“There are about a dozen. Mr. Parnorsham?” she called out.
“Be right with you, Miss,” called Mr. Parnorsham, looking around the massive body of a lizzie who was standing in front of his counter.
“It’s alright. Let’s go up to the counter,” Terrence told her, though she noticed he put his hand in his coat pocket.
She guided him up the aisle, past two lizzies, to stand next to the one that Mr. Parnorsham was trading with. The creature was evidently buying a pocketknife, which was sitting on the counter top next to a large stack of copper pfennigs.
“One mark five p,” said Mr. Parnorsham, and tapped his finger twice next to the stack of coins.
The lizzie set down another two pfennigs, one after the other.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” said the proprietor.
“How much has he put down?” asked Terrence.
“He’s got ninety seven… now ninety nine pfennigs.”
Terrence reached out and tapped the counter six times. The lizzie placed six more copper coins next to those he had already piled up.
“There you go,” said the store owner.
He picked up the pocketknife and handed it to the reptilian. The creature took it and headed for the exit.
“What can I get for you, Captain?”
“Go see to your other customers. We’re going to… look around a bit.”
“They can wait.”
“It’s fine. Go ahead.”
Mr. Parnorsham wiped his hands on his white apron and then hurried off to the next lizzie.
“I can smell them in here,” said Terrence.
“I didn’t really think they had a smell,” Yuah replied.
“Not like us. They don’t sweat. But I can smell them anyway. It’s so very faint in here, but in Suusthek… in Suusthek…”
“You helped out that lizzie with his purchase…”
“It’s been my experience that the lizardmen are very honest, regardless of what my sister or her government does. They’re also not stupid. And I suppose it’s wrong to blame all of them for what a few did to me.”
“So you don’t hate them all…?”
“Yes I do, God damn it! I do hate all of them. It’s all I can do to keep from pulling this gun out of my pocket and shooting in every direction. If you weren’t here, I would! I swear to Kafira, I would!” Though Terrence’s voice had never become loud enough for anyone other than Yuah to hear, it rang forcefully in her ears.
She looked at him, while his breathing slowed, then she said. “You’d probably shoot Mr. Parnorsham.”
“I know.”
“And it’s not a gun.”
“I know.”
“It’s a pistol.”
“Yes.”
“You should probably keep it in your pocket,” she said.
“Always good advice.”
They stood quietly while Mr. Parnorsham finished trading with all the lizzies in the store, though just as he returned to them, the bell above the door rang and another group entered.
“So what may I do you for today, lady and gentleman?”
“I would like two number four needles and a one spool of thread each of azure, beryl, cerulean, cobalt, and ultramarine.”
Mr. Parnorsham pulled a small envelope from below the counter.
“The needles come three to a package now, but it’s the same price that we used to charge for two.” He walked to the notions counter and returned a moment later, setting the thread next to the package of needles. “Here you go—five spools of blue thread.”
Yuah squinted her eyes and examined the thread, sure that Mr. Parnorsham was either trying to cheat her or make fun of her, but the thread was all of the correct shades.
“Anything else?”
“Not for me, but I’m sure that Mr. Dechantagne is in need of a few things.”
“Captain?”
“I need a tin of shaving powder, whatever kind you think best, and a bottle of Brill-Hair.”
“Very good, sir.” Mr. Parnorsham returned with the items. “Anything else?”
“I also want two jars of Major Frisbie’s green tomato chutney.”
Mr. Parnorsham paused. “Are you sure?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Well, it’s just that your sister doesn’t purchase it. I understand that Mrs. Colbshallow is the official condimentarian, if you will.”
“My sister isn’t here to purchase it. I am.”
“Of course, sir. No disrespect implied.” Mr. Parnorsham retrieved two jars of the chutney from a small stack just inside his large front windowpane. “That will be twenty five p for the lady and let’s see… two marks seventy.”
“That’s roadside robbery,” said Terrence, sounding disgusted.
“Now that hurts, Captain.” And Yuah noted that Mr. Parnorsham did indeed look as though his feelings were hurt. “You know the cost of shipping products all the way from Brechalon. If anyone knows, you should.”
“Yes, he knows,” said Yuah. “Don’t mind him. He’s just in a mood because of all the lizzies here and at his home.”
“Mmm. Oh!” Recognition suddenly rolled across the shopkeeper’s face. “Well, yes I see… of course. You know, I could do without their scaly faces myself. I keep thinking they’re going to open up those great mouths and bite me, like Mrs. Gompers.”
“I have just the thing for you,” said Yuah, and reaching into Terrence’s pocket, she pulled out the large nickel-plated revolver and made as if to hand it to Mr. Parnorsham.
“Hey,” said Terrence. “That’s a family heirloom.”
“Oh, pish posh. You bought that in Brech before we set sail on the Minotaur. And you’ve got at least two more just like it.”
“Oh, that’s a fine weapon,” said Mr. Parnorsham, making no move to take it. “Too much gun for me though.”
He reached under the counter and pulled out a small black pistol. He pressed a button on the side and a clip full of bullets dropped from the handle. After pulling back the action to empty the chamber, he held out the weapon for Terrence.
