Dewey Lambdin - A Jester’s Fortune

"Yer bein' exasperatin' again, Lewrie." Rodgers all but wept.

"Just pointing out the consequences, sir." Lewrie shrugged, daring to let a "sympathetic" grin tweak his mouth, elevate his brow.

"Damn yer eyes, Lewrie. Just damn yer eyes," Rodgers sighed.

"Very good, sir!"

"Vahl, ahz you heff learn-ed," Leutnant Kolodzcy drawled, seated in one of Rodgers's armchairs, legs primly crossed at the knees, idly holding a slim Spanish cigarillo in one hand and a tall flute of Capt. Rodgers's best champagne in the other, "dere are many pirade bants on de Balgan goast, chentlemen."

He just say "Balgan ghost"? Lewrie asked himself, head over in perplexity as he tried to decypher Kolodzcy's extremely tortured English. Oh! Balkan coast! Pirate-bloody-bants.. bands! Gawd…!

"Aye, we've encountered some," Rodgers allowed.

"Ja!" Kolodzcy exclaimed, somewhat like the "Yipp!" an excited lap-dog might make. He paused to take a dainty sip of champagne, then. curl his left wrist inward for a puff of cigar smoke. He threw back his head to shoot smoke at the overhead, and then shot his cuff to return the cigarillo to "Run-in, Load" position. It was most elegantly, though foppishly done.

"Though mine family ist frohm de easz… Transylwania… 'Ungar-ian, do you see?" Kolodzcy languidly explained, "I am many yahrs upon de Balgan goast, and am knowink it guite intimadely, sirs. Unt I dell you now, chentlemen, dat dhere are only vahry few pirade bants awailable to you."

"Beg pardon?" Rodgers said, having to ask for a repeat before he grasped all that Kolodzcy had lisped out. "And why is that, sir?"

"Herr Kapitan Rodgers," Kolodzcy simpered, as one might to the dimmest student in the class, "for de vahry gute reason dat dere are few who heff need of you, in de firsd blace. Gonzidder…"

Don't know I care to 'gonzidder'! Lewrie thought, trying to not cackle out loud. This Leutnant Kolodzcy was better than an entre-acte at a Drury Lane theatre! Surely he was a poseur, a clown!

"De Uscocchi, de Croatians, sir," Kolodzcy droned on, puffing on his cigarillo with all the panache of a lady hard at it with her fan. "Allied vit de 'Ungarians, already. You abbroach Croatian pirades in 'Ungarian ser-wice, you inwolve 'Ungary. A formal, overt alliance, vich I do nod think your Kapitan Charlton vishes? Anyway, Uscocchi are all promised to Vienna… not awailable, nicht wahr? Gonzidder alzo Corsairs ohf Dul-cigno. Vahry strong, vit no need ohf your arms or assistance. To use them, inwolves gountry vich is neutral. Nod much of a gountry, bud a gountry even zo. Ach… mine glass ist empty." Leutnant Kolodzcy pouted of a sudden.

Rodgers flicked his eyes at his cabin-servant, who sprang to pour Kolodzcy another bumper into the glass which the fellow held out side-wise, without looking. He busied himself with his tobacco, shooting another "broadside" towards the sky-lights of the coach-top.

"Zo alzo, sirs, ist Ragusa de neutral gountry, nicht wahr?" Lt. Kolodzcy smirked, as though it was he who was senior aboard, not them. "Ewen a temporary alliance musd be formal, public? Unt you vish…?"

"Sub rosa, completely, Lieutenant Kolodzcy," Rodgers said with a conspiratorial air. "We wish a most informal, ermmm…"

"Unt I am given to unterstand dhat your Kapitan Charlton vishes to strike de bargain only vit a… Christian bant, sirs? No Muslims?" Kolodzcy enquired, rolling his eyes as Lewrie and Rodgers wished they could have, the first time they heard it said. Leutnant Kolodzcy turned the tiniest cock of a brow, the least lift of a corner of his mouth into a gargantuan sneer, and let loose a restrained, gentlemanly howl of laughter, "Unglaiiblich! Dat ist to be sayink.. incredible!"

"Quite adamant about it," Lewrie assured him with a droll roll of his own eyes. "No bloodthirsty pagans or heathens."

