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

“You are correct, young man,” rang out a pleasant baritone. Uni turned and saw a man slightly taller than himself, with a slight paunch and gray eyes that shone with a sincere smile. It was the smile that surprised him more than anything.

“Forgive me, I was engaged when you arrived,” the ambassador continued. “Groki here undertook to entertain you. I hope he was not…overly familiar.” At this, Sanery’s smile grew even sweeter.

Uni gave what he hoped was a proper bow. “Of course not, we had a delightful time.”

Sanery bowed slightly, in perfect accordance with palace etiquette. “Let us take our conversation into the other room,” he gestured with a plump hand toward the room he had just come out of. “Please, follow me.”

Suddenly overcome with shyness, Uni walked quickly into the room, only afterwards remembering that he should have let his host enter first. Sanery made no notice. Shutting the door behind them, he gestured for his guest to sit down on one of the cushions arranged on the gorgeous red and gold carpet. “In Mustobrim, they say that chairs put unnecessary distance between people. I’m sure you are as motivated as I am to establish good rapport during our first meeting.”

“Of course,” said Uni, nervously glancing around the room. He noted the whitewashed walls and the pale blue frieze. The ceiling was supported by four columns of carved wood, and the elegant carved screens and bookshelves between them created a pleasant place for intimate conversation.

“Antiques from Mustobrim,” Uni realized in a flash. Long ago, he had seen a very old book that described rooms just like this. “All that’s missing are the weapons on the walls.” Just then, he noticed a pair of handsome daggers hanging on one wall. He was impressed by the ambassador’s simple good taste.

He turned to face the man. “Esteemed Enel Sanery, it would be an honor for me to work with you to further the good of the Empire and our Heavenly Lord! Allow me to humbly hand you my recommendations, which confirm…”

“No need!” Sanery waved a hand at the scroll Uni held out. He invited Uni to sit down on a cushion and did the same. “These formalities are a waste of time. The Emperor wishes for you to do the job, and there’s no one else who can do it. It’s already been decided. Anyway, that’s not why I wanted to see you, Enel Virando. Would you like some tea?”

“I would, thank you. You can call me Uni. That’s what my friends call me.”

The young interpreter immediately took a liking to Sanery. He didn’t feel like he was talking to a much higher-ranking nobleman. His new superior was very approachable, and his round head, with its bald spots and slightly protruding ears, gave him an almost humorous air.

Sanery stretched his legs out. “They say that wine is the drink of the wise, and that grand ideas come to those that try it,” he said with a twinkle in his eye. “Do not believe it! Tea is the wondrous drink that brings man closer to the greatest secrets of life. The Mustobrims drink it without the addition of other herbs, but very hot and very sweet. It’s an expensive habit, but worth it. You should try it. You’ll like it!”

The fashion for tea had reached the Empire via Capotian merchants, but it did not grow in Capotia. As far as anyone knew, it only grew in the Land of the One True God, where the monks used it to stay awake for prayers that lasted for days at a time. Sevelia Virando had been known to object strenuously to the Capotians introducing good Herandians to their odd tastes solely so they could fill their deep pockets with more gold. Uni began to suspect that his new superior had done his part in enriching the Capotians, who controlled all the trade in tea, including its sale in stores throughout the Empire. Nonetheless, he gratefully accepted the dish of tea he was handed and imbibed the steaming liquid. It left an unfamiliar but not unpleasant taste in his mouth.

“Wonderful!” he exclaimed.

“I’m delighted to see you have no trouble adapting to foreign customs,” Sanery praised him. “I think you will make an excellent diplomat. I was told that you know a great deal about Virilan in addition to the language. Is that so?”

“Your praise of my modest talent is flattering.”

“Oh, there’s no flattery here. Believe me, the key to a country’s heart is a solid knowledge of its customs and traditions. It’s also the best way to achieve what you want in negotiations. All barbarians – all foreigners, I suppose – tend to trust those in whom they see something of themselves. It’s the only way to approach them. Serious proposals, flattery, even gifts are pointless if you are unable to gain the friendship of the person you are negotiating with. That is the first rule of imperial diplomacy.” He gave a wry smile. “Did you think I just collect these things,” he waved a hand around the room, “because it’s a hobby?”

“Of course not!”

