Myth-Told Tales m-13

by Robert Asprin

  “It's on a backwater dimension. Rinky-dink”

  “That bad, huh?”

  “No. That's the name of the dimension. Rinky-dink. Ill give you directions if youll spot me another round.”

  “Really, Spyder, dear,” Pookie said. “You have to be more careful about what you say and who you say it to.”

  “But I didn't say anything!” Spyder protested. “I did what you told me. I kept my mouth shut and let you take the lead.”

  “Except when you mentioned that we had done our last job with Aahz and Skeeve.”

  “What's wrong with that?” Spyder said. “He seemed really impressed. Besides, you were the one who mentioned that we knew them.”

  “That we knew them. Not that we had just worked with them,” Pookie pointed out. “Think about it. The reason he was impressed is that Skeeve's crew has a rep for drawing the high-end. high-pay jobs.”

  “So?”

  “So if we just worked with them, then it's not too big of a logic step to figure that we've got more than a bit of money on us. Not exactly the wisest thing to mention in front of an adventurer who just botched a job and is admittedly short of cash.”

  Spyder stopped short. “You mean he might have tried to take it away from us?”

  “There's always that chance,” Pookie said with a shrug. “I believe I mentioned that most adventurers are some form of thief. Not to worry, though. I kept an eye behind us when we left the tavern. He doesn't seem to be following us.”

  Spyder threw a quick glance behind them. Obviously, the possibility of their being followed hadn't occurred to her until just now. Pookie pretended not to notice.

  “Well, we probably could have taken him if he tried anything,” Spyder said with firm confidence.

  “Probably,” Pookie agreed. “Still, there's no need to stir up trouble unnecessarily. Remember we're professionals, dear. We're not supposed to fight for free. Ah! This should be the place just ahead.”

  Spyder hung back, slowing her pace. “Explain to me again, Pookie. Why is it we're going to talk to the sheriff?”

  “Since we're pretty much legit this time around, it doesn't hurt to check in with the local law,” her partner said.

  “Never did like talking to the law.” Spyder scowled. “It doesn't ever seem to work out to my advantage. In fact, I usually end up in trouble.”

  “That might be because you were usually in trouble before you talked to them,” Pookie said, sweetly. “Look at it this way, Little Sister. From what we've heard, this job is going to involve us working the countryside. That's never been my favorite setting, since it's invariably full of things that go squish when you step on them and bite you when you're trying to sleep. If at all possible, I'd like to know what or who else will be out there with us. All we need is a bunch of trigger-happy bounty hunters that let fly at anything that moves. The sheriff here should be able to supply us with that information if we ask him nice. So smile pretty, and let me take the lead again.”

  The office they entered was small and cluttered, with empty wineskins and half-eaten plates of food scattered here and there. It was dominated, though, by the sheriff. He was stocky with a noticeable bulge around his waist-line, and outfitted in a wrinkled ranger uniform that looked like he slept in it That suspicion was easily confirmed by the fact that he was currently sitting behind his desk with his head down on his arms, snoring nasally. Spyder looked at Pookie with her eyebrows raised. Her partner responded with a shrug and a roll of her eyes before clearing her throat.

  “Urn … Excuse me. Sheriff? Are you the sheriff?”

  The man lurched upright, blinking dazedly. He did a slight doubletake when he realized the nature of his company, and wiped a grubby hand over his face and beard, forcing a smile.

  “Sorry,” he mumbled. “Long night and a slow day. So … What can I do to help you … ladies?”

  “We've heard that you've been having some problems with a Hefalump,” Pookie said. “Thought we might give a shot at going after it… if the price is right”

  “You have to take that up with the Due.” The sheriff yawned. “He's the one putting up the reward. I can tell you the money's good, though. Enough to draw a small troop of sell-swords trying to collect it”

  “The Due?”

  “He's the one who runs the territory around here. Actually, his name is Duke Rybred, but most folks call him the Due on account of the way he's built. He pretty much stays on his estate just north of the town and leaves the tax collecting and keeping of order to me and my deputies.”

