'Mister Numps! Unhurt, coming willingly through the butchery. Hand in hand with a wee wizened thing by the name of Freckle, our glimner friend was wearing the most rapt expression I have ever known him to show; he could have been on a summerscale picnic for all he cared of the desperate melee about. Defended by many wizened bogles-glamgorns is their designation, I believe-this second party had won through to us, and together we fled down the Approach and on to the Harrowmath. Even with these kindly creatures' aid, it was only a sorry remnant of calendars, clerks and lighters that got free.'
'Master Sparrow and his tiny friend are busy fellows,' Europe observed.
Doctor Crispus went on. 'By the stars I could see that we were being taken southeast across the Harrowmath, reaching the marshes of Old Man's Itch at dawn. Past this Cinnamon took us, even to the wooded foothills of the northern extents of the Sparrowdowns, where only commerce men and fools will go.' Crispus wagged his head, clearly still astonished at the journey. 'Our way was necessarily slow, four days carrying hurt souls by boggy paths. Threnody, through all her sharp looks and squalls of temper, proved herself an august's daughter, seeking all our welfare, making sure stragglers did not fall too far behind.We fed on bulbs pulled from the ground and washed with trickling marsh water, and the bogles tended all hurts with skill-I say to my shame- beyond my learning. As for Numps, I have never seen him appear in such ecstasy, such transports of delight; while we sagged in our weariness, he capered with glee, hugging and holding hands with Cinnamon and the one called Freckle.'
Rossamund grinned broadly, easily conceiving the happy babble that the simple glimner would have chortled: My old old friends! Come to get me at last!
'Some folk were not so easy with such unterly company.' Crispus let out a puff of air. 'The calendars were perfectly at ease with monsters about them, yet several refugees lagged deliberately or slipped away at night to find their own way, ungrateful souls. Cinnamon did not prevent them, and I suppose I do not blame them-it is an altogether peculiar experience to be at a bogle's mercy. I certainly do not know what became of any of them.' He paused a little ominously. 'Finally, amid a great joyful flocking of sparrows and other small woodland birds swarming about us, we were met by the Duke of Sparrows-or so Dolours named him with surprising reverence-a lord of monsters, no less, direct from some spurious tome of legendry, as if monsters fighting monsters for the cause of men was not bamboozling enough!'
'You saw the sparrow-king!' Rossamund was astounded.
Fransitart and Craumpalin murmured in wonder.
Europe arched her diamond-spoored brow.
'Only from afar, my boy, only from afar,' the physician answered. 'He is, it seems, loath to be plainly viewed, but I could feel him, Rossamund, a profound and all-encompassing peace such as I have never known.' A faint smile hovering on his lips, he closed his eyes. 'Dolours was admitted to go farther but soon returned in much better weal than when she went in. Only Numps was let right up to the strange creature, and it soon became patent that he was to remain within its realm.' Crispus looked to Rossamund. 'Ahh, Rossamund, I do believe we can finally count him at peace. Our dear Mister Numps wished for me to tell you in coram-face-to-face-that he is as well as he could ever wish to be, safe now with his old, old friends, as he seemed inclined to name the Duke of Sparrows and Cinnamon. Safe now and forevermore, he made sure to have me tell you as his new old friend that he is home at last!'
Rossamund blinked rapidly. 'Aye, Doctor… He is surely in the best hands now.'
'It was a sore trial to leave that embracing calm, but more a human realm was best for us. With the glamgorn Freckle to help, the Lady Dolours and Threnody and their sisters saw the remaining hurt-now healing well-and myself safe to High Vesting. After this they departed again for their own clave-hall. Having set up the wounded at the local sanguinarium, I proceeded to charter the promptest packet out from that harbor and proceeded to you as quickly as I could.'
'A remarkable tale, Doctor,' said Europe. 'It seems the season for adventure. Since you are now without a home, you may stay here for as long as is convenient.'
Stretched thin and jaded, the physician looked for a moment as if he were about to burst into tears of gratitude. 'Well, gracious madam, I must get to Mister Sebastipole now-bring him report of Numps as well.'
'Nonsense, man,' the fulgar retorted. 'You are in no humor for further travel. Write him a letter as you need, but for now, remain. Think of it as recompense for the diligent care you took of Rossamund while he served with the lighters,' she ended a little more kindly.
