Cocoa snapped at him. 'Well, then consider how the animals must be suffering! Your fellow cats, and dogs.'
'Not to forget the birds,' Taj put in. He glanced in Samm's direction. 'And I suppose, the snakes.'
Already half-asleep, the giant spoke softly and without opening his eyes. 'Mundurucu, Horde, or humans—it doesn't matter. Snakes always suffer. We are condemned to it through rumor, falsehood, and ignorance. I do not believe we would suffer so if others would think of us as quadriplegic lizards. Most folk have no fear of lizards.'
'Perhaps in this benign land even the serpents are well regarded,' Oskar offered by way of encouragement.
'Perhaps.' The giant sighed heavily. 'Some of us are born to greater burdens than others. That is just the way of things.'
The following morning did not tell them if this was a place where Oskar's hopes for legless reptiles might be fulfilled, but it certainly began in a promising manner. The gnomelike farmer they encountered tilling a thick, ripening field of several different varieties of melon seemed delighted to see them. He was not at all put off by their greater size, or different appearances. Instead, he put his tilling tool aside and rushed to greet them with open arms.
For all the narrow white-orange beard that reached to his belt buckle, he was no older than Oskar. He wore single-piece coveralls, sandals of peculiar but practical design, a short-sleeved shirt that revealed hairy arms, and a wide-brimmed hat to shield his head from the tropical orange sun.
His manner of speech was rapid, clipped, and punctuated with laughter.
'Ho my, what a collection, you are! Ho hee oh, never have I seen such a people-bundle! Come in, come! Or rather, tee-hee, come near, for by my foot-socks I don't think you'll the least of you fit comfortablish in my house.'
Their exuberant, mirthful host led them around to the back of a sturdy stone farmhouse with a thatched roof. In a neatly fenced yard there was a long bench table with chairs built low to the earth. By seating themselves on the ground, the travelers were able to access the tabletop quite comfortably.
'Myssa!' the swart creature shouted toward the house, 'we have company, ho-ho. Bring food, and drinkish!'
Cocoa made a face their host could not see. 'As good as it tasted, if I have to eat another bite of orange fruit it's going to cost me one of my hypothetical nine lives.'
'We must be polite.' Oskar kept his voice down. 'Just take a nibble of this and that, and sip of whatever is offered. Would you rather be back in the Kingdom of Red and have this little fellow whacking you across the nose with a stout stick?'
'No,' she admitted quietly. 'I suppose I should be grateful. There are worse things than being asked to eat too much good food.'
'Hee-hee-ha-ha!' Their host's spouse, when she appeared with tray held high on one hand and jug in the other, was a rosy-cheeked little homunculus clad in dress, apron, and spry bonnet—all of varying orange hue, of course. Similarly shaded was the tray of multiple goodies she set before them, each more sprightly garnished than the next. The jug proved to contain a wine that was as tasty as it was cold. Confronted with the unexpected spread, Cocoa decided not to inquire if their hosts had any milk.
'I'm Tilgrick,' the farmer chuckled from the head of the table. 'What brings an extraordinary hodgepodgey like yourselves to my little farm, ha-ha-ho-hee?'
Do these two ever stop laughing? Mamakitty found herself wondering. Are they always so good-natured in the presence of strangers, or is there something deeper at work here? Without any basis for suspicion, she could only speculate.
'We have come from a far place,' she told their mightily condensed host as his wife topped off their happy goblets. 'From beyond even the Kingdom of Red.'
'So far! But you have, hi-hi-hoo, survived that awful country.' Several of the travelers nodded. 'Wonderful, that is, hee-hee! The Kingdom of Orange is so much better a place, as you will find-oh.'
Samm held forth the bucket that had been provided for him in place of one of the attractive but to him inadequate goblets. Orange liquid sloshed within. 'We are already finding it so.'
'Good, good!' Tilgrick laughed, his spouse joining in serenely. 'What is it you want here? Whatever it is, ho- hoo, I'm sure you will certain find it. You don't have to stare at me like that to get me to answer.' Samm immediately lowered his gaze.
'We want nothing here,' Oskar told him, 'except some fleeting hospitality.' He raised his goblet. 'Which we have already found. We still, I fear, have far to go, to find the white light that we need.'
'White light?' For once, Tilgrick and his wife did not laugh as they exchanged a look. 'This is the Kingdom of Orange. You must truly have, ha-ha-hee, far yet to go. Why trouble yourselves with something so difficult to eye- magine, much less capture? Stay here, in our land, and be always ever always happy like us.'
Cezer was intrigued. 'You mean, everyone here is as contented as you two?'
'Oh no!' Tilgrick giggled. 'Myssa and I are left to ourselves by our neighbors. We are, ha-hee-ho, outcasts of a kind, habitual grouches that we are.'
Oskar was unsure he had heard correctly. 'You two are considered grouches? If you were cats, now, I could understand.' Cezer threw him a look.
'Oh yes, my my me, ho-hee!' Laughing steadily, Myssa refilled Oskar's half-empty goblet.
'Then what,' wondered Taj aloud, 'is everyone else like?'
'You can see for yourselves, hee-hee-hee.' Nodding with his long gnarled nose, Tilgrick gestured toward the northeast. 'A delegation is coming to visit. Others must have seen you cross the river, ho-ho-ha, and hurried to spread the joyful word.'
'Yeh. Joyful.' Though his belly was full, his taste buds sated, and his body warmed by the moist air and mild mid-morning sun, Oskar had to strive to summon up a correspondent smile as he leaned to look out the window.
Marching toward the farmhouse across an open, unplowed field came more than a hundred of the ardent, gnomish locals, every one of them vividly dressed, bouncy with excitement, and laughing hysterically as they walked. It was a shifting, stumpy, swaying panorama of unrestrained joy, exuberant delight, and runaway giddiness.
Oskar felt the hairs on the back of his neck bristle in all-too-familiar dog fashion.
Out in front of the advancing throng, a slightly taller homunculus raised a hand and waved, his words hard to make out above the communal belly-twittering.
'Hi-ho-hee there, Tilgrick! What is this dour company you keep-oh?'
Their host leaned over to whisper to Oskar. 'That twisted old graybeard is Nugwot. He's the local farmer's co-op representative. Word of your arrival spread quickly.'
'How?' Oskar wondered. 'You and your wife are the first folk we've seen since we left the river.'
'That
'I don't like the looks of this.' Pushing aside her plate full of orange-tinted victuals, Mamakitty had risen from the table and moved to the open space between picnic bench and field fence. 'These people aren't very big, but there are an awful lot of them.'
'So what?' A blissfully insouciant Cezer continued to munch contentedly on the bounty provided by their hosts. A few tails were all that was lacking to complete the gourmet repast. 'They're all cackling and chortling like a giggle of kittens strung out on catnip.'
'What about that?' Oskar remained close to their benefactor. 'Can you tell what they have in mind?'
'Not sure, ahee-ho.' Tilgrick waved his wife back into the farmhouse. 'I don't much like Nugwot. He's an officious so-and-so, ho-ho. But we get along well enough when we have to.' He started forward. 'Come with me, and we'll see what he has to say, and why he's brought so many with him.'
'I'll come, too,' declared Mamakitty.
'No.' Surprising himself, Oskar put out a hand to forestall her. Was this informal 'leader' business going to his head? He didn't think so. He would have insisted she stay back in any case. 'One of us is enough. If something unforeseen should happen, it's better that one of us be in a position to give advice to the others.'
Mouth full of assorted orangey fare, so that his face resembled an exploded melon, Cezer looked up and frowned. 'Hssst, I can give advice, too, you know!'
