Андрей Кочетков
The Heavenly Lord’s Ambassador. A Kingdom Like No Other. Book 1

The ray of light fell on the throne, and the crystal embedded in it lit up with a blinding burst that made everyone squint. Uni had been looking in that direction to see what would happen next, and he slapped his hands over his eyes. The light from the throne was so bright that it made him dizzy, and the white spots on the backs of his eyelids pulsed with the rhythm of his racing heart. He heard the people around him cry out in amazement and fall to their knees. For the first time in his life, he followed along with everyone else. His only thought was a fear of going blind, and there was something comforting about the crowd and knowing that they were all equal in the face of the Heavenly Deity’s immeasurable power.

The people around him were whispering, but Uni kept his head down and his eyes closed until he heard a deep voice from up above him call out “Most diligent servant of the Heavenly Deity, protector of his people, tireless guardian of everything under the skies, His Majesty the Emperor of Herandia Kergenius!”

Seated at the foot of the great throne in a robe that sparkled with all the colors of the rainbow was the man whose name was spoken with awe throughout the Empire and in all of Dashtornis. Every Herandian knew that the true honor and praise were due to the Sun, however, and at just that moment the fire of its eye on the throne was subdued, leaving nothing but a faint golden glow around the Emperor’s head.

“You are not bowing to me, but to our Lord. I am merely the most diligent of his servants!” Uni recalled the words spoken by Norius. Centuries had passed, but the ceremony remained unchanged, and it still made people quiver in amazement.

Later, Uni could never remember exactly what the Emperor said during the ceremony. There was something about the Empire’s unshakeable foundations, its great mission to support harmony and peace in the world, and the Emperor’s own duty to ensure the prosperity of his subjects. Uni’s whole being was concentrated on the glowing light around the throne. The man standing before him was not the same man who had spoken kindly to him just the other day; no, he was the steward of the Heavenly Deity! If he could have seen himself, Uni probably would have laughed at his enthusiasm. As it was, he stood motionless, staring at the glowing crystal on the throne, all other thoughts and concerns carried away as if by a river. If he had paid attention, he would have found things to add to the Emperor’s statement of the usefulness of initiating diplomatic and trade relations with the Virilans based on “mutual respect and sincere trust on the part of both parties.” And he would have been interested to hear that the Empire was destined to bring the Heavenly Deity’s light to the world, specifically to Virilan, “like opening the windows in an old house to let the sunshine and fresh air in.” But he did not pay attention, only waking from his happy daydream when the sounds of a march reached his ears and a wave of commotion swept through the rows of people around him.

Ontius Sanery left the delegation and, ears at the ready, swept up the grand staircase with a dignity that came from decades of government service. Trumpets sounded when the ambassador reached the foot of the throne. Uni expected to see him bow, but Sanery suddenly turned his back to the emperor and spread his arms wide. From behind, a strange object – part helmet, part mask – was lowered onto his head. Once Uni got a clear view of it, he saw that the object was a lightweight frame made of gold wire. The sky above the square fell silent as everyone waited for the culmination of the ceremony.

“Ontius Sanery, Steward, second class, are you prepared to bear the Great Lord’s will to the leader and the people of Virilan?”

Uni could not see who was speaking, but it seemed to be the Emperor.

“The Lord’s will is like the light of his eyes: it is the same for all of us and a source of joy for each! There is no choice but to obey. Our freedom is in his will!”

“Ontius Sanery, are you prepared to speak for the Great Lord in Virilan?”

“I am ready!” the ambassador intoned after a decent pause. Two priests did something with their hands in front of his face. When they stepped back, Uni saw that a golden mouthpiece had been affixed to the mask on his head, large enough to be visible from the last rows.

“Ontius Sanery, are you prepared to be the Great Lord’s ears in Virilan?”

“I am!” Golden ears were affixed to the mask.

“Ontius Sanery, are you prepared to be the Great Lord’s eyes in Virilan?”

“I am!” Uni murmured to himself. A sliver of envy began to prickle him in a far corner of his heart. How he would have liked to be the first ambassador to that strange country and to be hailed as the one who opened it for Herandia! It was the world of his dreams – why had it been given to someone else? Uni felt like he was at a wedding where his best friend had stolen his bride and the only role left for him was as the groom’s best man. Why was life so unfair, even at joyous moments like this? Was it trying to show Uni his proper place? Yes, he knew his place.

I just want too much, he thought. “I’ve already been given a fantastic opportunity. Or is this a dream inside a dream?” His forehead went cold and he shivered. I must keep my imagination in check and praise the Sun for taking notice of me. Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!

