“Wait a minute!” Brockhurst was suddenly attentive. “Did you say you come from Archiah?”
“That I did,” the old man grinned. “Ajax’s the name, fighting’s my game. Ain’t seen a war yet that could lay old Ajax low, and I’ve seen a lot of ‘em.”
“Um . . . could you excuse us for just a minute, sir?” Brockhurst smiled apologetically.
“Sure, son,” Ajax nodded. “Take your time.”
I couldn’t understand the Imp’s sudden change in attitude, but he seemed quite intense as he jerked his head at me, so I leaned close to hear what he had to say.
“Hire him, boss!” he hissed in my ear.
“What?” I gasped, not believing I had heard him right.
“I said hire him!” the Imp repeated. “I may not have much to offer you, but I can give you advice. Right now, my advice is to hire him.”
“But he’s-“
“He’s from Archiah!” Brockhurst interrupted. “Boss, that dimension invented archery. You don’t find many genuine Archers of any age for hire. If you’ve really got a war on your hands, hire him. He could tip the balance for us.”
“If he’s that good,” I whispered back, “can we afford him?”
“One gold piece will be adequate,” Ajax smiled toothily, adding his head to our conference. “I accept your offer.”
“Excellent!” Brockhurst beamed.
“Wait a minute,” I shrieked desperately, “I have a partner that-“
“I know, I know,” Ajax sighed, holding up a restraining hand. “I heard when you told Bratwurst here.”
“That’s Brockhurst,” the Imp growled, but he did it smiling.
“If your partner can’t find help, then we’re hired!” the old man laughed, shaking his head. “It’s a mite strange, but these are strange times.”