It was indeed, Finn thought, a curious caravan. Most of the folk were on foot, but in their wake were several carts, carts with outlandish high wooden wheels. Pulling the carts were teams of Bullies with ropes about their chests, tugging their burdens in step.
Whoever the people in the carts might be, they were far more comfortable than the struggling teams. Each wagon was covered with a canopy shade held aloft by wooden poles. There might, Finn thought, be drink and fresh cakes inside.
He felt the carts looked familiar, felt, with a touch of apprehension, he had seen them before, and of a sudden, knew exactly where. Just such a cart had delivered Sabatino's father in a cage to Market Square.
“Who are they?” Finn asked, for Sabatino was scowling at the caravan as well. “What are they doing here?”
“What they always do,” Sabatino said. “Mind other people's business, stick their big noses in everyone's affairs, snoop around where they aren't welcome, turn up where they don't belong.”
“Oh, I see,” Finn said.
“And that one, the one with the red and purple top and the vile yellow wheels; that is my dear, dear uncle, the foul and loathsome Nicoretti himself.”
“Him? Coming here? Bees and Trees, you don't see a bunch of Bowsers with him, do you?”
Sabatino showed a curious eye. “Now where did you hear about them?”
“I don't know, in town somewhere, I really don't recall.”
He hadn't shared these adventures, and didn't intend to start now.
“Huuuh …” Sabatino said, in a tone that said he didn't accept this explanation at all.
The horde on foot, a hundred, maybe more, stopped just short of the line of dead grass beyond Sabatino and Finn. They stood in such a neat and even line that Finn thought there might have been a sign, a fence, a stripe painted boldly on the ground. Everyone knew where to stand, exactly how far from the house they ought to be.
No one smiled, everybody scowled. Now and then they muttered, whispered, mumbled among themselves.
“These people don't look content,” Finn said. “Are we in danger here?”
“Not yet, but you never can tell.”
As if in answer, someone began to throw fruit. A very old peach landed close to Sabatino, splattering his boots. A pear and a melon after that, but both fell rather short.
Sabatino's hand went instinctively to his belt where his weapon ought to be, if his mad grandfather hadn't taken it away.
“Be on your guard, Master Finn, there could be trouble on the way.”
“Have you noticed? I'm on the ground here, I can't stand up.”
Sabatino didn't answer. All at once, the crowd began to part. From somewhere farther back, brilliant red plumes began to bob up and down. From Finn's rather limited view it seemed a curious sight, as if a flock of very tall birds were engaging in a dance, or possibly a fight.
This illusion vanished when the first feathered figure appeared. They were men, not birds, no more or less shabby, odorous and worn, than their peers in the crowd, except for the bright scarlet crests upon their heads.
“Birds and Turds,” Finn said, taken aback by the sight, “how many churches do you
“Don't be a fool,” Sabatino said, without a glance at Finn. “It's not a church at all, it's the Crimson Lancers Volunteers.”
“I don't see a lance anywhere.”
“They're not allowed to carry arms. We won't put up with that.”
Someone in the mob threw a squash that was well beyond its time. Someone threw a tomato that struck Sabatino on the knee.
“All right, we'll have none a' that. Any more tossing of produce, I'll shackle everyone here!”
A stout fellow with heavy brows and a crooked nose stepped out of the crowd. Finn couldn't place him at once, then saw it was the fellow at TAVERN who'd refused to let him in.
“Sorry for the intrusion, Master Sabatino,” he said with a scornful look at Finn. “There's trouble up here it seems, and we got to step in.”
“There is no trouble here,
“With all respect, sir, I feel that you do. Your residence appears to be causing unrest. Some type of discharge, some sorta seep, some kind of ooze is coming from your place. Something, it seems, that clouds men's minds. Folks are reporting diarrhea and unholy thoughts. One lady said a demon intruded on her parts.”
“Rubbish, folderol,” Sabatino said. “We're having trouble with the plumbing, it's nothing more than that.”
The Constable glared at Finn.
“What happened to him?”
“I believe he's injured a leg.”
“That's another thing, sir, and I might as well say it right out. We know you've had persons-eating and sleeping, staying overnight in your house …”
Constable Bob rubbed his chin, having difficulty getting the words out. “That's not our way, I don't have to tell you that. Whatever else is going on here, it's causing unrest. That said, sir, I'm going to have to take a look at that house.”
“Please do.” Sabatino looked amused. “Have a look around.”
The Constable frowned. He had a most suspicious nature and didn't trust people who smiled.
“And you,” he said to Finn, “don't be hanging 'round TAVERN anymore, I'm not about to let you in.”
“You made that clear,” Finn said.
“Good. Nothing personal. We don't cater to perverts or strangers of any kind. Bursoni! Thomas! I want a squad over to the house. Move it right now! Ricko, get those louts in line!”
The Constable stalked off. Men of the Crimson Lancers Volunteers jogged into groups of three, seven and nine. Some, Finn noted, ran into one another. Others hooted and rapidly blinked their eyes.
“The volunteers …” Finn began.
“Don't start, Finn. The Lancers come from all denominations. We're not bigots here.”
“There's that.”
“Damn those bleeding meddlers, they can't blame this fiasco on me. They'll
And, as if the house had overheard, in some uncanny manner listened in, a new tremor shivered through the ground, quivered in dread oscillation through the very air …
45
The crowd began to moan in common fear. A young woman screamed, an old man dropped to the ground. Finn could feel the fearsome thing himself, feel the sickly emanations as a chill in his belly and a trembling in his head.
“I've got to get in there,” he said, “I can't just lie here, I've got to get her out!”
“Well, crawl right in, Master Finn,” Sabatino said with an unwholesome grin. “By all means, don't let us hold you back. Rescue the maiden, we'll cheer you on from here …”
Then, of a sudden, Sabatino's smile fell, replaced by a dark malicious glare.
“This day is yet to do its worst, I see. By damn, he's got gall coming here.”
Finn looked past Sabatino to see Nicoretti stalking through the crowd. He clutched a black bag in one hand, and two stubby Bowsers followed at his heels.
The Bowsers stopped some distance away, a great relief to Finn, as he suspected he'd seen the pair before. Mean-eyes and Pugnose, he was nearly sure.