In a flash, Uni felt that he was willing to pray to anyone’s God if only this tiny sprout of success would continue to grow and eventually bear fruit.

Meanwhile, Sanery had descended the stairs to the booming strains of a march. He had not looked the least bit ridiculous in his symbolic mask, and now he carefully carried a scroll. Uni knew that such scrolls usually enumerated the powers of the delegation and contained a greeting to the leaders of other states. As always, he had missed the moment when the scroll was handed to Sanery because he was daydreaming about his own glory.

He shook himself. “I really have to start paying attention! This isn’t the archive. I need to keep my eyes and eyes open at all times.”

When he reached the square, Sanery gestured for the delegation to follow him. In the pushing and shoving that followed, Uni tried to get closer to the head of the procession, but his neighbors used their elbows to keep him where he belonged. All he could do was give his body up to the stream of people slowly making their way through the streets toward the riverbank, singing hymns as they went. When they finally reached the river, Uni saw that the ambassador’s ship was at the dock. His attempts to find his mother or his friends in the crowd following the delegation were unsuccessful.

As he turned his head from side to side, something heavy came down on his shoulder. He spun around and saw the closed helmet of a palace guard. The helmet leaned forward and whispered in his ear, “Enel Virando? Follow me. You are expected.”

“Already? Am I permitted to leave the line?” Uni had lots of questions, but his intuition told him to let it go. As he followed the guard through the noisy crowd, he felt like a criminal until the guard stepped aside and he saw Manelius Ronko standing in a niche in the side of one of the buildings. He was grinning like a cat.

“Most honorable Enel Ronko, I am pleased to see you!” and Uni did his best impression of the long form of Herandian courtly greeting.

The Emperor’s advisor nodded with satisfaction and slapped him on the shoulder. “As I am to see you, my friend! I was disappointed that you ignored my advice about avoiding wine, but I was equally delighted that you made such a fast recovery after that terrible unpleasantness. You are well now, I hope?”

“Yes, Enel Ronko!” Uni tried to look like he imagined a hopeful young civil servant would look. “It was just a dinner with friends. And I’m absolutely fine now.”

“I’m glad to hear it! I was going to give you some final advice, and then I thought better of it. Anything I could tell you would be empty words. You are the one who bears the responsibility from now on. It was my job to find you, and now that the Emperor has chosen you, my job is over.” He leaned forward with a serious face. “That, Uni, is the best way to manage people. Do not tell them what to do – simply help each one find his place. Do you agree?”

“Of course, Enel Ronko. You know more about it than I ever would.”

“Perhaps,” and the man laughed softly. “Is there anything else you want to say to me, Interpreter?”

“I don’t know.” Uni floundered for a second. “Although there is one thing you might want to know. When you took me to the Emperor’s chambers, I saw someone there. He looked like an Arincil. At least, that’s what it seemed to me. That’s all I know. I thought it might be useful to you, but perhaps you already knew about it…” his voice trailed off.

Ronko’s attention was aroused. “Wait. Did you say an Arincil? Are you sure about it?”

“I’ve never seen one in person before, but he looked exactly the way they are described in books. Tall, copper skin, a hooked nose…”

“I see. Thank you for telling me. Do you know anything else about it?”

Uni briefly recounted what he had seen in the back room at the palace, wondering what role his crumb of information might play.

Ronko nodded, deep in thought. “Good. I’ll make use of that. And now,” he said, “it is time for you to go. Your delegation is moving like a regiment of tortoises, but eventually they will miss you.” Then he gave a wide smile that Uni had never seen on him before. He shuddered, but Ronko just winked. “No fear. I have a gift for you. Consider it my thanks for your quick eye.” The imperial advisor leaned over him and held out something with two fingers.

“A ring?” Uni asked, wide-eyed.

“That is correct.” Ronko turned it so Uni could see it from all sides. Then he took Uni by the hand and dropped it in his palm. “Keep this as a talisman of your success on this mission. And wear it in good health.”

“Thank you!”

The ring was smooth in his hand. It almost felt alive, as if made out of some magic stone rather than metal.

“I’ll need to find a leather cord to tie it around my neck,” Uni thought. For the time being, he slipped the ring on his finger. It fit perfectly.

“Just you look at that!” Ronko declared in surprise. “With a fit like that, it must be your fate to wear the ring.” He smiled again, this time with a blend of understanding and even melancholy in his eyes.