  “If you don't mind my asking,” Pookie said carefully, “why isn't he having you and your deputies take care of this Hefalump instead of advertising for outside help?”

  “What, me? Go traipsing around the woods chasing some huge critter that's only bothering the farmers?” The sheriff seemed actually surprised at the thought. “That wasn't what we were hired for. I'm more than happy to leave it to the youngbloods who are out to make a name for themselves.”

  “Anyone out there ahead of us right now?”

  “Naw,” the sheriff said, scratching his beard. “Last one came back and left a couple days ago. There were a fair number parading through here for a while, but it's kind of petered out lately. Guess the word has gotten out that the Hefalump is tougher than anyone thought and doesn't take kindly to anyone trying to shoo it away.”

  Pookie looked at Spyder who shrugged in return. “Well, I guess we'll go talk to the Due … Duke, now,” the Pervect said. “Any tips you can give us on handling the Hefalump?”

  The sheriff thought for a moment. “Take extra bandages,” he said finally. “And be sure your insurance is paid up.”

  If the sheriff was unimpressive, the Duke of Rybred was positively underwhelming. Whereas the sheriff had been stocky with a bit of a pot belly, the Due was short and pudgy. He also walked with a rolling waddle that made him look… well, like a duck. Though he dressed well, he had a habit of rubbing his hands together and licking his lips like a miser with an unexpected tax refund. It left one with a feeling one should count one's fingers after shaking hands … if one cared to shake hands at all.

  “Well, well, well,” he said, licking his lips and rubbing his hands together. “If nothing else, you two are the most attractive adventurers to try our little quest. Tell you what. Instead of going after the Hefalump and maybe getting your sweet selves dinged up or killed, what would you say to hiring on as my personal bodyguards? It would only be for public appearances … though I'm sure we would work out some kind of a bonus program for overtime.”

  “I think we'll take our chances with the Hefalump,” Pookie said. “That was for five hundred in gold. Right?”

  “That's right,” the Due said, apparently unaffected by the rejection. “Five hundred once the beast is killed or scared off. Now you two girls be careful when you go after it”

  “You have no idea how careful we can be.” Pookie smiled. “For example, how do we know we'll get out money after we've killed the critter?”

  The Due's smile wavered a little. “Why, because I've told you I'll pay you. Surely you don't doubt my word?”

  “Not yours specifically,” Pookie said. “Still, it isn't entirely unheard of that an adventurer has taken on some dangerous assignment only to find that when it was over, whoever hired him had a sudden memory lapse as to the exact amount promised. Some have even forgotten that payment was promised at all. On the off chance that something like that happened to us, we don't have much recourse. I mean, what can we do? Sue you? As I understand it you're the one who sits in judgment around here. We couldn't forcibly take it from you without having to face your household guards who, of course, would be on the alert at that time. Even if we got mad and just killed you, that still wouldn't get us our money. See what I mean?”

  “Yes. I can see where that would be a problem,” the Due said, avoiding their eyes.

  “Now, we don't mind risking our necks for money,” Pookie said. “That's our business. It's ju
st that we'd like some kind of assurance that we'll actually get our money at the end of it”

  “What do you suggest?”

  “Put it in escrow,” Pookie said with a shrug. “Send the money to … say, the sheriff to hold until the job's over. We check with him, make sure the money's there and waiting for us, then we go after your Hefalump.”

  “That's fine by me,” the Due said, licking his lips. “Ill be glad when this situation is handled, believe me. As far as I'm concerned, the beast could go on doing its thing. It didn't bother anybody until they expanded their fields into its territory. If the farmers hadn't threatened to with-hold their taxes until I did something about it, I would have just ignored the whole thing.”

  “Part of the price of ruling, I guess,” Pookie said. “So, if we're in agreement, well drop by the sheriffs … say, tomorrow to check on the reward. Then well be on our way.”

  “… 496 … 497 … 498 … 499 … 500! It's all here.”

  Pookie waved at her junior partner as she poured yet another flagon of wine for the sheriff.

