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She meant it. Really! I stood with mouth open, stunned.

"All right!" I stamped out. I went to my quarters, shuffled those obstinate old papers and, of course, found not a damned thing new.

They left me alone for a while. Then Elmo came. He did not announce himself. I just glanced up and found him leaning against the door frame. By then I was half ashamed of my performance. "Yeah?"

"Mail call," he said, and tossed me another of those oilskin packets.

I snapped it out of the air. He departed without explaining its appearance. I placed it on my worktable, wondered. Who? I knew no one in Oar.

Was it some sort of trick?

The Lady is patient and clever. I would not put past her some grand maneuver using me.

I guess I must have thought about it an hour before, reluctantly, I opened the packet.

Chapter Fourteen: THE STORY OF BOMANZ

Croaker:

Bomanz and Tokar stood in one corner of the shop. "What do you think?" Bomanz asked. "Bring a good price?"

Tokar stared at the piece de resistance of Bomanz's new TelleKurre collection, a skeleton in perfectly restored armor. "It's marvelous, Bo. How did you do it?"

"Wired the joints together. See the forehead jewel? I'm not up on Domination heraldry, but wouldn't a ruby mean somebody important?"

"A king. That would be the skull of King Broke."

"His bones, too. And armor."

"You're rich, Bo. I'll just take a commission on this one. A wedding present to the family. You took me serious when I said come up with something good."

"The Monitor confiscated the best. We had Shapeshifter's armor."

Tokar had brought helpers this trip, a pair of hulking gorilla teamsters. They were carrying antiques to wagons outside. Their back-and-forth made Bomanz nervous.

"Really? Damn! I'd give my left arm for that."

Bomanz spread his hands apologetically. "What could I do? Besand keeps me on a short leash. Anyway, you know my policy. I'm stretching it to deal with a future daughter-in-law's brother."

"How's that?"

Stuck my foot in it now, Bomanz thought. He ploughed ahead. "Besand has heard you're a Resurrectionist. Stance and I are getting a hard time."

"Now that's sick. I'm sorry, Bo. Resurrectionist! I shot my mouth off once, years ago, and said even the Dominator would be better for Oar than our clown Mayor. One stupid remark! They never let you forget. It's not enough that they hounded my father into an early grave. Now they have to torment me and my friends."

Bomanz had no idea what Tokar was talking about. He would have to ask Stance. But it reassured him; which was all he really wanted.

"Tokar, keep the profits from this lot. For Stance and Glory. As my wedding present. Have they set a date?"

"Nothing definite. After his sabbatical and thesis. Come winter, I guess. Thinking about coming down?"

"Thinking about moving back to Oar. I don't have enough fight left to break in a new Monitor."

Tokar chuckled. "Probably won't be much call for Domination artifacts after this summer anyway. I'll see if I can find you a place. You do work like the king here, you won't have trouble making a living."

"You really like it? I was thinking about doing his horse, too." Bomanz felt a surge of pride in his craftsmanship.

"Horse? Really? They buried his horse with him?"

"Armor and all. I don't know who put the TelleKurre in the ground, but they didn't loot. We've got a whole box of coins and jewelry and badges."

"Domination coinage? That's hotter than hot. Most of it was melted down. A Domination coin in good shape can bring fifty times its metal value."

"Leave King Whosis here. I'll put his horse together for him. Pick him up next trip."

"I won't be long, either. I'll unload and zip right back. Where's Stance, anyway? I wanted to say hello." Tokar waved one of those leather wallets.

"Glory?"

"Glory. She ought to write romances. Going to break me, buying paper."

"He's out to the dig. Let's go. Jasmine! I'm taking Tokar out to the dig."

During the walk Bomanz kept glancing over his shoulder. The comet was now so bright it could be seen, barely, by day. "Going to be one hell of a sight when it peaks out," he predicted.

"I expect so." Tokar's smile made Bomanz nervous. I'm imagining, he told himself.

Stancil used his back to open the shop door. He dumped a load of weapons. "We're getting mined out, Pop. Pretty much all common junk last night."

Bomanz twisted a strand of copper wire, wriggled out of the framework supporting the horse skeleton. "Then let Men fu take over. Not much more room here anyway."

The shop was almost impassable. Bomanz would not have to dig for years, were that his inclination.

"Looking good," Stance said of the horse, tarrying before going for another armful from a borrowed cart. "You'll have to show me how to get the king on top so I can put them together when I go back."

"I may do it myself."

"Thought you'd decided to stay."

"Maybe. I don't know. When are we going to start that thesis?"

"I'm working on it. Making notes. Once I get organized I can write it up like that." He snapped his fingers. "Don't worry. I've got plenty of time." He went outside again.

Jasmine brought tea. "I thought I heard Stance."

Bomanz jerked his head. "Outside."

She looked for a place to set teapot and cups. "You're going to have to get this mess organized."

"I keep telling myself that."

Stancil returned. "Enough odds and ends here to make a suit of armor. Long as nobody tries to wear it."

"Tea?" his mother asked.

"Sure. Pop, I came past headquarters. That new Monitor is here."

"Already?"

"You're going to love him. He brought a coach and three wagons filled with clothing for his mistress. And a platoon of servants."

"What? Ha! He'll die when Besand shows him his quarters." The Monitor lived in a cell more fit for a monk than for the most powerful man in the province.

"He deserves it."

"You know him?"

"By reputation. Polite people call him the Jackal. If I'd known it was him… What could I have done? Nothing. He's lucky his family got him sent here. Somebody would have killed him if he'd stayed around the city."

"Not popular, eh?"

"You'll find out if you stay. Come back, Pop."

"I've got a job to do, Stance."

"How much longer?"

"A couple of days. Or forever. You know. I've got to get that name."

"Pop, we could try now. While things are confused."

"No experiments, Stance. I want it cold. I won't take chances with the Ten."

Stancil wanted to argue but sipped tea instead. He went out to the cart again. When he returned, he said, "Tokar should be turned around by now. Maybe he'll bring more than two wagons."

Bomanz chuckled. "Maybe he'll bring more than wagons, you mean? Like maybe a sister?"

"I was thinking that, yes."

"How are you going to get a thesis written?"

"There's always a spare moment."

Bomanz ran a dust cloth over the jewel in the brow of his dead king's horse. "Enough for now, Dobbin. Going out to the dig."

"Swing by and check the excitement," Stancil suggested.

"I wouldn't miss it."

Besand came to the dig that afternoon. He caught Bomanz napping. "What is this?" he demanded. "Sleeping on the job?"

Bomanz sat up. "You know me. Just getting out of the house. I hear the new man showed up.'

Besand spat. "Don't mention him."

"Bad?"

"Worse than I expected. Mark me, Bo. Today writes the end of an era. Those fools will rue it."

"You decide what you're going to do?"

"Go fishing. Bloody go fishing. As far from here as I can get. Take a day to break him in, then head south."