Later, as he followed the rest of the delegation onto the ship, Uni couldn’t shake the memory of that smile. He had a feeling that Ronko could see the future and knew what awaited them all. The man wore his smile like a mask because he was burdened with knowledge. It all made sense.

As he stood on deck, it dawned on Uni that he was a pawn in a very complicated game – or even a whole series of games with an unknown number of players – but that he was, nonetheless, a very valuable pawn. It was a risky position, to be sure, but it was also his door to real life. Later, when he thought back to that day, he was only sorry that he had not managed to see his mother one more time or waved to his friends. As the ship pushed away from the dock and started to drift down the broad Fela, Unizel Virando looked away from the banks of the world he had always known and turned his eyes to the bow, from which he expected to greet a new world, a new calling, and a chance at a better life.

Hey there, life! Here you are, carrying me along like the river carries this vessel, and the riverbed itself, in turn, is formed by the hills and the mountains, and those… well, something takes care of those as well. What is the essence of all things being under the Heavenly Deity? How does one even figure it all out? How does one see the world in a droplet of water? Or rise above being that droplet? Hello, Fate! Hello, Good Fortune! Let’s get to know each other!

* * *

The icy cold water tumbling from the artificial waterfalls cooled the air pleasingly. Red, green, and blue lamps hanging in the trees flickered invitingly from the dark woods. Young girls dressed as river fairies sang and danced on small islands to the enchanting music of sitars and flutes. A carved wooden boat with a canopy in the style popular in Ulin was drawn downstream by small canoes shaped like seahorses. Enel Dorgoe was slowly gliding along the winding canals that surrounded his villa, his large body arranged on soft pillows. His left hand held a cup that was made of green glass and filled with sweet Perian wine. Eyes closed, one of the most influential courtiers of the Herandian Empire enjoyed a relaxing moment while making his plans for the morrow.

“Master! Master!” came the voice of Huraria Zhoslo, his butler. The man was jogging along the bank to keep up with Dorgoe’s boat, all the while attempting to bow. “Please accept my apologies for intruding on Your Excellency’s peace and quiet!”

Dorgoe hated to be bothered when he meditated in the evening, but he felt it was his duty to be available to handle important matters. “Come here, my friend” he held out a hand to his servant.

Zhoslo, dressed as he was in an embroidered silver and dark brown robe, jumped into the canal and, up to his waist in water, made a heroic effort to keep up with the boat as it drifted further and further away.

He looks like a bear trying to swim, Dorgoe thought. “I see that you have something important for me,” he said with a smile.

“Yes, Master!” Zhoslo cried out, gasping for air. “Our guest has left the capital and is on his way to the Great Expanse. We have successfully…ensured the confidentiality…of the mission!”

“I am glad to hear it,” Dorgoe nodded and took a sip of wine. “You may hold onto the edge of my boat. I see you are tired out.”

“Thank you, Master!” Zhoslo gasped and wrapped his hands around a carved sturgeon on the boat’s port side, hanging there like a piece of eel grass.

Dorgoe set his cup on a small table with three thin legs, scratched his fat chin with his thumb, and sank into deep thought. It had been no small feat getting the Arincil out of the capital without mishap. But it would be utter foolishness on his part (and he knew it) to assume that his enemies would remain blind to his plans until the whole business was finished.

“Tell Asp,” he turned and rested his left elbow on a soft velvet cushion so he could better see Zhoslo, “that he will answer to me personally for the success of the operation. Personally, do you hear?”

“Right away, Master!” Zhoslo nodded emphatically. “I hope that he is still worthy of your faith in him!”

Dorgoe snorted, setting his cheeks aquiver. The man splashing in the water was the kind of servant who, if shown a chest containing his master’s darkest secret, would dust it every day without even the slightest desire to open it. The de facto minister of foreign affairs reflected that the best protection was often offered by the narrowest mind. Zhoslo had no clue that the small war that would result if the Jaguar returned home (and which Herandia would have to lose) would help Dorgoe discredit the Imperial Army, one of the few institutions that had so far resisted his hairy paws. If things went according to plan, he might be able to replace certain figures with his own people. But no, it was too early to think of that!

His mind returned to what Zhoslo had said about his faith in Asp. “Everyone makes mistakes,” he smiled. “And perhaps it was not a mistake after all. In any case, we have a backup plan. The most important thing is that no one suspect my involvement if the whole thing falls apart. Make sure Asp sends the key witnesses into the Shadows. I think Tameto is entirely too fond of his little men!”

