t you move the secret already?”
“And put it where?” Fazgood spat. “There is no place safe enough from spirits, weather and prying. I don’t want it. Respiration was right to be concerned about future generations. I may hate this city, but I have met some useful distilleries here.”
“Tell me what you would do.”
“Creating an impercept is not difficult.”
The Earl shaped the dimensions of a box. “You need three identical boxes of proper size. You bring the boxes in the vault. You place the secret in one. The trick is the proper handling of the boxes. And some other items.”
The Earl stopped and pointedly placed his hands in his lap.
“This is when,” the General said, “you should remember the futility of crossing me.”
“You are going to try to do this yourself. You cannot. The handling must be done as a ritual. One misstep and the spirits notify Public Works.”
“That brings me to my last demand: where is your conspirator?”
“In the greatest honesty, I do not know where the Foofaloof is.”
Greatsergeant pointed to the door. “I will have those lotcasters determine you. It will take time, but I will have your Foofaloof.”
The General turned and walked toward the door. It opened without a knock.
Conscious of the audience, the General declaimed, “I will negotiate a release for you to make amends to my wife. As an act of civility. There will be guards involved. After that, that is for the Kingdom to decide.”
Fazgood bit back a mocking tone. “Ah. Bless you. Oh, and here is an incidental question: where are we taking the object in question?”
The door banged shut. The Earl listened, and he thought that very faintly, lotsticks and lotcoins rattled and rang.
He thinks he is going to kill me before he has to reveal the destination.
The Earl cast his mind to his familiar.
Warren seemed to be peering from within a roll of cloth. A swell of olive-dark hip and firm, dimpled rump eased into view. From the angle of the view, the front of her hip could not been seen.
Calzjha’s voice. “Citizen Dressmaker, is the purple is more flattering to my skin?”
Transfixed, Fazgood hesitated in asking: [Buying a dress, Warren?]
[Ah. My liege. It was considered that Calzjha ought to spend time naked before witnesses, in case we are followed and they are asked.]
[Yes. Prudent. I need you to turn away so I can concentrate.]
[Yes, my liege. She is such a strumpet.]
[I just had a lesson from General Greatsergeant.]
[The General was with you? What did he say?]
[In a great grouping of words, General Allotrope Greatsergeant told me that he is insane.]
[He could destroy the city and the Kingdom! How can you know he is insane and be calm?]
[Squire, I find having only one worry very soothing, despite its size. Have you notified the captain yet?]
[Obdurate sent word to us to meet outside of the Terhane Residences.]
[Keep to that plan. Find a pen and ink and I will dictate two messages. Be quick. We have to do this quick.]
