Free The Choir Boats by Daniel Rabuzzi Page A

.”
    Again, Salmius Nalmius sat forward, palms outstretched, fingers
touching. He shook his head, restraint in his voice. “No,” he said.
“My world depends on what I say to you. I do not jest or speak idly.”
    Nexius Dexius paced back from the window. “Not much time
today,” he said. “They are coming soon.”
    Sanford turned slowly from Salmius Nalmius to Nexius Dexius.
He thought he sensed the sound of far-off footsteps on a hollow
staircase. Outside he heard the coach horse stamp its feet, and a
brisk word from Mr. Fletcher.
    Barnabas spoke: “Here it is then: we cannot depart, not yet at
any rate, much as we recognize the need. We must defend our home.
Your proposal to take over McDoon & Associates is no more credible
today than it was on first utterance. Not so much for our sake but for
that of the market. Who would believe such a change? No, it would
not answer. McDoon & Associates would be reduced, ruined.”
    The Naxes began to protest but Barnabas continued with a wave
of his arm. “I am sorry, but that is how it must be. For now. Let
us part today as friends and continue the conversation as wit and
weather permit.”
    Nexius Dexius scowled, but Salmius Nalmius said, “So be it. As
friends.”
    A knock sounded on the outer door, and then Harris drawled up
the stairs, “Time to be afoot, gentlemen.”
    Nexius Dexius went down the stairs, taking the strange rifle
with him. Salmius Nalmius reached out to Sanford and Barnabas.
“Stay but one second longer,” he said. “I understand your choice,
though I regret it. No one knows about home more than I do, or
Nexius Dexius. Defending one’s home. Yes, we know about that. So
let us continue to help you, if we may. Take Harris and Fletcher, let
them live with you as guardians.”
    They moved down the stairs. “The Cretched Man will never
desist,” said Nexius Dexius. “You know that, don’t you?”
    At the door, Barnabas and Sanford halted. “Thank you,” said
Barnabas. “We accept your aid. Think us not ingrates. We may yet
go to Yount. Our reluctance is not because we don’t want to help
you, but because we must look first to ourselves. Send us Harris and
Fletcher, and we shall beat the Wurm on our own ground.”
    Nexius Dexius called from the mews. Sanford felt the hollow
footfalls quickening in his mind.
    “Thank you,” said Salmius Nalmius. “For this much, I thank you.
We shall speak again soon. Now, make haste, and Godspeed.”
    A minute later, the coach rattled out of the mews. A bolt of
midnight-blue seemed to course after it, but flickered and was
gone.
    The Naxes shut the door against the cold. “Another step has been
taken,” said Salmius Nalmius in his own language.
    “The wolf takes six steps while the beaver gnaws the wood,”
replied his brother.
    “This beaver has sharp teeth, you shall see, brother.”
    “Let us hope so. We will need every tooth in our heads, and all
the claws on our feet.”
    So Fletcher and Harris came to live in the house on Mincing Lane,
with its dolphin door knocker and its blue-trimmed windows. Almost
overnight the two men became part of McDoon & Associates, strange
as that seemed to Sally. Strange but welcome, she thought, as she sat
in the kitchen one evening a month later. Candlemas had passed,
and the feast of St. Polycarp, and the feast of St. Eudelme with its
procession of beribboned goats through the City. The most terrible
cold had passed, but still it was good to gather around the kitchen
stove for warmth and company. Mr. Fletcher was holding forth.
    “They found a bag of bones in the foundation stones of a building
what was took down in Lambeth to make way for the new bridge
to be built over to Westminster,” he said, pausing for effect. “Small
bones, like maybe a baby’s.”
    “Come now, Mr. Fletcher, if you please,” said the cook. “There’s
trouble enough without you going on about . . . baby’s bones.” She
imitated Mr. Fletcher’s London accent as near as her Norfolk