Kora,’ Uliana added, who never passed up a chance to be witty, ‘and that is to acquire the wisdom of a philosopher.’
The Gang chuckled.
‘Yes, the philosophers always overlook themselves, do they not?’ Berg agreed. ‘It is that they are modest, I think.’
The Gang chuckled again.
‘Oh goodness, are we discussing philosophy?’ Sophie complained. ‘At a party?’
‘What can we be thinking?’ Uliana agreed. ‘Let us live!’ She said this so loudly that everyone jumped and then giggled with the shock of having been so startled.
There seemed to be little more to say. Shortly after this, The Gang set out into the depths of the party to seek excitement, diversion, amusement, witty comments and even, perhaps, true love.
7:00 PM, Thursday 5 May 1544 A.F
Tagalong had now found out all that he needed to tell Jolly. Nicholas was something else, and that was what Jolly had wanted to know. He realised that he had to ditch Nicholas at the first possible opportunity. Even someone as naïve as Nicholas would wonder why Tagalong knew so few people when he had given the impression that he knew practically everybody who was here. But how could he part company with Nicholas right here and now?
‘My friends call me Tagalong,’ Tagalong said.
‘How nice for you,’ Nicholas said drily. ‘I will call you Mr Longman.’
Tagalong decided this wasn’t enough for a quarrel. His ever restless and inventive mind devised a new strategy on the spot.
‘Rule Number One: never arrive at a party on time,’ Tagalong then told Nicholas with an air of the superiority particular to “one of those who know”. Tagalong dove straight for a nearby table and acquired drinks for them both. Nicholas had barely sipped his drink before Tagalong had guzzled his down and was off for another.
He brought another drink for Nicholas, holding one in each hand, but when Nicholas shook his head Tagalong shrugged, downed one drink in three swallows and put down the empty glass. He leaned towards Nicholas and said, ‘Rule Number Two: get drunk as fast as possible.’
‘I’m learning so much from you today,’ Nicholas said with grateful admiration.
‘Don’t mention it,’ Tagalong replied graciously. He might as well have genuinely not noticed Nicholas’s sarcasm.
‘Who can you introduce me to?’ Nicholas asked, the thought crossing his mind that his only acquaintance at this party might be incapacitated before long, just as Tagalong had intended him to think.
Tagalong looked about, humming as if making a selection, but shaking his head as he said, ‘Deadly bores, come on, we can do better than this lot.’ He led Nicholas off, and before long Tagalong spotted someone that he did know. He introduced Nicholas to Mr Boris Galan before having to discreetly leave to answer a call of nature; in this way he disappeared from Nicholas’s side, with every intention of avoiding Nicholas for the remainder of the evening. As he walked around he fought the temptation to engage in petty theft. He could have loaded up his pockets easily with valuable items that would equally easily net him several thousand strada, but he knew that Jolly would disapprove so he kept his light-fingered hands in his pockets.
‘Nice party,’ Nicholas said.
‘Yes,’ Mr Galan said coldly. A friend of Tagalong’s was not a friend of Boris’s, so Mr Galan had accepted the introduction with a cold politeness born of being a gentleman.
‘Everyone’s having fun,’ Nicholas added.
‘Yes,’ Mr Galan said coldly, looking around as if about to leave.
‘It’s always a happy occasion when two people decide to get married, wouldn’t you say?’
‘Yes, will you excuse me?’ Mr Galan left swiftly without looking back.
Nicholas walked around on his own, enjoying all the sights and sounds and merriment. He decided he had drunk more than enough that day so he drank nothing but fruit juice. He also made sure to eat plenty of the food in abundant supply on so many tables all over the palace. His sobriety was returning as the food soaked up the remaining alcohol in his system. It was an interesting experience being alone and knowing nobody on such a grand occasion. The palace was enormous and full of people. No-one paid him any attention at all. He might as well have been invisible.
He came across Mr Galan again talking to two men and went up to them, deciding to pretend not to notice that Mr Galan was cold-shouldering him. He greeted Mr Galan by name and looked at Mr Galan’s companions immediately afterwards. Mr Galan hesitated, but then decided not to take the hint. Seeing this, Nicholas asked, ‘Would you be so kind as to introduce me to your friends, Mr Galan?’
Mr Galan looked for a moment as if he was about to refuse but one of the men, seeing this, headed him off by saying, ‘Yes, Boris, would you be so kind as to introduce us?’
Mr Galan reluctantly introduced Nicholas to Mr Haldor Zarek and Mr Alain Eddison. This time Nicholas’s attempts to make conversation were received by something like a response, and so Nicholas chatted cheerfully to Mr Zarek while Mr Galan and Mr Eddison silently slipped away. There were merrymakers around them still, coming and going, and while talking to Mr Zarek and looking across upon hearing a blast of laughter to one side, Nicholas saw Isabel for the first time. She was dressed in a strapless scarlet gown streaked with lapis lazuli blue, her hair piled high on her head and held together by a variety of glittering gemstone fastenings. Her large breasts jutted forward, their cleavage encased in a scarlet lacery finery. Her face was round and full like the moon, her eyes large and brown, her eyebrows arched, her lips red and lustrous, and her skin pale as snow. Nicholas felt his stomach dissolve away into nothingness as he gazed upon her. Vaguely he was aware that he was making a spectacle of himself. Vaguely he was aware of someone to one side speaking to the girl; she looked over at him, looked back at her friend; they whispered together; the girl looked at him again, raised her fan to her face so only her eyes showed. He guessed she was giggling. Then with a sudden movement she had turned and was off like a startled deer racing through the forest, her friend chasing after her, both looking back at Nicholas and visibly laughing.
Nicholas looked about to see if anyone had noticed that he had just made a fool of himself, only to find Mr Zarek looking at him with an air of amusement.
‘Who was that girl?’ he asked. ‘The one in the red and blue gown?’
Mr Zarek looked at him with what might have been the kind of sympathy that follows amusement. ‘That was Lady Isabel Grangeshield.’
‘Lady Isabel Grangeshield,’ Nicholas repeated.
Mr Zarek then looked at him with what might have been the kind of sympathy which precedes compassion. ‘Not only is she the most beautiful woman in New Landern, but she is also in possession of a fortune of fifteen million strada.’
‘She must be popular,’ Nicholas commented.
‘Indeed,’ Mr Zarek replied.
‘Can you introduce me to her?’ Nicholas asked.
‘Unfortunately I do not have the honour of the lady’s acquaintance.’
‘Then
