Almost instantly, the little minion’s nose began to bleed and Demetrios sent him below to change clothing with the other minion, promising the terrified child dire punishment if his blood should damage the costly stuffs in which he was attired.
While the little slaves did his bidding, the High-Lord ordered Titos to fetch one of the dockside idlers who had been splicing ropes, mending nets, and chatting while gawking at the newcomers. The captain shortly returned with an ageless, weather-browned man and Demetrios commanded Sergios to question the oldster.
Shuffling his big, tar-stained feet on the worn stones of the quay, the man heard Sergios out, then replied nonchalantly in atrociously accented Ehleenokos. “Oh, aye, Cap’n, 01′ Short-nose kens you’re here, right enough. For a chariot, you’ll have a long wait, ’cause it ain’t no horses on these here islands. Ain’t no need for the critters, nor no graze, neither—the sheeps and goats and pigs gits it all.
“As for a litter . . .” Before continuing, he ran a tarry forefinger far up one nostril, withdrew it, and critically examined his findings, then casually wiped them on the seat of his filthy cotton breeches. “Wai, last litter I recollect seein’ was made outa two boat hooks and a slicker—or was it a boat cloak?—and they used it to carry what was left of oF Zohab up to the priest’s place, the day that there big shark got inta the 1’goon and chawed off his laigs, ‘fore the Orks drove it off’n him. He died, o’course. Wouldn’ta wanted to live, no how, ’cause the bugger’d torn off his parts, too.
“Manalivel He’uz some kinda big shark. You awta seed him. The Orks run him inta shaller water and we harpooned him and drug him up on the rocks and clubbed him ’til he stopped floppin’, then took a broad ax and took off his bottom jaw. ‘Cause, you know, his kind’ll bite even after they dead. Forty-foot long, he were, and weighed nigh on to eight-thousan’ pound, after he’z cut up. Never see’d a shark like him, I hadn’, and I hopes I never see another’n. He’uz a kinda dirty-white and he won’t shaped like most sharks, more like a tunny, I’d say.
“Well, didn’ nobody wanta eat none of him, and I can’t say I blames ’em none, what with him a-eatin’ the bes’ parta ol’ Zohab, like he done. His tooths, the mosta ’em was too big for arrow points, so we give ’em to ol’ Foros, the dart-maker, and you know what he told me?”
“Shut up!” screamed Demetrios, his face impurpled. “You garrulous old fool, we don’t want to hear another word about sharks. All we wish to be told is when Lord Pardos intends to send an honor guard to convey or’ conduct us to his palace.”
The Sea Islander gave his crotch a good scratching, then answered: “Well, cain’t say as how I knows what a honor guard’s like, but you cain’t miss Ol’ Short-Nose’s place, seein’ its the onlies’ place on this here islan’s got more’n two stories. And it’s right on top the hill, too, and that’s good, ’cause the muskeetas don’t offen go thet far. And you jes’ wouldn’ b’lieve how bad they gets sometimes. Course, they don’t bother dark-skinned folks like me near as much as they do the pore bugger’s got lighter skin.
“And, you know, you can b’lieve me or not, but it’s exac’ly the same way with fleas, too! Unless he’s a-starv-in’ to death, a flea’ll pass right over a dozen fellers, got dark skin and chomp right down on a light-skinned feller evertime. Thet’s why I tells these here light ‘uns thet the bestes’ than’ they c’n do is to git theyselfs jest as dark as they can as quick as they can.
“I tell you, I don’ know where they all comes from— muskeetas, I mean—but they jes’ lays up all day a-honin’ their boardin’ pikes. And come sundown they blows the conch and theys out a-reavin, ever’ mothers son of ’em. Course, the fleas and the lice is at it day and night, you know. But the lice ain’t so bad—’they only gits in your hair. Course, that’s bad iffen you got a lotta hair, like you young fellers do. But iffen you like me …” He broke off, staring at the High-Lord.