Legacy of the Darksword - Margaret Weis [22]
He went to the kitchen. I brewed tea and brought him buttered toast. He stared hopelessly at the toast, but he drank his tea.
“Sit down, Reuven,” he said in his quiet, gentle manner. “I have made a decision.”
I sat down, hoping to persuade him to eat. At that moment the doorbell rang, and at the same time there was a knock on the back door. I gave my master a helpless glance, and with a wry smile and a shrug, he went to answer the front door while I took care of the back.
The army of policemen, having secured the street, now moved into our house. A woman in a business suit, who said she was head of Earth Force security, took charge of Saryon and me, telling us that her people would be searching and securing the premises. She marched us back into the kitchen, sat us down, and laid out The Plan. A team of cool-eyed, professional, and thorough people moved in behind her, bringing with them cool-eyed, professional dogs.
I could soon hear them upstairs, down in the cellar, and in every room in the house. Whether or not they found any more green-glowing devices I do not know. I assume they did, they found everything else, including a half-eaten biscuit from beneath a couch cushion, which one of the men politely handed over to me. I offered it to his dog, who was, however, far too professional to accept such treats while on the job.
Seeing that Saryon’s thoughts were turned inward and that he was not paying the slightest bit of attention to The Plan, I devoted myself to listening and understanding what it was we were to do. All the while I wondered what decision he had made.
“His Majesty King Garald and General Boris and their aides and entourage will arrive in the same vehicle at precisely thirteen hundred hours. The Right Honorable Kevon Smythe and his aides and entourage will travel in a second vehicle and will arrive at precisely thirteen-thirty. They will all depart at fourteen hundred.”
Pardon me, ma’am. I started to write my words on a tablet, which I usually kept with me, but she indicated that she understood sign language, for which I was grateful. “How many aides and entourage will there be?”
I was thinking of our small living room and wondering where on earth we would put them all. Also if we would be expected to serve tea. If so, I was going to have to make a run to the store!
She reassured me. We were not to worry about a thing. She and her staff would handle all the arrangements. I could tell, by the sounds of furniture scraping over the floor, that the living room was being adjusted.
At this point Saryon, with a blink and a sigh, rose from the table, and with a slight bow and a vague smile for the woman— I’m convinced he had no idea who she was or why she was there—he left, saying something to the effect that he would be in his study and to call him when it was time.
The woman frowned, displeased. “He appears completely insensible to the fact that he is being paid a great honor. For such eminent and important figures to completely rearrange their schedules, and travel—some of them—halfway around the world, all to honor this gentleman on his birthday! . . . Well! It seems to me that he should be exhibiting far more gratitude.”
His birthday! I had forgotten, in all the turmoil, that this date corresponded approximately to the date he had been born in Thimhallan. I was the one who had figured it all out (Saryon would have never bothered) and I had, in fact, planned a small celebration for us that evening. His gift, a new chessboard, with figures formed of dragons and griffins and other supposedly mythic animals, was neatly wrapped upstairs in my room. I wondered how anyone else knew it was his birthday, for we had shared this with no one. Then I remembered the green-glowing eavesdropping devices.
So this was to be the excuse—visiting