“Juffin, do you really eavesdrop on every word that flies out of my mouth? And you still haven’t gone mad?”
“Eavesdrop? Oh, spare me, Max. Your mindless chatter isn’t the least bit interesting to me. It’s just that I always know what’s going on with you. It’s a quirk I have, a character trait.”
“No, no, it’s okay. I’m flattered,” I said and smiled. “Besides, it’s very useful, too, because I don’t always know what’s going on with me. You should tell me.”
“I just did.”
We got out of the amobiler and entered the Anmokari Castle. Juffin walked slowly and carefully so as not to disturb Kurush, who was dozing on his shoulder.
We stood before a cool, empty hallway that seemed to go on forever. When I made my first step in it, my knees trembled: the floor, walls, and ceiling had mirror-like surfaces. They were made from dull, smoky glass that multiplied our reflections infinitely and rendered them into sad, beautiful ghosts. The misty multitudes of creatures timidly copied our every motion. It sent my head into a tailspin.
“I know. You can really lose your equilibrium if you’re not used to it,” said Juffin with a nod. “A strange place this is, but the king likes it.”
We managed to cross that mysterious infinitude and finally ended up in front of an open door leading to a relatively small and cozy hall.
“You should be happy that this is a business visit and not an official one,” said Juffin, winking at me. “Remember what happened at Sir Makluk’s?”
“Do I! Compared to that high-life reception, all the rest of the events in your neighbor’s house were a joke.”
“Indeed. Well, an official reception here would have been even more entertaining.”
“I can only imagine.”
“No, you can’t, Max. I swear by the Magicians you can’t. We are, however, going to take a small ride. Get ready.”
“Well, if it’s just a small ride, I don’t mind.”
We were surrounded by a few dozen young courtiers in embroidered looxis. They bowed so low that their heads almost touched the floor. They gave us looks of poorly concealed curiosity. Not without pleasure I noticed that my Mantle of Death inspired respect rather than superstitious horror. Maybe the courtiers were nice, well-educated young people, unburdened by superstitions.
Finally, the palanquin bearers arrived. I had acquired social graces by now, so I immediately flopped onto one of them. Sir Juffin graciously settled himself onto another. The bearers took us to a large hall that was modestly called the Minor Royal Study. It was as empty as most living quarters in the Capital. In Echo people don’t like to crowd rooms with too much furniture, and I, for one, welcomed this custom wholeheartedly.
The palanquin bearers disappeared, leaving Juffin and me alone. The king was nowhere to be seen, though.
“This is all part of the etiquette,” said Juffin. “His Majesty has been burning with curiosity since morning, but good manners require that he make us wait at least a minute. He rarely keeps his visitors waiting longer.” Juffin tickled the soft feathers on Kurush’s back. “Wake up, my friend. Time to get to work.”
Kurush, displeased, puffed up his feathers. He always hated waking up. I understood him very well.
His Majesty King Gurig VIII didn’t wait even the customary full minute. A little door at the far end of the room opened, and a handsome, youthful man who looked like a young Johnny Depp appeared before us. He was wearing an elegant, hand-embroidered purple looxi. Instead of a turban, the favorite headgear of all local dandies of the past few centuries, he wore a simple hat. Later I learned that the shape of the royal headgear had been canonized many millennia ago. This was the kind of hat favored by Mynin, the most illustrious monarch of the Unified Kingdom, who had reigned centuries before.
“I see you as in a waking dream!” said the king, covering his eyes with his hands and turning to me.
I smiled. I hadn’t had the opportunity to show off the official greeting that I learned on my first day in this World. I mostly met guys who didn’t think much of all these highfalutin manners. But praise be the Magicians, I had practiced enough in my time to respond to His Majesty accordingly.
“You only visit me when you run out of excuses, Sir Hully,” said the king reproachfully. “I was expecting you a hundred days ago. Not with a report, like today, but just for a friendly visit. You did get my invitation, didn’t you?”
