Keeper, it turned out, had learned to use pretty much every weapon after twenty years in the Duke’s Army, though he said they mostly used spears and shields. “Because they’re the easiest for idiot peasants to learn to use quickly,” he said, though he had a smile on his face when he said it. And when he gave knife-fighting lessons, he almost managed to forget that I was a mighty and dreadful Song Mage. Once he was sure I wouldn’t vaporize him, he even dumped me in the dirt when I had it coming. And when no one was looking.

He liked my scramasax, though he just called it, “That big dagger,” or “Your oversized toothpick,” if I was being particularly clumsy. I learned to draw it quickly without cutting myself (harder than you might think,) how to use it to parry a larger weapon, and how to use it to my advantage for close fighting.

“You’re a tall fellow with long arms,” said Keeper. “And that’s good and bad. It means you’ve more reach than a typical knife fighter, and have a little extra to deal with a sword or an axe. But it also means you still need more room to fight than a lot of knife fighters. It balances out.”

My new body was already in better shape than my old, and with simple unprocessed food, not a lot of sugar, and daily exercise, it got even better. Meg never missed a chance to tell me I was getting more and more handsome, nor a chance to show me how much she appreciated it after we went to bed. If I’d known it really was this easy, I’d have been a gym rat on Earth, nerd or no nerd.

Keeper and Miranda were, to my never-ending wonderment, totally fine with Meg sleeping in my room. The only thing they ever said about it was Miranda teasing her once or twice - when I wasn’t around - about forgetting the birthbane, because wouldn’t we make wonderful babies? Me so handsome and both of us Song Mages? Meg, though I think she agreed, stood firm with me and took the herb every morning. She assured me it was completely reliable. Which was better than anything we had on Earth, so color me impressed.

When I wasn’t dallying with Meg or dillying with Keeper, I was writing things down in a journal I made. Mostly it was stories from Earth, and other things I wanted to document before I spent so much time on Laroha the memories faded. I found that I could write in English if I tried to, and nobody could read so much as a word of it. At least not anybody I trusted enough to show the book to. Paper was a little expensive, but thanks to my gigantic hoard of cash, it wasn’t a big deal for William to sell me most of what he had and order more for the next time a trader wandered through. I suppose I could have asked the Mayor, too. William said he got his direct from the Duke’s supplier and not through the store. But I didn’t write that fast.

And so two weeks and a few days passed, and I started to feel very much at home with my new little family.

That should have been the tipoff.

A few days before the Song Fair, custom started to pick way up at the Merchant’s Rest. Several of its demographic targets showed up. One of them was apparently used to having my room and somehow found out I was in it but not who I was. It was quite comical, I found out later, when he told Keeper with a sniff to throw that “stripling” out of his room. Keeper, to his credit, just said that I was a long-term guest and that if he had a problem with it, he could talk to me. I think that was his way of trying to toughen me up.

Anyway, I came down for supper and a tall fellow in a reasonably fancy outfit was standing by the bar, obviously waiting for me. I gave him a friendly nod, not knowing him from Adam.

“You’re the boy in room number two, aren’t you?” he said impatiently.

“I am, yes,” I said, brow furrowed. “Is there a problem?”

“I always stay in that room for the Song Fair,” he said. “You’ll need to find somewhere else.”

Keeper was absolutely stone-faced when I looked at him, my eyes full of questions. He just stood there polishing a glass and didn’t even seem to realize I was talking to this dude.

“Did you have a reservation?” I said. “Keeper never said anything about me having to move.”

“No,” he said with a sniff. “I don’t need one. I’ve stayed in that room every year for six years. If you’ve already paid, I’m sure Keeper will give you your money back.”

I looked at Keeper again, who was still playing dumb. Darn you, you knew this would happen, I thought.

Turning back to tall, dark and grumpy, I said, “Well, I’m sorry you’re being inconvenienced, but I like that room. All my stuff is in there and I’ve just got the bed bro…” I stopped myself. Now it was my turn not to look at Keeper. “I mean, I’ve got it settled the way I like.”

The merchant turned to Keeper and said, “Are you really going to lose my custom for this boy?”

“He’s in the room and he’s paid a long way in advance,” Keeper lied without turning a hair. Unless you count ‘He turned my daughter into a Song Mage’ as payment. “I won’t make him move if he doesn’t want to move.”

I could almost feel the hand of the plot gods at work. Somehow I knew I was about to do something very, very foolish. It made me smile quite happily.

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“I might be persuaded to move if you could compensate me for my trouble,” I said pleasantly.

“Pfft,” said the merchant. No, really, he said “pfft,” you could almost hear each letter. It was even more impressive than the doctor’s sniff. “I could give you a few coppers for your ‘trouble,’ if it gets me my room.”

“I really like that room,” I said. “But I’ll tell you what. You seem like a man of means.” He smirked at this and I got ready to set the hook. “I’ll let you have it if you can pay me the same as I’ve got in my pocket already. Double my money seems more than fair.”

He looked at me suspiciously, then did a very creditable little villain chuckle.

“Fine,” he said, obviously amused and breaking out a pretty good sneer. “It’ll be worth it to have my…” This was accompanied by a dirty look at Keeper, who only stared straight ahead. His ‘I’m Just The Bartender’ game was strong. “… room for the Song Fair.”

“It’s a deal,” I said cheerfully. “I’ll just prove to you what I’ve got in my pocket, all right?” I held up my arm. “Nothing up my sleeve.”

