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.Repatriated	By : keithcompany Category: Titles in the Public Domain > Gulliver's Travels Views: 3308 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: This is a work fiction, based on Gullivers Travels by Jonathan Swift.

Chapter List
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Ted took only token bites of the feast, just to be polite. He didn't want to offend their hosts by stripping their food sources.
A shaman of the tribe offered a secret tribal adhesive for his patching effort when it was explained. Ted found it a bit more effective than the aged glue he was using, but not perfect.
Jussifer attempted to locate the island in the greater Lilliput Archipelago. When the King understood that the big hulking giant and his big hulking appetite wanted to move to a different island, he offered several fine choices. Juss and Hort set themselves to filtering out the exaggeration and planning the rest of the trip.
So they advanced towards Lilliput in easy stages. Ted never quite trusted the raft for long hauls, so he mostly towed it while wading or swimming towards the next island.
The women borrowed a small canoe and kept pace with his head, training him in the Fuscan tongue as they traveled. They took turns, two rowing and one teaching.
In addition to the language, which he took up quickly and easily, the Duchess taught him courtly etiquette, people to recognize and the way to speak to them.
The Esquire taught him the court from behind the scenes. She explained the intrigues and treaties, the backstabbing and allies, giving him a picture of the dynamics of the court he'd certainly be invited to join.
The Officer taught him the court's underbelly. Who was loyal to whom, where certain monies came from or went, who was bent and in which direction.
At nights, they attended a welcome feast from yet another tribe cheerfully speeding them to the next island; or they napped on the beach of a deserted island.
They spent one night in the raft, carefully lodged atop a sand bar that lay just under the surface at high tide.
If they had privacy, they'd role play events in the courtly setting, preparing the Englishman. He often took great fun with the three sources.
"And then, the Marquham Fundeelsigo offers you the comforts of his estate," Hortesnaed might pretend.
"Fundeels.... His estate is prostitution? I could use the comforts of-"
"His ESTATE is the greater part of Mount Ilfstendada outside the capitol," she would correct him, stamping a foot down on his breastbone. "With a lake that even thee might take a pleasurable bath in!"
"Oh," he would say, obviously penitent. "Fundeels' demanded bribe is prostitution. Must remember that."
"Ritchaskka! You've ruined this man!"
"As 'this man' has said a time or two, the truth hurts."
"True that," Jussifer would add. "And you're still wrong, man-mountain. His bribe is jewelry, fit for a woman. Because his passion is prostitution."
"Ah. Thanks, Juss."
"But enough of this paean to the offices of the grand scheme of oppression! Tell us more of this, what was it? Representation in proportion?"
"Proportional representation."
"No politics!"
"Everything is politics."
"Dinner isn't politics!"
"Dinner?"
"It does seem to be time for a meal, doesn't it?"
"I....could eat."
It was following just such a discussion when His Majesty's Heavy Cruiser The Estanta, following rumors of a giant creature in the outer reaches, came upon their camp.
The landing party came to the beach and stalked through the trees to find the bonfire the lookouts had spied as they sailed past. Captain Haskoughdell had sent two boats to investigate, Lieutenant Pitssbrellt commanded.
The lieutenant wanted to send a few stealthy men ahead, but he also knew better than to issue orders that might not be obeyed.
Tales of the monster varied. Tradesmen with regular contact spoke of a creature the size of a volcano, able to shoot fire from his hands and eyes.
Or it was a volcano, carrying its own mountain around the islands in a slow migration, tarrying here and there until the entire population was enslaved or had risen up to drive the creature out.
The mouth was big enough to eat three villagers whole, though it was unclear if this had been demonstrated or just estimated.
It also had traits of a sea monster, rising from the deeps to come ashore and eat everything alive. The merchants could not explain how anyone survived to tell this particular tale.
But all the men had heard all the stories. The officer had even overheard a few men on the night watch discussing the ten dicks the creature sported and the village-wide raping it conducted during the full moon.
The only thing everyone agreed on was that the path of its travels was pointed directly at Lilliput itself. That sparked the Admiralty's interest, and four ships were sent to find the big, terrible, possibly man-eating creature that may or may not have magical powers.
So it was about the only time he'd had no trouble keeping the men together on a scouting mission. He shook his head as another elbow grazed his ribs. Be careful what you ask the Egg for, he thought...
Someone ahead hissed for silence and the entire party dropped to their knees. No one moved or explained the noise.
Pittsbrellt swore under his breath and crept forward, pushing men gently to the side as he progressed.
--------
"Should we teach him appropriate swears?" Juss asked. She sat on an emptied food can, turned over to make a low, wide bench.
They'd eaten the tuna within and Ted had scoured the can. When they broke camp, it'd be placed carefully in one of his sacks. The metal made a fine gift to the villagers they met, either as a big pot or something they could work into tools.
"No," Ritch replied. "He'll swear more comfortably in Englishman. Then there'll be a court fashion to use his words." She finished drying their eating bowls and sat down by Juss.
"Then," Hort added, "there'll be fine nobles purposefully stubbing their toes in the Palace so that they might exclaim 'Zuck!' and 'Demmit!' so everyone knows how fashionable they are."
Ted laughed at her imitation of his exclamations. Even pitched as low as she might go, her voice squeaked in pretend indignation. "Some day I'll have to tell you guys what those words mean."
Ritch immediately identified two vulgarities of a sexual nature, three that dealt with unseemly bodily functions and two she suspected were of a religious nature.
Ted laughed again. The noise carried easily to the trees, causing the landing party to retreat four steps, eyes wide.
"But enough about court," Hort said. "You're going to have to organize your household."
"Household?"
"Yes. Since the Gulliver left, lands have been set aside for the convenience of the next Englishman." She raised a hand to forestall his usual protest. "Yeah, yeah, yeah," she said, imitating him once more.
"But while there are people that maintain the holdings, you need a seneschal, a secretary, a wife, a mistress-"
"A wife and a mistress?" he asked. "Isn't that... Wrong?"
The women shared a look and laughed. "It's how it's done, Twed," Juss said. "You need a wife to present at court functions and to host your events."
"And a mistress," Ritch told him, "to see to your private needs." He snorted. "Men," she said, rolling her eyes. "I mean, to entertain you, to be someone you can talk to, to concentrate on you where your wife is concentrating on your position."
