Sure enough, it was the Big Banjo, sitting in a chair. His back was straight as a ramrod. He was watching the Grump play with that hawk-faced intensity which would make him stand out in any crowd even if you didn’t know who he was.
“The Fallen Woman’s with him,” whispered Olga. She almost sounded awestruck. “I’ve always wanted to meet her. But, you know, she hardly ever leaves their villa.”
Soon enough, the music ended. The Sister approached the group.
“Pardon me, Hildegard,” she said. “I hate to interrupt, but Greyboar’s here.”
“So soon?” came a voice clear as a chime. A figure arose.
I’d been so surprised to see the Big Banjo that I hadn’t really looked at any of the other occupants of the room. But now my attention was drawn completely to the woman who was advancing toward us, smiling broadly, her hands outstretched in a gesture of warm welcome.
Quite a striking woman she would have been, anyway, what with her beautiful white hair and a face that positively radiated intelligence. She wore a very nice outfit, too, much like the other Sisters but with a certain elegance of the cut that was quite noticeable.
But mainly, it was her size. She was at least seven and a half feet tall! I realized then that I hadn’t noticed her sitting down because I’d assumed she’d been standing.
She wasn’t built along the same lines as Greyboar—none of his obscene massiveness, you’ll understand—but she still seemed to dwarf him, stooping over and clasping him like he was her long-lost brother. And when she got to me—well!
The damned woman picked me up! Like I was some kind of toddler! There I was, held up in her huge hands, while she inspected me.
“And this must be Ignace! Why, he’s such a sweet-looking little cherub of a man! All those freckles! Doesn’t look at all like the evil imp Gwendolyn described.”
Right then, alarm bells started going off in my head. I knew it! I knew it! I knew there was something fishy about this job!
We’d been suckered!
Not fair!
Chapter 12.
The Trouble With Sisters
“Gwendolyn?” asked Greyboar, his jaw sagging. “My sister?”
The Abbess looked at him. “Of course, Gwendolyn. How else would I have gotten your name and address?” She frowned. “Surely you don’t think I keep a list of the world’s great chokesters in my study? After all! I am the Abbess of the Sisters of Tranquility.”
“Gwendolyn?” he repeated. “My sister?” His jaw was now down to his chest.
The Abbess’ frown grew deeper. “Oh, dear,” she said, “Gwendolyn told me you were a stupid jackass. But I just thought she was being harsh and unforgiving, like she usually is. I didn’t realize she meant you were actually retarded.”
Greyboar’s jaw snapped shut. He glowered.
“That dirty, rotten—” He stopped, but the glower didn’t.
“Oh, what a relief,” sighed the Abbess. “It would have been difficult, the job ahead, with a moron for a chokester.”
Time for the agent to take center stage. “And just exactly what is this job you—”
But she cut me off with a gesture. “Oh, not tonight! Tomorrow we’ll have plenty of time to discuss the job. Actually, we’ll need most of the day to get everything prepared. We really weren’t expecting you so soon. But no business tonight! Tonight is for music.”
Her gaze now moved to Olga Frissault, who was listening to the music with rapt attention. “I’m afraid I’ve not been introduced to your companions,” the Abbess said pleasantly.
Greyboar and I both flushed. Well, he did. So I can only assume that I did also, since my skin is about as fair as any redhead’s ever gets.
“Sorry,” I muttered. Then, I hesitated. On the outs or not, the Abbess was still part of the Church. I wasn’t at all sure how she was going to react to the presence of outright heretics—especially Joeists!—even if Olga had insisted that there wouldn’t be any problems.
As it happened, Olga herself took the plunge.
“I’m Olga Frissault, and these are my daughters,” she announced quietly. “I’m the widow of—”
“Dreadful!” exclaimed the Abbess. “Absolutely dreadful!” She reared up to her full towering height, glaring furiously. I braced myself for a ruckus.
“Bad enough the Inquisition should treat anyone in that manner!” the Abbess snapped. “But to have done so to one of Grotum’s greatest artists! Dreadful!”
A moment later she was giving Olga that giantess embrace. Then, the girls. As huge as she was, Hildegard managed to hug all three of them in one swoop.