“Oh, but I did!” I screeched. “It was my greatest crime! Through the use of cunning potions I brought all his mahouts under my sway! Taught them to sodomize the great war elephants! And then! The elephants now corrupted! The immense creatures filled with unnatural passion! I had but to wave the King’s bedclothes under their snouts! The hideous sight! The herd of aroused pachyderms! Their tusks and trunks raised to the heavens! Their great bellows of lust! The palace trampled flat! The King fleeing for his life! But in vain! My greatest coup! There! The King! Racing across the Royal Grounds! There! The pachyderms in hot pursuit! And then! Oh! Oh! The—”
“Shut up!” roared the sergeant. “Just shut up!” I fell silent, grimacing in an effort to hide my smirk.
“Untie him,” grumbled the sergeant. “We’ll take him to Gerard.” Then, very gloomily: “There’s going to be hell to pay when the Chief Counselor hears about this.”
A minute later I was carried out of the building, a burly policeman hoisting me by each arm. I could have walked quite easily, though I wouldn’t have cared to dance a gavotte. But I saw no reason to enlighten the brutes as to the true condition of my hardened feet.
Another rough ride followed—the cobblestones of Goimr’s streets shared the general state of disrepair—and we debouched onto a large plaza bordering a sluggish river. This, I realized, must be the river Moyle, at whose mouth the city of Goimr is located. And there, on an island in the middle of the river, lay the Royal Palace—just as described in the travel brochures.
Ha! The actual palace bore the same relation to the one pictured on the travel brochures as the corpulent and toad-faced Madame Hexe bore to my grandfather Goya’s portrait of her, The Naked Madame.
“Isn’t there one building in this city that isn’t half-crumbling?” I asked.
“Silence!” roared the sergeant. Then, sourly: “It’s a poor country, we are. Not like your precious Ozarae.”
His own gloom was no deeper than my own. To Goimr had I come, my brain flushed with visions of making my fame and fortune—invited by the King himself. A Royal Artist already—and me not yet twenty-four years of age! But now, gazing at the Royal Hovel, I reflected that I would be lucky if the King of Goimr could afford the paints, much less any decent fee. And I was not pleased by the suggestion, during my interrogation, that the King was not quite in possession of his senses.
But I had little time for reflection. Soon enough, a barge was found to transport the policemen and myself over to the Isle Royale, and from there it was but a few minutes before I was ushered into a large chamber.
The furnishings in the chamber were of the sort I was coming to expect. The tapestries were particularly wretched, although they did serve to cover most of the grime and water stains on the walls. Behind a desk sat a man of easy grace.
“What’s this, Sergeant?” he demanded, as soon as we entered the room. “Have you captured the wizard?”
The sergeant coughed apologetically. “Well, Chief Counselor Gerard, the truth is—we believe this man’s innocent.”
Chief Counselor Gerard’s face was a study in confusion.
“What man?” he demanded.
“Why, this man here, sir,” explained the sergeant, pointing to me. “The one we caught red-handed at the travel station. But after we put him to the question, it became clear that—”
“Imbecile!” The Chief Counselor’s face was flushed with anger. “What has this man to do with anything? I told you to capture the wizard! Does this man look like a wizard to you? Look at his clothes—he’s obviously from the Ozarine. Why would you seize him?”
The sergeant looked embarrassed. “Well, sir, when we arrived at the travel station—following your instructions, sir, I must point out—everyone fled but this man here. Stood there as guilty as sin, he did. Well, sir, as you know, it’s the first law of secret police work. Only a guilty man would attempt to act innocent. And then, after we caught him, he pleaded his innocence! Well, sir, as you know, only a guilty man—”