2006-08-13 - 11:55 p.m.
And they waited.
King Shahryar and Scheherazade and the ghosts of Shahryar's previous wives. The pilgrims, who had been on route to Canterbury were now, at least, not all being held against their will. The sage, the one who provided the most satisfactory dream interpretations of any sage in the Khazar empire, twice already had proven his worth. And everyone was relieved to see that Sinbad and all one hundred and six of the outlaws of the marsh were getting along. It would be good if the same could be said for the Kappa and the Caladrius, but no one could have anticipated that altercation. The Caladrius was still pouting, high in a tree. (An efficacious decotion of hemlock, myrrh, pennyroyal, and such things was being prepared to woo it down.) And the Welsh Dragon had agreed to take care of the Kappa, last seen pacing back and forth amongst the still-clear shadows of buildings destroyed by Heraclitus' Russian forces five centuries ago.
Marriage was going to suit them just fine...