"Okay," he said slowly.
"And for THOSE needs," Juss giggled, "you get concubines."
"A heh," the giant dry-panned. "So. Don't take this wrong, but just so I understand, can I hire any of you for any of those positions?"
"With Jussifer's mysterious past," Hort said, "she could never be anything higher than concubine." Juss nodded agreeably.
"And as a Duchess," Ritch said, "my Lady could never be lower than a wife."
"And Ritchaskka would make a wonderful secretary, if you were a giant woman," Juss told him, "but she'd make a tolerable mistress."
"I would not!" Ritch complained. "I'm already the Duchess' secretary!" She glanced upwards as she continued to protest. "I can't honorably move my... Why are you looking at me like that?"
"I just realized," Ted said. "You're the only one I haven't seen naked."
"What!" She hopped up and stalked over to his knee. "I stripped in the boat! When we had our new clothes! Right at your feet!"
He looked thoughtful. "When I had seven arrows in my face? And was watching the horizon for pursuit?"
"Oh. Well." She blushed.
"Fair is fair," Jussifer said.
"You were naked because we couldn't trust you! It's not my fault he was in too much pain to see my nudity when it was available!"
"Do you hear that, sir?" the bosun whispered to the lieutenant. "Some woman's screeching! In pain, belike."
"In rape, more like," someone behind them muttered.
"Hsst!" Pitssbrellt ordered.
"Come on, Ritchie," Ted said soothingly. "If we're building a pretend household, I need information to slot you into the best possible position."
"And it is only fair," Hort teased her friend and employee. "He's seen me, he's seen Jussifer."
"Seen? He's stared at your assets. But only the top half."
Hort smiled at her aide, stood, and untucked her wrap. It slid down to the sand. She took a step, turning a bit as the giant stared.
"See?" Ritch said.
"What's the problem?" Jussifer asked. "You fell in the surf that one time. The wet wrap left almost nothing to the imagination."
"I find that I affix a great deal of comfort to the 'almost' in that statement."
"You, uh, you..." Ted tried to talk. Hort smiled and sat down beside Juss. "You, you owe me, Ritchie."
"For what? Saving my life? Our lives? You think our sexual privacy is something to be bartered upon gratitude and dependency?"
"No," he said. "I mean, I wouldn't have been shot full of arrows if I hadn't helped you get clean underwear."
"Ah," Ritchaskka said, all the wind leaving her sails. "That's a good point." She absently stroked her behind. "Oh, very well." She reached for the knot. "Be gentle?" she asked.
"And kind," he promised. She let the wrap slip. He lifted her up to his face, turning her in the light of the fire.
"Do I meet with milord's approval?" she asked.
"Quite-"
"Unhand that woman!" something squeaked at the corner of the tent. Ted looked to see ten or twelve tiny men pointing tiny crossbows at him.
He automatically closed a fist protectively around Ritch and dropped his free hand to cover Juss and Hort.
"He's raping three of them!" someone shouted.
"Who is?" Juss asked.
"Where?" Hort shouted.
"What the egg is going on out there?" Ritch screeched.
Ted gathered the women together and hid them behind his leg, safe from the crossbowmen. They immediately spilled out of his grip and rushed to get a view of them.
He didn't notice, he was facing down the intruders. "How dare you accuse me of raping the duchess! As if she'd put up with that sort of thing!"
Pitssbrellt noticed that the giant was eyeing a tree sticking half way out of the bonfire. If he threw that, they were in big trou- "Duchess?" he asked.
"My Lady Hortesnaed, Duchess of Mildendo," Ritchaskka shouted.
"And her maids!" Jussifer added. Neither Lilliputian blinked at Juss adding herself to the household. Hort was feeling generous about Juss' history at this point.
Ritch just saw no benefit in telling armed, frightened sailors there was a Blefuscan rebel in the general vicinity of her and her Lady. Things might twang.
"Gentlemen!" Hort shouted imperiously. "As a Royal Aide to the King, I order you to stand down!"
The lieutenant glanced at his men. Most of the crossbows were aimed at the giant's face, more or less. The men's eyes, though, focused on the rare sight of a nude duchess.
"Aten-HRTT!" he said in a normal order-giving voice. A shout might have startled them into letting the bolts loose. They shook themselves and stood in what was very nearly a smart order, weapons at port arms.
"Abutt-FACE!" he continued. When the eyes and the bolts were pointed in a safe direction, he had them break the weapons down. Two loosed towards the distant trees in the process.
Normally he'd have dressed them down in a manner the bosun would find impressive. But right now, he was just so damned happy no one shot the giant, the looks of shame and anxiety on their faces was satisfactory.
Introductions were made after the women had wrapped themselves back up. Hortesnaed shook every man's hand and congratulated their bravery. Ritchaskka took his name and thanked him for his restraint.
He wasn't sure if he was going to be congratulated by the King for rescuing the noblewomen, or executed for seeing them naked. Well, that was up to the Maker.
Half the party was detailed to report back to the ship, carrying word of the rescue, the discovery of the giant, an invitation to the Captain to come ashore and a warning for quarters to be prepared for a duchess.
The other half went to secure the longboat a bit higher on the shore, busy work to get them out from the looming figure.
They'd all heard of the Gulliver, but that was so long ago it was nearly myth. If he hadn't left behind the artifacts, they'd have believed him a fantasy of a bygone age.
Now he glared down at them, leaning on still-fisted hands, fuming under the accusation.
Pitss spent a lot of time worrying over his immediate future.
------------
His Majesty's Heavy Cruiser The Estanta escorted the giant home, taking a straight path over the water to the nearest Lilliputian shore.
They had room in the hold for quite a bit of his equipment, easing the load on the raft. It stayed sufficiently inflated for the last leg of their long journey.
The three women watched him from the rail, waving now and then. And talking in soft voices.
"I believe a ten minute head start would be sufficient?" Hort asked Juss.
"Ma'am?"
"Once we reach a sizeable town," Ritch explained in the manner of enlightening an idiot, "an accomplished spy should have no problem slipping away from scrutiny and making her way homewards."
"Ten would be more than sufficient," Juss said with a thankful nod. "But what of you? If I get a head start, they'll eventually ask you about where I went?"