Protesting his wish not to be a burden, the physician finally accepted. 'Well-well, I thank you… Oh,' he went on, 'and Threnody sends you word, Rossamund. If she had had pen and paper, she would have writ something, but she asked me to convey… Now, what was it…' He pressed a knuckle to his lips. 'Ah! That she hopes her words have not caused you too much harm and that she is glad you have got away clean with the Branden Rose.'
'Got away clean indeed,' Europe snorted quietly.
Rossamund frowned at his mistress, grateful nevertheless to have news of the fractious girl lighter.
'What became of the Master-of-Clerks, do you think, Doctor?' he asked.
'The manse was wreathed in flame when last I saw it from across the sodden meadow. Few others fled after us-mostly the larger of our nicker allies fighting what appeared to be a rear-guard action. I cannot think he survived, nor Pile with him.'
So the Master-of-Clerks had been served justice at last. The monsters had acted where men could or would not. 'No more gudgeon-making there,' Rossamund murmured.
Doctor Crispus smiled mirthlessly as he sagged in his seat. 'No, not in the manse's cellars, at least…'
'What will 'appen now, d'ye reckon?' came Fransitart's query.
The good doctor put a weary hand to his face. 'I heard that the landsaire encampment near Silvernook moved themselves in the small of the morning of the assault and sought to retake the manse. Repulsed bloodily at the gates, they were unable to win inside and fell back in disarray.' He sighed heavily and pressed a finger against his lips. 'I little expect that the empire of man will allow monsters to remain in its precincts unchallenged. An army will be mustered and sent, of that you can be sure.'
'Indeed,' Europe inserted. 'The Archduke might find a different use for his conquering regiments this summer.' After treacle and breakfast and letting Darter Brown outside to do those tasks it is a sparrow's part to do, the duties of the first day back in Brandenbrass began in Europe's file. Letters were waiting for them, a veritable bale of missives and communications collected over the time of their absence.
Only two were for Rossamund, one thick, one thin.
Sitting on a tandem by the unlit hearth, Europe taking up a seat opposite, he broke the letter's red sealing ribbon. Clearly from Verline, it was dated the 17th of Unxis-the very day he and Europe and his old masters had been ambushed-and it read as follows: My beloved stout-hearted Rossamund, What fright I had to read Master Fransitart's telling of your speedy exit from Winstermill Manse.What salve to know you are all well, though I do not know what to make of your succor at the care of that frightful Europa lady. She is a peer, however, so it cannot all be bad. Master F declares he feels you shall remain safe with her for the time, and I hope he may finally have some chance to rest his trickety leg.
I too have some news for you. From the time darling Masters Fransitart and Craumpalin left to come to you, Old Carp and Master Barthomaeus employed the services of a snugman. This fellow, whom I greeted but once-a rather alarming meeting-proved his large fee and found Gosling down in Proud Sulking. Horribly wounded, the lost soul was laid in a subscription infirmary, and would not say how he came by such hurts. Either hand, under right of bounty, Gosling was brought straight back to Boschenberg and has only just now stood before the judges' bench. Their honors pronounced him guilty of (I think I am penning it rightly) interitus causim incension, which Master Barthomaeus informs me is 'arsony occasioning death.' He says that Gosling was fortunate not to suffer caedes ad incendium (or 'murder by fire'-why they do not speak plain, I do not know). Because Gosling is so young, he is to be spared the noose, and is sentenced a convict to serve in the colonial quarries in Euclasia.
I went to him three times in the Lock, bringing food with me. The first he screamed and flailed at the door and tried to reach at me through the small holes in it. I was quite safe; the coston would never allow him near me. The second visit Gosling was quiet. I went in to him, but he simply stared at the wall with those uncommon black eyes. On the third he would not see me, though the goodly sergeant-coston let me take a look at him through the peep. I know all the wickedness he has done, yet still I cannot but feel sorry for him. Oh, if only you could have seen him as I did, Rossamund, you might well share the same tenderness.
At this point Rossamund stopped reading, eyes burning and milt colliding with a thousand unnameable emotions. Collecting himself and wiping his nose angrily on his sleeve, he pressed on:
