With Her majesty directly behind the guy, she was in the perfect position to allow Goodie to both watch him as well as those idiots from earlier as they walked off.

He was still fuming over their little chat. There were few things that he hated more than some arseshytes blatantly trying to use him. Why did people think that sort of shit was okay?

Did they think he was stupid? That he would not know that they were trying to use him. He was not ignorant enough to say that no one would be that stupid, but what made people assume that he was?

Why? What was the point of that stupid fucking game? If you want something, why could you not just come up to a person, express and explain what it is you want, and then present an offer for that person’s services, or at least explain to them why they should consider providing their services for free. Simple, honest, and no one has to waste their time on stupid social rituals that make no sense.

But no, people always had to put on a little bullshit show of pretending to be your friend. A show that both relied on and assumed that you were a complete idiot. That last part was what really pissed him off the most.

He did not like that people wanted to use him either, but he understood that that was a necessity. People were a social species and society based off of needing each other to provide goods and services. If they did not need him, then they would not have approached in the first place and that scenario would have at least had them offering an impersonal offer of payment for services rendered, not whatever the fuck they called that bullshit back.

What had to go through their minds to convince them that he would have ever agreed to a deal where he did all the work and they got to screw him over before taking all the rewards?

Why was he obsessing about all of this when there was a guy in front of him that was probably here to kill him?

As Goodie walked towards the man he took the opportunity to observe in greater detail.

He was still wearing the same floppy cowboy hat that he had seen earlier.

His clothes were that of a commoner in style, but as Goodie got closer he notices that the quality was superior to the clothing that one would normally find in the market place, even back in the city.

By the man’s side was a sword, not a short sword as it was too long, but not long enough to be considered a long sword. A…what was it called? A bastard sword.

Aside from a leather cuirass, he wore no armour, leaving him with too many openings to be considered a real threat, even by Goodie’s standards, which would normally include anything that could see him, but with Her Majesty backing him up, he was sure that he could handle him.

Or was that what he was supposed to think?

Goodie realised then just how exposed he was as he considered that all it would take was one well-placed sniper and he would be dead before anyone knew what had happened.

Maybe this was all a distraction so that the other groups could work their way around him as he had Her Majesty do. He checked to see whether or not the other groups had made a move towards him.

Where were the thieves?!

The guards were still here. So why were the thieves gone? Where had they gone?

Goodie stopped himself from looking round. Giving away his awareness of their absence might force them to act early, he needed to find them.

He tried to think!

Her Majesty! Should he have her bite this prick? No, that could also force the others to react, even give them the excuse to swarm the place to help a poor man who fell down. He could not do anything until he knew where the thieves had gone.

Could he afford to send her off, to find them? He was wearing his full set of armour? Far more than the man before him.

He could not attack the man without Her Majesty’s assistance…oh, who was he kidding, he could not attack him at all without her here to do it for him…no, but he could run into the crowds, hide behind his fellow Earthers.

“Fuck!”, he swore under his breath as he asked her to find the bastards.

He turned his attention back to the man in front of him.

“That’s far enough!”

The man halted, then stuttered out a greeting in English.

“Ger…Greeting…young…noble…sir”

The accent was thick and the way he spoke suggested that he had not been speaking the language for long.

“Not a noble.”

“Ah”, he nodded his head in response.

The guy was too quick to respond, too unphased by his dismissal of the guy’s assumption. He knew Goodie was not a noble, no foreigner was and even if they were, the locals would not have acknowledged their title. The guy was trying to butter him up.

Another arseshyte that assumed he was an idiot. The day was already made longer by the heat, but if he had to deal with any more of these arseholes it was going to become endless.

The man then began the local tradition of using as many words as possible to say absolutely nothing.

Oh, for fuck’s sake, he thought, if the guy was going to kill him, he could at least have had the decency to do it in some way other than trying to bore him to death.

The only thing he got was the guy’s name Sael and that he was here as a representative of some merchants, Goodie’s attention being far more focused on his link with her Majesty. Her search of the ground, finding no sign of the thieves that had just so recently infested the place.

“We did not mean to intrude upon you…we saw you with a book at the table with food…and my better would request that payment for your teachings be offered.”

Table with what? The only thing Goodie had eaten at a table recently was the meat he brought yesterday, were these pricks spying on him?

No!

The merchants? That was where he saw this guy! The other day in the inn, with Eric. Goodie vaguely recalled seeing a group of merchants that had sat at one of the tables.

“To teach you what?”, he asked. With the thieves gone and the guards still being incompetent, Goodie willing to entertain that this ‘Sael’ was not here to kill him, but if not that, then why did he want him? What could he possibly teach that this guy’s employer would be willing to pay for? As much as he thought it was interesting, he doubted that this guy would want to know about the thirteen aspects of management games.

The man seemed to struggle with what he had to say next, “The understanding of the picture meaning”, he mimed reading a book before continuing, “the picture of sound?”

“You want me to teach you to read?”, he asked sceptically. The reason being that the city actively sought to teach every merchant that visited it to English.

“How did you learn our language?”, he asked Sael.

“From the Alice of Ohio who is an adventurer I learnt to speak the language of your people.”

“Okay?”, a reasonable explanation, but it just as easily have been a lie, a cover story to help the man get close enough to put a knife in Goodie’s Face.

“Look…”, he continued, “…you don’t need me to teach you. Your lot are all merchants, right?”

Sael agreed after a running the words through his head.

“Just go to the city, once you get there, head to the centre of information and ask for the department of city outreach and cultural integration.”

The man’s face went blank as he tried to process all the words Goodie had just used.

“You don’t need to remember it; they’ll direct you to it when you introduce yourself to them. The city wants everyone to know our language and they’re far better teachers than I would be. They’ll even teach you for free, seeing as you’re merchants.”

Goodie could have used the money that this guy was offering, but the time and effort that it would have taken to teach just him was more than he could afford to spare, let alone the rest of the merchants that had been sitting at that table. Also, he was still unsure as to whether or not this guy was legit.

He was not about to invite a knife to the back, especially when he still did not know where those thieves had run off to.

Her Majesty had already scoured the grounds three times since he and Sael had begun talking. Goodie’s only option now was to decide if he should have her search the village. His curiosity getting the better of him, he sent her off, but warning her to avoid going near Mr. Mayor. He still did not know what type of magic that prick possessed.

Mr. Sael…he had a proper, longer name, but Goodie would be arsed if was gonna spend all day repeating it…thanked him in the most drawn-out way possible, then left. Presumedly, to talk to his employers.

Goodie watched him leave to see if he would try to double back. Maybe he should not have sent Her Majesty of so quickly? Without her, the guy would simply have to leave Goodie’s line of sight, then he would be able to do as he pleased.

“Whatever!”, he sighed.

He started walking back to his truck-waggon, not just to escape the heat, but having to deal with that bunch of pricks from before, then Sael, it was just too much.

He had walked for a few minutes, his mobile-home in sight, constantly checking his surroundings. Still no sign of the thieves or Sael. Even the guard had not followed him. Most likely because even they were not incompetent enough to reveal themselves by leaving the area.

“The meeting ground!” he let out.

He had gone there for a reason, the briefing that they were supposed to have received from waggon masters.

He turned and raced back, swearing as he ran.