“You did. Everyone does. But let me tell you, all the things you see in my home play an important role in my missions. Do you know why I’ve never had a mission fail? I’ll tell you. It’s because of these things.” Sanery looked around the room with obvious pleasure. “Yes, these antiques are my best helpers in the difficult work of diplomacy. How else could I gain such a deep understanding of a foreign culture? You must know more than what is on your partner’s mind. That’s the first mistake most diplomats make – they try to calculate everything, as if people were pieces in a board game. Remember this: even the most influential people live by feeling, emotion, faith, and all sorts of other irrational things. Only the Heavenly Deity can possibly know everything about a culture!”

Uni’s head was swimming. “You mean the things you collect help you take on the character of the people you negotiate with?”

“Of course. You can’t begin to understand a Torg if you’ve never run your hand over the skin of a wild animal he just brought down. And you’ll never understand a Mustobrim if you’ve never tried tea. I won’t even start on the Arincils. I see you’ve understood me perfectly. I will take that as a sign that we will work well together.”

“I’ll do everything to keep from disappointing you, I promise!”

“I have no doubt that we will enjoy the greatest of trust. You’ve never been on a delegation before, but don’t let that worry you. Everyone has to start somewhere. I know next to nothing about Virilan, so you will be my teacher.”

“How could I ever be your teacher?”

“I mean exactly what I said. You aren’t just my interpreter. One of your most important jobs will be to keep all of us from making mistakes.”

“Do you mean…”

“Exactly! Every culture has unwritten rules of behavior. Imagine some sort of prohibition that a local would never think of violating, but a foreigner would know nothing about. You will be responsible for keeping us out of hot water.”

Uni nodded. “Because there’s no one else who can do it.”

“Precisely. I will not bore you by reminding you of the heavy responsibility on your young shoulders. I will just warn you that there will be times that you will have to be my eyes and ears.”

“I understand. This is amazing…and unexpected. You are too kind to me, Enel Sanery!”

Sanery beamed. “You aren’t afraid of hard work, I see. I hope that’s because you are young and strong and not because you’re flighty and lacking in experience.” He let that sink in for a second. “And here’s another rule of diplomacy. The entire delegation must act as one. There is no room for personal ambition, keeping score, or worship of rank. All of that must be left at home. All of us must help each other and work together to ensure the success of the mission.”

“It sounds so noble, Enel Sanery!”

“There’s nothing noble about it. It’s survival, my friend. I don’t know how you imagine it, but a delegation is nothing pretty. It’s two dozen men torn from their home country and sent to a far-off land where the people may be hostile. The road there takes months, and you spend each and every day of that time with the same people. Can you imagine it? Everyone’s usually sick of each other by the second week. The smallest conflict can spark trouble and ruin everything. Add in danger, brigands, excessive cold or heat, unfamiliar food, illness – everything conspires to work against the mission. Here at home, in our lovely capital, we bow to men of rank and ignore those without it. But when you’re in a foreign land, your servant may be the one who ends up saving your life! Of course, we retain our ranks, but we leave the ceremonies and the snobbism at home. Actually,” he coughed, “there will be plenty of formality during the negotiations. Once those start, you’ll have to stay on your toes.”

Uni was elated. “Thank you for telling me these things! All I can say is that my friends and coworkers have always found me to be friendly and easy to get along with. I promise I won’t cause any trouble. The success of the mission is my only goal, and I swear by the Heavenly Deity that I’ll do everything I can to help achieve it!”

“Very good, young man. I have no doubt that you will. I have dealt with all sorts of people in my time, and I can tell that you are sincere. Working with you will be a pleasure. We leave in five days, so I suggest you prepare yourself for the trip.

“Five days?” Uni gasped.

“I, too, was surprised,” Sanery admitted. “But they say you were at the council meeting, so I suppose you already know the reasons behind the urgency…”

Uni did his best to look intelligent. “Ah, of course. It’s obviously a matter of government importance!”

“Then let us lose no time. You will be informed of the time and location of our departure ceremony.” The ambassador stood up. “I expect to see you again at the palace, Enel Virando!”

He walked Uni to the gate and saw him off most politely.

“What a delightful person!” Uni reflected. “He talked to me quite as if I were his equal. That’s a true diplomat for you, nothing like the arrogant fools in the chancery!”

