Harbend watched the queue where traders were paired two and two. They were already exchanging news and gossip with each other, a guffaw interjected from time to time to reward an especially juicy piece of information, but the man he'd been assigned seemed aloof.

At least most of this batch have been here before.

Each time an outworlder trader returned a little bit of color would be added to his or her garb, and those who'd been trading here for five years or more often wore clothes tailored in Verd and could easily have been mistaken for a local had it not been for the shiny information devices looking like decorated mirrors they all carried on their arms. And being a head taller than the rest of us, he added as an afterthought.

This time the sky ship had brought only two newcomers apart from Arthur. Their gray matching open jackets and narrow trousers were supposed to be very elegant attire where they came from, but when they finally arrived in Verd they would learn that only servants wore those colors. Well, that also left the question of Arthur. The man simply couldn't have been here before, but he could of course have learned how one was supposed to dress here. From there he must have proceeded to get it all horribly wrong.

Harbend kept his silence and watched the familiar process of Inquisition troops playing the part of customs officers, being just a little bit too arrogant in their attempts to humiliate the outworlder traders.

Grow up! We are the same all over the world, all over two worlds it would seem, he realized with amusement. As long as traders made money the treatment by lowly officials mattered little. Besides, all insults had to be translated and probably lost most in the process. Harbend wasn't sure all outworlder traders were even aware there had ever been an attempt at humiliation by someone they considered being beneath them anyway. He chuckled and stepped in line with Arthur.

#

They continued waiting while the sun set far too slowly. The heat combined with humidity soon made them sweat. The loss of water eventually had Arthur thirsty and with thirst came irritation.

After an eternity in the heat he was allowed to approach the tables. About to copy the motions of the traders he'd seen going through the procedure earlier the commanding officer suddenly blocked his way. A lengthy smattering of words followed a smug smile.

"He wants to know what your business is here," Harbend translated.

"That's not all of it, is it?" No bloody way that question takes a speech to deliver!

"We do not need to..."

"All of it, now!"

Harbend shrugged, showing surprise at the sudden edge of command in Arthur's voice. "If that is your wish. He asked why he should let a," he halted momentarily, "jester like you pass as you are obviously not a decent trader."

Arthur's irritation rose but he fought it down. The uniformed excuse for an untrained dog would pay later. "Tell them I trade in knowledge."

Harbend hastily obliged. The officer sniffed but seemed content with the answer.

Two bags were brought from a nearby table and emptied and the soldiers rummaged through its contents. They looked up in surprise when they didn't find any of the items they were used to see accompanying the visiting traders and were barely satisfied with checking the objects Arthur carried on his person. The bags were eventually loaded onto the waiting cart and the commander started waving Arthur through.

He didn't move and confronted the commander with a haughty smile.

You think I've been preoccupied enough to spend three hours without noticing the lack of efficiency you show? Military or no military, Arthur always kept a good eye for evaluating personnel, and the apes here had the stomach to insult him! I don't fear you. I don't fear anything any longer. You think you can threaten someone who dies every night? I'll teach you fear!

"I take it you're done with my luggage. Now, could your servants please proceed to check that my very clothes won't conjure a demon at my command?"

He received a blank stare in return, and Harbend hesitantly started to translate.

"Why do you anger the staff-master?" he asked when finished.

"I just dislike him. Could you just tell them to be quick about it?"

Harbend shrugged and complied. The man Harbend had identified as staff-master retorted, anger clearly heard in his voice and Arthur saw his eyes thinning and knew that the bait had been taken.

"He says you had better reconsider your attitude or they will confiscate your goods."

Arthur laughed softly, but he remembered the lesson he intended to teach the uniformed idiots facing him and kept most of his mirth to himself.

"Tell the staff-master he should show less interest in my goods and more care for his horses. Tell him that it would be unfortunate if all of his men had a riding accident later today."

Harbend gave Arthur a questioning look, suddenly looking afraid. "Why..."

"Just do it!"

When Harbend was finished the staff-master was white with rage, hand slowly searching at his side. Arthur stared the man in his eyes, smiling broadly and it was with grim satisfaction he saw rage giving way to fear. Mouth slightly open, eyes no longer able to keep contact, a nervous flicker of the nostrils. Yes! The pig would break.

"I don't have all day. Either check my clothes or tell your trash to get the hell out of my sight!" Arthur waved at the cart. "When I return next time I expect your lackeys to have a better vehicle waiting for me."

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Harbend looked at Arthur in frightened wonder and reluctantly translated. The effect was astonishing. All soldiers grabbed for their weapons, but when Arthur took one step forward they backed away realizing they no longer had the support of their own officer. Two of them looked around in bewilderment, but no help was to be found.

