Teri McLaren
inside Sumifan gates until you know how to behave. You have humiliated me. Do you know I could have you flayed in the Four Most Awful Fashions for what you just did? As it is, I am in far better humor than usual. I will have you buried alive, instead," said the Fascini, his voice rising with impatience.
While the Neffian took a deep breath and began to repeat his master's words again, Cheyne shook his head, perplexed as to which was his most grievous sin: being in the way to be run over, or telling the Fascini about it. He settled on the latter, but none too surely. The Neffian shrugged his shoulders, a look of concern replacing his careful blankness. Cheyne decided at that point that the Fascini was serious about the burying alive part. Cheyne was about to leap the guard rail and try to disappear into the Barca when he heard his reprieve.
"Maceo, he could not have known he spoke to the royal heir of Sumifa. You have just been announced as king this afternoon. He has done nothing to warrant death." A small voice, raw with strain, pleaded with the Fascini.
Maceo shot the curtain across its rod, leaving Cheyne straining to hear the fervent conversation within. The Neffian stared ahead again, unblinking until he and the others simultaneously lifted the chair, as if they had heard an order Cheyne could not. But Maceo had the last word.
"Nameless idiot! Unknown fool! Today the woman saves your worthless life. When I am installed as king, if you dare to tread these streets, you shall pay for this insult," the Fascini shouted as the chair swerved onto the thoroughfare, a red ribbon falling from the woman's side of the chair.
The next set of gates loomed just before him and Cheyne slowly walked toward them, soon losing sight of the sedan as the Neffians rounded a curve in the highway, then turned off abruptly, heading, strangely, Cheyne thought, toward the worst part of the Barca.