“What!?” Franck asked,
incredulous, which was not a state of being he was really used to, “Ellis
joined the circus?”
“That’s
what the sign says,” Gulliver replied, “Ellis, the boy from the other world!”
“But,
but, but,” Franck began, “but that’s just stupid! Why would the boy join a circus?
And in Searingsands of all places?
Doesn’t he understand how dangerous it is? Doesn’t he realise how stupid he’s being?” He took a deep breath. “I mean, I know when he first came here he
was dressed a bit like a clown, but…”
“Maybe
Siren leavin’ us was just too much for ‘im?”
Gulliver suggested.
“Perhaps,
but I can’t ever recall him saying he had any interest in the circus. I remember when my cousin Regina said she
was going to join, she wouldn’t stop talking about it for weeks and weeks and
every time we went to see her she would be performing some circus trick or
other, like juggling the best china, or feeding the servants to the
loglizards. She was so excited. I imagine that she would still be performing
if she hadn’t had that tragic accident with the broken trapeze and the sword
eater. Ah, I still miss her.” He dabbed at one eye with a
handkerchief. “No, I just don’t think
Ellis has it in him to join the circus of his own volition. Something else is going on here. We must investigate this at once!”
“And
‘ow do we do that?”
“Why,
my dear Gulliver, we’re going to see the performance, of course!” and with that
he made his way towards the ticket booths which had been set up on the other
side of the circus pavilion.
As
usual Gulliver was left standing on his own for a moment.
“Of
course we are,” he said gloomily to the air, “Of course.”
The
sun was starting to dip behind the hills of Searingsands, sending the city into
a warm, amber-jade gloom, as the Former Baron and Gulliver made their way to
the end of the queue for tickets. It
stretched for quite some distance, winding its way between the stalls of
various quick-thinking street sellers who had seen the opportunity for a
captive audience as they called out their wares.
“Hookah
pipes from the South wards,” one called out as Franck and Gulliver passed by,
“carpets from Oasis, lamps from Rockshade!”
“What
did I tell you, Gulliver,” the Former Baron said dismissively, “it’s always
about the carpets and the lamps. No,
don’t make eye contact!”
But
it was too late, Gulliver had attracted the attention of the seller and was
even now trying to back away, his arms held out in front of him as if fending
off an attack. The Former Baron shook
his head, waited just a moment longer, then stepped forwards.
“Listen
my good man,” he said, directing the fullness of his sometimes unsettling gaze
on the seller, “we do not want your bric-a-brac, your tat, your odds and ends
or your junk. Indeed, we do not want it
anymore than any of the other people you have pestered over the many years I
assume you have been loitering at the edges of crowds, eking out your paltry
little business,” his tone made it very clear that this was a serious
matter. The seller had stopped in his
tracks and was staring at him with some confusion, “but much more than this,
you do not want us as customers.”
The
seller smiled at this and took another step forward, clearly about to explain
exactly why they would be the perfect customers and they would not regret any
purchase made at this particular branch of ‘Lamps etc.’, but the Former Baron
stopped him again with a glance, took a deep breath and then continued his
tirade.
“No,”
he said sternly, “you do not want us as customers at all. Oh sure, to begin with it would be a
beautiful thing. We would give you lots
of money and you would be relieved of another useless piece of spirit-possessed
brassware and for a while all would be well.
You would dine on the choicest slices of quince and would drown yourself
in the wine of self satisfaction, as you draped yourself lazily over the couch
of greed, but then, say, a month or two later, you would learn to regret your
choices. You would rue the day you ever
pulled the cloth off your table of motley wares.
“You
see, once I took my piece of pointless ephemera home I would begin to be
dissatisfied, then I would become annoyed, then I would become angry. I would return to you within seven weeks and
I would complain. I would demand
consumer rights. I would point to the
terms of the warranty and quibble over every last detail. I would quote acts of government you have
never even dreamed of and you would never know if I was ever telling the truth
or talking out the spout of my useless djinn-house of a lamp.
“And
you, you my dear seller, would be cowering, much like you are doing
right now, folding up into a corner and wishing you had someone higher than
yourself you could call on to get rid of me, but you don’t, it’s just you and
your paltry little store, bothering people whilst they wait in a perfectly
legitimate queue for something else!”
The
queue moved a few steps further forward, Franck tipped his top hat at the
seller, said, “Good day to you, sir!” and then he and Gulliver moved on,
leaving the seller staring, mouth gaping, at the spot where he had been. The other sellers now eyed Franck warily and
stepped back as his section of the queue approached and thus something
resembling blissful peace was achieved for the rest of their wait.
When they
finally reached the ticket booth Franck bought two of the most expensive
tickets left in the hope that they might put them somewhere near the Kahn, then
he led Gulliver into the massive pavilion and began the long, arduous and
tedious to describe search that was required before they could get to their
seats.
