“Give me some more wine,” said Juss, “and fill again a beaker for Mivarsh Faz. I do love nought so much as tale-telling a-nights. With whom devised he against Zeldornius?”
Mivarsh answered, “With another devil from beyond seas; I have forgot his name.”
“Drink and remember,” said Juss; “or if ’tis gone from thee, paint me his picture.”
“He hath about my bigness,” said Mivarsh, that was little of stature. “His eyes be bright, and he somewhat favoureth this one,” pointing at Spitfire, “though belike he hath not all so fierce a face. He is lean-faced and dark of skin. He goeth in black iron.”
“Is he Jalcanaius Fostus?” asked Juss.
And Mivarsh answered, “Ay.”
“There’s musk and amber in thy speech,” said Juss. “I must have more of it. What mean they to do?”
“This,” said Mivarsh: “As I sat listening in the dark without their tent, it was made absolute that this Jalcanaius had been deceived in supposing that another devil transmarine, whom men call Helteranius, had been minded to do treacherously against him; whereas, as the bald devil made him believe, ’twas no such thing. And so it was concluded that Jalcanaius should send riders after Helteranius to make peace between them, and that they two should forthwith join to kill Zeldornius, one falling on him in the front and the other in the rear.”
“So ’tis come to this?” said Spitfire.
“And when they have Zeldornius slain,” said Mivarsh, “then must they help this bald-pate in his undertakings.”