"We'll use the story you gave us on the wreck," Hort said with a shrug. "Another victim of Fellelle and his band of thugs. Who had personal reasons not to accompany us to the Palace with the giant."
"I...would appreciate that, mistress."
"She is generous to a fault," Ritch said. Juss looked at her suspiciously, waiting for the punchline. The aide just shrugged.
The captain was loathe to stop for the night, so the cruiser took the raft into tow for the night. They set full sail and continued at about half the expected speed.
Hort scandalized the crew by announcing her intention to spend the night in the raft, but there was little anyone could do about it.
Even if they were willing to risk angering the King over the fear of impropriety, that distant threat was trumped by the giant's near presence.
The night-glass case was strapped to a rowing bench and the quartet spent their last night together.
Ritch explained Juss' full identity, which came as no surprise to Ted, and then outlined the cover story. Ted kissed Juss gently on top of her head.
"In case I don't get the chance to say goodbye later," he said softly. She wiped her eyes and kissed the tip of his nose.
---------
The raft grabbed the attention of the garrison's lookouts. By the time The Estanta entered the harbor of Pesstandula, the wharves were crowded with curious citizens, freemen and slaves.
Few had the vantage to see down into the large, ungainly craft in tow. No one had a glimpse of the head that followed it until Ted cleared the jetty.
By then, he'd started to wade up out of the water. People cheered, fainted, ran, called out the militia, called out the garrison and called out the catering industry.
The more fore-sighted of bakers and cooks and distillers hired passersby to help shift their stocks down to the docks. Someone that big was going to want to eat, especially after swimming all the way from who cares where.
Petss was detailed to secure rooms for the Duchess and her household. "Someplace with a garden," Ritch said as they walked down the gangplank.
Petts stopped walking and turned to stare at her. The non sequitor seemed to have broken his brain.
"A garden?" he asked.
"A garden, Ritch nodded.
Juss stepped beside her and pointed towards where Ted was working his way through three wagons of roasted meats. "A garden he can fit into."
"Ah. Of course," the lieutenant nodded. "We'll make every effort to-" But when he turned around, Juss was gone. The other two women waited patiently on the dock.
--------
Hortesnaed hired a cargo ship to take the bulk of Ted's property around to Mildendo. The Estanta towed the raft along the same route.
Ted carried the Duchess and Esquire overland at a gentle pace. He was capable of greater speed, but outriders were going ahead to clear the roads (and warn the King) for his passage.
The women were very impressed with Ted's care in travel. He stayed to the cleared areas and gave the escort plenty of warning if he needed some 'privacy.'
And he was very tolerant of what he kept calling the paparazzi. He wouldn't explain the word, but he did kneel down in every village, town or city to greet the local authorities.
He cheerfully answered questions and let people touch him, and lifted the braver or more foolhardy ones to the height of a roof.
But while he posed the perfect image of a gentle giant in public, his two friends could hear his teeth grind as he walked.
"You're not about to bite someone in half, are you?" Ritch asked. "Because I'd like to point out that I have an aversion to cannibals."
"It's just going so slow," he said as softly as he was able. The cavalry officer in charge of the escort looked around worriedly. "I understand," Ted assured him. "I'm not saying you should go any faster than you're sure is safe."
That worthy nodded but did chivy his men into a little greater speed.
"Well," Hort said, "I think you're wonderfully charitable. Even if you never pass this road again, the locals will be talking about you for generations."
"It's...an interesting experience," he said. "Part celebrity, part circus act." He shrugged, sending his shirt pocket swaying. But after months in waterborne craft, they hardly noticed. "And it's easy enough to be charitable."
"Why's that?" Ritch asked.
"What do you mean?" from Hort.
Ted looked around. Even between the towns there was no privacy. Aside from the cavalry detachment, people lined the roads. They thronged in towns but there were always people in the trees and shrubs and grasses.
He was pretty sure he was never even alone in the makeshift privies, but made a point of not searching out any surveillance.
"It's just," he said, switching to Englishman, "it's so hard to see any of it as real. It's more like playing a part in a fantasy, not visiting a new country."
"Ah," Hort said. She quickly translated for her aide, then turned her face up to the giant. "It's because we're all tiny enough to be toys to you." She spoke in Fuscan, knowing her voice wasn't going to carry all that far.
It allowed Ritch to participate more easily. "Like wonderfully animated dolls in a dollhouse of the countryside," she mused.
"Oh, no, no!" he protested. "You guys have been real to me since... Since you threatened to pee in my mouth."
After a moment's translation, Ritch giggled.
"No," he went on. "You two...you three were real. Which makes it all real. Fantastic, in the 'this can't be real' sense of the word, but ultimately I can't deny it's reality."
"Then what?" Hort asked.
"The nobility. Being introduced to ranks and titles, everyone wondering what rank I'll be given, asking about how many servants I'll need, how many concubines.... That's not how we live at home."
"You have a classless society?" Hort asked, shocked.
"Not hardly," he said with a laugh. "But if I was a celebrity back home, I could point to something I did, or was done to me, or I was formerly married to, and understand why I was getting to visit the Mayor and the Lord and Lady and the Grand High Mucky Muck and the Great Poobah and-"
"GREAT High Mucky Muck," the Duchess corrected. "And the GRAND Poobah."
"Ah, sorry. Anyway... Here, the big deal is just that... I'm big."
"Nonsense!" Ritch shouted when she was caught up on the conversation. "Pick me up!" Ted plucked her up and held her before his face.
"You, sir, are a bona fide HERO! To at least three people that spent nights with you. And to the king of the Azzaghummi. And to the princess who nearly got eaten by the giant crab. And to-"
"Okay, okay," he said.
"He acknowledges your point," Hort called.
"I'm not DONE!"
"Sorry."
"And you must understand, the big deal is not that you are big." He raised one eyebrow. "The deal is that you are so, so very, ZUCKING big!"
-------
The entire order of Welcomers came out of the city and from surrounding towns to meet the giant when he was about halfway across the island.
They were quite delighted with the chance to put their training and skills to use. When Ted smiled down at them and spoke in careful Englishman, they melted like schoolgirls.
But at the point of their meeting, they were still quite a distance away from the site that had been prepared for them to spend the night.
