remember, and it doesn’t matter anyway. So this wife was cold and unsocial, which made it difficult for her to serve guests. People were waiting for ages for their food and cursing the service. ‘Where’s my ragout?’”
“Where’s my fish!” Vordius joked.
“Exactly. ‘Where’s my fish!’ And his wife just ignored it all, carrying trays of food with this blank look on her face. That’s why her husband started calling her his sleepy fish. People started saying ‘Where are you going for dinner?’ ‘To the sleepy fish.’ That’s how the place got its name.”
“I thought that Mustobrim women were hot and spicy,” said Vordius, casting a glance at his girlfriend.
“How do you know so much about Mustobrim women?” Luvia asked him in a quiet, serious voice.”
“Oh, that’s a common misperception by people who have only heard rumors of the fair ladies of Mustobrim,” said Sorgius, stepping in to keep his friend from teasing Luvia too much. “Southerners’ blood is hotter than ours, but you can’t imagine what their religion does to them!”
“I see you can imagine it,” smiled Uni. He felt strange in his new robe, but his mother had insisted on buying it. His objections that he already had a new robe that he had purchased for the trip to Virilan were struck down because, as his mother reminded him, he might stain it at his party and then he would have nothing clean to wear.
“Maybe I haven’t read as many books as you, Little Uni, but I have personal experience that tells me there’s nothing worse than trying to restrain our natural instincts with fasts, vigils, prayers, mortification of the flesh and other unnatural obstacles. Strict rules don’t do anything but make a person angry. And when they see how everyone else lives, all they can think about is how to ruin their lives for them.”
Uni looked skeptical. “How many Mustobrims have you met in your young life?”
“Enough. Believe me!”
“I know they believe in an invisible god,” Uni smiled. “Their god has no face, but they believe he can be found in everything. Not just people, but in their actions.”
“Sounds like a hard life,” sighed Sorgius’ red-headed companion. “If we feel like sinning, all we have to do is hide from the eye of the Heavenly Deity and it’s like the sin never happened. Are you saying that in Mustobrim they can’t hide anywhere? How do they manage like that? If it was me…”
It’s a good thing we didn’t get together at the Trout, Uni thought to himself as he stole a glance at the girl’s pretty face. Mother wouldn’t put up with this for long.
“I know how they live,” Dag Vandey broke in. “One man and one woman stay together their entire lives.”
“That sounds terrible!” the red-head exclaimed. She looked at Luvia for support, but the younger woman frowned and leaned closer to her fiancé.
“Friends, let us raise another toast to Vordius and Luvia!” Sorgius felt obliged to iron out the uncomfortable situation that he had caused. The happy couple seemed to bloom at his words. There was a wide grin on Vordius’ kind face, he straightened his shoulders and shook his dark curls. Luvia was glowing from within as if a spark of joy was burning its way through the charming modesty that was so unusual in those permissive times.
“Dear friends!” Sorgius said as he rose from his seat, accidentally elbowing the noble sitting behind him in the back. The back shrugged and turned in annoyance, but it was ignored completely. “My dears!” Sorgius was having trouble finding the words he needed. “All of you know me to be an idle good-for nothing and a highly irresponsible person,” he continued, winking as if letting them in on a joke.
Vordius, seated next to him, raised a fist and tapped his chin to indicate just how much his friend had had to drink. Uni snickered.
“And yet,” Sorgius went on, finding his rhythm, “you have been my only true friends, ever since we met seventeen years ago. You are the only friends who don’t want anything from me. You’ve put up with my antics, and I have to admit that I haven’t always measured up to your kindness. And now, when you, Vordius, are just about to start a new phase in your life, I want to wish you and Luvia the one thing that life isn’t worth living without. I wish you happiness. Just happiness. Everything else will work itself out. I love both of you! Let me kiss you!” Sorgius leaned over the table, dipping his robe in the octopus dish in front of him, but Vordius’ powerful arms lifted him from the sea monster’s hold and wrapped him in a warm embrace.
Wine flowed like a river, and it had the important job of preparing the guests’ stomachs for the final attack by the forces gathering in the chef’s kingdom beyond the curtain. But the Fish had a commendable wine cellar, second only to the cellar at the Dwarf’s Cave, which had no real menu, just drinks. Aromatic Elisian wine, with a floral bouquet that exploded in the nose and carried the connoisseur to an exalted state of beatitude, was followed by sweet Firanian wine, which was delicious enough to drink by the pitcher but threatened an awful headache in the morning. Next came tannic Artishan wine, refreshing on a hot day, followed by Bouquet of Vuravia, a twenty-year reserve that was too tart to drink by the glass but charming when taken a drop at a time on the tongue. The wine was accompanied by toasts, of course, and Uni soon commanded the attention of his friends, who had been occupied until then by expressing their well-wishes for the happy couple.
“To the rising star of imperial diplomacy!” Sorgius thrust his cup energetically at Uni, who was saved from a collision by all the other cups that rose to meet it.
“Thank you, friends,” said the modest archivist, who had been starting to think he was forgotten. Now, sitting in the spotlight made him shy.
Vordius slapped him on the back with a loving grin. “I never thought you’d escape your dusty basement, but here you are!” He looked around the table. “Our Uni, he didn’t just get out, he flew out like a hawk. They’ll never stop him now!”
“Virilan. Not bad at all,” spoke up the serious Vandey. “Do you have a strong protector at court?”
“I know exactly who his protector is,” drawled Sorgius, grimacing at the distorted reflection in his glass of wine. “I heard that Manelius Ronko went to great lengths to get his favorite archivist put on the delegation. Although, with a country like Virilan, it’s hard to know whether or not he did you a favor,” and he winked at his friend.
Uni was terribly uncomfortable. “That’s enough. I want to make one thing clear: I had no idea he would get me put on the delegation. But in truth, I suppose he had no choice.”
“How’s that?” laughed Sorgius.
It’s obvious. Virilan is the most isolated country in the world. Except, perhaps, for the Land of Wizards, but the Mustobrims travel there all the time, so Virilan truly is the most isolated place. And Virilans are exceedingly wary of outsiders. They don’t believe we are actually human, and they avoid us at all costs. As a result, I’m one of the only two currently living persons in the Empire who knows how to speak Virilan, at least to an extent.”
“Bravo! Bravo!” Sorgius clapped his hands. “Let’s drink to Uni and his studious nature, the very same studious nature that has finally landed him in the great big world!”
“Idiot! You didn’t hear a word I said.”
“I am all ears.” Sorgius hiccupped. “There’s more, isn’t there?”
“There is. I barely know Manelius Ronko. He often visits the archive, and I’ve helped him find information on various topics. He’s an interesting man and a good conversationalist. But I never asked for his help, and the place on the delegation was a complete surprise. But it’s logical when you think about it.”
Dag Vandey shook himself from his musing. “Ronko is exceedingly interesting. I still don’t know exactly what his post involves.”
Here, Luvia spoke up. “My father says Ronko is only interested in two