“What do you think of that, Captain?”
Terrence held out his hand and the shopkeeper placed the pistol in it. He ran his fingers over the smooth lines and sharp edges of the black steel.
“Automatic? Never cared for them myself. What is it—a Tycho Mather C-21?”
“Mather 17,” said Mr. Parnorsham proudly. “Freedonian naval officer’s sidearm.”
“7.65 millimeter?”
“That’s right.”
“How do you get ammunition for it?”
“I have two boxes. More than enough for me. I shot off six rounds to try it out and a dozen more when the lizzies attacked. The rest I’m saving for robbers.”
Terrence handed back the pistol, and then reached out to find his own still in Yuah’s hand. He took it and put it back into the pocket of his greatcoat. He took Yuah’s arm and gently pulled in the direction of the front door. She quickly grabbed their packages from the counter.
“Wait just a moment before you go,” said Mr. Parnorsham. “I’ve got something to show you.”
Turning, he whipped away a cloth that covered a small mechanical device with a wind-up handle on the side. Yuah had seen one before. It was a music player. A wax cylinder sat atop the box which, when wound, would turn the cylinder while a needle ran along grooves in it, producing sound. Mr. Parnorsham furiously cranked the small handle and then moved a small arm over until the end of it rested on the now spinning cylinder.
“I’ve had this for a while now, but I only just got the recording,” he said as music started to emanate from the small machine, followed by a high-pitched man’s voice.
Honey cakes,
My sweet honey cakes,
Honey cakes, I love you sooo-oo—ooh.
You’re more than cream in my tea,
When I see you I cry whee!
Honey cakes, don’t you ever gooo-oo-ooh.
“How lovely,” said
Yuah, as Terrence pulled her gently toward the door. “We must be on our way now. Thank you for sharing that.”
“Appalling,” said Terrence, outside the shop door. “All the music in the world, and that’s what they decide to record for posterity.”
“You could call me honey-cakes, if you wanted to,” said Yuah, her mouth very close to his ear.
“You’re too skinny to be any kind of cake at all.”
Yuah started walking, rather too fast, and Terrence was pulled along at her side.
“This isn’t the right direction.”
“That depends upon where one is going,” she replied.
“We’re going through the gate and out onto the peninsula.”
“Yes. How can you tell?”
“The smell.”
“Does it smell bad?” Yuah asked. “I can’t tell.”
“It just smells like people.”
Just beyond the gate were the first houses that had been built in Port Dechantagne—small one or two room homes for the most part. Beyond those on the left were row upon row of one and two story apartment buildings where the bulk of the population lived. On the right was the militia base.
“Where are we going?” Terrence asked.
“City Hall.”
“Why do we want to go there?”
“I want to say hello to my father.”
“I meant ‘why do I want to go there’?”
“It’s good for you to be seen.”
They walked across the grounds of the base toward the temporary City Hall, which was nothing more than a converted barracks building. Though there were a few who called out a greeting, such as “Hello Captain”, Yuah was unhappy to see that most of the people they passed just stared at the woman leading the blind man. Terrence was silent as they crossed the militia grounds and Yuah had the impression that he somehow knew that people were watching them. When they reached the door of the roughly made twenty-five by two hundred foot building with a small painted sign identifying it as their destination, he suddenly stopped and took her by the elbow.
“Do you still want to marry me?” he asked.
“I don’t recall ever saying that I wanted to marry you in the first place.”
“You said that you loved me.”
“That’s not really the same thing, now is it?”
“Don’t you want to marry someone you love?” he asked.
“I want to marry someone who loves me,” she replied.
“We could have your father do it right now. He’s the mayor.”
“Why do you suddenly want to get married?” asked Yuah. “You’ve never shown two figs of interest in marrying me, or anyone else come to that.”
“I’m a blind man. There’s not a lot I can do…”
“You are going to get your sight back. It’s just a matter of time until we have the curse lifted.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. In any case, I can still provide for a family. I’m on my way to being disgustingly rich. You could be rich with me. And if you have six or eight children, you might even plump up enough.”
“What about religion?”
“I don’t care about that.”
“How would we raise the children… I mean, if there were any?”
“However you want. I leave that entirely up to you.”
She looked at him with one eyebrow cocked.
“I can’t appreciate the look you’re giving me,” he said. “I’m blind.”
“You still haven’t said that you love me.”
“Is that a deal breaker?”
“Yes,” Yuah said, rather forcefully. “It most certainly is.”
“I love you then,” said Terrence.
“Oh, this is stupid!” she shouted, pulling her arm from his grasp. “You’re playing some game with the poor little Zaeri maid.”
“I’m not.”
“We’ll see,” she said, taking him by the arm and opening the door.
She pulled him into the small room inside and past her father’s pinch-faced secretary, despite the beginnings of protestations coming from the woman’s surprised face. She opened the door to the office beyond and found her father sitting at his desk, surveying a series of papers laid out side by side. He looked up, his face shifting from one of surprise to one of pleasure.
“Yuah, how lovely…”
“Papa, we want you to marry us,” Yuah interrupted.
“Muh, muh, muh…”
“Right now.”
