I noticed that he still surrounded himself with the same cronies he'd had years ago. And still projected the same air of immense competence. And still bore the scars of the wounds that had gotten him pulled out just before the big Venageti hammer came down on those of us who stayed behind.
I studied him while I had the chance and soon decided that he probably didn't signify in anything that was going on with me. He was just somebody who happened to be around, an actor who walked across the stage.
I amused myself sorting books and snatching peeks at anything that sounded intriguing until, after a much longer delay than I expected, Mr. Nagit showed up with a selection of personal weaponry and a change of clothing I didn't find quite suitable. "A uniform?" I complained.
"It's all that's available." That amused Nagit. No doubt he'd conspired to contrive a shortage of more normal apparel.
"Don't get the idea that because I'm wearing the suit I'm one of the troops. Next time I enlist I plan to start my career as a general."
"And work your way to the bottom, I suppose. Listen, Garrett. The Call wouldn't take you in if you did want to join. You're one big old tangle of unanswered questions and nobody wants to bother digging."
And just a few days ago everybody in the rights racket wanted to sign me on, for the full nightmare. When I still had a nonhuman partner and friends of questionable ethnic purity. I must've stopped being the ideal recruit while I was looking the other way.
Maybe Black Dragon Valsung still wanted me. Or Brotherhood Of The Wolf. We could let bygones be bygones. Couldn't we?
As I dressed I chewed on the sour certainty that my position had been marginalized all along, by everyone. They'd all wanted me to poke hornets' nests somewhere else but hadn't wanted me getting intimate with their own schemes. I was a ball bouncing randomly off any number of walls. No more than what Morley would call a finagle or a confusion factor. A bee annoying everybody.
"Not a bad fit," I said, checking over each shoulder. "The styling is a little too army but I do look almost dashing."
"The ladies will swoon." Mr. Nagit fought a smile.
I asked, "You ever see Glory Mooncalled?"
"What?" I'd startled him with the sudden shift. "No, I don't know anybody who has. Why?"
"I just wondered. I used to have a partner. He practically worshipped Glory Mooncalled. Because of his irreverent attitude." Though I couldn't imagine how someone could be more establishmentarian than a Loghyr gone sedentary. For folks like that revolution or change were not Good Things.
"Used to be a lot of that going around. You don't hear much of it anymore. Suppose we get this circus rolling? The sooner we handle it the sooner I come back home."
"I'm ready." I looked myself over again. I wasn't pleased. I looked like one of the boys. I hoped that didn't confuse me or anyone else.
Tama Montezuma was in the hallway talking to somebody when we left the library. The guy scowled at us. Mr. Nagit glared back. I paid the man no mind because Tama turned on the heat and made herself the focus of my existence. "Garrett? Look at you. Why'd they ever let you out of uniform?" The guy she was with sidled off past Mr. Nagit, plainly unhappy that anyone else was getting Miss Montezuma's attention. Men are that way. We can't help it.
Tama's eyes seemed twice as big as normal. What a case! Every woman I ran into seemed determined to fry my brain.
Mr. Nagit said, "Garrett."
"Uh. Yeah." He was Marengo's right hand. "Sorry, Miss Montezuma. Got to run. Work to do."
She smiled a smile both promising and predatory, moved on down the hall.
I just couldn't imagine where Tinnie got the idea that Tama was bony. "Whew!" I said.
Mr. Nagit agreed. "Yeah. What was that all about?"
When Tinnie was with me he'd seemed a normal, red-blooded Karentine sort of guy. "What?"
"That woman doesn't take a deep breath unless it has something to do with her meal ticket. And she just took you over the jumps."
"My ego can't handle it."
"Huh?"
"She wants to throw the boss over for me."
"Exactly. I thought she seemed extremely nervous."
Were we speaking the same language?
When we stepped out of the house I checked to see what the clouds were doing. My earlier expectations wouldn't be disappointed. Rain was coming. A real disappointment stood closer to hand. The horse I'd chosen now looked terribly ferocious for a swaybacked mare almost my own age. And then there were the dozen guys in freecorps outfits all looking like they were headed for the parade ground. I did a quick, paranoid scan of armbands, making sure noboby was dumb enough to wear his Brotherhood Of The Wolf allegiance on his sleeve.
"Is this necessary?"
"Somebody has to run messages. And those unfriendly centaurs are still out there."
Unfriendly to you, fellow.
I felt vulnerable despite having acquired a cutlery sampler.
Something slammed down on my shoulder. For an instant I thought an ogre had jumped me from behind, but when I turned my head I found myself beak to beak with the Goddamn Parrot. "Damn! I thought I lost you for good." I told Mr. Nagit, "You know, these things live a really long time. Someday you're going to want to have a family. Think how much fun your kids could have with their own talking bird."
"I wouldn't deprive your own future scions of the opportunity to enjoy such a wonderful experience." He laughed.
Him and his pals found my plight entertaining. Not one of them wanted his own talking shoulder ornament, no matter how dashing the look. I gathered my dignity and mounted up, getting it right way forward first try. I mouthed the notes of the trumpet call for charge and off we rode. A three-legged centaur would've had no trouble running me down.
97
Gilbey didn't like my idea even a little. "We don't want any more trouble here, Max."
The Old Man turned the letter Mr. Nagit had given him, as though Marengo might have scribbled a secret postscript on its blank side. He saw only what I saw, which was the North English seal. "We'll do it, Manvil." He turned the letter again. Whatever North English's message, it made a difference; but it left his old friend Max puzzled. North English's word obviously was gold to Weider. "Clear the great hall again." Wan smile. "Let this young gentleman's friends help." That was a subtle dismissal of Nagit and Gilbey both.
"Will this work, Garrett?"
"I don't know. My record hasn't been outstanding lately."
"No. It hasn't. On the other hand, most of our troubles could've been avoided if we'd listened to you in the first place. I understand that you're handicapped by the head start I allowed evil. But who could believe that such things might happen?" The latter he directed toward himself.
"North English will send in freecorps people he trusts. I assume you trust him. But, even so, I intend to bring in friends of my own."
"Whatever you think of the man, Garrett, he's my friend."
I confessed, "I do see him through different eyes. I'll also bring in some Guards people that Colonel Block trusts. Everybody can watch everybody. It'll be like party night at the pickpockets' hall."
Wan smile. "You missed the funerals."
"You had them already?" Of course he had. It was summertime.
"This morning. Early."
"I'm sorry. Nobody told me. I would've been there."
"No matter. You were doing the work of the Lord. I hope."