the adjoining estates probably assumed the tenants were from China, for three of them spoke no English, and the other three preferred to speak Chinese except when absolutely necessary. In fact, without a very carefully tailored translation spell that make it possible for Brenda, Nissa, and Riprap to understand Chinese, someone—probably Des, because he loved such word games—would have constantly been employed interpreting between the groups.
However, it’s a good thing that no one around here speaks Chinese
, Brenda thought.
Otherwise, the neighbors would quickly realize what an odd form of the language Pearl’s tenants speak. Their lack of information regarding current events, both here and in China, also would be certain to raise eyebrows
.
When the vehicles disgorged their passengers at the top of an elegant circular driveway, the front door of Colm Lodge was opened by Righteous Drum. The Dragon from the Lands was a somewhat stout, middle-aged Chinese gentleman dressed in a pale yellow polo shirt and khaki trousers. The shirt’s sleeve hung empty at the right shoulder, a visible reminder of how dangerous their situation had become.
Righteous Drum’s hair was cut short, in the modern style, and he was clean shaven. Brenda personally thought Righteous Drum looked a lot like Chairman Mao, and no matter how many times Riprap—who had a thing about precision—pointed out to her all the ways the description didn’t match, Brenda stubbornly stuck to it.
Maybe it has as much to do with how Righteous Drum carries himself. I mean, any other guy his age would look really dumb, always dressing in shades of yellow, but Righteous Drum carries it off. He’s got that poise that says, “I’m a person of consequence,” or something.
“Righteous Drum,” Pearl said as she mounted the short flight of steps that led to the front door. She spoke the Chinese of the Lands. “Thank you for accepting this invasion. We apologize for giving you such short notice.”
Righteous Drum smiled graciously, and opened the door wider.
“We expected some sort of visit today,” he replied in the same language, “especially when Riprap phoned to inform us that your household would not be joining ours for practice. Come in. Have you eaten?”
Brenda knew this last was a traditional Chinese greeting, and knew the proper response was to state that she had. Therefore, even though some wonderful odors drifting from the back of the house made her stomach rumble, she joined the others in saying she was well fed.
“Even so,” Righteous Drum said, and a twinkle in his eyes made Brenda wonder just how good his hearing might be, “my daughter, Honey Dream, is setting out a few refreshments and a variety of beverages. This house hold hopes you will avail yourselves of our hospitality.”
He gestured in the direction of the large formal living room that was set to one side of the entry foyer. Extra chairs had been brought in from other parts of the house. Brenda counted seating for eleven, and Righteous Drum answered the unspoken question.
“When your phone call came, I had the impression that we might be discussing sensitive matters. I thought that perhaps it would be best if the three who until very recently were our prisoners were not admitted into conferences that, after all, are related to matters of the Twelve.”
Pearl nodded, and no one else objected.
Brenda thought “The Twelve” was a rather loose way of describing their company, for the Orphans counted their full number as thirteen. She, technically, was not even one of those thirteen, since her father, Gaheris Morris, was still alive and still actively the Rat.
But Gaheris, as soon as the battle of Tiger’s Road was concluded, had departed San Jose. He ran his own business, Unique Wonders, and seemed to feel everything would fall apart if he wasn’t on hand to meet with clients.
Brenda joined Riprap and Nissa, who were heading out into the kitchen. Helping out had been the
However, it’s a good thing that no one around here speaks Chinese
, Brenda thought.
Otherwise, the neighbors would quickly realize what an odd form of the language Pearl’s tenants speak. Their lack of information regarding current events, both here and in China, also would be certain to raise eyebrows
.
When the vehicles disgorged their passengers at the top of an elegant circular driveway, the front door of Colm Lodge was opened by Righteous Drum. The Dragon from the Lands was a somewhat stout, middle-aged Chinese gentleman dressed in a pale yellow polo shirt and khaki trousers. The shirt’s sleeve hung empty at the right shoulder, a visible reminder of how dangerous their situation had become.
Righteous Drum’s hair was cut short, in the modern style, and he was clean shaven. Brenda personally thought Righteous Drum looked a lot like Chairman Mao, and no matter how many times Riprap—who had a thing about precision—pointed out to her all the ways the description didn’t match, Brenda stubbornly stuck to it.
Maybe it has as much to do with how Righteous Drum carries himself. I mean, any other guy his age would look really dumb, always dressing in shades of yellow, but Righteous Drum carries it off. He’s got that poise that says, “I’m a person of consequence,” or something.
“Righteous Drum,” Pearl said as she mounted the short flight of steps that led to the front door. She spoke the Chinese of the Lands. “Thank you for accepting this invasion. We apologize for giving you such short notice.”
Righteous Drum smiled graciously, and opened the door wider.
“We expected some sort of visit today,” he replied in the same language, “especially when Riprap phoned to inform us that your household would not be joining ours for practice. Come in. Have you eaten?”
Brenda knew this last was a traditional Chinese greeting, and knew the proper response was to state that she had. Therefore, even though some wonderful odors drifting from the back of the house made her stomach rumble, she joined the others in saying she was well fed.
“Even so,” Righteous Drum said, and a twinkle in his eyes made Brenda wonder just how good his hearing might be, “my daughter, Honey Dream, is setting out a few refreshments and a variety of beverages. This house hold hopes you will avail yourselves of our hospitality.”
He gestured in the direction of the large formal living room that was set to one side of the entry foyer. Extra chairs had been brought in from other parts of the house. Brenda counted seating for eleven, and Righteous Drum answered the unspoken question.
“When your phone call came, I had the impression that we might be discussing sensitive matters. I thought that perhaps it would be best if the three who until very recently were our prisoners were not admitted into conferences that, after all, are related to matters of the Twelve.”
Pearl nodded, and no one else objected.
Brenda thought “The Twelve” was a rather loose way of describing their company, for the Orphans counted their full number as thirteen. She, technically, was not even one of those thirteen, since her father, Gaheris Morris, was still alive and still actively the Rat.
But Gaheris, as soon as the battle of Tiger’s Road was concluded, had departed San Jose. He ran his own business, Unique Wonders, and seemed to feel everything would fall apart if he wasn’t on hand to meet with clients.
Brenda joined Riprap and Nissa, who were heading out into the kitchen. Helping out had been the
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