Ted shrugged, invited the ladies to crowd into one wagon. The escort detached the horses and the giant carried them to the night camp.
Each woman got to give her memorized welcome speech on the way. Hort rode with them, explaining some of the giant's idioms. Ritch tied a rope around his ear on the far side of his head and rode on his shoulder.
She teased him now and then, trying to pierce his polite shell or make him goof. He just smiled wider.
The order shared dinner that night with the Englishman giant, learning a few new words and licking up his company.
They left in the morning, giggling like fiends when he blew them a kiss goodbye.
"You really did indulge them," Ritch said.
"Thank you for putting up with some silly old-" Hort was saying when Ted picked her up out of his pocket.
"A dozen women dedicated their lives to being ready to make me feel welcome on Lilliputian shores," he said. He put a fingertip under her elbow and lifted her hand up for a kiss. "I did not put up with them. I appreciate them. I appreciate you." He kissed her once more, on her head. She beamed, blinking rapidly.
"D'aaaaaw," Ritch cooed.
"Shurrup!" Hort snapped.
"He wuv ewe," the Aide went on. "Hortesnaed and Ted Malone," she sang, "sailing on the sea." She didn't pause as Ted scooped her out with his other hand. "Rocking with the waves, now, happy as can-"
She did stop when he kissed her head, too. "Daw!" Hort mimicked. "He wuv ewe, too."
"Yes,milady," Ritch said in a subdued tone.
"Can we go, now?" the escort's officer asked.
------------
The last giant to be brought into Mildendo was shackled, a giant monster imprisoned to limit his rampages.
The King was adamant that this visit would start off on a better foot. Ted was led directly to the housing prepared for him.
"You'll have a chance for a rest," Hort explained. "And some clothes will be made for you."
"Oh, these jeans are-"
"Falling apart from overexposure," Ritch pointed out. "All we need is for you to flash the Queen when you're presented."
"So, the Duchess insisted," Hort said in regal tones, "that you comply with the plans of your hosts."
"Yes, Duchess," he replied.
The Englishman's mansion looked a bit small as they approached. His escort stopped at the gates. Ted stepped over them.
"The wall is the boundary of your property," Hort explained. The walls extended left and right, disappearing from view in the forest of the plains to the left, around the base of hills to the right.
"You have several tenants, farmers, loggers and huntsmen, providing funds. There's a minimal staff holding the place together. You'll need to hire more." He nodded.
He reached the house and paused. A wide gravel driveway had room for several guests' carriages to unload their passengers and park.
The front door was grand, about three times Ritch's height. Windows indicated six floors and a basement. The upper rooms looked luxurious, from what he could see through the glass.
"But..." He gestured towards the dollhouse door. "How do I...?"
"Back door," Hort said. He walked around. There was a door very nearly as tall as he was.
The doorknob was uncomfortably low, but he forgave the architect. The little man had obviously not had a model to work with.
He opened to find a small set of rooms. Hangar-sized to the Lilliputians, of course, it was comfortably cozy. There was a long table against the wall of the front room, with a bench as long, and a hammock across from it.
A trunk that resembled a castle sat in one corner. An open door revealed a water closet. He poked his head in. It was also a bit too low for his taste, but there were no windows. No apertures at all. So no room for spies.
"It's great," he said. "Well, could use a shower."
"Actually," Hort said slowly. He looked down at her with a lifted eyebrow. She pointed. He'd missed the door behind the bathroom door. It opened to show a long stone bathtub. After months in and out of the ocean, it looked heavenly. Except...
"Oh, I'll probably have to burn through a few trees to get enough hot water for a bath."
"The site was chosen specifically for your bath, actually," Ritch said. Hort and Ted both turned to look at the Esquire.
"I read about it in school," she said. Her face dropped. "Sorry to steal your thunder, mistress."
"No, no, go ahead," Hort invited her.
"Well, the site is famous for a natural hot spring running- EEEP!" She grabbed the hem of the pocket as Ted lunged for the faucet.
"Hot water," he said with a manic little giggle. "Hot fresh water."
"Which you cannot bathe in until you have clean clothes!" Hort shouted. His hands paused where they were lifting the hem of his shirt.
"And you can't strip until we're on the ground!" Ritch added.
"Sorry," he said. He backed out of the bath's room and sat at the table. He gently placed the women on the table.
Hort walked across the table to the wall. There was a wheel, resembling a ship's helm. Hort gave it a spin and the wall started to move.
It dropped down into the wall, revealing the interior of the rest of the house. At least, the upper three floors.
"This gives you access to all the rooms your guests and visitors will be in," Hort explained. "Without sacrificing your privacy when you want it."
He saw a ballroom, a banquet room, several smaller parlors, sitting rooms and what looked to be a game room.
"No guest quarters?"
"Those are on the second and third floor. You can't look into them for THEIR privacy. And the kitchens, the laundry, all the servants' rooms and quarters are in the basement or on the first floor."
She watched his face closely. If she was any judge of expressions, he was delighted with the arrangements. A heavy weight dropped from her shoulders.
"Well, then, stay here and relax. The Royal tailor is due in half an hour. Then the King's secretary will discuss your presentation.
"I need to go make my report," she continued. She made a beckoning motion towards her aide.
"Do you...?" Ritch was looking at the giant. The giant was looking at the door to the bath. "Do you think we should leave him alone? We are the only two people he knows."
"You wanna watch him in the bath."
"Well, he's seen ME naked. He hasn't taken those pants off since the last ones fell apart."
"Oh, alright," Hort allowed.
"Thank you, my glorious Lady," Ritch said. She kissed her employer on the cheek and ran to Ted's hand.
Hort smiled indulgently and turned towards the more naturally scaled portion of the household and the front door.
-------
Hortesnaed returned while the tailor was still there. He'd made a few wild guesses and generous estimates to bring some fresh pants and a shirt over.
Then he had survey engineers take the giant's measurements. They used visual derivations for speed and brute force for verification.
Ted lay carefully still on the floor as they ran around placing marking posts and stretching ropes.
"Now, if the engineers' measurements are close enough for these, we shan't need to put you through this again," the tailor was telling Ted when Hort walked in.
"If... Excuse me, but if you have my measurements down, why would you have to get them again?"