Once they had
found them, some fifteen minutes later, they settled down and Franck began
scanning the faces around them, trying to work out where they were sitting in
Searingsands' noble hierarchy at that precise moment, ignoring Gulliver's gloomy
staring at the empty sawdust ring.
After a few moments he cried out, nudging Gulliver with his bony elbow
and pointing several seats behind them and to the right, where a tall, thin,
leathery-skinned man dressed almost entirely in cloth of gold and wearing a
ridiculous hat (also gold) sat, staring impassively at the empty ring whilst a
lady to his right chattered in his ear.
"That's
the Kahn there!" he exclaimed, "We're only three baronets and a duke
away from sitting right beside him!"
"Sounds
like 'e might as well be sittin' on the moon, then," Gulliver replied,
morose as always. Franck made a mental
note to put something exciting in his tea the next time he made any.
"No, no,
no! You're not thinking right. All we have to do is trade seats for a while
during the performance, perhaps with a few bribes or offers of service, and
we'll be sitting right next to the man we need to speak to!"
"I
thought you didn't want to speak to 'im?"
"Well, if
circumstances were different... I confess I'd avoid him at all costs, but as
things are now..."
"And
don't we need to rescue Ellis? Can't
meetin' the Kahn wait?"
"No! Now is the most important time to speak to
him. We'll almost certainly need his
help to rescue Ellis and to solve Broken Hope's energy predicament. We need to reach him before the performance
starts. If we manage to sit through the
whole circus with him, building the necessary rapport, he'll be sure to grant
us a few minutes with him at the end and then we can make our requests, but
first we have to reach those seats!"
He pointed behind him again to the two seats to the Kahn's left,
currently filled by a large round gentleman wearing a turban and a very skinny
lady wearing very little.
“Well then,”
Gulliver replied, crossing his arms grumpily, “work away!”
“Thank you,
Gulliver,” Franck said, already turning to the person immediately behind him,
“your permission was exactly what I was aiming for in that little
discourse. Hello sir!”
The man
sitting immediately behind the Former Baron jumped a little at the greeting,
then regained his composure enough to assume a confused smile. “Yes?
Can I help you?” he managed.
“I was just
wondering if you might like to swap seats.
I couldn’t help but notice that you do not have a dear lady friend to accompany
you and this lady to my right is really quite beautiful. I’m sure she would be as delighted with the
pleasure of your company as you would be with hers.”
“Well I-” the
gentleman began, but Franck was already turning to the older lady sitting to his
left, just behind Gulliver.
“And you,
madam, surely you feel it is your civic duty to keep an eye on this young
couple to be, to help preserve modesty in this most delicate of introductions,
yes?”
“I don’t-”
“Excellent,
excellent! And here’s a little money
for your trouble, as I imagine your seats must have been quite expensive, I’m
sure.” He dropped a few coins into the
hands of each of them. “Now, if I can
just vault over here – Gulliver, are you coming?”
The lady and
gentleman stared in confusion and possibly horror as Franck made his way over
the back of his seat and practically into their laps, ushering an embarrassed
Gulliver to do the same and then, before they had time to protest he was
helping them back over to their seats, where they landed uncomfortable and
began to grumble amongst themselves.
“That was my
wife!” an indignant voice declared from the other side of Gulliver.
“All is well,
sir,” Franck replied, turning to the couple in the next set of seats, “I’ll
just get you another one!”
Within a few
minutes Franck and Gulliver had managed to work their way, somewhat
chaotically, up through the rows of chairs until only the round gentleman and
the skinny lady were sitting between them and the Kahn, who was still oblivious
to all that had been going on in his vicinity.
The lady to his right continued her incessant talk.
“Now,
Gulliver,” Franck said, “watch as the final stages of this beautiful game
unfold.”
“Beautiful
game?” Gulliver asked, but as Franck was already standing up, leaning over the
gentleman and the lady (much to their consternation) and tapping the Kahn on
the shoulder.
“Irfan! Irfan, my old friend, how good it is to see
you again! You know I never expected to
find you here of all places.”
The Kahn
flinched, as if waking from a deep sleep and then turned to face the Former
Baron. For moment he looked confused, then, for just a second, his eyes
flashed with anger, and then just a suddenly he was as friendly as could be.
“Why,
Franck! It really has been a very long
time, hasn’t it? What brings you here?”
“Oh, you know,
this and that, nothing much really.” He
glanced down at the round gentleman and his skinny lady friend and made a
dismissive gesture. They understood
immediately and within seconds he and Gulliver were sitting right next to the
Kahn. Gulliver still had his arms
crossed, although Franck couldn’t help but noticed the expression on his face –
just a little bit impressed despite everything.
“But clearly
the circus caught your attention?” the Kahn asked politely.
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