Emirikol Part III scene 12

[subplotkudzu]

The lady of the house gestures again to the chair, and Melas can see that its overstuffed depths are not something from which he could rise in a hurry should that necessity fall upon him.

 

"Signora," Melas begins, "I think it highly charitable of you to take on these decayed mariners for your household staff. Do they give good service? I've yet to begin hiring any lackeys of my own and am anxious to find some chaps who'll get up before I do and not drain the cellar, if you take my meaning."

 

There is another little cough at his descriptor for her lackeys. The hand that isn't holding the letter moves a tatted kerchief up under the veil for a second, being careful not to jostle it enough to reveal anything.

 

"Begging your pardon, my lord, but my servants are hardly decayed. I would know." another cough. "I have considerable experience with mariners of all sorts and I can assure you that they are flexible men, with strong backs. Also, once properly broken are loyal unto death."

 

"I must admit I am surprised by your dear aunt's kindness in sending you with this missive. While she has always been a friend to the Erosas I had never suspected she was aware of my husband's death. Was my house your only port of call, or are you staying in town long enough to need lackeys?"

 

"Oh, I intend to be in Emirikol for some time. Staying with friends for now until I find a suitable house of my own. And, as I said, lackeys. So this is no mere flying visit. I'll be around, and I'd hate to defy my dear aunt's injunctions to look after her friends here."

 

Returning to the ostensible subject, "So, where did you find these nautical chaps?"

 

As opposed to her natural fetid croak of a laugh the Signora tries a charming giggle at this. The result is horrific - like the sound of consumptive children gagging - and she quickly covers for her mistake by a forced cough, which somehow makes it worse. "My apologies," she replies weakly, "I am afflicted by a slight cold."

 

"As for my servants, my dearly departed husband did run a shipping company, my lord, so I have been around 'these nautical chaps' my whole life. I have, had, always availed upon my husband to find employment for all of the sailors who might be injured through no fault of their own while on our books, and were you to go downstairs you would find that some of our clerks and runners bear the scars of martial encounters." She leans in a little, as if sharing a conspiratorial secret, "You show them a path to a better life and they are so charmingly loyal."

 

She claps her hands rapidly three times, and before the echoes had finished reverberating through the Spartan room the doorman had returned to the top of the stairs and two more equally sightless servants entered through swinging doors from sackcloth rooms. They take up positions inside the room, one doing something at the sideboard between the shuttered windows, directly behind Melas, the other two silently flanking their employer.

 

"As for these fine men, they were captured in a pirate raid in the seawall swamps to our west. The creatures there, you understand, are so much different from men, and these poor fellows came out changed by the encounter. So I asked myself, where else could they work? And finding no other answer, I brought them under my roof. And thus far they have fulfilled my every need. So if you are looking for some servants of your own, I would recommend such fellows very highly."

 

Melas gets to his feet. "You've been most terribly kind, Signora, but now I fear I have another appointment which I simply CANNOT be late for. Ta!" And with that he makes a run for the door.

 

"No, I insist you stay," comes Signora's voice, a now with some steel noticeable in the phlegm. Before Melas can make it very far in the dim room, she rotates the mesh over her candelabra and the room plunges into nigh-total darkness. It is all Melas can do to keep from losing his footing, and the stairs to the door are still several paces away.

To be continued