to show me the records for this date?”
“As you require, Your Dignity.” 2 The clerk turned Pardero a second half-surreptitious side-glance, and his manner altered even further, becoming tinged with doubt, or uneasiness, or even anxiety. He bent with an almost audible creaking of vertebrae and elevated a leather-bound ledger to the counter. With a reverential flourish he parted the covers, and one by one turned the pages, each of which. displayed a schematic chart of the hotel’s accommodations, with notations in inks of various colors. “Here, Dignity, is the date you mention. If you choose to advise me, I will assist you.”
Pardero inspected the ledger, but could not decipher the archaic calligraphy.
In a voice meant to convey an exquisite and comprehensive discretion the clerk spoke on. “On this phase our facilities were not overextended. In our ‘Sincere Courtesy’ wing, we housed the trismets 3 of various gentlefolk. You will notice the chambers so indicated. In our ‘Approbation’ accommodations we served the Eiodark Torde and the Wirwove Ippolita, with their respective trismets. The ‘Altitude’ suite was occupied by the Kaiark Rianlle of Eccord, the Kraike Dervas, the Lissolet Maerio. In the ‘Hyperion’ suite we entertained the late Kaiark Jochaim of Scharrode, may his ghost be quickly appeased, with the Kraike Singhalissa, the Kangs Efraim and Destian, and the Lissolet Sthelany.” The clerk turned his trembling and dubious smile upon Pardero. “Do I not now have the honor of addressing His Force the new Kaiark of Scharrode?”
Pardero said somewhat ponderously: “You recognize me then?”
“Yes, Your Force, now that I have spoken with you. I admit to confusion; your presence has altered in a way which I hardly know how to explain. You seem, shall we say, more mature, more controlled, and of course your foreign garments enhance these differences. But I am certain that I am right.” The clerk peered in sudden doubt. “Am I not, Your Force?”
Pardero smiled coolly. “How could you demonstrate the fact one way or the other without my assurance?”
The clerk muffled an exclamation. Muttering under his breath he brought to the counter a second leather-bound volume, twice the size of the ledger. He glanced peevishly toward Pardero, then turned thick pages of pale brown parchment.
Pardero asked: “What book is that?”
The clerk looked up from the pages, and now his gray old lips sagged incredulously. “I have here the Great Rhune Almanac. Are you not familiar with it?”
Pardero managed a curt nod. “Show me the folk who occupied the Hyperion suite.”
“Inexorable Force, I was about to do so.” The clerk turned pages. On the left were genealogical charts, ladders, linkages, and trees, indited in rich inks of various colors; on the right photographs were arranged in patterns relative to the charts: thousands upon thousands of names, an equal number of likenesses.
The clerk turned pages with maddening deliberation. At last he halted, pondered a moment, then tapped the page with his finger. “The lineage of Scharrode.”
Pardero could restrain himself no longer. He turned the volume about and studied the photographs.
Halfway down the page a pale-haired man of middle maturity looked forth. His face, angular and bleak, suggested an interesting complexity of character. The forehead might have been that of a scholars the wide mouth seemed composed against some unwelcome or unfashionable emotion, such as humor. The superscription read: Jochaim, House of Benbuphar, Seventy-ninth Kaiark.
A green linkage led to the still face of a woman, her expression unfathomable.
The caption read: Alferica, House of Jent. Below, a heavy maroon line led to the countenance of an unsmiling young man: a face which Pardero recognized as his own. The caption read: Efraim, House of Benbuphar, Kang of the Realm.
At least I now know my name, thought Pardero. I am Efraim, and I was Kang, and now I am Kaiark. I
“As you require, Your Dignity.” 2 The clerk turned Pardero a second half-surreptitious side-glance, and his manner altered even further, becoming tinged with doubt, or uneasiness, or even anxiety. He bent with an almost audible creaking of vertebrae and elevated a leather-bound ledger to the counter. With a reverential flourish he parted the covers, and one by one turned the pages, each of which. displayed a schematic chart of the hotel’s accommodations, with notations in inks of various colors. “Here, Dignity, is the date you mention. If you choose to advise me, I will assist you.”
Pardero inspected the ledger, but could not decipher the archaic calligraphy.
In a voice meant to convey an exquisite and comprehensive discretion the clerk spoke on. “On this phase our facilities were not overextended. In our ‘Sincere Courtesy’ wing, we housed the trismets 3 of various gentlefolk. You will notice the chambers so indicated. In our ‘Approbation’ accommodations we served the Eiodark Torde and the Wirwove Ippolita, with their respective trismets. The ‘Altitude’ suite was occupied by the Kaiark Rianlle of Eccord, the Kraike Dervas, the Lissolet Maerio. In the ‘Hyperion’ suite we entertained the late Kaiark Jochaim of Scharrode, may his ghost be quickly appeased, with the Kraike Singhalissa, the Kangs Efraim and Destian, and the Lissolet Sthelany.” The clerk turned his trembling and dubious smile upon Pardero. “Do I not now have the honor of addressing His Force the new Kaiark of Scharrode?”
Pardero said somewhat ponderously: “You recognize me then?”
“Yes, Your Force, now that I have spoken with you. I admit to confusion; your presence has altered in a way which I hardly know how to explain. You seem, shall we say, more mature, more controlled, and of course your foreign garments enhance these differences. But I am certain that I am right.” The clerk peered in sudden doubt. “Am I not, Your Force?”
Pardero smiled coolly. “How could you demonstrate the fact one way or the other without my assurance?”
The clerk muffled an exclamation. Muttering under his breath he brought to the counter a second leather-bound volume, twice the size of the ledger. He glanced peevishly toward Pardero, then turned thick pages of pale brown parchment.
Pardero asked: “What book is that?”
The clerk looked up from the pages, and now his gray old lips sagged incredulously. “I have here the Great Rhune Almanac. Are you not familiar with it?”
Pardero managed a curt nod. “Show me the folk who occupied the Hyperion suite.”
“Inexorable Force, I was about to do so.” The clerk turned pages. On the left were genealogical charts, ladders, linkages, and trees, indited in rich inks of various colors; on the right photographs were arranged in patterns relative to the charts: thousands upon thousands of names, an equal number of likenesses.
The clerk turned pages with maddening deliberation. At last he halted, pondered a moment, then tapped the page with his finger. “The lineage of Scharrode.”
Pardero could restrain himself no longer. He turned the volume about and studied the photographs.
Halfway down the page a pale-haired man of middle maturity looked forth. His face, angular and bleak, suggested an interesting complexity of character. The forehead might have been that of a scholars the wide mouth seemed composed against some unwelcome or unfashionable emotion, such as humor. The superscription read: Jochaim, House of Benbuphar, Seventy-ninth Kaiark.
A green linkage led to the still face of a woman, her expression unfathomable.
The caption read: Alferica, House of Jent. Below, a heavy maroon line led to the countenance of an unsmiling young man: a face which Pardero recognized as his own. The caption read: Efraim, House of Benbuphar, Kang of the Realm.
At least I now know my name, thought Pardero. I am Efraim, and I was Kang, and now I am Kaiark. I
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