Warmed by these thoughts, he raced home to pack for the trip. His first thought was that he should treat his friends to dinner the night before he left. A few painful memories presented themselves, however, and he decided it would be a better idea to host his friends two days prior to his departure to avoid showing up at the palace hung over. “From now on,” he told himself, “wine will only be a sign of good things to come. I’ll throw a party to bury ‘Little Uni’ and show all my friends what I’m capable of in this life!”

As soon as Uni was gone, Sanery’s face fell. He turned from the gate and went back to his study, where he was met by his secretary. Obviously impatient, Zimius Groki had brought in a heavy scroll.

“Well, what do you think?” the ambassador asked without prelude. The polite smile was gone from his face, and even his prominent ears seemed to fold back against his head.

“He’s too sure of himself, Enel Sanery. If you want to know my opinion, he’s too young. He immediately gave himself away!”

Sanery sneered and walked over to a large window with carved casings that looked out into a small courtyard. Colorful fish lazily swayed in the dark water of a decorative pond carved out of Vuravian stone. Tall cypress trees cast long shadows that divided the pond into a grid pattern that was ignored by its phlegmatic inhabitants.

“The boy’s eyes were the size of dinner plates the whole time I was talking. Do you really think he’s Ronko’s spy?”

“I have no doubt of it, Your Honor! It makes sense. Ronko wasn’t able to get one of his own men appointed ambassador, but he is counting on the interpreter to be a key figure. The boy will keep his patron informed, and he will try to influence the outcome. I’m confident he has already received his instructions. I heard that Ronko was dead set against having a second interpreter, even though that goes against all the rules for diplomatic missions.”

“I never expected a boy of that age to try and catch me by the gills.” Sanery thought for a moment. “Is it possible that we are making too much of this? He didn’t strike me as having any experience of intrigue. He’s too young, and he’s never held a post outside the archive…”

Groki made a face. “It pains me to see you wasting your time worrying about it. No matter what he’s up to, he isn’t worth your attention.”

“That’s jealousy talking, Groki.” Sanery chuckled. “The boy will be a key figure in the game, once it starts. I can tell that much. And if Ronko wants to use him, let him try. I may just turn around and use him against Ronko.”

“Do you think it’s possible?”

“Why not? People like Uni are easily influenced. They don’t like being ordered around, but they’ll tell you everything they know if you make nice with them. Ronko will be too far away to control his protégé. He conceived of this delegation as his own personal triumph, but he’ll get the opposite result.” Sanery’s lips curled into a smile. “This will be worth my playing a comedy for a little while.”

“Licisium Dorgoe will be very pleased. He may even make you head of the Diplomatic Chamber!” Groki rejoiced.

“I doubt it. He is keeping Eusenium Hamery for that purpose, even though you couldn’t make the old toad do his job if you threatened to hang him. I heard he skipped the meeting with the Emperor to discuss this delegation. Heart pains, you see. He lets Dorgoe handle all of our foreign affairs without actually having a title or any responsibility. There’s no way Dorgoe will get rid of him. He knows I’d put a stop to his meddling right away.”

Groki had another idea. “Your Honor, what if Ronko has other people on the delegation who will try to interfere with your plans?”

“If it were only Ronko’s people. You can’t imagine how many nobles have approached me about getting their people put on the delegation. I won’t be surprised if someone offers me a bribe equal to that paid for the position of a guild minder just to get some relative or other assigned to the delegation as a baggage carrier! I’ve served the Emperor for many years, but this is the first time I’ve seen such frantic interest in a diplomatic mission.”

“There is too much at stake this time. A trade treaty is a delicate morsel, and many mouths are watering.”

“True. But how am I supposed to captain a ship where every sailor is trying to tip the boat? Impossible!”

“Do you know who the deputy ambassador will be?”

“I’m afraid I don’t,” Sanery sighed. “Time is short, but the mighty and powerful will continue to fight until the Emperor chooses someone they all equally dislike, just to make my life unbearable. Mark my words, that’s exactly what will happen!”

“That is too bad. Still, it would be useful to identify the people who have their own agendas.”

Sanery’s eyes narrowed. “I expect Virando will be useful in that regard. Once we reach Manibortish, I will announce that we are hiring another interpreter. Those who object will out themselves as Ronko’s men. I call it ‘fishing with live bait.’”

“That’s an excellent plan. What about the rest of them?”

“The rest of them? Did you bring the list of candidates? Give it to me and we’ll see what’s going on.”

