The Stranger's Woes (35 page)

“I am Sir Max, the last of the clan of Fanghaxra, Ruler of the Lands of Fanghaxra, Nocturnal Representative of the Venerable Head of the Minor Secret Investigative Force of the Capital of the Unified Kingdom, Death in His Majesty’s Service, who generously kisses the condemned and spares the lucky, Leader of the Dead, and Terror of Madcaps biding their time in pubs.”

Fortunately, Sir Aloxto was too impressed by the beginning of my speech to notice the irony of its finale. Later, however, I learned that the very notion of irony was completely inaccessible to the citizens of Arvarox. Their ways of looking at the world simply lacked the notion of irony altogether.

This was probably for the best, because my last phrase was intended solely for Melifaro’s ears. I was getting back at him: now it was his turn to try not to laugh. The poor fellow turned bright red, to my utter delight.

You
. . .
you
. . .
Couldn’t you find a better time for your jokes? I’m going to kill you sooner or later
,
and this World will lose another crazy poet
.
It even makes me a little sad
.

Praise be the Magicians, at that moment Melifaro could only take revenge by resorting to Silent Speech.

While Melifaro was trying to maintain a serious expression, our Arvarox guest lowered his head in a sharp movement and began contemplating the boards under his feet. Apparently, this was the equivalent of a bow in Arvarox. In any case, I decided to go ahead and assume that he was bowing.

“I will make sure to convey my special thanks to your king for this honor,” said Aloxto Allirox in a thunderous voice. “The presence of both of you on my ship is a sign. You are the face of the day, granting rest, and the face of the night, bestowing death. I could not have dreamed of the honor of such an encounter. My heart did not deceive me in sending me on this journey. Welcome to the deck of
The Surf Thorn
, under the bright cloak of the Conqueror of Arvarox. My Water Tamer will show you anything you find worthy of your interest. You are free to do whatever you like here.”

The fair-haired giant turned away from us and shouted so loudly that my ears started ringing, “Kleva! Come here, Kleva!”

Another giant, this one red-haired, appeared before us. He was only a little shorter than Aloxto, but more broad-shouldered. Flung over his shoulders was a long dark cloak. I noticed chain mail underneath the cloak, glittering in the twilight.

Remembering that Arvarox knew no metals, I thought that his mail must be imported. Later I learned that an Arvaroxian warrior would never buy arms or armor from outlanders. They made their mail from the hard shells of the Eube bug. Arvarox was full of these insects, which provided enough material to supply everyone with armor.

“Take the keys, Kleva.” Aloxto handed his subordinate several bundles of keys. I had no idea that there could be so many locks on the ship.

“Show these gentlemen everything they wish to see.”

The rest was easy. Led by the silent Kleva, we took a short trip around the holds of the ship. Here and there we saw huge, handsome men wearing dark cloaks. They looked at us indifferently while we listened to the jangling of the keys in the hands of the captain and pretended that we were looking for contraband goods. Boy, was it ridiculous.

An hour later, Melifaro and I decided to call it quits. Melifaro produced a standard self-scribing tablet of the Customs Service from the pocket of his looxi, then pulled out a thick sheet of bluish paper from the chancellory office of Gurig VIII. It was an official permit for staying in Echo for the crew of the foreign warship. With the precious documents in our hands, we went to look for the leader of this gang of Mr. Universes.

We found him exactly where we had left him an hour before. He was sitting, his legs crossed, contemplating his weapons, which were still lying on the deck.

“Thank you for the hospitality, Sir Allirox,” said Melifaro, bowing. “I have your papers. I have almost finished filling them out. There is just one other matter we must discuss. I must inquire of you the purpose of your visit to the Capital of the Unified Kingdom.”

“We have come to find out whether the filthy Mudlax, last of the vile kings of the edge of the earth, who fled in disgrace from the victorious army of the Conqueror of Arvarox, is hiding here,” said Aloxto.

“All right, I’ll just note it down as ‘justice and revenge,’ then,” said Melifaro, nodding matter-of-factly. “Here are your papers. His Majesty King Gurig VIII will be happy to welcome you tomorrow to his Summer Residence, the Anmokari Castle. His messengers will arrive at the ship at noon to accompany you. Good night, Sir Allirox.”

“Good night, Sir Sternlooking Master of two times fifty Sharptooths,” I added.

“Good night to you, too. I will be honored to see you again, gentlemen,” said Aloxto, lowering his head ever so slightly again in a bow.

