The great bronze doors swung shut behind them as the trio of green maids escorted Artman and Maven into the opening hall of the manor proper. Even a wizard like himself had to admit it was a good parlor trick, at least. Artman was already trying to figure out the mechanism worked, before Maven nudged him to check his surroundings.
Surrounded on either side, red curtains, deep crimson in the chandelier's twinkling lights, flanked the entrance, with a wrapping balcony above that. The chamber widened into a semicircle, where a set of stairs descended to shared landing with a large polished oak door, nestled into the space between the stairways leading up to the balconies.
Artman looked around curiously and whispered in Mavin's ear, "It's like a theater." he said nervously. Mavin shrugged. "I guess he's comical, at least." she frowned a bit.
"This wasn't here the last time. I know that much. Herod was as miserly as they come, but the Yuletide wasn't half bad." A subtle twitch of something mischievous crossed her faced. Artman didn't ask.
All the green maids stepped back from the formation and formed a line off to the side, one rang a pull cord tucked behind the curtains. The sound of trumpets blared and the door between the stairs opened. The girl stepped back in line with the others to the side. Before Artman or Maven could consider it, a figure appeared in the now open doorway, filling it completely.
"Ahh, Good Wizard Wolfram. A delight to lay eyes on you at last. Oh, and who is this?"
The figure of San German was that of a round tomato. Bulbous and dressed in bright scarlet and gold, a white shirt underneath layered in silk sashes and pocket chains, all of which were necessary in holding the strained outfit together around the rotund man.
Artman starred back, puzzled, and the globe shaped man palmed his own face.
"Oh, forgive me sir, I've gotten my introductions out of order. I am Roberto Hermeticies San German, and welcome to my humble manor." he tried to bow, but put himself at risk of bowling over instead.
"Artman Wolfram, I'm honored by your invitation." Artman replied, giving his own bow in return. He could feel San German's smiling face turn slightly to fix its gaze on Maven.
"And Maven, she's my assistant and model." Artman explained, putting a hand on her shoulder almost protectively. San German paused and then laughed a moment.
"Of course, I should've guessed. No wonder your work caught my eye. You have the eyes of a sculptor, my friend. Impeccable detail." the big red man giggled to himself a moment longer before making a gesture to line of servants to the side.
"Thank you ladies, but I think I'd like to show our guests about personally before they see the new facilities I've prepared. Also-" He checked one of his four watches, "It's soon to be lunchtime, run off to the kitchen and get the fires going will you?" with a wave of his hand, all the ladies in green took their leave as polite as can be, and appeared to vanish into the walls.
"Lovely things, aren't they?" San German crooned. eyes following the path of the missing maids.
"Well, this way, I have much to show you before the meal is ready, and I hope you have an appetite for foreign cuisine. Because I can't get enough of that Southern Ocean curry."
He waved in the bewildered couple on the landing. "Come in, come, I have such a sight to show you."
Artman and Maven hesitantly stepped in behind the eccentric round man and followed his waddling stride into the next room. Inside, Artman couldn't help but be amazed, confused, and perhaps a little frightened.
Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.
The chamber was mostly round, with a fireplace center and a false window on the right.To the left was standing San German, hovering like a giddy schoolboy over a glass display case. One of many that filled the room, even though certain artifacts lay about in the open. Everything from painted shields of bizarre warrior traditions, the shrunken heads of those same warriors sitting beside them. Medallions, rare coins, rings and various apparatus and ornaments of a design that was simultaneously elegant and strange.
"All prizes from my adventures, gifts from strange and savage lands. Come look at this." He happily pointed to a curved dagger, almost a scythe blade, made of a sickly green colored metal under the glass.
"Found this in a place called Punjekka Raponanon. Barbaric place, thick jungles and lots of serpents. But the locals are frighteningly intelligent. Smart enough, they made this savage beauty." He then pointed to another, a bronze blade of true antiquity.
"Over here is a blade rumored to have belonged to King of Akron, circa 2,000 years ago almost. That sword slew his rival at the Battle of the High Pass Bridge over the Grizzly River." he chuckled to himself. "Shame, the old boy lost in the end. Someone should've told him not to fight wars in winter." He laughed at his own joke a moment before catching sight of Maven staring at a doll, sitting on a self amidst the collection of desiccated heads and devilish figures. smooth snow-white features and red markings about her lips and eyes, contrasted by raven black hair held up by golden hairpins, and dressed in bright silks. A regal bearing like that of a queen or strange goddess among the collected demons.
"Ahh, I see the image of sweet Empress of Ling Poe has caught your attention." San German called out, clasping his hand on her shoulder. The weight of his touch made Maven flinch. "Ah, yes, she's so beautiful. I couldn't help but stare."
"Don't be shy, she's not an actually Empress. But she was the most beautiful woman to have ever graced the beds of kings and scoundrels alike." San German crudely winked at Maven with an eye full of implication. "Though foreign charms have nothing to compare with the stock of one's own country," Leaning in to kiss her hand, while Maven tried to restrain her disgust and look flattered.
In Artman's opinion, she looked ill from constipation.
"Um, what about this piece?" Artman pointed to a small wooden idol sitting in the corner, a grotesque and twisted thing that vaguely bore the resemblance of a fish. San German turned to see and abandoned his affections towards Maven, greedily rubbing his hands together as his eyes sparkled at the prospect of flaunting a piece of hoarded treasure.
"Ah, I see my tribal god has caught your eye. This one's from a people that, sadly, no longer exists. It's one of five in my collection. Worshiping old gods in a place that used to be under the sea before turning to desert, there said to contain the power of devils. This one, if I remember correctly, contains the power of the demon fish Muk, the bringer of storms." He paused, noting the curious expression on Artman's face.
"How did you come of it?" Artman asked, giving time for Maven to put some distance between her and their host. Artman kept San German's attention fixed on the idol.
"Oh, that. A trader friend of mine gave it to me. A souvenir from his time in the jungle, and thanks for saving his life from the savages hunting him for the crime of desecration." Artman nodded along, letting San German tell a wild story of intrepid explores, savage pursuers, and harrowing dangers.
But as the story drew on, Artman felt his gaze flitting around the room for an escape. Maven gave him a pitying expression and turned back to ignore them both from a safe distance.
Her eyes came to rest on a particular medallion. Sitting in the case, it was an old iron circlet. The lines faded by the dark colors of time made the inscription difficult to make out. But she could see the lines of an eight-pointed star clearly enough. A formation they fearfully recognized.
She quietly tucked the growing sense of uneasy into the back of her mind. This charm wasn't active, and likely hadn't been for a long time. But the markings, while not a traditional style of charm, it was close enough to another, similar form, to make a guess what it could do.
A bell sounded in the distance; a San German checked his watched.
"Oh, dear me, I've wasted all this time showing you my collection, instead of the manor. Dear me, I'm so forgetful sometimes. The dining hall is this way, though we may take a detour through my trophy room if you'll be willing to indulge. I've the most fantastic collection of stuffed beasts from every corner of the globe and possibly beyond."
"Thank you, but-"
"Oh, it won't take more than a second to-" A second bell hushed the enthusiastic man as he sighed.
"My waiter, no doubt. He gets cranky when I miss a meal. Fine, it will have to wait until after lunch. But in the meantime, I'll bet you're wondering why I want your Wooden Man so badly."