He got no further, for Mustelid squeaked in fury and lunged from his chair, aiming a blow at the dwarf.
Shelyid ducked. “I was only trying to help,” he whined, and scurried from the room.
Outside the hotel, he espied his master’s figure striding toward the travel depot, and hastened to catch up. Once they arrived, Zulkeh thrust his pile of misshapen ingots at the ticket vendor. “Here is the gold to pay the fine you have levied upon me.”
The ticket vendor glanced coldly at the pile of ungeometric gold bars.
“I regret to inform you, sir,” stated the ticket vendor in a voice devoid of inflection or discernible tone, “that this is unacceptable. The GGNESWC& etc. can only accept payment in the recognized legal tender of the region, which, in this instance, is the Consortium Ducat.”
“I see. And where may I acquire such specie?”
“You may exchange your gold for ducats at the Caravanserai Moneylenders Association, located two doors down the street.”
Arriving at the specified location but a few moments later, Zulkeh and Shelyid passed through a door over which was suspended the traditional and time-honored emblem of the moneylender, an iron fist squeezing blood from a stone. Within, the wizard approached the teller’s window and laid his eccentric bullion upon the counter.
“I should like to exchange these for Consortium Ducats.”
“Certainly, sir,” said the teller, flicking the idiosyncratic nuggets onto a scale with a splayed and callused thumb. “That comes to twenty-four hundred ducats.” He laid six stacks of coins upon the counter. But just as Zulkeh reached out to pick up the coins, the tellers removed one of the stacks.
“What do you do there?” demanded the mage. “That is my money!”
“You are grotesquely in error,” replied the cashier. “There is a sixteen point six seven percent service charge for processing gold which is not tendered in the form of the officially established Consortium Ingot.”
Zulkeh opened his mouth to protest, reconsidered, and stormed out.
* * *
Later that night, as our heroes retired to their pallets, the dwarf Shelyid was heard to grumble, “I’ll be glad to get out of this place, master.”
“Well spoken, gnome. And now to sleep.”
PART VIII
In Which, With
Great Horror, We Relate
the Despicable Doings of the
Desperado Sfondrati-Piccolomini
As He Takes It Upon Himself
To Stand Against Custom
in the Baronies.
The Autobiography of Benvenuti Sfondrati-Piccolomini,
Episode 5: Dirt, Darkness, Droits and Decisions
So it was in such cramped quarters that I awoke later that day. For a moment—quite a long moment, truth be told—I luxuriated in the feel of Gwendolyn’s body pressed against my own. Beyond the thicket in which we were hidden, the sun was setting. The reddish glow within the dimness of the thick shrubbery bathed her in soft and glorious color.
I became so engrossed in the artistic possibilities, in addition to the purely sensual aspects of the experience, that I was quite oblivious when Gwendolyn herself awoke. Her head was nestled on my shoulder, her face turned toward me, and I suspect she studied me under lowered lids for some time before she finally spoke.
“I’m not sure whether to be flattered, annoyed, amused—or all three,” she murmured. “I’ve been ogled before, but . . . never like this.”
I froze for an instant. But then, feeling the gentle pressure of her hand on my chest and realizing that she was not really offended, I smiled. “My apologies, I suppose. But you are both beautiful in your own right and—” I groped for words. “It would make such a magnificent portrait.”
Her initial response was a slight stiffness. But then I felt her hand slide down from my chest and come to rest on my ribs, as if instinct was urging her to caress. The sensation that little movement produced in me was . . . call it intense.
I believe it was for her, also. At least, the chuckle which she emitted seemed strained and forced. “So. What’s the title? And I warn you again—no ‘leather’ or ‘form and function’ allowed.”
My own response was a bit forced, I suspect. “I was thinking more along the lines of Tranquility Where Not Expected.”