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Then it ended. The ship burned, despite the extra resilience the amazing Akard-Velgsin process conferred, and both Essar and Helsodenk Nifkleskir lost the liberty which they put to such unworthy use. Not until later did Dirant hear how soldiers of Noiswawau and Swadvanchdeu fell upon him only to trip over one another, or how “one another” in fact referred to Stansolt Gaomat, who opted not to embarrass his Dvanjchtlivan compatriots by correcting their misapprehension on the subject when they started shouting about it. Regardless, the collision allowed the Bodan-Tin troops to seize Helsodenk. The statement Helsodenk made at his capture, according to Stansolt, contained far too much of the ancient malice of the old tribes for it to be intelligible to a modern and mild Sivoslofer. As for Essar, he had to be frozen into the shape of a monument to Brawny Knight physique for the guards to extract, whereupon they wheeled him out and placed him in a cage before he thawed.
The triumphant final cry of the victors shook every pebble and grain on the beach out of its accustomed place. “When you collapse, we'll drag you to the party bonfires,” Keiminops promised them, and many of the nearly one hundred combatants took immediate advantage of the deal.
“Sometimes even nephews have something to say,” declared Poiskops while he clasped hands with the Dvanjchtlivan leaders and avoided responding to any suggestion of a prisoner transfer. “The strictest authorities on festivals stipulate there are times for a celebration spontaneous and unrestrained glee. Who is the man who despises revelry? Bring him to Drastlif for his cure.”
Giving commands and ignoring the protests of the prince and lord treasurer, Poiskops hustled over to the Ritualist area, grabbed Dirant, and made his point before anyone could catch up to hear. “A schedule gone awry and the able become indispensable, like the sudden wind that tests the rigging. I want popcorn for this. Can you do it?”
“Provided either the box is undamaged or the house generously allotted for my use is intact, it ought to be possible. I see to it now with your permission, Stanops.”
“Run like Tyagwin, Sajaitin,” exhorted the oligarch. The idea came across for all that the allusion escaped Dirant, and he ran at the fullest pace his stats permitted.
Soot had fallen on the gazebo, which had avoided the conflagration by having no Bodan-Tins or Paspaklests in it. More soot and ashes had blown into the service closet and dirtied both the box and the design where it sat on the shelf. That required careful cleaning, a simple task for the careful Ritualist. The careful anything really, though Ritualists preferred not to spread that knowledge around. Of course certain tools were required so as not to mar the design. Dirant dashed to his house, enough of which survived to shelter his implements. With those and a client, a Ritualist might accomplish wonders.
A Drastlifar poked his head through the pavilion's window some ten minutes later. “The work is accomplished in one minute more, you may tell the Stanops,” Dirant informed him.
“The splendor of success illuminates you, Sajaitin. But we need you to identify someone at the, er, the erstwhile gate.”
“Ah?”
The Drastlifan sentries hoped to enjoy the advantages of Dirant's expertise with regard to his own company, the messenger explained. A group of Adabans were claiming to be employed by Stadeskosken and to be making a delivery in accordance with their instructions. They unquestionably had cargo with them. Ordinarily the matter would have presented no difficulty or even notice, but with all the deceit and scoundrelry about, confirmation was desired. Since cooperation and Stadeskosken never left a room unless together, Dirant headed over. Contrary to his expectations, he did recognize the six employees and their noble wagon.
“Hello, Mr. Onkallant. Is this perhaps a job for an anonymous client?”
Onkallant Paspaklest laughed and winked the least sly wink in the country if not the continent. “It's practically so, for a fake name isn't far from none. How is it here? Getting into too much trouble, or?”
“Yes, far too much. Is the cargo also secret, or?”
“I wasn't told so, but nobody in Drastlif would understand what it is anyway. A load of popcorn, specialty varieties bred for flavor, huge amounts, too much for anyone. But is everything all right here after all? There's a certain smell.” The six employees and the horses too sniffed throughout the meeting as if engaged in a contest to become the champion of irritating noises.
For a moment, the multitude of possible responses overwhelmed Dirant. Should he satisfy first Onkallant's curiosity, relieve for his own sake the terror of the recent hours by unfolding the grisly tale and letting the details fall to the floor, or else prioritize the advancement of Stadeskosken's interests by settling the delivery situation? Not the first one, he decided, since he doubted the depth of Onkallant's curiosity as a general personality trait. Not the second either, since activity had long since driven out his worry. The Drastlifars were cheerful enough also. The third, then.
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He consequently arranged the wagon's admittance, its unloading at the gazebo, and for a message to be sent to the Stanops before he informed the newcomers of the most salient facts they must know to mingle comfortably at the festivities soon to commence. Amazement and stupefaction resulted, which reassured Dirant the recent events were no usual thing. He had begun to wonder.
The state of the town, disordered by fire and then frost, proved that something had occurred, which prevented the Stadeskosken employees from doubting Dirant Rikelta's honesty. Not that they ever would, what with the second half of his name. The shindig preparations already underway on the beach supplied more evidence. After noticing the presence of Dvanjchtlivs of a non-tourist, non-mercantile sort, skepticism gave up and repaired to its lonely tower to look over the world and doubt.