We departed from under the hospitable “bright cloak of the Conqueror of Arvarox”—disembarked
The Surf Thorn
, that is—and stepped down onto solid ground.

“I feel tiny and ugly,” said Melifaro. “Why did the makers of the Universe expend most of their generosity creating the citizens of Arvarox? I just fail to see any logic in that. Do you see any logic in it, Max?”

“They are too handsome for me to be indignant about it, or to envy them,” I said. “I can’t compare myself to them. We’re too different. It wouldn’t be comparing people to people. It would be like comparing people to something else. Does what I’m saying make sense?”

“It does. But I still feel bad.”

It was no wonder that when we returned to the House by the Bridge we still felt crestfallen after witnessing the otherworldly beauty and grandeur of the subjects of the Conqueror of Arvarox.

“Say, boys, are you sorry that your mothers didn’t marry some handsome boys from Arvarox in their time?” asked Juffin, who could read our faces like an open book. “Don’t envy them too much, though. Their lives aren’t all song and dance. Besides, they rarely live to see their hundredth birthday. Can you really hold it against them that at least something about them is perfect?”

“Why don’t they live longer?” I said. “Too many wars?”

“That, too. And they don’t consider life to be worth all that much. Neither theirs, nor anyone else’s. Life is a cheap commodity in their eyes. One could say that they don’t live long because they want to die. That would be, perhaps, the most accurate explanation. You see, many Arvaroxians die young, but not necessarily on the battlefield. Sometimes a handsome young giant will sit down in a corner to think, and an hour later, when they call him for dinner, he is already stiff and cold.”

I shook my head in disbelief. “How is that possible?”

“It just is, Max. There are old people in Arvarox, but they are few and far between. A gray-haired old man in Arvarox is considered to be a great wonder: a senseless one that nevertheless clearly witnesses to the great might of the powers they worship. Anyway, boys, go get some rest. I’m truly sorry I had to take you from Sir Manga so soon, and on such short notice.”

“That’s all right,” said Melifaro. “Someday it will be tit for tat. And thank you, sir, for the information about Arvaroxian customs. I don’t envy them anymore. It’s strange that Father never told me about them.”

“It’s not strange at all. If Sir Manga hadn’t been bound by numerous vows of secrecy, his
Encyclopedia of the World
would have comprised not just eight, but eight dozen volumes. Didn’t you know?”

“Vaguely,” said Melifaro. “To be honest, I never thought much about it. Let’s go, Max.”

I looked at Sir Juffin Hully in bewilderment. “Don’t I need to stay at work?”

“No, not today. I’ll need you tomorrow at noon. Try to look your best. You will meet one of the most avid admirers of your exploits.”

“And who might that be?”

“Where is your intuition now, Sir Max? Why, His Majesty King Gurig VIII, of course.”

“Oh, no!” I said putting my head between my hands. “Please, Juffin, have mercy! Look at me. What impression will I make at the Court? Plus, I feel shy. And nervous.”

“Don’t, Max. He’s very pleasant and quite harmless, believe me. I have to deliver a report about our work at Court tomorrow, and the king begged me to bring ‘that mysterious Sir Max’ with me. It’s only fair: one must meet in person the man whose cats will give birth to the first Royal Felines. Who knows what kinds of tricks you might teach them?”

“Aw, look at him,” said Melifaro. “He wasn’t shy or nervous in Jafax, but he’s scared to see His Majesty. Trust me, Max, you wouldn’t want to miss it. There will be plenty of amusing people there. And His Majesty himself is a quite a cool guy.”

“See?” said Juffin. “If Sir Melifaro himself approves of it, you’re going to like it. That I can guarantee you. Now, go ahead and have some fun, you poor victims of long-standing diplomatic ties.”

And away we went. That day, our way of having fun was one of the simplest varieties. We went back to Melifaro’s place to pick up the man from Isamon, who was patiently waiting for us in Melifaro’s living room with a proprietary air. The three of us then went to the
Fatman at the Bend
in the New City. The tavern belonged to the wife of our colleague Lookfi Pence. I had promised Lookfi I would visit their tavern, and this was an excellent opportunity.

Lookfi was waiting for us at the door.

“Sir Max, Sir Melifaro! Goodness, what a pleasant surprise! Do come in.” He took a step back to make way for us, knocking over a heavy wooden chair. A female customer shrieked in fright, and Lookfi was very embarrassed. “I’m so sorry, so sorry. I’m such a klutz. Varisha! Come and see who’s here!”