Heart's tale

Chapter 1 Part 2

Wolfie, quickly regaining his senses, looked in the direction to which the Master's finger and the observation device were pointing. In the distance, over the roofs of the Old Quarter, rising above the marketplace and his canal, Wolfie could see scaffolding and the Magistrate's ships carrying materials to barges parked near the scaffolding. But what disturbed him was the strange smoke that stretched in spiraling curls from the great market — on the square in front of the Colosseum there was a whipping post, and it was time for a public flogging before the feast.

"They're going to build a new neighborhood on this junk," the Grand Master snickered. "You know what he suggested, you know? Pour concrete all the way to the root! Ha! Ha!"

His beard, which he had just tidied up, exploded again.

"What a bunch of brainless, uneducated bastards!" Perleglose was indignant.

"It is difficult for me to evaluate the actions of the High Magistrate, it is dangerous to my health. I have you and your wisdom for that," Wolfie promptly responded, bowing his head again.

"Cracking wise, Wolf?" Trocchia squinted his eyes. "Bowing to me again. Your sneering and your formal language make me sick to my stomach. The only one! The only worthy man jokes off and hides behind his official language ("The only worthy man," the voice repeated softly). Wait till I promote you to senior, or even to sector master, hmm? What are you going to do then? It will be your head," the Grand Master squinted at him, "I know. You revenging me for keeping you in this swamp."

"("Yes!" angrily muttered the inner voice) You know that I..." Wolfie began, but Perleglose interrupted him:

"I know what you're going to say. And you'll be right. I'll do what I can. I promise you'll be relocated. Besides, soon there won't be any need to do anything if these crazy kids get the final green light in the Senate. The Migration Period will happen all by itself."

"Thank you," Wolfie bowed once more ("Or more like they burn everyone," the acerbic voice snickered in his head).

"Don't, don't do that," the Grand Master rolled his eyes. "I don't need your bows. Bow to the cultists. Do you know what's still stopping them? Only that there's the old temple library of those fanatics, with their chants that are still part of the Wonder Set," Perleglose rolled his eyes again. "What about the fact that this whole neighborhood is a monument of architecture? And the fact that it's as decrepit as my legs? ("And the fact that I seem to have my head burnt in," the voice murmured.) Doesn't that stop them? Or don't they care about a story that doesn't benefit them? I understand that they want to tear down everything that once bore the name 'Parliament' in this City. They're not fools, they can see the shade..." Perleglose was already breathing heavily and grabbed his side with one hand ("Liver," the voice in Galahad's head stated) and leaned on the hot bar with the other, but pulled it away at once.

"Whew. Okay. Red moon down their throats. Are you going to fix Amun?" Trocchia asked, catching his breath and shaking his hand.

"Oh my... it's been a long time since I've climbed it," Magister Wolfie raised his head at the castle.

"Wonderful construction," sighed the Grand Master, "It would be a pity to lose them."

"Well, they'll last a long time with my help," Wolfie said.

The Grand Master's beard, meanwhile, was blowing in the wind, and he was catching it and tucking parts of it behind his belt.

"Well, you have calmed me down."

"I am glad, Your Grace."

"Yeah... yeah... Well, good luck, good luck. You're our hope, Wolf."

"Thank you, Your Grace!" the Magister bowed again.