Zeah Korlann stood up from behind his desk.
“Absolutely not,” he said.
“What? Why not?” Yuah demanded.
“Um, well… I was hoping to make a better match for you.” Her father shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other.
“You’re not likely to find a better match, Papa. They’re practically royalty. You know that better than anyone. Our family has worked for them for generations.”
“He means that I’m not good enough for you,” said Terrence.
“That’s not what he means,” said Yuah. “That’s not what you mean, is it, Papa?”
“Well, yes it is. And of course there is the question of religion…”
“It’s been settled,” said Yuah.
“You’re too young to get married,” said Zeah.
“I’m almost twenty-seven!” shouted Yuah, with a slight edge of hysteria to her voice. “I’m already an old maid! If I wait any longer, my insides will shrivel up and blow away!”
Zeah stared at his daughter for a moment, watching her flushed face as she gulped for air, her corset and her excitement combining to take her very close to a swoon. Then he looked at Terrence, searching his face for some inkling of motivation.
“I can’t appreciate his look either,” said Terrence to Yuah.
“There’s no hurry,” Zeah said at last. “Why don’t you plan a spring wedding? We can have it done right. A big wedding. Everyone will want to be there.”
“We are doing it now,” said Yuah. “There is no Zaeri Imam, so you have to do a civil ceremony. If you won’t, we’ll go and have Brother Galen marry us under Kafira’s watchful eyes.”
“We need a best man and a maid of honor.”
“You can have your secretary stand in, and get one of the soldiers outside to be the best man. We don’t care who it is. Anyone would be proud to stand up for a Dechantagne.”
Zeah took a deep breath and stepped close to Terrence. “You must take care of her.”
“She will always be provided for,” said Terrence, though it sounded to no one in the room as if they meant the same thing.
It was only a few minutes later when Zeah unhappily began the civil marriage ceremony for his daughter and Terrence Dechantagne. The two of them were framed on either side by Zeah’s secretary Cadence Gertz and young Saba Colbshallow. There wasn’t much to it, really. He asked Terrence if he would love and cherish, and then he asked Yuah if she would honor and obey. They both replied, “I will”.
“I don’t suppose you have a ring?” he asked.
“That’s our next stop,” said Terrence.
Then it was over. He recorded the date on the certificate and all five of them signed it. Oddly, as everyone filed out the door, only Miss Gertz looked really happy.
Though he had yet to move into his shop, Mr. Vever had been for some time working from his home, a small single room house just inside the great wall about half way between the gate and the eastern beach. Here he cut gems and crafted jewelry, occasionally working on watches, though that was not his specialty. He opened his door to find Yuah and Terrence on his front step.
“Mr. Dechantagne, what a surprise,” he said, motioning them inside. “And Miss Korlann, it is always a pleasure to see the most beautiful woman in Birmisia.”
“Back off Vever,” drawled Terrence. “That’s Mrs. Dechantagne now. We’ve just been married.”
The little man squinted through his spectacles at first one of them and then the other and then back again.
&n
bsp; “Funny,” he said. “You two don’t look like newlyweds… Well, what do I know? Come in. Come in.”
“Thank you,” said Terrence, as they stepped inside. “We’re here to buy a ring.”
Yuah began to feel a bit faint and looking around saw a small chair near the door, which she dropped down onto it, sitting sideways so as not to damage her bustle. She waved off Mr. Vever’s concerned look.
“Um, well, what type of ring were you looking for?”
“We need a pair of wedding rings,” said Terrence. “Fourteen karat, I should think. Simple but stylish. Not too big. I don’t suppose we need an engagement ring...”
“We bloody well do,” said Yuah.
“Right. We need an engagement ring too. With the biggest diamond that you’ve got.”
“Well, you might be surprised at just what I have. Wait just a moment.” Mr. Vever stepped to the back of the room and began turning the combination lock on a safe the size of an icebox, which sat against the far wall.
“We shouldn’t waste our money,” said Yuah.
“Five minutes married and already it’s our money,” said Terrence dryly.
“Here we go,” said Mr. Vever, closing the safe and stepping back to Terrence with a small velvet-covered box in hand. Yuah stood up once again to look. “I purchased this stone from a lizzies trader. I paid him quite well, because I’m hoping to get more. I cut it and finished mounting it just last month. I was planning on having it shipped back to Brech. I didn’t think anyone here would be in the market for something this lavish or… well, this expensive. If it’s too much just say so, and I will understand completely.”
Yuah looked as the jeweler opened the small box to reveal a golden ring with a very, very large diamond set amid several small rubies.
“Good God,” she said. “I wouldn’t be able to lift up my arm with that on my finger.”
Terrence reached out his hand and Mr. Vever maneuvered the box into his reach. He pulled out the ring and rolled it around in his fingers.
“Look how it catches the light,” said Yuah.
“How big is it?” wondered Terrence.
“The diamond is six and one quarter karats.”
“Kafira Kristos,” Yuah said in a whispered voice, then put a hand to her mouth as she realized she was blaspheming in the wrong religion. “Well, I mean… It’s bigger than the Queen’s diamond.”
The Dark and Forbidding Land Page 5