Arthur pointed at the cart. He growled a command he knew Harbend couldn't understand but the soldiers grasped the meaning of it and moved out of Arthur's range as if he had threatened them.

"Harbend, I guess we're on our way then," Arthur said and climbed the cart without turning his head.

Harbend ran to Arthur's side nervously looking over his shoulder, but the crossbow quarrel he seemed to expect never flew and they were soon driving towards the ridge. They had almost reached it before Harbend dared to break the silence.

"Did you come here to die?" Harbend yelled. "Are you carrying your funeral altar among your wares, or by the gods, what were you thinking of?"

Arthur gave him a pained look. "They needed a lesson in attitude. I was the teacher they waited for."

"But what was it all about? I saw the fear of death in their faces."

Arthur turned. "Oh, they were probably only embarrassed," he said.

"Embarrassed?" Harbend was still livid with fear and rage. "Gods, do not try that on me!"

"They should be. Some time ago troops from here reportedly experienced a riding accident. Official version, of course."

Arthur could hear short, heavy breaths slowly returning to normal. Harbend was calming down somewhat. "I heard about that. What happened?"

"The normal. They fell off their horses."

"How many?" Harbend asked.

Arthur glanced at the tanned face beside him. "Two thousand soldiers, all at the same time. All fatally. Very unfortunate."

Harbend was silent for a while. "That was still a dangerous thing to do," he said. "You have been here for less than a day and you already start making enemies."

Arthur didn't respond. Harbend was probably right, but Arthur had felt out of balance for a long while now. He was more concerned with his own lack of interest in what he saw, heard and smelled when arriving at a new world for the first time. He used to pay attention to his surroundings, but the last six months had passed as if wrapped in a blanket woven from strands of oblivion, and now he rarely bothered taking in what wasn't born from wrath. Danger, at least, made him feel alive.

But then, if he was to be honest, the men manning the gun towers would never have allowed any harm to come to the famous Arthur Wallman. Almost with regret he admitted that he had never been in any real danger.

#

Harbend noted how Arthur turned inwards again and spent the rest of the slow but shaky ride watching the red gravel on the road between the ears of the mule. He had calmed down by now but hoped the strange trader wouldn't bring an economic fiasco by behaving this way later, because that was something Harbend could not afford. News from Hasselden was troubled these days and he desperately needed money to stave off a threatening bankruptcy despite his trading skills allowing him to see bad times through this far. Either that or throw his two employees on the street, and honor forbade such an action.

The road continued into what at first sight looked like a cave but at a closer look was clearly man made. Gravel was replaced by concrete and daylight by lamplight. The train for Verd waited for them in the middle of the tunnel ready to run out to the farmlands west of the ridge. The air was heavy with the smell of smoke and soot.

"I'll be damned!" Arthur's voice told Harbend his fellow traveler had finally noticed one part of their ride was coming to an end.

"We are the last. We should enter," Harbend said.

"A locomotive, a real, honest, black, steam engine. I haven't seen one outside a theme park before. Three hours to the capital. No bloody wonder!"

"Still the fastest means of traveling in this part of the world. For the people living where we are going it is regarded as a mechanical wonder."

"Oh, the wonders of technology," Arthur answered scornfully as he mounted the stairs.

Harbend shrugged and climbed inside. He sat down by a window and with the tunnel being far cooler than the outside he immediately felt how soaked with sweat his clothes were. Greatly discomforted he adjusted his wet trousers.

A sudden tug suggested that the train had started. A distant rumble confirmed it and the lights in the tunnel slowly passed by.

After a short while they were out in the open again and Harbend leaned backwards watching the landscape change character. The ridge marked the western border of the small territory given to the outworlders and on this side of it farmsteads, planted fields and herds of grazing horses and cattle made a stark contrast to the barren lands surrounding the sky port. The large herds of horses played a vital part in Keen's dominance over the region. Not only were they a necessity for the cavalry but they also kept the all-important trade alive. Keen thrived on craft and trade. Much more so than his homeland in distant Khi.

Thinking of home made him strangely depressed. Even though coastal defenses and an exceptional army made any invasion attempt impossible, Keen's lack of a strong navy left the raiders masters of the sea. That effectively cut his chances to pay his home a visit, not to speak of trading.

As they passed more fields he noted that harvest would come shortly, detachments of soldiers helping farmers during the busy harvest days already marching through the villages. With harvest completed an eightday of frantic celebrations awaited the farmers. It was tradition. Verd celebrated its own version of the festival.

He turned to Arthur only to find he'd already fallen asleep. Harbend smiled. A long day already and it wasn't over yet. He decided to steal a few hours of sleep himself.