"A grade piddy, Herr Lewrie," Kolodzcy sighed. "De Muslims are grade fighters, though they heff liddle knowledge ohf de sea. Zose few on de goast vit boats? Nein, to use dhem vould brink notice unt vould mean grade trouble vit de Oddoman Durks."

Christ, "Oddoman Durks"? Lewrie silently whimpered, thinking he would have to put a fist in his mouth to stifle himself!

"A local pasha who vish to make de quick profit might, berhaps," Kolodzcy schemed, furrowing his serenely unruffled brow for the first time. "Rud, vhen Sultan in Constantinople learn ohf dis, dhen dhere ist slaughter. He sends army to punish any pasha or province vich is armed by you, thinkmk of rebelling, later? Ja, a grade piddy, sirs… you use Muslim pirades for a few veeks or months only, dhen inform Sultan, who sends army to crush dhem. Problem of alliance is solved. Problem of deniability, alzo. No blut on British hands for de vorld to see.. simply renegade locals. Never allied vit Royal Navy, you see?"

Kolodzcy smiled at them, nigh angelically.

"So Muslims might be best, after all, in spite of what Captain Charlton wished?" Rodgers frowned. "Perhaps one of those provinces already broken away… Albanians, Montenegrans? Greeks?"

"Greeks, no," Leutnant Kolodzcy dismissed airily, pointing his ciga-rillo at Rodgers like a tutors ferrule. "Too terrorised by de Sultan's troops, on goast especially. Inland, Durks nod as strong, bud no use to you, dhose inland Greeks, who are still Orthodox Christian. Greeks on goast heff few boats. You arm dhem, train dhem, dhey organise into fighters who could rebel, once you are done vit dhem. Dhen de Sultan or one ohf his pashas hess to crush dhem. Make de blut bad."

"Sorry… didn't get that last bit," Rodgers enqired, shaking his head as if to clear stuffy ears. "You said…?"

"De blut bad" Kolodzcy repeated. "Blut bad. Blut bad!" he insisted, all but stamping a dainty foot, sure he was making sense.

"A blood bath I think he means, sir," Lewrie offered.

"Ja!" Kolodzcy yipped. "Egzagdly… blut bad."

"Ah," Rodgers sighed, a lot less hopefully. "Quite."

"Whole prowince, nod chust one willage," Kolodzcy expounded. "Unt long before you are done vit dhem. Gomplete massacre."

"So," Lewrie posed after a painfully long silence, broken only by the sigh of more cigar smoke being jetted aloft, "just who does it leave us, then, Lieutenant Kolodzcy?"

Kolodzcy swung his right hand out, idly shook his empty glass, looking at Lewrie in silence. Griggs stepped up to refill him.

"You do nod vish de already strong," Kolodzcy lectured, after a refreshing sip. "Dhey are allied already, or heff no use for vhat you offer. You gannot employ existink gountries, for your Kapitan Charlton ist vishing anonymity unt deniability goncernink ties to pirades. Nor can you use Muslims or Durkish subjects. Dhey might be slaughdered before you could train dhem. No… de only people who come to mind… de only warlike Christians, who heff exberience ohf de sea, are Serbs. De Serbians. Ja, genauische!"

Powder-Yeoman Rahl says that! Lewrie exulted; damme, I can get that bit of German! He said exactlyl

"Serbians, chentlemen," Kolodzcy echoed, sounding enthused for once, all but smiting his forehead for being remiss in not considering them earlier. "De Balgan goast ist hodgepodge. Ja, hodgepodge? Gute. Croatian, Muslim, callink dhemselves Bosnian or Herzegovinan. Inland are Serbians, bud dhey are alzo scaddered among de odders unt along de goast. Eine Slavic people, Eastern Orthodox Christian people, gradely outnumbered. Dhey heff resisted conwersion by de Durks for centuries! Grade warriors alzo, who fight forever to win dheir independence from de Durks. Bud, nod heffink numbers or weapons. Fisherman… sailors unt zometimes pirades. Small boats only, bud dhey could sail larger, vit your help, unt vit your arms unt gaptured ships. Dhey gontrol some ohf de smaller offshore islands, alzo!"