The Stranger - Max Frei [88]
At dawn, everything stopped, and I tumbled into sleep. During the night, however, I had a bright idea—though putting it into practice could wait until dinner. (Putting things off until later is a hobby of mine. From morning to evening all I do is put things off.)
I woke up from the rumble of the cell door. My food was brought in to me. Tasting the cheese soup, I started seriously contemplating what kind of crime against the state I should commit. Being held captive for twenty years in these conditions—not a single Royal Honor could compete with “punishment” like this!
When I had finished my soup, I asked to go for a “walk” to Mr. Commander’s office. The time had come to consult Juffin. That night I had realized that the part of the story of Cell No. 5-Ow-Nox I knew about only went back to the first of the seven deaths. Since then three years had passed. What had happened there before? Who had been kept in the cell? That was what I meant to find out. In Echo you have to be on top of things like that. I wouldn’t have been at all surprised to find out that a few thousand years ago, some shady Grand Magician or other had been held here, and that today’s misfortunes were a logical consequence of that.
I didn’t doubt that Sir Juffin knew every detail of the history of this little place. But in sending me to Xolomi he kept as quiet as a fish—either out of perversity, or because he was just waiting for me to ask the right questions. (In the interests of professional training, of course!)
But look at me! Instead of pedantically collecting information, I wasted time and energy on gathering personal amorous experience. It’s my own fault! I concluded, and settled myself more comfortably in the commander’s chair. After beating myself up like this for a while, I sent a call to Juffin.
Now tell me how it all started, I demanded. What happened here before the 114th day of the 112th year? One of your mutinous Grand Magicians was held in the cell, I’m guessing?
Very good, Max! Juffin was ecstatic about my knack for putting two and two together.
I have no idea why you’re praising me, I grumbled. Well, yes, I asked the question that I should have started with only today, and not a year later. For an idiot like me, that’s probably an achievement.
I have any number of acquaintances who would have needed not one, but two hundred years, if they needed a day. You’re angry at me; but you’re even angrier at yourself. But I meant it when I said “very good.”
I don’t recognize you, Juffin. Such compliments! You must miss me or something.
I had already forgiven him, of course. I was as happy as a pig in a puddle. Praising me is definitely the right strategy. Someone who praises me in good conscience can twist me around any number of little fingers.
In any case, I received an exhaustive answer to my question, and a half hour later I was home. In Cell No. 5-Ow-Nox, that is. I sat sprawled out in a soft arrestee’s chair. I was trying to digest the information I had received. Naturally, you couldn’t get around the requisite crazy Magician—that was as clear as day. Maxlilgl Annox, Grand Magician of the Order of the Sepulchral Dog, and one of the fiercest opponents of the reform, served a prison term in Xolomi during the height of the Troubled Times. According to Juffin, the combined efforts of a dozen of the best practitioners of the Order of the Seven-Leaf Clover were needed to imprison his person, remarkable in all respects. At the same time, even the Grand Magicians of other Orders, who had long ago lost any capacity for fear, trembled before him.
He wasn’t such a madman, though, this head of the Order of the Sepulchral Dog. Of course, he had traveled a strange and winding road. But if you believed the historical chronicles, which I devoured by the dozens in my spare time, you’d discover that few of the Grand Magicians were guilty of banality and lack of imagination