The Stranger - Max Frei [13]
“I asked Shuvish to stay in the corridor. He’s still too young to see the likes of that,” Maddi said, hesitating, as though he might have overstepped his bounds.
“You didn’t hear any noise?”
“The bedchamber was soundproofed, Sir Olli ordered that it be made so. What I mean is, even if you were screaming fit to burst, no one would hear. Nor would you hear any noise, naturally.”
“Fine. That all makes sense. But what was this fight you had with Sir Olli? They say he really let you have it.”
“No fight, Sir Venerable Head. A sick man doesn’t want to die; he’s unhappy about everything. He always explained to me how he wanted the water for his bath. But then the next day he wanted the water to be another way altogether. Every time I went and did as he ordered, but one day Sir Olli got mad and threw the washbowl at me. And you should’ve seen the man throw! He never should have died,” Maddi let out a low whistle of admiration.
I was sure that if he had been a basketball coach, he would have tried to recruit Sir Olli onto his team without a second thought.
“The bowl hit me straight in the face, the edge gouging my eyebrow. It started to bleed, and like an imbecile, I tried to turn away, and crashed into the mirror with all my might. Luckily, it was a sturdy thing. Old craftsmanship! I was soaking wet, my face covered in blood, the mirror all bloodied up, too. Sir Olli panicked, he thought he had killed me. Raised quite a commotion. And when I washed my face, it turned out that it was nothing at all—a scratch half a finger’s length long. It didn’t even leave a scar! It never entered my head to complain—you can’t let yourself get insulted by an old man. He didn’t even have the Spark anymore; he was all but dead already—and I’m still strong and kicking. I can grin and bear it.”
“Fine, fine, my friend. That’s all we needed to know. Don’t worry—you did just what you were supposed to do.”
Maddi was dismissed, and went off to contemplate his dreams—and simple and innocent dreams they were, of that I’m certain. Sir Juffin glanced at Govins questioningly.
“The crones have been sent for. I hope they’ll all be found. They have the same sort of nomadic profession that you have. For the time being, I may be able to assist you myself, since the death of Nattis, that unfortunate young man, took place right under my nose.”
“That’s news to me! How did you manage that?”
“Such was the order of things. The boy was my ward. You see, Nattis wasn’t a servant in the house. An ordinary servant, that is. Two years ago he came to Echo from Gazhin. He arrived with a note from his grandfather, one of my oldest friends. The old man wrote that his grandson was an orphan, and was still wet behind the ears. The kind of knowledge he could pick up in Gazhin wasn’t much use here in Echo. But the boy was quick-witted—that was plain as day. My friend asked me to help his grandson in any way I could. Sir Makluk promised to give him the highest recommendation. He even intended to set him up with someone at the Court. You understand, it’s a real privilege to be offered a place at Court! But in the interim, I taught him to the best of my abilities. Believe me, I had just as much reason to praise him when he was still alive. Occasionally we gave him a Day of Freedom from Some Chores. On those days he wasn’t free to go off on his own, as he was on ordinary Days of Freedom, but stayed home. He was relieved of his duties, however, and was expected to live the life of a gentleman.”
At this point, I couldn’t repress a sigh of sympathy. Poor guy!
Govins interpreted my sigh in his own way, shook his head sadly, and continued: “What I mean is that if you wish to go far in life, you need know not only how to work, but also how to give orders. On those days, Nattis got up in the morning, called for a servant, bathed and groomed himself, dressed like a gentleman, ate like a gentleman, read the newspaper. Then he would go for a walk on the Right Bank, and there he also did