  “I gotta hand it to you two,” the sheriff said, raising the flagon in a mock toast. “I always thought the Due was clever, but you've got him beat. ‘Put the money in escrow.’ I tell you with all the sell-swords and adventurers that have come through here, no one else has come up with that move.”

  “We've just had a little more experience with money grubbers than most” Pookie smiled, sipping at her own drink.

  “Umm … can I ask a question?” Spyder said.

  “You not only can, you may,” her companion said. “Huh?”

  “Never mind.” Pookie waved. “What's the question?”

  “Well, you keep talking about how clever the Due is,” Spyder said with a frown. “I wasn't all that impressed with him.”

  “Bit of a scum bag, isn't he,” Pookie said with a grimace. “Do you see what I mean about the offers female bodyguards get?”

  “So what makes him so clever?”

  “You have to learn to listen closer, dear,” Pookie said. “The Due had no intention of paying us… or anyone else regardless of the failure or success.”

  “He didn't?”

  “Add up the pieces,” Pookie said, counting off the points on her fingers. “First, the farmers try to expand their holdings and run into a local critter, the Hefalump, that takes offense at their trespassing. Second, by his own admission, the Due would have ignored it, but the farmers threatened to withhold their tax monies unless he did something. His response was to offer a reward to anyone who would kill or scare off the beast.”

  Spyder frowned thoughtfully, then shook her head. “So what's wrong with that?”

  “Nothing's wrong with it,” Pookie said. “It's actually very clever. He had to do something, so what he did was make an offer. A move that cost him no money or effort. Simply by making the offer, he kept the farmers paying taxes.”

  “And if anyone were actually successful going up against the Hefalump, he could renege on the payment and it still cost him nothing,” Spyder finished. “That is kind of clever. But we outfoxed him with this escrow thing, huh.”

  “Not really.” Pookie shrugged. “Remember the sheriff here answers to the Due. That's why the Due agreed so readily. Tell me, Sheriff, were your instructions to send the money back as soon as we went after the Hefalump, or were you supposed to wait until tomorrow?”

  Silence answered her.

  “Hey! He's asleep!” Spyder said.

  “Yes,” Pookie said without looking. “And with what I put in his drink, he should be out until well after midnight”

  She rose to her feet and stretched. “So, Little Sister, gather up that lovely gold and we'll be on our way.”

  “What?” Spyder exclaimed. “You mean we're just going to take the gold without going after the Hefalump at all? But that's …”

  “Stealing,” Pookie said. “If you want to pretty it up, the Due was ready to swindle adventurers by taking advantage of their short-sightedness. We're just returning the favor. Remember I told you that adventurers are thieves or killers … and you specifically said that, if possible, you'd rather be a thief?” She paused and considered the sleeping sheriff. “Of course, if you've changed your mind, we could slit his throat on the way out”

  “But won't they come after us?”

  “And admit that they've been flimflammed? By a couple females?” Pookie smiled. “I doubt it Even if they do, they don't even have our names when it comes to tracking us down, Looking for a Klahd and a Pervect, they'd be lucky if they didn't run smack into Aahz and Skeeve.”

  MYTH-CALCULATIONS

  By Robert Asprin and Jody Lynn Nye

  I eyed Guido as he slid into the booth opposite me. We were at the very back of the inn in the Bazaar, a favorite spot of ours to relax, but also to do business. It was one of the few places where a Troll such as I fit behind the tables as readily as Deveels, Klahds, and Imps, probably a tribute to their high-fat cuisine. I signed to the innkeeper to bring us the specialty of the house.

  “Three strawberry milkshakes,” I said. “Will that suit you, Tananda?” My little sister nodded, still keeping her attention on Guido. The Mob enforcer, as dapper as ever in his big-shouldered sharkskin suit, seemed uncomfortable, shifting on the slick bench. I caught the bartender just before he turned away. “Oh, and if anyone's looking for us, we're not here.”

  “Whatever you say, Chumley,” the proprietor said, with a cheery wave.

  “Thanks, Chumley,” Guido said, keeping his fedora in front of his face.

