In the twenty years or so since Loncie had retired and returned to Petaybee, she had acquired quite a bit of weight, an air of authority far exceeding that she had wielded as a chief petty officer, and an incredibly large family. Now almost as round as she was tall, she wore her thick black hair, still only lightly threaded with silver, in an array of braids, secured to her head with an intricately carved and immensely valuableJohnny saw Matthew looking at the artifact covetouslyivory comb that had not come from any creature supposedly native to this planet.
“Ah, pobrecita!” Lonciana cried when she saw the girl. She barely acknowledged Johnny’s cautious introduction of Matthew Luzon and his assistant. Instead, she lifted and clasped to an ample bosom the startled, wide-eyed, scrawny waif. “Que lastima! What has life been doing to you?” Her black eyes snapped with anger directed at Matthew.
“Easy, now, Loncie,” Johnny said. “We found her on the flats. She says she’s from some hell hole called the Vale of Tears.”
Loncie sucked her breath in between her teeth and her eyes narrowed angrily.
“We have heard of such a place,” she said. “Tsering Gonzales’s boy, who was never right in the head, he said he was going there. He had heard of the place from someone who came trading poorly made cloth for suppliesthe man had a boy with him. The boy ran away and long after Jetsun left, Tsering heard tales the boy had told the family that took him in. It is a terrible place. They beat and frighten the children with the most outrageous superstitious nonsense and call it religion! Or so I’ve heard tell.”
Matthew Luzon looked as if someone had just given him a gift and opened his mouth to speak, but Loncie had returned to her new charge. “Never mind, pobrecita, you are safe here with Lonciana Ondelacy.”
Johnny didn’t want Loncie to take a wily bastard like Luzon too lightly, and flashed her a rather urgent glance, which she caught and immediately understood. Turning to Luzon, she radiated her own considerable charm.
“Do be seated, most gracious Senior Luzon and rescuer of this little scrap of humanity. Pablo, have you not brought the wine? Carmelita, you and Isabella see to the needs of this little one.”
She put the child on her feet and gently pushed her toward two daughters who would undoubtedly rival their mother for size and beauty. They smiled winningly at the child, who was nearly catatonic with such unwarranted treatment.
“And how is the nina called, Juanito?” she asked Johnny.
It took him a long moment to answer, but with Loncie looking at him so hard, he had no escape.
“She says her name is Goat-dung!”
“Ay, de mio!” And Lonciana’s hands went heavenward. “Tsering did say that they name their young in such a way, to shame and humiliate them, but it is beyond my lips to form such a name in front of the innocent ears of my own children “
“But, mamacita, we know that goats make dung,” Carmelita said, giggling.
“Goats do not make los ninos wear such names. Pobrecita we will call you, little one. Take her, bathe her, and see what of your sisters’ clothing will clad her decently. I will come and see to her injuries whilePablo, where is the wine? Ah, here, and biscuits. Oh, you are so clever, mi esposo!” And she beamed on the wiry little man who was entering the room, carrying yet another beautiful artifact to astound Luzon.
This was a silver tray, some of its fine etching cleaned to the copper below the plating, covered with a fine white lace cloth, with a glass decanter and some very plebeian shot glasses of the type to be seen in any Intergal bar.
Senior Pablo, whose last name Johnny didn’t catchit probably wasn’t Ondelacy, since that was the name he had known Loncie by when she was a senior chiefwas a perfect foil for his wife. He was as quiet as Loncie was verbose, and he showed to Matthew Luzon the deference and respect due to any sneaky and poisonous creature. Pablo gravely insisted that Don Matthew must take the heavy armchair, so incongruous among the rest of the utilitarian furnishings, and gave him first pick of the refreshments.