Popov.

Popov Ch5 Death Defying

Chapter 5 Death Defying

The leather topped desk gleamed from the polishing it had received. Popov brushed a single mote away with his elbow and smiled. He picked up the ostrich feather duster from the client’s chair and hummed as he tickled it around the shelves of books that lined Death’s study.

Creaking hall floorboards alerted him to Death’s return and Popov whipped open the door before Death had a chance to turn the white knob.

            ‘Your imperiousness, so good to have you home, safe and sound. I trust you found the Lord in good health?’ Popov bowed. Death glanced at him with scorn. He placed his scythe in the umbrella stand by the door.

            ‘Being an immortal and impervious to the ailments that afflict mankind, how else would I find him?’ Death sat down behind his desk. ‘He was, however, a little troubled that out of all the cosmos one human soul could occupy so much of his time.’

            ‘You don’t say O nocturnal one. Cup of honey and camomile tea?’ Popov began backing out of the door.

            ‘Stop. Popov have you dusted in here?’ Death looked with suspicion at the desktop and sniffed. ‘And polished?’

            ‘I’m just trying to do my share of the household chores, Bellwether. Wonderful product, that spray polish, this one’s a ‘hint of spring’, it tastes much better than beeswax. I’ll go and fetch that tea for you Colonel.’ Popov tried to pull the door shut.

            ‘Come back in here.’ Death’s voice was firm and head down Popov re-entered the room.

            ‘Patroni?’ He asked with an innocent tone.

            ‘Wasn’t there something on my desk when I went out?’

            ‘I don’t like to criticise master, but since you mention it there was quite a lot of dust. My wife would have had a fit if ever she had seen it. The bottom layer even had ‘clean me July 1642’ written in it. Still, all sparkly, sparkly now. I’ll go and -’

            ‘No Popov, not dust, I mean something else, something like a soul’s hour glass?’

            ‘An hour glass investigative one? No, nope, I don’t recall seeing an hour glass on the desk.’ He started to back out of the door.

            ‘Where do you recall seeing it then Popov?’

            ‘I don’t know that I -’ Popov caught sight of Death’s stern expression. ‘Now, wait, since you mention it I think do remember seeing one on the floor, sire.’

            ‘How did it get on the floor Popov?’ the voice was stern.

            ‘Well now your grace I can’t say.’

            ‘And why not?’

            ‘Did your meeting with the Lord go well?’

‘Popov -’

‘I escorted three souls safely to arrivals in your absence omnipotence.’

‘Popov -’

‘Two of them made quite a fuss about it but I managed the situation.’

‘Popov -’

‘Oh, alright, alright. I knocked it off the desk and it broke, there, happy now? My but that purple sand of fate can sure get everywhere. I think I might put in a request for tighter elasticised underpants soon. It’s a good job I was wearing sandals that’s all I can say.’