“Yes, Master!” the butler bowed, accidentally putting his face in the water. “Shall I go?”

“Yes,” Dorgoe mumbled. “Would you like some wine?” he suddenly asked, holding up a metal pitcher made in Mustobrim.

“I thank you for your generosity, but I am not worthy of it!”

“Of course. And you still have to swim back. If I get you drunk and you drown, what would I do without you? Now get going!”

Struggling in his wet robe, Zhoslo stumbled along the sandy bottom toward the bank.

The star Utaru in the constellation of the Thief had been watching the whole scene from behind a cloud and winked dryly.

Part II. Blind Nobility

Chapter 1. How to Have Adventures

“Are you sure it’s him?”

“Of course it is.”

The two friends had stopped by the same place many days in a row, but only now was their persistence rewarded.

“I remember his face,” drawled Sorgius, rubbing his fingertips together comically. “Look at him smiling like a reflection in a bad mirror!”

The face of the dandy in a purple robe with gold embroidery who sat two tables away from them really did look like a flattened reflection in a crude mirror, the kind made by Torgendam craftsmen trying to imitate the work of masters from Capotia or the Empire’s central provinces. The effect was intensified by his hair, which was swept up and back in the latest style.

“I bet that haystack would burn if we touched a spark to it,” sniggered Sorgius.

“Only if absolutely necessary,” Vordius replied. “Here I go.”

“Patience, brother,” Sorgius stopped him. “Talking is my specialty. Sit still and watch the expert at work!”

Song of the Star had a dubious reputation among Enteveria’s taverns, and not just because it was frequented by people who earned their living by the knife. In the many years since the popular tavern had opened, no one had ever figured out what drew people to it: the food, the drink, the dancing, the easy women, or the wafting scent of aromatic weeds being smoked? At Song of the Star, family men and their wives sat next to arrogant toughs from the port discussing business affairs that lay most decidedly outside the law, all to the vulgar laughter of courtesans with kohled eyes and rouged cheeks. In this atmosphere, strangers often found themselves on friendly terms, and Sorgius used that fact to his advantage as he moved in on his target.

“Hello, old friend! You haven’t been here in ages. What are you drinking?” He eyed the man’s cup. “Never mind.” He caught the eye of a server and gestured confidently. “Waiter! Bring us a jug of Tasquilian dry!” And then, with a grin, he turned back to the stranger, who was now on his guard. “No worries, it’s on me.” The two young women who had been sitting with the man smiled brightly at Sorgius and waited to see what would happen next.

“I want to drink the health of these lovely ladies, so we must have the best wine!” he announced to his new friends. Two of the three smiled.

“Tasquilian is worth the money,” the man drawled as he put an arm around each young woman, “but we prefer dark Vuravian grapes.”

“Of course, I remember,” Sorgius leaned back in his chair, looking delighted. “You drank something like that two weeks ago. That was the time you were here with that little redhead. The one that came over and joined me later.” There was steel in his smile now.

“What little redhead? Asked the woman on the left. Her voice was deep and impressive, like her cleavage.

“I have no idea what he’s going on about,” the dandy tried to look indifferent. He attempted to change the subject back to wine. “I’m surprised you like Tasquilian. It knocks you off your feet.”

The young women laughed again, but this time awkwardly.

“Don’t you remember?” Sorgius pressed on, crossing his legs and staring down his adversary. “Her name was Fenia. Or was it Fellia? She told me all kinds of things about you. For example…”

“That’s enough!” cried his victim. “We weren’t bothering you. Why don’t you find another table? There are plenty of empty ones.”

“Oh, don’t get all riled up. I just want the address of that little redhead. She got me three sheets to the wind that night and then up and disappeared before I could get to know her better. You understand!”

“I don’t know any redheads!” the dandy insisted. He turned to his companions, “Don’t listen to him – he’s drunk!” Then he leaped up from his chair and quickly made for the exit.

“My goodness,” Sorgius raised his eyebrows. “How long has he been having these fits?” The young women glanced at each other, at a loss for words.

“Here you are again, fooling around with the women while your whole purpose goes up in smoke,” someone hissed in his right ear. “Just keep sitting there, big professional!” It was Vordius. As soon as he spoke, he was gone.

Sorgius pushed his chair back. “Ladies, this will just take a minute!” he tossed over his shoulder as he raced after his friend.

The two women cried foul. “You forgot to pay!” It was their first attempt at hunting for fat wallets among the ladies’ men of Enteveria, and they ended up having to pay out of their own thin purses for a jug of the most expensive wine in the house.

