Royal Crown Commision: Chat with Blackswallow

[Jim Roberts]

[Jan 30 PM – Fort Resolute]

> “Well, HIS timing kinda sucks, or let’s hope that’s all.” Sully raised
> an eyebrow. “If I actually had YOU fooled, we both better hope I had
> HIM fooled, too, but why take chances. You of *course* have a discreet
> exit from here?”

> “Of course,” Blackswallow replied, nodding towards the front of her
> vardo. So when Finfin and Mithi were shown into the lead kurva’s
> office, they found Blackswallow alone, tallying up some account
> sheets.

“Captain Finfinfin and Lady Mithralia,” Blackswallow greeted her visitors.

“Ma’am,” the elf replied formally.

“To see you here the very day a supersecret meeting is underway at
Castle Sibley with that tiresome Abbot is hardly a surprise,” the majali
lady mused. “Have you anything more interesting to trade than simply
coffee? Information, perhaps?”

Finfin well understood that he did not even *begin* to have a sufficient
“game face” to be able to deny the claim, and any attempt to obfuscate
would simply add further credence to intelligence the Madame clearly
already had. Even saying nothing at all would confirm her intel to at
least *some* degree; that simply could not be helped. Instead, he simply
bowed, and replied, “Only that more details will be emerging, and that
they will be to everyone’s benefit.”

“Indeed?” Blackswallow asked archly.

“Indeed,” the elf confirmed. “Particularly to Fawnfire.”

“Fascinating,” the Madame mused. “I look forward to winkling out more
specifics in due course. It is a shame that Fawnfire is not available to
thank you in person for whatever benefit is coming her way, as I suspect
that you had a hand in that.”

The elf simply again bowed, not trusting himself to make any statement.
After a moment, Blackswallow continued, “Sadly, Fawnfire is with a
client at the moment. If you both would like to remain here for a while,
she will be available before *too* long, men’s stamina never matching
their wishes, and I am certain she would be eager to entertain you.”

As he had clearly been meant to, Finfin squirmed slightly; Fawnfire’s
sexual allure was simply too strong to pretend to deny. However, he
simply stuck to the truth. “As tempting as that might be, I have other
plans for tonight.” Smiling at his apprentice, he added fondly, “Plans
that very much involve Mithi.”

Blackswallow sniffed. “I must be becoming too subtle in my old age,” she
lamented. “Fawnfire has a particular speciality in threesomes. I am
comfortable saying that you *both* would be most welcome.” She licked
her lips, and purred, “I would be happy to entertain you myself in the
meantime.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Finfin answered politely. “But it would likely be
best if I kept to just mercantile business tonight.”

“Tiresome, but typical,” Blackswallow sighed, then continued in a sultry
tone. “I make more money off the information trade, but do keep in mind
that… entertainment… was how I got here, and still my real… passion…”
She leaned forward seemingly unconsciously in a fashion to give Finfin a
charmingly candid view hinting at the feminine charms available in her
OTHER line of business, and the temperature in the room seemed to rise
markedly. Blackswallow savored his reaction a moment, but seeing no
wavering of the elflord’s resolve, the Madame sighed again and suggested
briskly, “produce your latest product, and if it meets the high
expectations that have been met to date, you will be paid in full.”

And some minutes later, the two wizards were on their way back to Fort
Resolute. Their most recent batch of “product” from Seaholm had been
exchanged for cash, the profits of which would feed an up and coming Big
Night out for the Pussycats and Pals out on the town.

Finfin and Mithi were hardly out of sight when there was another
discreet knock on Blackswallow’s vardo door. “Yes,” she said in a voice
of tired resignation. “What now?” No doubt that dratted Sully returning
to continue their negotiation or confrontation or whatever the seemingly
cozy chat really was.

“You remember Hammarstyn,” asked Keenhare’s voice through the door? “Um,
he’s here, and asking about someone named ‘Sully’. He… uh… seems kinda
insistent on making sure she’s ok.”

“She should have…. Oh,” Blackswallow sank down in her chair wearily, and
lowered her voice. “Of *course* you never left. I *very* much hope
you’re ok.”

“Perfectly lovely,” Sully announced cheerily, twitching the curtains
open on the bed to reveal the weretiger woman lounging indolently on
Blackswallow’s bed. “Sinfully comfortable, this is a VERY nice bed, my
compliments. Makes sense, all things considered.”

“I should have known better than to send an all-too smug cat out on a
route that took her over my bed,” Blackswallow muttered, then raised her
voice. “Tell Hammerstyn she’s fine, other than being unnaturally quiet
and far too quick-thinking for my taste.”

“Best tell him more than that,” Sully advised happily, rolling over to
peer out at Blackswallow over the top of the pillow she was propping
herself on to watch. “Especially since you know about the super-secret
meeting. The threesomes sound fun, Cap’n Finfin needs ta get out more.”