  “Well,” I said, keeping my voice low, since Guido had asked for confidentiality. “To what do we owe this meeting? We always welcome a chance to chat with friends.”

  Guido worked a finger under his collar as if to loosen it “Dis is by way of bein' business,” he admitted. “Don Bruce has gotta problem.”

  Tananda's eyebrows went up, and I know mine were the mirror of hers. Though my face was masculine, enormous, and covered by fur, with tusks at the corners of my mouth, and hers was female, elfin, and beautiful, those people who knew our family could easily see the resemblance. “What kind of problem would he have that he can't handle by himself?” I asked.

  “It's kind of embarrassin',” Guido said, hesitating again. “It's a financial problem. He's still flush, for now, but if word gets around he might start havin' to reach further down in his pockets, and dat he does not like to do.”

  I was cognizant of that. The Don was generous to his friends and those of his relatives on whom he doted, but he disliked having to “shell out,” as he would say. “Word of what?”

  “Well, it's somethin' goin' on here in the Bazaar, which is why I come to youse.” Guido shot a quick glance around to make certain we were not overheard. Several Deveel merchants had noticed the three of us for, though we were in a private booth at the rear of the establishment, my size did not lend itself to subtle concealment. When I turned toward them and bared my teeth, they quickly not-looked at something else. Guido continued.

  “You know how the Don's interests stand here on Deva. He takes a … personal interest in the well-bein' of the businesspeople here. For this service he expects a small weekly kickba — I mean, honorarium. That's just for goodwill. It ain't supposed to put no one out of business, and it ain't supposed to make anyone hurt. That comes if somethin' goes wrong. In exchange, we are, like, on call in case there's trouble. No one leans on one of our clients without us comin' in and makin' 'em stop.”

  “I understand all that, but where does the problem arise?”

  Guido's face darkened. “There's someone else hornin' in on our deal here, you should excuse the expression. The deveel's in the details. The Don suspects dese same individuals have been runnin' small loans for the little guy. Now, you know how it's hard for anyone to operate in the Bazaar. Once in a while you need a little extra cash. Normally they go to one of the usual establishments, or they come to us. Everything's fine if you pay back on time. Anyone who tr
ies to skip out gets leaned on. Now between the loans and the protection… I mean, insurance payments, all the action is with dis new group, and we're not gettin' our cut. The way they do it is not so different on the way youse guys were helpin' run the Don's operation, but when defaulters get the treatment from these new people, they ain't the same anymore. Geddit?”

  “I believe so,” I said. “Would you mind elucidating further?”

  “I don't do no elucidatin',” Guido said, “but I'll tell ya some more. This action has been cuttin' into the profits the Mob has come to expect. I've tried talkin' to 'em myself, but they're not answerin'. And they're not trottin' back into the fold, like the Don wants. He sent me here, but I'm out of my depth. I need an enforcer to bring 'em all back into line.”

  “Why ask us?” I inquired. “Why not someone like Aahz?”

  “Well,” Guido admitted, “he ain't felt what you would call motivated lately, since the Boss left”

  “He's the logical person, being, well… formidable.”

  “Yeah,” Guido said, glumly. “I got him to go and lean on one of the, uh, clients, but they was too scared to comply.”

  “They wouldn't comply? With a Pervert?” Tananda asked, astonished.

  “Pervect” I quelled my little sister with a look. Aahz was an old friend, and shouldn't be referred to by a derogatory title, especially one he personally eschewed. “What could possibly cause such a breakdown in authority?”

  “More to the point,” Tananda asked, interrupting me, “who is it? A rival gang?”

  “I dunno,” Guido said. “The, er, clients can't talk about it. We used … a lil magikal persuasion, but I gotta tell ya, the results was not what you would call pretty. A guy explodes rather than give with the information like we asked him. And I know me and Nunzio didn't use nothin' that would have caused that kind of effect. It was self-inflicted.” Guido toyed uneasily with his empty mug. “I'm askin', like, as a pal, to see if youse can't get these accounts back into the tidy line like Don Bruce prefers to see.”