“I did,” said Juffin. “But you know as well as I do what went on at the Ministry this spring, Your Majesty. We had to manage without Sir Max, just like in the old days. So instead of enjoying your company, seated at your table, I ran around Echo like an errand boy, chasing the mad Magician Bankori Yonli. He almost killed Melifaro, I should add. The boy now has quite a neat-looking scar on his face. I suspect he deliberately put too little healing ointment on it, so he looks like a true hero.”
“What are you saying? The youngest son of Sir Manga nearly died? That would have been very bad. Very bad, indeed. And who is this Yonli? I do not recall,” said the king, frowning.
“The Grand Magician of the Order of the Tinkling Hat—remember that odd sect of King Mynin worshipers? Yonli fled from Echo during the reign of your father, and returned this spring to take revenge on Grand Magician Nuflin. I couldn’t imagine why he’d want to do such a thing. Our Sir Nuflin Moni Mak is such a gentle fellow. Never hurt as much as a fly in his entire life.”
His Majesty was kind enough to burst out laughing. Even I couldn’t hold back a smile, though I felt extremely shy. I always needed time to relax in the company of new people. Considering the fact that I had never had the pleasure of being in the company of a king before, the paroxysm of shyness was severe.
I could feel, though, that His Majesty Gurig VIII was also feeling uneasy. I realized that he and I were plagued by the same feelings. I’d never thought there might be shy kings, to tell the truth. Right away I felt a great bond with His Royal Majesty. It was so satisfying to learn that he, too, shared my insignificant human problems.
“Please be seated, gentlemen,” said the king. He pointed at a set of high, soft armchairs by an open window. “The treat for Kurush was brought in beforehand. Help yourself, dear sir.”
I liked the way Gurig addressed our wise bird with such dignity and called him “dear sir.” I even felt a little envious that I hadn’t thought of it first myself.
“Darned protocol,” said the king. “My courtiers believe that the study should only be used for business affairs, and that I should have meals in the dining room. Is it not ridiculous? I prefer to combine these two pleasurable activities, just as you do, Sir Hully. What do you think, Sir Max?”
It struck me then that His Majesty was genuinely interested in my opinion on the matter.
“Your Majesty cannot be more correct in saying so. It would be impossible to survive at the House by the Bridge if one were otherwise disposed.”
I had to muster all of my will to speak in a normal voice, and not to mumble under my breath, staring at the floor.
“Would it, indeed? It is comforting to know there are still contented people in this World,” said the king solemnly. Then he brightened up and said, “But this morning I told my Master of Ceremonies that I would resign if he didn’t at least serve us kamra here. The poor old man ground his teeth but had to submit in the end. Today I won’t have to feel that I am the stingiest master of the house in the Universe. Sir Kurush, are you prepared to do some work for us?”
The bird stopped eating peanuts and began relating the great deeds of my colleagues to the king. I think I listened to him even more attentively than the king did. I finally had the opportunity to find out, in great detail, what the guys had been up to while I had been roaming the labyrinths of unexplored Worlds. Their lives seemed much more productive and full of events than my own otherworldly existence. It even made me a little upset: I had been missing out on all the fun for a whole year.
Kurush talked for almost four hours. While he was at it,
though, he managed to empty a whole plate of peanuts and even ask for another helping.
We didn’t have to starve, either. It turned out, though, that the kamra-making skills of the Royal Cooks couldn’t compare with those of the cooks at the Glutton Bunba. It occurred to me that I would never consider getting involved in a plot to overthrow the king and appropriate his crown—his hat, that is. There was simply nothing to gain by it.
When Kurush finished, the king nodded his head in frank admiration. “You are the only citizens of the Unified Kingdom for whom the adventurous spirit of days of yore has not become just another page in the book of history. I must confess, I envy you, gentlemen.”
“But Your Majesty, we are certainly not the only ones,” said Juffin, smiling. “I’m sure the lives of our clients are much more adventurous.”
“Yes, indeed, but they have to pay a very high price for it,” said the king.
“Sometimes they do.”
“I think retribution is always unavoidable, for they have to deal not just with anyone but with you. Well, I have truly enjoyed your company, gentlemen. May I ask you to stay for the official visit of the warriors from Arvarox?”