“Oh, good,” the Madame grumbled, rubbing her temples. “I don’t yet know
too much, so you get to play with your prey longer. I’m not sure whether
to be relieved or more worried.”

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic,” the weretiger chided jovially. “Hammarstyn
can already hear me, so you’re fine, and we don’t wanna risk
interrupting the flow of really good coffee at the best prices we’ve
ever seen anyway if we don’t hafta. We’ve got at least a few minutes for
me to torment you before I *have* to give him a code phrase.”

“If you haven’t already,” Blackswallow smirked.

“You can never tell with Flying Tigers,” Sully agreed from her perch in
Blackswallow’s bed at the front of the vardo. The Madame sourly noted
that the door to the driver’s seat the weretiger was supposed to have
used to quietly exit the vardo was carefully latched, after Sully had
opened and closed it and made the appropriate stealthy sounds and subtle
shifting of the vardo as if she had left. The implications of the fact
she had somehow been able to do that and still park herself in the bed
to shamelessly eavesdrop without ever being detected were yet another
unsettling revelation to Blackswallow.

“You have me, I am feeling distinctly tormented,” the Madame sighed, but
she was fighting the tentative urge to grin. The young brat-cat had
style, and quite apparently could back it up. There was no sense sealing
the brash weretiger operative’s triumph by giggling like a schoolgirl.
Sully’s knowing grin kind of worried her, was she so badly rattled that
this seemingly breezy and harmless tall thin drink of water of an
irritating weretiger master spy actually thought she could divine the
legendarily inscrutable Madame’s inner thoughts? Worse, WAS she?

“Well, we can’t have that,” Sully purred cheerily. She raised her voice,
and asked loudly, “Why would a fellow want a girl like her?” She looked
poignantly toward Blackswallow as she spoke and let her raised eyebrows
make a shared joke out of the code-phrase no doubt chosen JUST in case
she got the opportunity for this sort of quip. Once again showing an
uncanny competence and capability to anticipate situations that proved
her fearsome reputation was no accident or overblown tale. Drat the woman.

They heard a deep voice from outside respond, “A candle lights her head.”

“She is really as wonderful as she seems,” Sully concluded with a
flourish, pointing dramatically to herself. Blackswallow just shook her
head and tried not to groan. The Flying Tiger deserved the kudos, yes,
but gloating was just a little unseemly. If there was one thing the
Madame’s information gathering had taught her, it was that weretigers
were like that.

“That seems to have satisfied him,” Keenhare’s voice reported through
the door. “He turned around and stalked off into the night just like
that without a word. What the hell was THAT all about?”

“It’s fine, and you really don’t want to ask questions,” Blackswallow
suggested firmly. She just wished SHE had that luxury. All of her staff
were well used to that refrain, and usually agreed fervently when the
Madame suggested they probably did not want to know. She did her best
not to abuse that trust, but she knew very well she was often capricious
and arbitrary about invoking that excuse for her own convenience.

“Yeah, somebody might answer,” the Flying Tiger chuckled, at least
seemingly oblivious to the subtext. Wisely, Keenhare had already
returned to his post and was beyond any chance of hearing her low-voiced
gibe, or if he did hear chose not to respond.

“I can’t believe you used lines from old musicals as passphrases,”
Blackswallow shook her head. “How on earth did you ever hear about them?”

“Hey, just cuz we’re barbarians living out in the woods, don’t mean we
ain’t got no culture,” the Flying Tiger said defensively. “Hammerstyn’s
wife has staged ALL the plays she has scripts for since around the time
I was born.”

“I should have known,” Blackswallow sighed. “The name alone should have
given it away.”

“No relation, it’s just a coincidence, one of those things,” Sully
smiled. “Amused hell out of HER, once she stopped screaming, I mean. You
think Rodger and Hammarstyn have problems, you wouldn’t believe how many
of the kids of my generation out here got their names from Jarmila’s
plays. Quite the rage back then, and still popular even now.”

“At least it’s not Shakespeare,” the Madame said philosophically.

“She tried those, they never drew as well,” Sully informed her lazily.
“No songs, but a few of us like them.”

“The media has much to answer for,” Blackswallow sighed. “I know another
irritatingly competent young spook who loves Shakespeare.”

“That is putting it a bit strongly in my case, but we should introduce
your friend to Ophelia,” the weretiger nodded. “He’s not really a
Shakespeare fan, but always fun to wind him up.”

“He,” the Madame shook her head in bemusement. “So much for a deep
appreciation of the culture.”

“It lost something in the translation,” Sully agreed. “You think HE has
it bad, his sister got stuck with Hamlet. Their mom loved the play, but
it had been a while and her memory was apparently a bit hazy on the
details by then.”

Blackswallow just shook her head again. Not like she hadn’t seen gender
reversed performances at times, and Majali were hardly in a position to
critique unusual naming conventions.