Chapter 6. Friends

The Sleepy Fish Tavern was an establishment with an unmistakable reputation. It was not the kind of place where a carpenter from the River district or a scribe from one of the city squares could eat and drink his fill after a day of hammering or writing. No, the Sleepy Fish was a place for epicures and gourmands. Passing under its modest sign, lucky visitors encountered true culinary magic, where the food was created – not merely prepared – by masters of gastronomy. Guests were drawn in by more than the opportunity to enjoy the best dishes from among twelve different regions of the Empire. What really lured them in was the chance to observe the mystic rituals performed in the service of gluttony, and they were only allowed to enjoy the final product if they had reservations and a sizeable wallet.

Of course, Sevelia Virando was opposed to the scheme from the very beginning. When Uni remarked cautiously that he and his friends had decided to celebrate at the Fish, she merely smiled the smile of a loving mother and inquired in the same tone why they didn’t want to celebrate at the restaurant in her inn. She offered good, simple home cooking, and his friends could spend the night in some of the rooms upstairs. Uni nodded politely as she spoke and waited for her to run out of ammunition.

When she was done, he took a deep breath. “That’s exactly what I told my friends, Mother. It was my idea to have them come to the Happy Trout.”

“What did they say to that?” Sevelia asked, brows raised. What she was really thinking was: You certainly don’t need friends who think they’re too good for us!

“They said what they always say, Mother. That your inn is perfectly hospitable and comfortable. They stop by the inn often enough: you must know they like it.”

“Did you not agree with them?”

“I’m always happy to eat your cooking! But if you think about it, what with my appointment…”

Sevelia’s voice went up a notch. “It’s a celebration for all of us. I raised you alone, I bought you shelves full of books, I found you that job at the archive, and now that the Emperor has noticed you and you’re being sent on an important delegation for who knows how many months, you refuse to spend your last evening at your mother’s restaurant.”

“Mother, how could you possibly see it that way?”

“Is that an accusation?”

“Mother!” Uni was losing patience. “We would be perfectly happy to spend all day here. But. There is one thing. That I have to warn you about. As your son. To avoid unpleasantness.” It cost Uni a great deal to keep his voice down. “Sorgius Quando will be with us.”

“Merciful Sun, what do you want with him?”

“I know he has a bad reputation, but he’s one of my best…”

“Reputation?” Sevelia stared at her son in horror. “What kind of reputation do you think he has earned? He seduced a young woman who was supposed to become a Virgin of the Sun, and he only escaped death because of his father’s ties to the Emperor’s chancery!”

“Mother!”

“Hush. Everyone knows about it! And do you know what else people are talking about? About how he vomited all over the wheels of the priest’s carriage during the Great Sunrise procession, and it happened right after he left my own inn. He earned his reputation. I’m not sure how you expect me to feel about that.”

Uni began to wonder if he had made a tactical error. After the incident during the procession, Sorgius had become a hero among certain circles.

“I’m sure he’s the one who came up with the idea of going to the Fish.” His mother’s face was flushed. “Tell me, did he promise to pay for everyone? Did he? Everyone in the capital will say that you sold out to that villain as soon as you were appointed to an important post. Is that what you want?”

“Oh no, Sorgius wanted us to get together at the inn. He knows he had a little too much beer that one time, but now he’s…”

“He will not set foot in here. And as for you…”

“He’ll have a lady with him too.” Uni managed to get in.

“He won’t bring his whores here, either! I never did understand what women saw in him. He’s short, with shifty eyes and a hooked nose. Ah, but they want his fat wallet and his invitations to expensive restaurants. Why does he have to mix you up in it?”

“Mother, you’re hurting my feelings! It was Vordius’ idea to go to the Fish.”

“Is that so?” Sevelia’s brows went up again, this time in surprise.

“He knows you always loved him, but he has special news to celebrate, too. He was finally promoted to nicor in the Imperial Guard.”

“Is that true?”

“Just think, he’s the youngest nicor in the whole Empire!”

“I’m not the least bit surprised. Vordius Onato was always an ambitious boy! And smart, and good-looking, and now he’s a nicor! You were always sitting around reading, but Vordius knew how to connect with the right people. How many times did I want to introduce you to useful people when they came into the inn? But you were always locked away in that archive. I’m proud of Vordius. I wouldn’t be surprised if he makes suffect before the age of thirty.”

