Punish Them in My Place (14)
I rushed to the backyard, wondering what the hell was going on. There stood Ukun, planted firmly in front of the massive head of Lurtjog, swinging his hammer and saw while bellowing at the top of his lungs.
"Get the fuck outta here! Right now!"
His ferocious momentum made the robed figures hesitate and fall back. Pelle and Atergar were watching Ukun's rampage from a safe distance.
"Who are they?"
"People from the palace."
"The palace?"
As I appeared, Ukun whipped his head toward me. "Perfect timing, Bertrand! These bastards want Lurtjog's head!"
"No, not 'hand it over,' sir. We're offering to purchase it legally by paying the proper amount."
"Grahhh! The very idea of buying a dragon's head with money is absurd!"
Faced with Ukun's bullheaded attitude, the palace folks shot me troubled looks. "You're the innkeeper, right? Could you calm this dwarf down? He won't even talk to us properly."
"What do you mean 'talk' when you're spouting nonsense...!"
I raised a hand to silence Ukun and asked, "Why are you here from the palace? You look like mages—are you?"
"Yes. We've come to acquire that Lurtjog corpse."
"Suddenly?"
"Not suddenly... We came straight here on Her Majesty's orders."
"Her Majesty's orders... What's that about?"
The lead mage reached into his robe and rummaged around, pulling out a tightly rolled sheet of paper. It bore a fancy seal and elegant script—clearly an official palace document. He unrolled it and showed it to me as he answered.
Pay the gold coins and deliver the entire corpse of Lurtjog to the palace.
Elua? Buying Lurtjog's corpse? What kind of nonsense was this?
"I see...? Well, Brione did stop by not long ago, but there was no talk of that."
"Ah, Her Majesty made the decision after receiving Brione's report. So it was after Brione's visit here."
Of course Brione had reported everything to Elua. Who else would approve that brazen plan to trap the refugees here and force me to intervene with Atergar? Reporting the results to the final decision-maker was only natural.
"I understand. But what does the palace plan to do with it...? Anyway. If they want the whole thing, that includes the head, right?"
"Finally, someone we can talk to."
The mages glanced at Ukun with visible relief. Yeah... the palace buying a dragon corpse... Strictly speaking, I didn't officially own Lurtjog. To outsiders, it looked like Atergar had killed him in a monster-on-monster fight. But the two who'd seen the corpse—Brione and Lambert—knew I was involved. Brione obviously, and Lambert probably suspected. Everyone else (including Hildeva) didn't even know where it was now. Plus, with no official intervention, it was a monster duel—hard for the palace or the direct territory to claim ownership. Sure, since it happened in the direct territory, they could demand it... but Hildeva wouldn't, and the palace knew I'd killed it—they wouldn't be crazy enough to steal it outright. So implicitly, the palace was acknowledging me as the owner and trying to make a deal.
"Dragon byproducts fetch high prices, though. Buying a full adult specimen whole... How much gold did you bring?"
"Two thousand gold coins. Full payment in cash, right here."
"Wha... what?! Two thousand gold coins?!"
Ukun, who'd been sulking with his lips pursed, let out a thunderous roar. Pelle, Atergar, and the other employees eavesdropping from hiding all jumped in shock. Two thousand gold coins... lump sum, no installments... Even rough math showed it wasn't a loss for me. If we dissected it meticulously and sold every piece at full value, we might make more than two thousand. But that assumed selling every bone perfectly. Factor in the labor and time, could I pocket more than two thousand anytime soon alone? Answer: no. And it'd require me, Ukun, Pelle, and maybe Idwild—disrupting inn and bathhouse ops. Part of me wanted to take the two thousand right now. But I wasn't a hero anymore; I was an innkeeper merchant. And bargaining was merchant basics.
"Hmm... Selling a dragon I risked my life for at pocket change doesn't sit right."
"Are you insane, Balder...? Two thousand! Not two hundred—two thousand!"
