The Prince and his entourage disembarked to a salvo of champagne corks
and the elderly courtiers crowed with delight. Quite by chance,
Gareth had struck upon the Ethiopians' love of feasting and strong
sense of hospitality.
Little that he could have done would have endeared him more to his
guests.
'I say, this is very decent of you, my dear Swales' said the
Prince. With his innate sense of courtesy, he had not used Gareth's
nickname since the first greeting. Gareth was grateful and when the
glasses were filled he called for the first toast.
'His Majesty, Negusa Nagast, King of Kings, Emperor Baile
Selassie, Lion of Judah.' And they drained their glasses, which seemed
to be the correct form, so Gareth and Jake imitated them, and then they
fell upon the food, giving Gareth a chance to whisper to Jake, 'Think
up some more toasts we've got to get them filled up.' But he needn't
have worried for the Prince came in with: 'His Britannic Majesty,
George V, King of England and Emperor of India.' And no sooner were
the glasses filled again than he bowed to Jake and lifted his glass.
'The President of the United States of America, Mr. Franklin D.
Roosevelt.' Not to be outdone, each of the courtiers shouted an
unintelligible toast in Amharic, presumably to the Prince and his
father and mother and aunts, uncles and nieces, and the glasses were
upended. The waiters rushed back and forth to the steady report of
champagne corks.
'The Governor of the British Colony of Tanganyika.' Gareth lifted his
glass, slurring slightly.
'And the Governor's daughter,' Jake murmured sardonically.
This provoked another round of toasts from the robed guests, and then
it dawned on Jake and Gareth simultaneously that it was folly to try
drinking level with men who had been bred and reared on the fiery tej
of Ethiopia.
'How are you feeling?' muttered Gareth anxiously, squinting slightly
to focus.
Beautiful, 'Jake grinned at him beatifically.
'By God, these fellows know how to pack it away.'
'Keep pounding them, Forty. You've got them on the run.' With his
empty glass he indicated the smiling but sober group of courtiers.
'I'd be grateful if you could refrain from using that name, old chap.
Distasteful, what? Not in the best of style.' Gareth slapped his
shoulder with bonhomie and almost missed. A look of concern crossed
his face. 'How do I sound?'
'You sound like I feel. We'd better get out of here before they drink
us flat on our backs.'
'Oh
God, there he goes again,' Gareth muttered with alarm as the Prince
raised his brimming glass and looked about him expectantly. 'Wine with
you, my dear Swales,' he called as he caught Gareth's eyes.
'Enchanted, I'm sure.' Gareth had no choice but to acknowledge and
toss off the contents of his glass before hurrying forward to intercept
the waiter who darted in to recharge the Prince's empty glass.