"Tides," the little man explained. Ted stared. "It's well known among our modern philosophers that tides wear down on men. Women also, but they're a bit smaller and the moon has less to work on.
"One such as yourself will be far more affected by the moon's attractive force."
"Ah," he said. It was the tone that Ritch and Hort had heard many times, usually when an islander had explained about their family gods, island ghosts or sea monsters.
But this was modern naturalism! He should be paying better attention.
She shrugged and worked her way down from the fourth-floor landing of the front of the house to the floor of Ted's part. He waved to her while she was resting on the second landing, but was pinned in place by ten tailor's assistants.
When she was in arm's reach he lifted her to his chest where Ritchasska was monitoring the measurements.
"My Lady?" Ritch asked. "Are you well?"
"I... Well, there's lots of news."
"Can it wait ten minutes?" Ted asked. "Once these guys are done, I'm drawing a bath. We can talk then."
"Alright," she said. There was no bright smile at the thought of seeing Ted at his bath, nor shock at the scandal of waiting on a single man in his nudity.
Ritch, now terrified, took the duchess by her upper arm. "What is it?"
"Oh... We'll wait." She wouldn't say anything more. Ritch nodded, then drove her heel into the human's bare chest.
------
A lifetime of propriety did eventually rear its head. Ted had placed the women on the stone rim and started the water. As his hands went to his waistband, Hort shrieked.
"What?"
"You can't be naked with us in the room!" She looked scandalized.
"Why?" Ted asked. "We're all grownups here."
"The scandal," Ritch explained. "There are only certain people that can see you naked without incredible harm to their reputation. Wife," she said, lifting a finger. "Mistress, butler and secretary."
"Which is why your secretary must be a man," Hort explained. "And butlers are always males."
"Oh." Ted looked thoughtful. "What if I hire you two as my secretaries?"
"I just explained-"
"And while I will respect the social traditions of my new home," he countered, "I do have some traditions I revere personally.
"A woman's ability to perform as a secretary, or aide, or administrative assistant... Hell, to perform any job. That is, to me, very important."
"Hmm," Ritch muttered, trying to digest the possibilities.
"And you two are the people I trust most in the whole island. Juss excepted, maybe."
"Oh, she's off the island by now," Ritch assured him.
"Well, anyway, can I at least ask you to be my temporary secretaries?" He glanced from their faces to the level of the bathwater. "We'll work out details later."
"As your secretaries," Hort pointed out, "the details would be our responsibility."
"Then that's worked out!" He stripped and stepped over them, sinking gratefully into the water. "Oh, that's fine. You guys want-?" He waved towards the water.
"N-n-no," Hort said. "That water looks...um. Quite crowded. As it is."
"Crowded," Ritch agreed. "Quite crowded."
There was a tin tub full of soap cakes. Ted pinched one and started to lather. "So, what's the news, Hortense?"
"Crowded," she said.
He playfully splashed a bit of water at the dumbstruck women. Then he scrambled to catch them before they were swept over the side of the bath.
"Safety rails," he was muttering, holding them gently as they sputtered and coughed. "Gotta have rails installed."
Their sodden clothes added palpable weight to their forms and their glares burned into his eyes.
"Sorry, sorry," he repeated over and over.
"Well, you- HRRAAACK-CK! -broke that mood," Ritch snarled. There would have to be some privacy shields kept near the giant's bath, and some changes of clothing. For now, she imperiously pointed down.
He lowered her to the tiles and she flopped over to a drainage ditch. Ted watched as she tried to wring out her dress, petticoats and stockings.
"Sorry," he repeated.
"It's alright," Hort assured him. "It's just a ACHOO! Topper to ACHOO! Another glorious day for AAAAAAAACHEWIE! One living in the realm."
Ritch spun around, her own difficulties forgotten. "Oh, what is it? What's happened?"
"I am no longer the Duchess of Mildendo."
Ritch gasped. Ted glanced at her reaction. He didn't understand the full import, but the Esquire wasn't into drama for the sake of drama.
"What happened?" he asked.
"I was thought dead, so the King gave the position to someone else." She shrugged.
"And you can't get it back?" he asked. She didn’t miss his glance down to where Ritch dripped. She saw it, too, and shook her head a tiny fraction.
"No, I cannot get it back. It's too complicated."
Ted upended the soap tin and let her sit upon the bottom. He also tipped a tub of bath salts down and gave Ritch a perch. "I got time," he said.
"Well, the King has a new mistress."
"Ah," Ritch said.
"Uh...?" Ted confused.
"He has chosen a married woman as his Heart Of Court," Ritch explained. Hort finally gathered up her skirt and started to wring it out as her friend spoke.
"So, to keep the husband happy, he is given a new rank, a new job, and duties that will often lead to him being out of town."
"Your old job," Ted said with a nod.
"Her old job," Ritch corrected. "And it's likely that several other people were given similar appointments, filling the new Duke's staff and aides and servants."
"A clean sweep," Hort said softly.
"Which also means," Ritch said, ostensibly speaking to the giant, but watch Hort for correction or confirmation, "that she's lost the lands and tenants and pension of the duchy of Mildendo."
Hort nodded.
"So milady is without a career, without a position at court and without the means to fork over my year's backpay."
Hort laughed at that, a short snort. Then she sobered. "I'm not destitute. I had some lands from my family before he created me the Duchess." She sniffed. "I'm the last of the Delcraftanions, so the defunct Viscountery reverted to the Crown.
"His majesty graciously restored those to me as he had not yet granted them to anyone else."
"Gracious," Ted and Ritch agreed.
"But he has made no offers to employ me, or my skills at counter intelligence, so I remain merely the Viscountess."
"Nothing like merely," Ted said. She offered him a sad smile. Water swirled below and out of sight as he thought.
"You know," he said after a moment.
Oh, great EGG! Ritch and Hort thought, he's going to propose.
Hort sighed. Why did men think that marriage was a solution to problems women had?
You've lost lands, influence, money and a career, might as well attach yourself to me. Never mind if we spend years wondering if I'd have said yes when I wasn't so desperate.
Never mind spending years suspecting someone was taking advantage. And the first time someone won a fight by indicating the other was bought and paid for....
She'd half-imagined being the Lady of Ted's house while they were afloat, but that was when she could enter the arrangement as something like an equal.
