"So Bobbers, how are things?"
"Oh, very well, sir - a touch slow since the departure of Lord Faust, but I have kept myself busy repairing the tower. At your behest, no expense has been spared. I trust you found your chambers in good order?"
"No complaints. You have steered clear of the drink, I trust?"
Bobbers chuckled politely, "Absolutely, sir. But of course ..." And here his gaze lowered in a humbleness I approve, "L-Lord Faust insisted I partake of some bizarre concoction he dreamed up one evening. We were both possessed by powerful spirits that corrupted our senses and abandoned us to dark fantasies! Math have mercy!"
"Never fear. You have exonerated yourself, my good man. You did the right thing twice: first by obeying Faust, and second by confessing your sins to me. In this you have proven yourself twice loyal. And now, " I brushed aside his confession for more pressing matters, "If you'll accompany me to the holding cells?" Bobbers nodded and grabbed a torch off the wall and we trudged downstairs. At present the cell was empty, and yet even here Bobbers had proven his worth as I gazed into the dimly lit chamber with my keen elvish eyes. Nary a cobweb or speck of dust could I find, and the air was fresh with a hint of lemon. It would seem even my future prisoners would be receiving Bobbers' utmost care. I reached carefully into a hidden pocket inside my cloak and pulled out an harmless looking bird.
"Some sort of sparrow, m'lord?"
"A rock swallow, I am told. They are quite common in Africa and can be seen in cities and wilderness alike. It seemed the perfect choice for transformation."
"uhhh ... transformation, m'lord?"
I spared Bobbers a disarming grin as I placed the bird on the cell floor and stepped back into the corridor, slamming the door shut so we could observe through the tiny, barred window. "Bobbers, you are about to meet a very special creature who shall serve us as pet. Are you ready?" Bobbers nodded without taking his eyes off the bird. I waved by hands in the air, recited the incantation and presto! The swallow reverted to its old self: A rather ugly, altogether nasty canine with dripping yellow fangs and four, crazy eyes. Four eyes. Two heads. Bobbers gasped, caught the dog's attention and shrieked when it leaped at him and began furiously scratching at the door that separated the two. "Bobbers, meet Clifford, my big, two-headed, psycho dog."
"Gods of all creation, what a hideous beast! I pity any man forced to be in the same room as him!"
Poor Bobbers, no sense easing him into this one. "Yes, well, congratulations, Bobbers. I expect him to be domesticated by the time I return from my next adventure." The look on his face was indescribable.
"Surely, not me, m'lord! I'm a butler, not an animal handler!"
"As you say, Bobbers. You are the steward of this household. If you think this beast is out of your jurisdiction, then by all means find a trainer. But when I return, he will answer to my commands, or you and Clifford just may share bedchambers henceforth!"
"Yes, m'lord! As you say, m'lord!"
Ahhhhh, obedience: it is the tonic to years of ridicule. And now, I must dictate a letter of special interest to Zanzibar. I may have found a faster route to India which will save him months of travel. But how will he react when I tell him that he is as much from the far West as from the East?
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