In this book, Sir Meliapharo of Eho will tell the story of how he became the Secret Detective, about a giggling ghost, about the Royal Perfumer, about raising a sensible piece of tableware, about the most monstrous person in the United Kingdom, and other, no less interesting, things.
The story told by Sir Meliapharo
My father became famous as a great traveler and author of the “Encyclopedia of the World,” the most complete description to date of absurd legends, senseless prejudices, bad manners, and ridiculous outfits of the inhabitants of all four continents. And one of my older brothers—who devoted his life to the high art of sea hunting—is well known to the population of the continents mentioned above as the terror of the seas that wash them.
It may seem that I’m praising him with a relative’s exaggeration, but the facts speak for themselves: Sir Anchifa Meliapharo has been condemned to death in absentia in all barbarian lands where the custom of executing pirates is still practiced—and to staggering fines in more civilized countries. A professor whose lectures on international law were so entertaining that I visited them not once, not twice, but possibly even three or four times, believed that using Anchifa as an example makes it extremely convenient to compare the legal systems of different states. After all, he harmed everyone in roughly equal measure, and he didn’t ignore anyone.
Even if a country has no access to the sea, its clever citizens usually find a way to get to the coast: by boarding the first ship that comes along—and thus bring closer the day of that unforgettable meeting with my famous brother.
When I was a child, of course, I believed I would also become a great sailor—either a pirate or simply a traveler. I saw no difference between these occupations, even though my father and my brother insist in chorus that the pirate’s trade is far more reliable and profitable than the dangerous and not burdened by any low benefit work of an investigator.