Now, she couldn't honestly accept, and the refusal would probably crush any chance of a later offer, when she was more settled.
Ritch gauged the distance between the side of the tub and the giant. She wondered if she could throw herself to his shoulder and interrupt the proposal.
But the extra weight of her dress precluded anything like that. She might be able to dive into his lap and stomp on his dick. That would interrupt the proposal. And the drowning might be worth it.
Frankly, she approved of the intent. Hortesnaed would make a wonderful wife to the big idiot, who desperately needed a protector. But as an off-handed offer, while naked, without a ring, or even a bracelet...
Both of them deserved much better. Even in this deserted mansion she could have arranged a romantic meal inside of three hours.
"What is it, Ted?" Hort asked.
"Well, if any of your former subordinates need a job, you should feel free to hire them for the house, here," he said.
"I mean, I know you two are making hiring suggestions, but if someone you trust or feel responsible for... Well, don't think you have to sneak them onto the payroll."
"I think I'll have to say I cannot, at this moment, what? What did you say?"
At the same moment Hort was turning down a proposal that wasn't offered, Ritch was offering assistance in softening the blow.
"As a hypothetical, it may be worth considering later but at this exact point in say what now?"
He looked from face to face. They stared. "What?"
"I thought you were gonna-" Ritch started to say.
"A very generous offer, Ted," Hort interrupted. "I don't think it'll be necessary, but I do really appreciate the sentiment." She gathered sopping garments and held a hand out to Ritch. "Let's go see if our trunks have been delivered and choose our rooms."
"And change," Ritch said, following her mistress' mood. Former mistress, she thought, current coworker.
Ted lowered them to the floor to save a difficult trip down the staircases in the wet clothes. He offered to carry them to the dollhouse, but they insisted that he finish his bath.
Once out of his sight, they stripped to their shifts and dragged the clothes towards the suites.
"I thought he was going to -"
"I know you did. I thought so, too."
"I think he wants to."
"Could be."
"Do you want him to?"
"Not naked," Hort snarled.
--------
The generous cut of Ted's new shirt and trousers seemed to delight him. They flapped around as he spun, shouting something about the time of mallets or sledges, Hort wasn't sure.
"And what is a 'porrashoot?'" Ritch asked. They watched him gyrate and hum to himself for a bit, repeating 'mallet time' as a refrain. There were times when the flowing cloth completely hid his body and even his form from view.
Hort shrugged. "I'm not sure I want to know. Is he excited because this is or isn't an Englishman fashion? Or because he's clean? Or do mallets porrashoot to make pantaloons?"
"Well, he does smell wonderfully unlike a sweaty Theodore Malone," Ritch said.
When he settled down, smiling, his mysterious elation was catching. The women smiled as they drew chairs across the table and set to prepare him to meet the King.
"King and most Holy Lord of Lilliput, Blefuscu, Georglet, Tepstetta, The Outer Islands, the lower Orbits, the Moon, the Sun, the Wind, the North Star and his personal constellation: Strength," Hort recited.
"A mouthful," Ted said. "Am I going to have to memorize that?"
"No, I'm sure you'll be able to stick to 'your majesty, your highness, your glory and, when invited, to use his personal name."
"Great. What's that?"
"Jactawfbiehaund."
Both women were startled by Ted's reaction. "What was that?" Hort asked.
"I think he laughed backwards. On an intake," Ritch said suspiciously. The three of them stared at each other. "Was there...a problem?"
"Did you know someone of that name back home?" Hort asked. Ted shook his head.
"I don't think he's breathing," Ritch assessed. She raised her voice. "Are you breathing?" she shouted. He shook his head again.
"You can't hold your breath before the monarch," Hort warned. "Is there a problem?"
"King..." He coughed. "Excuse me. King Jacked Off By Hand? That's his name?"
"Yes," Hort said slowly. "Though your accent is showing horribly."
"So... So... I'm going to be invited....by King Jact Awf Bi Hand, to call him Jacked Off By Hand. To his face."
"In front of the whole court," Hort said with a nod. "What's the problem?"
"Oh, nothing," he said. He slapped his own face, trying to keep a straight expression. "Nothing, nothing, nothing. Unless his wife's name is Incontinentia."
"You've heard of her?" Ritch asked with a smile of malicious glee. Ted stared. Then he burst out laughing. They watched as his guffaws approached a seizure, eventually throwing him back off the bench to roll on the floor, slapping at the tiles.
They stood and walked closer to the edge to observe the performance. "I think you've horribly insulted Queen Gangbangi," Hort said, "but I've no idea how...."
When he recovered, Ted announced an Englishman superstition against calling reigning monarchs by their name. Hort and Ritch shared a look but agreed to inform their royal majesties about this before the official presentation.
They then spent quite a bit of time on the appropriate titles, forms of address and prefixes. Everything he could use to avoid swallowing his own tongue in the future.
--------
Encouraged to hire people she knew and trusted, Hort staffed the mansion in record time.
Ted met with each new hire, even the scullery lads, at least long enough to hear their name. He also wanted them comfortable with his size and to encourage them to trust him.
"I know, in my lands, there's a tendency to bribe maids and cooks and chauffeurs for information or mementoes."
They would all swear that they could never countenance such betrayal.
"That's good," he said. "How's this, though? I demand that you don't spread rumors about me, or about the household. I don't care what they offer, I will not tolerate nor forgive. 'Kay?
"But to balance that, if someone's offering you money for a scrap of clothing or beard shavings or some other souvenir? Send word up to Hortense or Ritchie. We'll see if we can do without it.
"You can keep the money," he offered, outraging Ritch. "Figure that'll help you bear up against the bribes for info?"
They agreed that it seemed a fair arrangement, once more promising never to betray the Master or his minions, and scurried off to assume their duties.
They also had to learn to withstand his idea of 'humor.' One of the first days with a full staff, he watched maids cleaning and airing out the fifth floor parlor.
Three women were polishing a table half again as long as Ted's forearm. There were warships in the fleet with shorter keels.
Hortesnaed was on the fourth floor when she heard the giant rumble, "You missed a spot."
She dropped her clipboard, grabbed her skirts and rushed up the stairs. The poor furniture maid was wiping the table in a frenzy, sobbing her eyes out.
