“That is all?”
“That is what I said. Am I to understand that you are calling into question the—”
“No, no, no,” spoke the mage hastily. “By no means. I am simply seeking to clarify the matter. As I now understand it, the only difference in the tickets is the tickets themselves. Each ticket, of no matter which class or rate, will purchase the same transport, the same lodgings en route, the same accommodations, etc.?”
“That is correct.”
“An excellent policy! In former times, prior to your acquisition of a monopoly over this industry, the desirous voyager was beset by impudent hagglers, each offering a different service for a different fee. You have cut through this mindless hurly-burly at one stroke, reducing the question to its intrinsic essence of prestige and social snobbery.”
“That is correct. And now, sir, I am busy and you have taken much of my time. Where are you going? And what is your preference in class and rate?”
“As for destination, my apprentice and I journey to Prygg. As for class and rate, whichever is the cheapest—for my worldly wealth is little, and the subliminity of my intellect requires no social trappings to sustain it.”
“Common scum,” announced the ticket vendor. “Twelve piasters for two common scum to Prygg.”
“I shall take them,” spoke Zulkeh, pushing twelve small coins through the slot in the bars. In return, two torn and greasy scraps of paper upon which were scrawled “Prygg” were carelessly tossed back. Picking them up off the floor, Zulkeh gathered up his apprentice and proceeded through the gate leading to the outer court. There the tickets were inspected by an employee, who bestowed upon our heroes a well-practiced sneer. “To the left!” he barked.
They followed these directions and, after walking through a further passageway, came upon their vehicle. It was a huge old coach, easily large enough to accommodate twelve passengers. The coach was rakishly tilted, not by design but simply because it rested on four wheels of varying design and diameter, the which had clearly been salvaged from other vehicles.
Within, the coach gave evidence of a past glory now sadly gone. The seats had originally been dyed a deep green, but were now much faded with age. The padding had a tendency to protrude from the many rips and tears in the covers. The floor was covered by a once-plush carpet now stained and soiled. Ingress and egress to the coach were provided by two large and much-weathered doors, hanging on rusty hinges. Tattered curtains hung in the windows.
Barely had Zulkeh and Shelyid entered the coach when the vehicle lurched into motion. Shelyid sprawled onto the floor.
“Master!” he cried. “We’re off!”
“Well spoken, dwarf. Our journey has begun.”
PART II
In Which We Follow the
Further Progress of the Terrorist
Trio in Their Unlawful Escape From Goimr,
Revealing Therein Fell Visions and Portents.
Taken, As Before, From the Autobiography of the
Renegade Benvenuti Sfondrati-Piccolomini,
the Veracity of Whose Account, We Must
Emphatically Repeat, Is In No Wise
Guaranteed by the Noble Alfredae.
The Autobiography of Benvenuti Sfondrati-Piccolomini,
Episode 2: Statues, Soldiers, Snarls, and Soothsayers
So it was on such a wretched cart that I left the city of Goimr.
Strangely enough, the real difficulty we encountered in making our escape was none of the things I had foreseen. It was not the police, not the soldiers, not even the absurd spectacle of Wolfgang posing as a gigantic statue being hauled in the back of the cart.
It was the damned draymasters. When we entered the boulevard leading to the Dreary Gate on the northwest edge of the city, there was a great mob of them lounging about in front of the stables. No sooner did they catch sight of Gwendolyn in her yoke, hauling the cart, than they rushed up and began a fierce bidding for her.
I was appalled, really. Often enough had I heard my uncles describe Grotum as backward and medieval, but the reality of it had never truly penetrated until then.
“And will you look at the size of that mare!” cried one.
“I’ll give you three quid!” exclaimed another.
“I’ll make it four!” came from a third.