“What can a man do to deserve fortune as constant as this?” asked Poiskops Bodan-Tin when he learned that not only was the popcorn facility intact and operable, but that a very confiscatable load of specialty product had been ordered by a man who, if he was not in reality Helsodenk Nifkleskir, ought to have clearer about his identity. “The one excuse for plenty is that we can share it. Here by my decree begins the celebration!”
The Drastlifars cheered, and hearing that, the Dvanjchtlivs did as well. They would have felt silly had the oligarch's speech been the signal to massacre them, but the morals of their host preserved them their dignity. The meat went on the spits, the runners began ferrying in popcorn which even the crown prince of Noiswawau and lord treasurer of Swadvanchdeu had to admit to be a delightful novelty if only out of politeness, and lovers of game, sport, and points looked at Dirant with beseeching eyes.
He complied. Battle's frenzied rituals had wearied his voice but not his line-scratching tools or his desire to offer the consolation of immaculate scoring systems to townsfolk beleaguered by disasters, not to mention the chance he had to show off. Onkallant came over and inspected the painstaking creation of fields sure to raise his own class above others in glory. That suited him better than worrying over being the intended victim of a sinister plot. “I almost wish for our father never to find out,” he said on that subject. “It's impossible of course, but it's such an unfair thing to put on him. Ah, the world is how it is no matter what we do. There's another thing that maybe we can take some action regarding, Mr. Dirant.”
His head down and his staff sketching away, Dirant kind of listened and sort of answered. “Is it the number of points given? There is little science behind the current values. My advice is that you write a pamphlet on the subject.”
“No, no, the sole improvement to your excellent field here can be nothing but betting. On me, not by me. There's some advice for you. No, it's these Akard-Velgsin ships.”
Dirant backed off and frowned at his latest achievement. “Ah, and you are right to worry, though whether there is anything for us to do is less clear. Miss Desabas and her people may soon experience a shock, certainly, but be assured the monsters left the lord treasurer's crew alone. I suppose the action we might take is to write to the broadsheets in Yean Defiafi of the situation so that they spread it. The story will be mangled of course. That is insignificant so long as the existence of a problem is understood.”
Onkallant seized Dirant's hand and shook it Drastlifanishly. “When I hear you put it out as easily as that, I wonder how I live from day to day. That's just what we'll do. I must stop bothering you now. Unless you bet against me!” He let go and laughed, though for him, not laughing was the more notable circumstance.
New tennis courts came to stand atop the vanished marks of the old much as inhabitants of modern cities could find classical waste dumps if they dug below their basements, if they had basements, which Drastlifars generally did not. Igwodan-Tin trainees saw to that without being ordered, since Posmeterin was taking a nap at the time. They were completely aimless and uncontrollable only when someone was around to control and aim them.
Their skills honed by blunt repetition, the illustrators finished before the competitors were ready, occupied as they were with the town itself. Though full repairs waited on daytime and materials, some propping up and hauling down on the part of the physically capable seemed judicious, not to mention fetching the favored dolls of children not as frightened as they ought to have been. The two ambassadorial deputations assisted, first by putting together a lovely suspendable cage to display Helsodenk Nifkleskir and subsequently by converting devastated buildings into functional shelters through Dvanjchtlivan military techniques. Both Prince Ozovramblidaj and Lord Treasurer Boij Ogleript initially offered a more significant and lasting improvement in the form of conquering the marshes and annihilating the monsters within, but Stanops Bodan-Tin refused to impose upon their generosity by forcing them to bring in a thousand more Dvanjchtlivs who would have to stay there for the several months they predicted the operation would require.
The contest for the title of most helpful foreigner was on, despite the absence of a formal announcement. Dirant, unable to vie with the Battlers and Myrmidons as far as Strength, decided to impress with his versatility. From drawing he moved into the popcorn distribution industry, and the delight the Drastlifars and Dvanjchtlivs displayed when for the first time they tasted authentic GE flavored specialty varieties gave him a memory he would cherish and bring up during licensing negotiations if any such took place.
“It is a mistake to infer too much from a casual comment, and still less from a pointed one,” Dirant mused. “Most likely the Stanops engages in habitual flattery when he implies an interest on Keiminops's part. That makes the best hope of profit, and therefore the noblest hope, the discovery of his actual plan. I must either act with boldness now or else forget the matter before I burden myself with regrets to no purpose. The world provides sufficient of those without any need for me to invent my own.”
For all the merits boldness possessed, it relied upon other qualities to direct the action it ceaselessly urged. While Dirant was exercising those to decide whether he ought to get Keiminops Bodan-Tin drunk in the hope of an indiscreet admission, hire Loigwin Nein-Cadops-Bain to break into the target's room and find relevant paperwork, or just beg, what might be done for Koshat Dreivis that day was done, and the beach began to fill. Drastlifars again conjured the sounds of tennis, drums, and general revelry, this time assisted by Dvanjchtlivs who, for all their ignorance of local customs, knew how to throw a rock.