It was clear that a 'spot' the giant's eyes could detect must be a huge, glaring smear of dirt or dust or stain, yet she couldn't see anything. The other two maids weren't sure if they should try to help or to avoid the horribly incompetent young girl.
Hort skittered around the table to take the girl into her harms and hug her tight. "He was kidding!" she hissed. "He thought it was FUNNY!"
A stricken expression hovered outside the room, just beyond the newly-ordered safety rail. He apologized furiously, but was so upset he was doing it in Englishman.
Ritchasska scurried into the room a moment later. She gathered the other servants in the room together, assuring them that the big, she turned towards the fourth wall, IDIOT trusted them, appreciated their effort and meant no disrespect to their profession, their position or their persons.
"What she said," he said slowly and distinctly.
Hort pried the polishing cloth out of the woman's hands. "Now, now, dear. What's your name?"
"Distefell, miss."
"Ah." She turned to the giant. "Distafell is a highly, highly recommended maid from my Viscountery. She worked for the estate manager and he praised her skills, dedication and intelligence."
"I am so sorry that my attempt at Englishman humor was taken as criticism," he said. "What can we do to make it better?"
"You could polish the damned table until they're satisfied," she replied. The staff in hearing gasped. They gasped once more when Ted agreed.
Ritch and Hort supervised the supervision of the Master's efforts on the big table with a tiny cloth. He purposely left streaks and smears on the beautiful surface.
"Tell him!" Hort encouraged, until they found sufficient courage to voice criticisms. He complied until they were satisfied. Ritch then produced a white glove, wiped the table and showed the girls her finger. She turned and took a strip off of his hide.
Within a month, everyone in the household was telling coworkers 'you missed a spot.' The a traditional household response soon emerged: 'Get yourself stuffed.'
While this became common between the ranks on the bottom floors, only the maids felt comfortable telling this to the Master. Everyone else stuck to 'yes, sir,' when he teased.
-------
There was a trip to the shore while they were still waiting on new clothing. The Entanta had finally warped the raft to the harbor.
Without Ted's weight or his belongings, the wind had played merry hell with the towing. The delay had caused the slow leak to become more of an issue, too.
Royal engineers had met the ship in a distant port and sewn, hammered, glued and sworn profusely at the patch until it finally held.
Forty-sailor teams on the foot pump restored it to a nautical plumpness in a matter of days. Then it seemed to happily skip across the waves to meet its master.
Ted found the patch amazing and took the raft out to open ocean. At least by local standards. He could still have dived down to the bottom on one lung's worth of air.
Anchorage consisted of clearing a spot on the beach outside the city and dragging it into an empty pasure. He offered to rent the lands from the Marshal that owned them, but money was refused.
"He'll charge money for people to come out and see the giant's ship," Ritch said into his ear as he walked towards home.
"Oh." He thought that over, then turned and went back. Crowds were forming on the beach and at the fences. Ted sought out the Marshal.
"Excuse me?"
"My...um, milord?" the man guessed.
"Yeah, I forgot to mention, I've run out of the oil that makes the raft safe to touch."
"Safe?"
"Yes," Ted explained. "It's okay on the interior, and I'm too big to be worried. But if you or any of your people touch the outside of the raft? There may be some...excretions that the sea-water side produces.
"Be sure to wash any exposed skin immediately. Hot water, lots of soap. And don't go to sleep for a few hours, so you'll be aware of any...reactions."
"Reactions?" he asked, growing pale.
In the man-mountain's pocket, Ritch looked confused. Hort covered her mouth to stifle a laugh.
"Shouldn't be anything fatal," Ted assured him. "Just nausea and heart palpitations, maybe some polymicrogyria. Mild euphoria right before the seizures." He stood back up and walked along.
"What the hell was that about?" Ritch asked. Hort laughed. "What? What do you know? He never once warned us about any nausea or euphoria."
Ted was silent, waving at the populace as his steps carried him along.
"I know," Hort said. "But what would have happened if he merely said, say, please don't touch the boat, it's a damned pain to patch it up again."
"People would touch it when they thought they could get away with it," Ritch replied instantly.
"Right, right. Now, who's going to risk pulley-marco-ginia for the thrill of touching a rubber raft?"
"What the zuck is pulley-marco-ginia, anyway?"
"Lots of tiny little circles," Ted said in Englishman. "Lots and lots of tiny little circles." Hort translated.
"You.... You're teasing them!" Ritch accused.
"I'm keeping them from poking at the raft to see how thick it is," he said. "I doubt any single Lilliputian could poke a hole in it if they tried, but why risk it?"
They shook their heads as he caught up with the supply wagons hauling his property home.
"He is such a bullship artist," Ritch said.
"I don't think that's quite right," Hort said.
"He's a MAJOR bullship artist," Ritch corrected.
----------
At Hort's urging, Ted left quite early on the day of his presentation at Court. He had a habit of stopping along roads to talk to people. It was cute, she thought. And the population noted he made no distinctions between cheering noblemen on stands and homeless beggars under bridges.
He seemed to just love people. "Celebrities taught me that," he explained one night. "You never want to act as if the little people don't matter. No pun intended."
"Of course not," Hort allowed him generously.
"It's just...it's easy enough to keep everyone on your good side. It might be different if we had a war. I could smash a few castles and coast on the reputation of all the soldiers' lives I saved. But all I got right now is that I'm, well, pretty zucking huge."
So they just learned to allow for the fact that he needed extra time to play to the crowds.
Not too much time, the King might worry that Ted was trying to replace him, if only in the people's hearts.
Ritch had nodded and said they'd come up with a subtle signal when they judged he'd indulged enough fans.
They looped some 'Fental Floosh' around his ear, with the bitter end stringing down to his pocket.
That was a wonderful fashion accessory, the women thought. Big enough for five, with seating, a canopy for rain and shade, insect netting and in case he bent over, it swung out from his chest to leave them right side up instead of holding the hem for dear life.
At the first stop, Ritch's 'subtle' signal was to grab the handholds tied in the floosh, jump up and drop from the pocket.
The resulting yank drew an angry shout from the giant. She then kicked off of his elbow to swing wide as he tried to grab her and relieve the weight from his ear.
The crowd laughed at his antics. His fear of hurting Ritch slowed his hand and made her look as a canary evading a slow, stupid cat.
