The True Confessions of a Nine-Tailed Fox

Chapter 89: A Very Useful Poet

For lack of anyone better (or at all, really) to bounce ideas off, I went to Katu.

I know, I know, but hey, his poems were actually pretty good, especially the one about me playing in Lodia's lap; we held some opinions in common (i.e. that Lodia needed get out of the house and get on with her life); and he was as proactive as I about helping her. So I might as well harness his energy for my plan.

As soon as I came up with one.

Which he was going to help me do.

I was entirely unsurprised to find the poet outside a wineshop, debating politics with the old folks. Although perhaps "debating" was not the right word here.

With his too-long hair and too-baggy sleeves billowing in the breeze, Katu was arguing, "But Her Majesty's advisers are leading her astray! She never changed them after her father died, did she? If flinging soldiers at the Wilds didn't work then, why would it work now?"

A good two-thirds of the white-haired, hunchbacked humans were drowsing in the sunshine or poking elephant chess pieces around on their gameboards. The last third was wide awake – and angry. I really needed to add "survival skills" to Katu's repertoire.

An old granny with stringy hair raised her cane and poked him in the chest. "Young man, don't spout nonsense about things thou understand'st not. Thou'rt far too young to remember the Battle of Dragon Fruit Peak."

(Dragon fruit?)

Katu puffed up in indignation. "Granny Wen, we studied it in school, and it was – "

A wizened old gran'pa leaned forward, bracing his palms on his bony knees. "And did thy teacher not tell thee about King Jullius' glorious victory? Ha, I knew it! O, 'education' these days! Back when I was in school, we memorized our textbooks word for word. We were beaten for every wrong answer we gave too! It was 'Spare the rod, spoil the child.' None of this 'spare the rod' only rubbish."

One of his friends opened his eyes a slit and cackled. "Hee hee hee, thou'd know about the rod, wouldn't thou?"

And, forgetting all about the Glorious Battle of Dragon Fruit Peak, they started swapping tales about long-ago school days when they were always getting beaten, both in school and at home. Katu set his jaw and attempted to slide in half-sentences but had very little success, especially when the rest of the grannies and gran'pas woke up and started reminiscing about their courting days.

"Hee hee hee, and thou snuck into Old Man Acinus' orchard to steal lychees, didn't thou? Oh, thy face when he caught you! Hee hee hee!"

"It worked," an old man defended himself. "She went with me to see the princess-of-the-night flowers."

"Right, right, that's what you two did all night – waited for the flowers to open...."

"And she didn't marry thee in the end, did she? Dumped thee real good. Hee hee hee."

"I was the one who dumped her, remember? Thou'rt getting addle-brained."

Meanwhile, they'd completely forgotten about poor Katu, who stood with his arms dangling at his sides, shifting from foot to foot. It was as good a time as any to go rescue him, I supposed.

Landing on his shoulder, I whispered into his ear (not that I was worried about the old people overhearing me), Come, Len Katulus. We must discuss our plans.