* * *

“Keep up with him no matter what, even if he notices you. When he turns around, wave at him friendly-like. I’ll be on the other side of the street…”

Sorgius looked doubtful. “What if he gets in a carriage and drives off?”

But they were in luck. The dandy passed by the waiting carriages and hurried down the Avenue of Twelve Virtues, trying unsuccessfully to melt into the crowd. He turned around frequently to see if he was being followed, and soon caught sight of Sorgius. This sent him skittering into a side street. Sorgius ran after him.

Again, he was in luck. The narrow lane was lined by high fences, and when the dandy finally found a gap and tried to slip through it, he ran right into a hulk of a man who threw him easily against the fence on his right.

“Watch out, Sorgius!” Vordius called to his friend.

His shoulder bruised, the dandy sized up the situation and pulled out a short dagger.

“Stay back or I’ll draw blood!” he said hoarsely, his eyes darting from one to the other.

“What is that you’re holding?” Vordius asked, hands on hips. “Civilians in the Empire are prohibited from carrying weapons of war…”

“Let me go!” screeched their victim, waving the dagger.

“…and I’m going to have to confiscate that from you,” the Imperial Guard finished his sentence.

He leaped smoothly to one side, tossing his cape over the dandy’s head and easily knocking his feet out from under him.

He picked up the knife while the dandy writhed in pain. “This isn’t good for much more than peeling apples, but you could put your eye out with it.” He stooped and retrieved his cape. “Now, what’s your name?”

“Sermey,” the dandy whispered. “Senius Sermey. I have money,” he touched his belt. “Just let me go!”

“Money is nice,” Vordius smiled, “but that’s not what I need from you.”

Sermey’s eyes were as round as plates as he imagined all sorts of unpleasant things.

“What I need is information,” Vordius continued in a conciliatory voice. “Now tell me, Senius Sermey, have you ever tasted a human eye?”

Poor Sermey’s heart was racing so hard that it almost broke through his chest.

“I see that you haven’t,” Vordius smiled and looked around in a stagey manner, as if to assure himself that they were still alone. “But there’s a first time for everything. There is a cocktail called Eyeball. You take an eye – yours, for example,” and he gestured with the knife, causing his victim to flinch. “You add two egg yolks, white wine, and a little salt. Do you know what you end up with?” he suddenly roared right in Sermey’s face. The man shook. His face was wet with tears, and the ground under him was wet with something else entirely.

“You end up with something really stupid!” he spat in the man’s face. “Because a nice young man like yourself ends up missing an eye. And why?” he asked, turning to Sorgius with a predatory smile. “Because he was too stupid to tell to fine, upstanding men the name of his girlfriend.” He paused. “She’s about five fens tall, red hair, green eyes, and she has a mole on her left cheek.” Each word hit Sermey right between the eyes.

“No, no!” he cried, his nose running. “She doesn’t have a mole. I swear it by the life-giving power of the Sun!”

“No mole?” Vordius repeated joyfully. “Then give me her name, where she lives, and her parents’ names. Slowly and clearly!”

Sermey wiped his face. “Her name is Fenia Brazelo. That was the only time I laid eyes on her, I swear!”

“That’s too bad. I’m sorry for you,” Vordius sighed. “Your choice. Left or right?”

“No, don’t! I beg you! May the Darkness take me if I’m lying!” Sermey was already foaming at the mouth. “The barber Taney brought her to the Fish that night. Ask him about her!”

“Who is this barber?”

“You don’t know Master Taney? He cuts the hair of many upstanding men,” the dandy tried timidly to gain ground.

“I don’t have to know him if you do.” Vordius chuckled. “Tell him I’ll be waiting for him today when the Heavenly Deity sinks to its outermost palace. I’ll be in the Ravine of Divine Song, just a few steps south of the Old Grotto. Tell him he’s mixed up in an attempt to assassinate an important member of the government. If he declines to spend an evening with me, he’ll spend the next few years in prison. The one we call Heavenly Submission!”

“I will tell him,” Sermey stuttered. “I’ll go right now.”

He stood and righted his dirty robe.

Sorgius turned to his friend with wide eyes. “I’m beginning to be afraid of you sometimes. This man is a nobody, but you worked him over like he was a black-hearted villain!”

“May I have my knife back?” Sermey piped up.

“Of course,” Vordius bowed. “I’ll lay it in your cold hands at your funeral. Now,” he barked, “get moving, scum! Or else this dagger will play havoc with your eyes…”“He’ll be here,” Vordius sneered.