His visits with the 'papparazzi' were much shorter after that.
--------
The royal Court had moved to the courtyard outside for this meeting. Ted was announced from a balcony as he stepped over the palace wall.
He lowered the noble ladies to the ground, gentle and slow. Maybe not as gentle as he might have when both of his ears were at the same height, but there was no permanent damage, to the women or their garments.
Square footage was carefully marked off for his person right before the Royals joined the Court. He bowed low, as they had rehearsed.
The King was announced, he introduced the Queen. Ted was properly deferential and expressed his appreciation at their notice.
His Majesty inquired about the mansion, their travels and announced some small interest in the lands Ted came from.
The Queen wanted to know if he'd left any...family behind. "I'm unmarried," he admitted. Her eyes lit up and some of her attending ladies stepped forward.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," the king said, waving the women back. "First, we have to get your house in order. I can recommend several good men for your Secretary."
"Thank you, your royality," Ted interrupted, "but..." Hort bit her lip. The word was an Englishmanism, not one they'd taught him.
Ritch held a hand to her forehead. The interruption could maybe be explained by his lack of experience with the higher positions of society. But she wished she'd kept the floosh in place. A yank would be handy right now.
Everyone in the courtyard froze. They looked to the throne to see the King's reaction. Not only was he interrupted, but he might have to pay back the bribes of whoever he was going to suggest.
He looked as if he'd bitten into an apple and found a flea. But he waved an invitation to continue. "Yes, but?"
"But... I've already hired these two ladies as my secretaries."
"Ladies," his royality repeated.
"Yes, sir. Sire. Yes, sire."
"You can't have lady secretaries," the Queen pointed out. "It's not done."
"They did protest," Ted admitted. Hort sighed. They couldn't claim, now, that it was an act of ignorance.
"You can't take him anywhere," Ritch muttered.
"But they are two of the people I trust most in the entire world," he went on. "We became something of a family on the trip here. I trust their counsel. You can appoint someone to the official position they effectively hold.
"But whatever they advise me, they're going to get tired of me asking these two if it's a good idea or not."
"But two secretaries?" the King asked.
"They've taught me all I know about Lilliput," he said. "But I still have lots and lots to learn. I think I'll keep them both very busy taking care of me."
The King looked thoughtful, but the Queen was scornful. "Well, if that's how you feel, why don't you marry both of them?"
"Okay!" Ted said. Every head in the courtyard, Royal, Noble, Aide, Servant and Instant Fiance, all whipped up to look at Ted, then spun towards the Queen.
She opened her mouth to respond. Then snapped it shut.
The King started to laugh. She glared, which only made him laugh louder. "Well," he said, "there's certainly enough of him to share!"
The Queen whispered in a servant's ear. He ran to a tree near the edge of the courtyard and ripped a branch free.
The King watched as he returned to the Queen and handed it over. He laughed even louder when she started to use the switch on him.
The King's own secretary gestured. The band started up and guests raised their voices. The party had started. Royalty finished their debate and stepped down among the populace to mingle.
Hort and Ritch strode rapidly towards where Ted knelt.
"My Lady," Ritch swore, "I swear to you, I never meant-"
"Oh, stifle it, Ritchasska," Hortesnaed said with a smile. "It wasn't anyone's plan. But this sneaky bastard has ever been one to leap on opportunity."
They both looked up at the human. Their expressions managed to convey how much they adored him for his whimsical approach to life as they had known it, and to glare at him for the headlong dive into a future they were supposed to help manage.
He wasn't sure how much trouble he was in, but it seemed likely there was some. He swallowed and bent down closer. "So, uh, we're engaged, now?"
"Oh, dear,"Hort laughed.
"No, no, no, you great idiot," Ritch explained. "You're betoken. At Royal direction. You still owe us a formal engagement."
"With engagement gifts."
"And the formal posting of the intention."
"With intention gifts." Ted thought Hort's smile was getting positively predatory. Trouble indeed.
"And then the negotiations for the wedding."
"Weddings!"
"Weddings! With Weddings Giftses!"
"And more giftses!"
"And you don't even know if you can afford to marry both of us!" They tittered. Ted had never heard such...carnivorous laughter. "You don't know what rank the King was going to give you!"
"I can at least solve that."
Ted was already kneeling so he merely carefully lowered his head to the ground. The women, his women, curtsied.
King and Queen nodded as they stepped closer. His Highness gestured and the various courtiers around them stepped back for some pretend privacy.
"Well, well, well," he told the trio. "Quite an evening already, and we haven't even been at the wine."
"Quite, Sire," Hort said.
"Rank, huh?" He sipped from a gold chalice. He, at least, had been at the wine already. But for once the major faux pas of the evening wasn't on his shoulders. He was quite giddy at the realization. Her Majesty hovered off of his shoulder, glaring at everything that moved.
"Well, I'd been thinking of maybe making you an Esquire, Sir Ted."
"Thank you, Sire," Ted replied.
"Oh, that would never have worked. I'd start you so low only so that I could steadily reward you with promotions.
"But now, you have these two lovely ladies to keep in the style to which you all want to become accustomed." He sipped again.
"And I think I want to stay on the good side of a man so clever as you."
"Indeed," the Queen snorted.
"So, let's cut to the chase. I'll create you the Duke of Cashpierent Mountains." Even Ted knew enough of royal ranks to be impressed by that. Duke was the last rank of nobility before one became Royal.
Raised to that height in one great step... Even as a former Duchess herself, Hort looked shocked. Ritch looked like she was having a stroke.
"And, to keep people from fighting over which one of you is the ranking wife, I'll create both of you Duchesses in your own right. Keeps the fighting on an even keel, no one outranks the other."
"Theh- theh- theh-" Ritch attempted.
"Thank you, your Grace," Hort said. She closed Ritch's mouth with a gentle touch. "From all of us." More bowing and curtseying.
"Think nothing of it," the King said.
"My dear," the queen said, "if both of them are to be his wives, the Secretary's position is open."
He laughed. "Two wives and I'm going to throw an innocent man into their den?" He shook his head and took his wife by the arm. "Let's leave them work it out on their own."
He stepped slowly past Ted's chin. "Come see me before you go home," he ordered in a low but clear voice. Then he was gone.
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