Masque

Chapter 7/Part 2

Shuffling behind Fasili's confident hip-sway, nobody paid any attention to Prospero. Or perhaps he didn't notice because he was too busy staring, himself.

"This way, Your Grace," The Vizier scoffed, punctuating the direction with a bounce of his left hip.

Prospero lifted his eyes from their resting place. They had stopped at a gleaming gold-leafed door of a coffeehouse. Citizens in Paja had more wealth but no more taste than those on the waterfront, and the man singing an off-key bawdy tune while rolling in a gutter suggested they had no more decorum either.

"We run a legal operation here, Your Grace, but I cannot let you in," said the beady-eyed doorman. Though no larger than standard Khasi, he had an unsettling turn in his smile that suggested he had his ways of keeping the peace. "You will make our patrons...uncomfortable."

"He's royalty. If he wants to go in and shut you down because he doesn't like your tablecloths, that's entirely within his power," Fasili sneered, resistant to the man's lack of charm.

"I promise I'll set my expectations low and tolerate whatever furnishings you have," Prospero said with a leer at the gaudy door.

"He's even dressed the part to show how tolerant he can be of poor taste."

"It is not the furnishings I'm concerned about, Your Grace," sneered the doorman.

"I know what goes on inside already. If I wanted to shut down businesses like yours, I would do so. However, if I see inside and it is all legal, and your patrons lives are clearly enriched by the experiences you offer, perhaps I will become more accepting."

Cecilia pushed through and held her lucky bag of mangala shells aloft. The man nodded and allowed her through, but blocked Prospero before he could follow.

"Raul," Fasili growled, "must I remind you that this fancy gold door wouldn't be here if it weren't for me? If the Prince was likely to blow up at the first sign of sin, I'd never bring him here."

"You're responsible for that door?" Prospero whispered in Fasili's ear.

"I earned the money for it and gave them the reputation to keep it."

"You're no more welcome here than him. You're too old to dance but you still cause trouble everywhere you go."

"I can dance as well as I ever have," snapped Fasili.

"Nobody wants to see a man with a beard shake his ass unless it's on the back of a donkey on its way out of the city."

Fasili's lip stiffened, but he seemed less bothered than Prospero was by the man.

"I still have more admirers than any of your lads," he said.

"None of them would come here or bother to pay."

That insult forced Prospero's hand. He waved Ulaf forward. "Reclaim the door on Fasili Pasha's behalf, captain. And, if while taking it, you see any activity that is not permissible, send the corps in to rectify the situation. We may need reinforcements, but the palace isn't far."

"Get a full division," Ulaf said to one of his subordinates.

A sliver of metal glinted under the doorman's sleeve. A prompt kick in the knee startled him into dropping the weapon and the captain had his arms restrained before any more could take its place.

"You can't force your way in! That's corruption!" Raul wailed.

"Corruption would have been going in, as I had planned, without making a fuss about illegality," Prospero replied. "But because you insulted one of my Viziers I feel I must go ahead."