Ukun growled low behind me. "Two thousand is big money, sure... but I guess you came all this way for nothing."
Just when they'd escaped the stubborn dwarf and thought they could negotiate, my response drained the hope from their faces. They huddled, whispering rapidly.
"We understand your position, sir. It's Her Majesty's command, but only to buy at fair market value... Yes. Understood."
A dimensional gate opened behind the mages. Shoulders slumped in failure of their queen-given mission, they filed through one by one. The moment it closed, the employees swarmed me.
"Master! Did you hit your head falling from somewhere?!"
"Bertrand... Two thousand could build another inn..."
"If Bertrand says no, nothing we can do."
"Hng... Two thousand... Such a waste..."
"You crazy bastard!"
Ukun and the staff reacted in their own ways—berating or sympathizing. "Everyone, back to work."
I dismissed them all, brushing off the reactions. If Elua herself—not some minister—had decided to buy the corpse, this was a gamble with winning odds. Because Elua was...
"Sir."
The dimensional gate reopened; the mages returned. Faster than expected. I stood still, watching them pull out heavy pouches.
"Three thousand gold coins. Converted to Abyssal gold. Her Majesty has revised the offer: you keep the head as a memento, and we buy the rest of the corpse for three thousand."
"Guhk?!"
Ukun choked, dropping his hammer. Pelle glared murderously at him, nearly crushing her foot.
"What do you say, sir? As mages who've handled rare materials, I can tell you: circulating the byproducts yourself won't net this much profit."
I chuckled inwardly at the lab-bound mage talking profits. Someone—probably Brione or the intel chief—had advised him. The head excluded for three thousand... People often misunderstood: dragon parts were priceless. Not true. Dragons were rare, but the parts had no special effects. Scales sold for durability, bones, horns, teeth for crafts—but meat? Taking three thousand cash now was basically a premium. Nominally a corpse purchase, but really Elua paying hazard pay for handling troublesome Lurtjog. Refusing the queen's grace further would be rude; time to accept graciously.
"Fine. Deal."
The mage handed me the pouch without fuss. Its weight screamed three thousand kingdom gold in Abyssal coins.
"Farewell, then."
They vanished in flashes—no gate needed for the nearby ruined castle where Lurtjog lay dead. Far beyond Marim's basic Blink; true teleportation magic.
As the mages vanished, Ukun urged me to open the pouch. "Count it yourself. Make sure."
He snatched the flying pouch and counted the Abyssal gold pieces. "Fuck me... Never seen this much Abyssal gold in my life..."
Even Pelle sneaked behind to peek. "It's right. Three thousand kingdom gold equivalent. With this..."
"Done counting? Hand it over."
I snatched it back from the reluctant dwarf and stashed it away. "When can we mount the head on the outer wall? Tonight if possible."
"Probably tonight. That lizard bitch needs to transform to lift this monster."
True. Atergar shifting in broad daylight would flip the city again. I turned to her standing awkwardly off to the side like a fifth wheel.
"Come here. Let's talk."
"What about? If it's threats again..."
"Nothing like that. About how you'll live from now on. Follow me."
Atergar eyed me suspiciously but trailed after me into the inn with quick steps. Straight to my third-floor room, where she stood by the door, squinting and spouting nonsense.
"Look at this, look. Dragging me to his room. Knew it. You finally lost it to lust, huh? Got all excited spanking my butt..."
"Haha... Still haven't learned, crazy dragon? Need another beating?"
She scurried inside and plopped on the bed. Ash from her pants dirtied the sheets, wrinkling my brow.
"Ugh, that... Sigh."
I sat in the chair with a heavy sigh. Fine... By dragon years, she was still a kid this year. Once she hit adulthood—full grown—no mercy. Come to think of it, year's end wasn't far. Arms crossed, Atergar grumbled arrogantly.
"Spit it out. I wanna go back to my nest."
"Was gonna talk about your nest anyway."
"What about it."
"Any treasure stashed in the Myanfeld nest?"