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Nineteen

Stilfos had finished his morning work and settled on a chair in the garden with a cup of satta dosed with sweet wine, to browse the book Brokols had been reading the evening before. He read not with any particular intention of learning from it, but as a diversion, and was probably learning as much from it as Brokols had, when he heard the knocker clack on the entrance door. Frowning, he put the book down and went inside to answer.

Tirros and Karrlis were waiting.

"Yes?" he said. He didn't like either of them, didn't trust them. Nor did it help that he came only to Tirros's throat and to Karrlis's chin; at home his height was average or a bit more.

"We'd like to come in and talk with you, if you please," Tirros replied. "It's about the ambassador."

"We can talk where we are," Stilfos answered. His tone carried suspicion and disapproval. "I'm to let no one in without permission."

Tirros shrugged. "Have you heard of the Trumpet of Hrum?" he asked.

"The man who speaks against Almeon? I've been myself to hear him. What about it?"

"Some of us here in Hrumma think it would be a good idea if your emperor did rule here. Last night the two of us offered to do what we could to help; help your emperor take over here, that is. But speaking frankly, we have doubts that your Lord Brokols is morally fit to serve as your emperor's representative. We thought you'd want to hear about it."

Stilfos's impulse was to order them away. Instead he found himself saying, "It had better be good, or I'm closing this door in your face."

Tirros nodded soberly. "Your ambassador, frankly speaking, is a libertine and sex pervert. He's . . ."

"I don't believe it! Be on your way now, both of you!"

Stilfos moved to shut the door, but Tirros's foot blocked it. "Mr. Stilfos," Tirros said earnestly, "I beg you hear me out. This is too important to leave unsaid."

Stilfos stopped, unsure.

"It may be," Tirros went on, "that his moral depravity does not affect his mental function, his judgement. All I ask is that you watch him, observe, and judge for yourself. Then decide what, if anything, you should do about it. We'd like to see your emperor succeed, if possible, and do what we can to help."

Stilfos still stood, not knowing what to say.

"How do you suppose the Trumpet of Hrum learned of your emperor's plans?" Tirros went on. "And about the fleet. The 200 ships."

Stilfos looked stricken. He remembered his concern at his master's drinking, and the trouble it might cause. "You gentlemen really have to go now," he said. "I've work to do."

This time Karrlis spoke. "Just one thing more, and we'll leave."

Stilfos waited.

"Have you ever seen the ambassador sick with a terrible headache after being out all night?"

"What if I have?"

"It's from a drug he took. To enable him to, uh, couple with different women all night long. And engage in acts other than coupling. A close acquaintance of mine was there and witnessed part of it; he's a servant of the house where it happened." Karrlis shuddered; Tirros looked on, impressed with him. "The things he did!" Karrlis added. "And in front of other people!"

Tirros interrupted. "Enough," he said. "It's not right to burden this man with all that ugliness." He looked at Stilfos. "Unfortunately, these things are true. But I can understand how hard it might be for you to hear them. We'll leave now, but I'll get in touch with you again in a few days. In case you decide we can help."

They backed away then, turned and disappeared down the stairs. After a moment, Stilfos closed the door and went to the kitchen to wash pots, forgetting all about the book laying on the garden table. Fortunately it didn't rain.

Tirros and Karrlis laughed and giggled most of the way to the satta shop.

* * *

The next day at almost the same time, Lerrlia knocked. Stilfos was stunned by her appearance. She wore a light and clinging frock that didn't reach her knees, and she seemed to him lovely beyond belief.

"Is the ambassador at home?" she asked.

"Ah, no ma'am—miss—he's not."

"When do you expect him?"

"I'm not sure. Late afternoon most likely."

She frowned prettily. "Perhaps I'll come back then. I've been invited to a, um—very special party this evening, and I hoped he'd take me. He enjoyed the last one so much, and I've never known anyone who could, ah, party all night the way he did." She shivered. "He's marvelous!"

Stilfos simply stared.

She shrugged. "Oh well. I suppose he's very busy, or perhaps he's spending his free time with one of the other girls he met there. I shouldn't be pursuing him, but . . ."

She turned and left. It was half a minute before Stilfos closed the door and went back to his kitchen. He tried to finish cleaning the stove, the project he'd set for his morning, but it was no use. After a few minutes he went to the wireless room and radioed Kryger.

No one answered the signal at the other end though—no one seemed to be there—and Stilfos gave up on it for the time being.

Maybe, he told himself, none of it was true. Maybe they were lying, even the beautiful young woman. Although it was hard to imagine anyone so lovely being a liar.

Perhaps, he thought, he should wait a few days before telling Lord Kryger what he'd heard. Wait and see how Lord Brokols seemed. The truth was, he liked Lord Brokols much better than he did Lord Kryger. And as for the two young Hrummean gentlemen, there was something about them that seemed positively evil.

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Framed