The ravine was an excellent place to watch the sunset, but the friends had more important things on their minds. As always, Sorgius had studied the situation from all angles and chosen the least pleasant possibility to discuss in an attempt to rile his friend.

“We should have gone to his house…”

“Don’t tell me you haven’t figured it out, Sorgius! The dandy with the funny hair ran off as soon as you mentioned the girl, and that means he could smell his bacon frying!”

“I know that,” Sorgius sighed and scratched at a spot on his chin he had missed while shaving. “I’m worried about who the girl is. She didn’t look like a courtesan, and you can trust my experience on that!”

Vordius slapped his shoulder. “You certainly had time to look her over!”

“You can laugh if you like, but I didn’t.”

“What? Do you mean to say…”

“I do. Everything went just as I told Sermey and his girlfriends back at the Song of the Star. It was the first time in my life I felt used by a woman, if you can imagine.”

Vordius shook his head. “Well, you can cry about it if you want, but you’ll have another chance to win her heart once we find her.”

“How kind of you!” Sorgius turned his head to look up the path. “I’ll let you talk to the scissors man on your own. I don’t like watching you torture people!”

“Fine, if you’re that soft. Go sit in the bushes and wait until I call for you. Did you remember to bring what I asked for?”

“I most certainly did,” Sorgius threw a canvas sack over one shoulder and walked off into the underbrush.

Vordius stretched, rolled his shoulders, and strolled out from under the trees onto a bare patch of ground. Many years ago, before the opening of Enteveria’s central park, this place had been a popular spot for evening entertainment. Now, it looked wild and empty. When the young guard heard footsteps, he closed his eyes. “A man. Weighs about two hundred and fifty baklas. Short and stocky.” When he opened his eyes again, he was pleased to see that he had been right. All his eyes could add was the fact that the man was bald and wore a thin, black moustache with an unpleasant smile under it.

“A bald barber,” Vordius said. He scratched his head and returned the unpleasant smile with one of his own. “Just like a shoemaker with no shoes.”

The new arrival walked up and showed his teeth. “So you’re the handsome fellow that scared my friend half to death? That was a bad business. A very bad business. I hear you love the ladies. Redheads. Is that right?”

“They’ll soon be teaching you about love in prison. My name is Vordius Onato, and I’m a nicor in the Imperial Guards. Here is my badge. I’m investigating the attempted assassination of a high-level civil servant. We believe the redheaded girl had something to do with it. You have a choice. You can tell what you know about her to me, here and now, or you can tell it to the inspectors at Heavenly Submission tonight.”

Taney’s ugly smile turned really foul. His pig-like eyes were defiant, and his tiny mouth disappeared in the fat rolls of his chin.

“Boss, I’m as clean as a prison bowl after breakfast. I had nothing to do with it.”

“We’ll find out just how clean you are, you can be sure of that,” Vordius grumbled, cracking his knuckles.

“I’ll be happy to prove it,” Taney said sweetly. “I have a whole crowd of witnesses, and they can’t wait to tell you how innocent I am.”

The back of Vordius’ head went cold. Seven men suddenly stepped out from under the trees, and it didn’t take more than a glance to see that they were riffraff, young men from poor families who had willingly chosen a life of causing bodily harm to others.

“Let me introduce you to my apprentices,” Taney said. “They help me with my toughest customers.”

The young men nodded.

“Boys, this honorable Enel from the guards of our most beloved Great Lord Kergenius has asked us to render him services at home.”

The thugs laughed and made a circle around Vordius.

“Why at home, Enel? We can render you services right here. Snip-snip and you’re all done,” growled a man with a red beard and a fat nose as he drew a dagger.

Vordius didn’t move a muscle, but he was wound tight as a spring inside. He needed to do something and quick. He couldn’t take on the whole gang by himself.

While he was thinking, Taney stepped up and looked at his belt. “Look at what we have here! A sword. Just the thing for cutting hair. Enel Onato, will you allow a humble barber to demonstrate his arts?”

Without waiting for a response, Taney slowly put his hand on the hilt. The gesture violated everything Vordius believed about proper behavior, and there was only one possible reaction. He grabbed the man’s fat hand and twisted it hard. Taney cried out and fell to one knee. In an instant, one of the apprentices grabbed Vordius by the hair while another – a small hoodlum with a Capotian face – knocked his feet out from under him. Taney stood up, a shining razor in his hand. The phony smile was gone, replaced by an expression that boded ill for Vordius.