“When are you expecting them?” said Juffin.
“Quite soon,” said His Majesty, looking out the window. “If the sun is not deceiving me, they should be in the Minor Reception Hall any minute now. I should very much like you to stay—primarily because those gentlemen may be in need of your assistance and, of course, your guardianship.”
“Sir Max and I will be happy to fulfill any of your wishes, Your Majesty.”
“Any of my wishes, you say?” said Gurig, laughing. “I will bet a hundred crowns that I have at least a dozen wishes whose fulfillment is unlikely to make you very happy.”
Juffin mused over the thought for a moment and then said, “I would have to decline the bet, I’m afraid.”
“I thought so,” said the king, winking at Juffin.
I was steadily leaning toward becoming a monarchist. I was growing to like the head of the Unified Kingdom more every minute. It’s too bad we’re both so busy, I thought, and have such different occupations. Under different circumstances, I think I’d become friends with this fellow.
“I think this gentlemen has just fallen asleep,” whispered the king, pointing to Kurush.
“That is his most natural state,” said Juffin, smiling as he gently covered the bird with the flap of his looxi. “Would it offend Your Majesty if the bird slept through the entire reception?”
“Sir Kurush may do as he pleases in my palace.” Gurig VIII looked at the buriwok with the genuine admiration of an amateur ornithologist.
The Minor Reception Hall was in reality so huge that I couldn’t make out the faces of the courtiers standing by the wall opposite me. Beautiful Aloxto Allirox was standing immobile in the middle of the hall. This time he showed up without his spider-like pet. He probably had no idea that the king was such an avid lover of animal life.
By his feet lay his weapons, and behind him stood his entourage—about a hundred mighty warriors, clad in the same inflexible capes and soft boots, all light-haired, yellow-eyed, and handsome like Aloxto Allirox. The courtiers looked at them with well-meaning curiosity.
With a barely noticeable movement of the hand Sir Juffin Hully motioned me to come closer to him. We stood to the left of the Royal Throne, which was the rule. The area to the right of the throne was crowded with numerous noblemen. Next to them stood a single middle-aged gentleman. He was wearing a blue-and-white looxi, which meant that he belonged to the Order of the Seven-Leaf Clover, the Single and Most Beneficent. He bowed ever so slightly to Juffin and me. A more formal greeting was not allowed by the rules of etiquette.
Finally, the king entered the hall. Slowly he ascended the gem-encrusted stairs to his throne, the back of which seemed to tower over him. He bestowed a sympathetic smile on Juffin and me, then solemnly sat down on the throne. His expression was now one of unassailable, icy grandeur and boredom.
“I greet you, stranger.” When the king spoke to Aloxto, his lips barely moved. “Tell us who you are and what matters have brought you to us.”
Aloxto lowered his head in a respectful bow and began with the same old song that I had heard on the ship: “I am Aloxto Allirox of the clan of Ironsided Hoob, ruler of Aliur and Chixo, Sternlooking Master of two times fifty Sharptooths, powerful and loyal warrior of Toila Liomurik the Silver Bigwig, the Conqueror of Arvarox, who rules it all the way to the ends of the World, the Waterer of the Royal Tree of Spicy Flowers, the Keeper of Table Rugs, the Bearer of the Third Cup at the New Moon Feast after the Spouse and the Senior Cupbearer, the Eternal Helmsman of the Royal Boat on Lake Ulfati who has the right to wear bone boots on Zoggi needles, the Locker of the Royal Chamber and Master of Fifty Keys, the Chief of the Reprisal of Isisorins, the Speaker of the Ninth and Twelfth Words during the Royal Game of Launi, the Slayer of the Kulyox Bird with just two glances, one hit, and a bit of wit, the Bringer of Three Handfuls of Coins to the Tomb of Kwarga Ishmirmani, the Maker of Fire under the Royal Vatla Caldron, the Speaker of the Tongue of Morions, the Eater of the Mayushi Pork in two and a half gobbles, and he who made two times fifty songs about his own great feats.”
Will you listen to him? Such an important guest. Juffin couldn’t restrain himself any longer and sent me a call. You and I will never live to see the day when we get half that many titles, my boy.