This went over like a lead balloon. Oh, my precious pop-culture. I will have to make a seed of you, and grow you in good Laroha soil. These people know nothing. It’s sad.

“What? Never mind,” said the merchant. “Just show me the pouch full of irons you have so I can get on with my night.”

“No problem,” I said in the same cheerful voice. Digging in my pocket, I pulled out some coins and put my hand over the bar.

“Let’s see here,” I said, letting coins fall out one at a time. “One, two, three… six coppers…”

The merchant let out another ‘pfft’ sound and I really, really wanted to just open my hand. But the buildup was part of the game.

“And one… two… eight iron…”

This didn’t even rate a ‘pfft.’ He just gave me a “get on with it” look.

“Oh, I forgot, I had these… one, two… six silver.”

This did not get a sniff. Or a sneer. Or even a ‘pfft.’ It got a gasp. The merchant’s eyes grew wide. “What the…” I heard him mumble under his breath.

Oh, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet, Scrooge McDuck, I thought gleefully.

“Oh, and my lucky piece,” I said, as if only just now remembering. “I always have my lucky piece in my pocket.” I smiled pleasantly at the merchant, who just looked at me in disbelief.

When I dropped the gold coin on the bar, he swallowed wrong and started coughing and choking like I’d stuffed it down his throat.

“So,” I said, waiting for him to calm down and take a sip of the wine he had at his elbow. “One gold, six silver, six coppers and eight iron. That might be a little more than Keeper would have charged you, but you’re right, it is a really nice room. So it’s probably money well spent.”

I heard a strangled snort from my right, where Keeper was studying the glass he was polishing as if it contained the secrets of the Universe. I tried, and just succeeded, to stop myself from bursting into laughter.

“I…” The merchant seemed to be at a loss for words. “That is, I…”

“Thank you for not laughing at the pitiful state of my finances, by the way,” I said in the same cheerful voice. “You are a kind and honorable man.”

Once again, he seemed to be having trouble swallowing something. There was more coughing and choking. A few sips of the wine were required to even him out. By the time he could speak again he was very flushed and his eyes were big as saucers. I hadn’t felt so much like an isekai protagonist since I dealt with Garlic and Thud Boy.

“It… I mean, of course,” he said, sounding a little out of it. “I’m sorry I was so, er, aggressive, my lord, I didn’t realize you were a person of quality. Of course you should keep the room.”

I just looked shocked and gave him my best ‘Who, me?’ shrug.

“Me?” I said. “I’m no lord. Common as dirt, that’s me. Just a random traveler. But, if you don’t want the room…” I put the money back in my pocket, under the eyes of half the tavern. Conversation had come to a complete halt as soon as the merchant was snobby at me. He hadn’t noticed, or perhaps he thought it was because of him.

“Master Mage,” said Keeper in a voice so casual and innocent he must have honed it for every day of his twenty years in the Army. “Now that that’s settled, would you care to have your supper now? I’m sure Miranda has it ready for you.”

Oh, the look on the merchant’s face. It was every bit as golden as my ‘lucky piece.’ I did my best to commit it to memory. I wished I had my phone to take a picture of it.

Bless you, Keeper. I take back all the bad things I was thinking about you just now.

“Thank you, Keeper,” I said, my voice breaking just a touch as I fought the laughter. “That’d be great.” I sat down at the bar and looked around. The place was full up except for the seats at the bar Keeper always saved for me and Meg so we could eat together. He wanted to save a table, but I told him I liked the bar better.

“Won’t you join me, mister…?” I said to the merchant. I had a feeling Meg’s seat was in no danger.

“No, no, Master Mage, thank you for your kind invitation.” He looked at Keeper. “Do you have any rooms?” His voice was a lot less haughty and I snickered under my breath.

“I saved one for you, Mr. Marchand. I apologize that your regular room was taken, but I do value your custom.” Keeper gave him a polite businessman’s smile. The merchant almost fainted with relief.

“Thank you, Keeper,” he said with something approaching actual gratitude. “Could I take my supper in my room?”

“Of course, Mr. Marchand,” said Keeper. “I’ll have Meg bring it up.” He got a key from behind the bar. “Number twelve at the end of the hall. Sorry for the walk but it’s the last room we’ve got.”

“Quite all right, quite all right,” said the merchant, looking at me nervously as he grabbed the key. “Good evening to you, Master Mage.” He ducked his head and didn’t even wait for my response before taking off at a suspiciously fast walk for the stairs.

Once he was gone, Keeper set a mug of small beer in front of me and started laughing quietly. I tried to give him an innocent look like the one he’d given the merchant, but he had twenty years experience on me and I couldn’t do it. Soon I was leaning on the bar trying not to make a scene from laughing so hard I fell off my stool.

After I got it out of my system, Keeper said, “Master Chris, you really shouldn’t flash that much money around. Everyone in Pirisi knows of your power and how you handled two swordsmen without breaking a sweat…” This last sentence was pitched to carry a ways. “… but we have a lot of visitors in town who might not realize you are not a man to trifle with.”

God DAMMIT, I thought to myself furiously. I’ve been set up. The plot gods have got their hooks into me and somebody’s going to try to rob me only to be hilariously outmatched. Damn damn DAMN!

“Good advice,” I said to Keeper, loud and mostly proud.

I didn’t specify which part of it was good advice.