Pyramids

had been jockeying for top position. He nodded.
    “No, we’re not. We just prefer to, er, avoid paperwork wherever possible. You know? We don’t like people to have all the worry of having to know everything we do.”
    “Only there’s all the clothes—”
    “Ah. We get attacked by pirates a fair amount. That’s why father had the Unnamed built. It always surprises them. And the whole thing is morally sound. We get their ship, their booty, and any prisoners they may have get rescued and given a ride home at competitive rates.”
    “What do you do with the pirates?”
    Chidder glanced at Alfonz.
    “That depends on future employment prospects,” he said. “Father always says that a man down on his luck should be offered a helping hand. On terms, that is. How’s the king business?”
    Teppic told him. Chidder listened intently, swilling the wine around in his glass.
    “So that’s it,” he said at last. “We heard there was going to be a war. That’s why we’re sailing tonight.”
    “I don’t blame you,” said Teppic.
    “No, I mean to get the trade organized. With both sides, naturally, because we’re strictly impartial. The weapons produced on this continent are really quite shocking. Downright dangerous. You should come with us, too. You’re a very valuable person.”
    “Never felt more valueless than right now,” said Teppic despondently.
    Chidder looked at him in amazement.
    “But you’re a king!” he said.
    “Well, yes, but—”
    “Of a country which technically still exists, but isn’t actually reachable by mortal man?”
    “Sadly so.”
    “And you can pass laws about, well, currency and taxation, yes?”
    “I suppose so, but—”
    “And you don’t think you’re valuable? Good grief, Tep, our accountants can probably think up fifty different ways to…well, my hands go damp just to think about it. Father will probably ask to move our head office there, for a start.”
    “Chidder, I explained. You know it. No one can get in,” said Teppic.
    “That doesn’t matter.”
    “ Doesn’t matter ?”
    “No, because we’ll just make Ankh our main branch office and pay our taxes in wherever the place is. All we need is an official address in, I don’t know, the Avenue of the Pyramids or something. Take my tip and don’t give in on anything until father gives you a seat on the board. You’re royal, anyway, that’s always impressive…”
    Chidder chattered on. Teppic felt his clothes growing hotter.
    So this was it. You lost your kingdom, and then it was worth more because it was a tax haven, and you took a seat on the board, whatever that was, and that made it all right.
    Ptraci defused the situation by grabbing Alfonz’s arm as he was serving the pheasant.
    “The Congress of The Friendly Dog and the Two Small Biscuits!” she exclaimed, examining the intricate tattoo. “You hardly ever see that these days. Isn’t it well done? You can even make out the yogurt.”
    Alfonz froze, and then blushed. Watching the glow spread across the great scarred head was like watching sunrise over a mountain range.
    “What’s the one on your other arm?”
    Alfonz, who looked as though his past jobs had included being a battering ram, murmured something and, very shyly, showed her his forearm.
    “‘S’not really suitable for ladies,” he whispered.
    Ptraci brushed aside the wiry hair like a keen explorer, while Chidder stared at her with his mouth hanging open.
    “Oh, I know that one,” she said dismissively. “That’s out of 130 Days of Pseudopolis . It’s physically impossible.” She let go of the arm, and turned back to her meal. After a moment she looked up at Teppic and Chidder.
    “Don’t mind me,” she said brightly. “Do go on.”
    “Alfonz, please go and put a proper shirt on,” said Chidder, hoarsely.
    Alfonz backed away, staring at his arm.
    “Er. What was I, er, saying?” said Chidder. “Sorry. Lost the thread. Er. Have some more wine, Tep?”
    Ptraci didn’t just derail the train of thought, she ripped up the rails, burned the stations and melted the bridges for scrap. And so the dinner trailed off into beef pie, fresh peaches, crystallized sea urchins and desultory small talk about the good old days at the Guild. They had been three months ago. It seemed like a lifetime. Three months in the Old Kingdom was a lifetime.
    After some time Ptraci yawned and went to her cabin, leaving the two of them alone with a fresh bottle of wine. Chidder watched her go in