Yeah, especially since yesterday there were half as many of them, I replied. He must have stayed up all night coming up with new ones.
I’m afraid I’m going to have to disappoint you, Max. No citizen of Arvarox is capable of “coming up” with anything of the sort. Yesterday, he simply thought that you and Melifaro were too low in rank to hear all the titles of such an important personage. Naturally, our king deserves the honor of hearing him deign to reveal a little more about himself. I think when this guy gets to the gala thrown by his mighty Dead God, or whatever they call their maker, he’ll be talking about himself for twelve years in a row, nonstop. That would be the first chance in his life to say absolutely everything there is to say.
Juffin’s silent broadcast was interrupted in a most unusual way. Kurush, who had been dozing under Juffin’s looxi, finally woke up and wanted to get out.
“I want to look at those people,” said the bird.
“Of course, my friend, of course, but please be quiet,” whispered Juffin to the buriwok, and put him on his shoulder.
Then something incredible happened.
Aloxto Allirox, the “Master of two times fifty Sharptooths,” whose back never bent low in a bow, fell silently to his knees. His forehead met the thick carpet with a soft thud. His entourage followed suit.
“O mighty buriwok!” moaned Aloxto, his voiced tight with constrained excitement. “O mighty buriwok!”
I thought our esteemed guest had lost some, if not all, of his marbles.
A wave of confusion swept through the Minor Reception Hall. Even Gurig’s majestic expression had to give way to ordinary human surprise.
“Citizens of Arvarox tend to exaggerate our mightiness somewhat,” said Kurush in a calm, quiet voice. “Although all humans are inclined to exaggerate.”
“You’re right, my friend,” said Juffin, smiling. “But let’s not try to persuade this nice man otherwise. Perhaps he should keep his delusions. They may come in quite handy. Don’t you think, Your Majesty?”
“I completely agree with you,” whispered the king. “It’s such a pity that we didn’t know this before.”
Meanwhile, Aloxto had more or less come to his senses. He looked at Kurush with great reverence and admiration. “I am honored beyond words! How can I repay you for this honor, O mighty buriwok?”
“I am here because such is the will of His Majesty King Gurig VIII and the Venerable Sir Juffin Hully, by whom I am employed. If you wish to express your gratitude, you should express it to them, for it is they who have honored you. Now, get up from y
our knees, my children.”
Juffin and I exchanged a couple of dumbfounded glances. Kurush had spoken so regally that if I had been the king, I’d have given up my throne to him right there and then.
“Never in my life have I dreamed of such an honor,” murmured Aloxto nervously, his lips turning pale. “Toila Liomurik the Silver Bigwig, Conqueror of Arvarox, will never forget the honor that has been bestowed upon his messengers. He will order that no less than a thousand songs be written to commemorate this event, and I will write the first one myself.”
The king, praise be the Magicians, had already gotten the hang of the situation. He smiled indulgently and said, “We have decided to bestow the honor upon you because of our friendly feelings toward Toila Liomurik, which have remained unchanged. In addition, we are still ready to assist you in your difficult ordeal. I should be very, very happy if you would be kind enough to accept our help.”
The last sentence sounded more like a command, however politely phrased.
“I will do as you wish,” said Aloxto.
“Your words please me,” said the king, smiling ever so slightly. “Sir Juffin Hully, who is present with us now, will be waiting for you tomorrow in the House by the Bridge. I am certain that he and his colleagues can turn the World upside down to restore justice, the longing for which made you cross all the oceans of the World, chasing the brazen fugitive. Fare you well, gentlemen. I have been delighted with your company.”
I knew that Gurig was being absolutely honest. We were all delighted, especially Kurush.
We went back to Headquarters. On the way there, Kurush behaved like a newly crowned emperor.
Juffin locked the door of his office, and we both gave the puffed-up bird a long inquisitive stare. The buriwok was cleaning his feathers nonchalantly.
“Don’t you think you ought to explain yourself, my dear fellow?” said Juffin. “What happened between you and the beauty boy back there?”