“Mother, in case you’ve forgotten, I have something to celebrate, too, and it all started in the archive.”

“I hear you. And there’s another thing: Vordius found himself a young woman, and a beautiful one at that. What are your plans? You can’t live the rest of your life among the rats at the archive.” She reached out a hand. “Why don’t you find yourself a wife while you’re in Virilan?”

Uni cut her off. “Speaking of wives. Now that Vordius has a new rank and some confidence in his future, he wants to announce his engagement to Luvia.”

“That’s wonderful news! You should have told me that when you first came in!”

“He’s bringing her along to dinner, and he wants it to be at the Fish so he can impress her with the Carmadanian flowers and calimri nectar. Mustobrim celu balls wrapped in fasa leaves with a sweet sauce. Fillet of grabinus so thin that it melts on the tongue. Don’t you agree that Luvia is worth it?”

“Of course she’s worth it. But what about you? When will I see you with a girl like that?”

Uni stood and put a hand over his heart. “I swear to you that as soon as I arrive in Virilan, I will immediately abandon all my official duties and go looking for the most beautiful young women of that mysterious land, and I will keep looking until one of them expresses a willingness to become my wife.”

“You little fool!” Sevelia laughed, once again in a jolly mood. She was quiet for a moment. “Have you considered what you will wear? It’s a special evening and a very expensive tavern. You can’t go looking like you sleep in the street. I want everyone to see that my son is an important official, not a basement rat.”

Every evening, the Hankilow bridge turned into a city market and an unofficial fashion show for the capital’s most privileged classes. Herandia had an ancient tradition of setting up market stalls on wide bridges, but the opportunity to see and be seen was a new one, emerging only after guild reforms caused some of the most expensive tailors in Enteveria to relocate to the stone bridge. Soon, they were joined by shoemakers and perfume sellers, and wealthy clients flocked to the bridge to buy the latest fashions and then immediately display them as they strolled through the market. Eventually, the city built a new stone gallery over the bridge, where grand nobles and their lovely companions could amble leisurely among the expensive goods and show off their superiority from a (literally) lofty height.

The gallery was immediately occupied by sellers of roasted nuts, honey biscuits, flowers, and other treats to brighten the mood of those members of society who, because of their high rank and great wealth, had little else left to wish for in life.

Licisium Dorgoe fit most comfortably into that category as he ate almond pastries, one after the other, from a wrapper made of thin rice paper. He had always loved sweets and had no qualms about anyone knowing it. In any event, the small balcony (built into the gallery for the single purpose of enjoying the sunset) where he stood was completely hidden from the public. The only people around were a couple of sleepy Solar Sentinels.

Unfortunately, the sight of the merciful deity – decked out in red and purple – did nothing to improve the mood of the Emperor’s closest advisor, who had never been much of a romantic. He was visibly on edge, which caused his clumsy fingers to crush the pastries before sending them to their heroic death in his noble mouth. Once he heard familiar footsteps behind him, however, his breathing slowed and his face took on its usual air of self-satisfaction. A man with long, dark hair joined him on the balcony.

It had always been a mystery to Dorgoe why Tameto – a born cavalryman – walked with the swinging gait of a sailor, but he had no time to wonder about such things. Tossing the paper full of crumbs into the waves of the Fela, he turned halfway and greeted the new arrival in a pointedly polite voice.

“Tameto, my dear friend, how glad I am to see you on this delightful evening! But why, for the love of the Deity, do you always look like a man who has drunk too much Markutanian fermented milk and is desperately searching for a privy in which to relieve himself?”

“Don’t get cocky with me, you old heap of goat shit!” the general cut him off. He did, in fact, look odd, especially around the eyes, which stared into the distance without actually focusing on anything. Dorgoe guessed he’d been indulging in dramdalaki, a traditional pastime of the nomads in the Great Expanse that had become popular with soldiers serving on the Empire’s northern border. A fire was built and stones heated inside a tightly sealed leather tent. Once it was hot enough, someone took a dipper full of a liquid obtained by boiling a secret blend of herbs and poured it out over the stones. Those who had tried it said that the main thing was to stop in time, because it was easy enough for the soul to depart for the world of eternal joy beyond the clouds, leaving behind only a slightly cooked body.

Dorgoe permitted himself to hope that Tameto would, in fact, overdo it someday soon. Aloud, all he said was “So much for greetings. What did you want to say about what I proposed yesterday?”

“You think you’re smarter than the rest of us, don’t you?” said Tameto. He stepped to the railing and spat a wad of Ulin chewing bark into the river. So, you’re sending your own delegation at my expense. Did you really think I’d stand for it, you stinking boar?”

“Listen here, horse-lover,” Dorgoe growled, towering over his crude companion with his sizeable frame. “Some things will always be beyond the understanding of a military man. I put your men on the mission. Have you paid me back for that? Or did you think I wasn’t aware of the task you gave them?”

Tameto’s warlike fire left him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said dryly.

“You don’t know? You’re not in the wasteland anymore, my friend, and the walls have ears. My ears. May lightning strike you and your idiotic brothers-in-arms. I had my suspicions when you came out so strongly in favor of the delegation, and now I know why you did it.”

“You can’t prove anything,” Tameto snarled. He pulled his head into his shoulders.

“I don’t intend to prove anything. I don’t have to! I’ll just toss your fools off the delegation, that’s all. Do you have any idea how many people are begging me for a chance to go?” Dorgoe’s eyes narrowed. “When I’m done, I’ll whisper a word about you to His Majesty, just to keep him informed. Can you imagine the consequences?” He paused to let that sink in. “You’ll have to play fair with me. If you want me to leave your men alone and let them do their work for you, you’ll have to help get my man over the northern border. In the position you’re in, those are strikingly fair terms.”

“May you and all the other palace eavesdroppers and parasites rot in the land of darkness!” Tameto exclaimed, his jaw muscles clenched. He closed his eyes, and after a moment asked a question that was to the point. “But in terms of trade, you aren’t against the north, are you?”

“Don’t make me laugh!”

“Fine. I’ll see what I can do…” Tameto said with a scowl. “Who is going, and when?”

“As soon as possible, my friend. As soon as possible. I’ll have the man brought to your camp in two weeks. It may take a day or two longer than that. He will have a letter from me, of course. Give him two reliable men and make sure that they don’t breathe a word about it. For your own sake, if for nothing else.”

“I give no guarantees,” Tameto croaked. “The Virilans don’t like outsiders. All I can do is get him there. I’m not responsible for anything after that.”

“Of course,” said Dorgoe, and his heavy face looked like a mask from a theatrical comedy. “Just get him to the border. That’s all. And make sure your two men don’t come back. Then you and I will be even.”

Tameto cursed instead of a goodbye and stomped off. Dorgoe watched him go with a mixture of laughter and contempt.

“They’re all like children,” he said to himself. “I’m surrounded by idiots.”

* * *

“Dag, brother, you’ve made it!”

Dag Vandey had tried to keep his face serious for a moment, but then lost his touch of reserve, smiled and hugged Vordius with his full embrace.

“I got some business to be done, bro, but now, when two of my friends have such important events in their lives, you know…”

He welcomed Uni, having come a second later, and pet his wheat-blonde hair.

Here he comes again, thought the interpreter with a touch of annoyance, treating me like a child.

Naughty-looking companion of Sorgius wrinkled her nose and whispered to Sorgius, “Is he your friend, really? He looks as if he came to the funeral.”

That is a sort of a funeral, dear. We all know that engagement is the first step towards the grave, the little Vuravian wanted to say but didn’t.

“If he could trade his gloomy gazes, he would have gotten rich long ago. Then, maybe, he would dump his troublesome and unpromising job as a lawyer of those sorts of ragamuffins, preventing him from seeing his friends as often as he used to,” said Vorgius instead.

“Hey ho to thee too, a leech on the people’s neck!”

Vandey stretched his arm to grasp Sorguis’s forearm, according to the Gerandian custom, but Sorgius ducked down, put his arm around his friend’s waist, and tried to pull him off the ground. Dag only rolled his eyes thoughtfully, and then, in turn, lifted Sorgius up.

“Grab the legs, Vorgius! Let’s dunk the bastard in a vat of beer!”

Vordius took the summons to repeat their old game all too seriously, and it was hard enough for Uni to get the guests seated without the almost formal occasion turning into a farce from the start.

“Did you find it fast?” He asked Vandey to put the conversation on a neutral footing.”

He nodded, “Yes! Though, as you know, I am a rare guest to such places.”

“Can you guess why they named this place the Sleepy Fish?” Sorgius Quando asked, glancing around.