The train came to a staggering halt, waking Arthur from his uneasy slumber. He shuddered. Sleep had brought him another of the nightmares plaguing him the last half a year or so. By now he didn't even try to avoid sleeping. There was simply no escape, only a prolonged wait for the torment.

He stretched his limbs and looked outside, forcing himself to register his surroundings. They had stopped at what could at best be described as a train station. Rather than a proper platform he saw a paved road where people were milling around between carts and carriages.

Through the open windows he heard voices in the local language and the air was filled with the smell of horses and sweat. The sun had set and the scenery was lit by lamps and torches adding little light and just a bit too much smell.

Noticing that Harbend was no longer present he left the compartment. Resolve wavered and when he climbed out of the wagon he was once again immersed in his inner world of horrors, paying very little attention to the frantic chaos surrounding him.

#

Harbend paid a couple of the uniformed porters to haul Arthur's luggage onto a small wagon and then gave them directions for delivery. He'd jumped off the train before it stopped to ensure their entering the city as quickly as possible. The train station was brimming with people trying to sell their services to weary travelers, their numbers multiplied tenfold by passengers from the villages they had called on during the ride to Verd.

A man grabbed his arm. "Snacks, sir. Roast pork. Good for you after a long day."

Harbend shook him off. He didn't have the time at the moment. Later, maybe, at a decent place.

He neatly sidestepped anyone who tried to sell him food or small trinkets and began the task of making sure Arthur's goods were registered and delivered to the outworlders' independent warehouse. Harbend, along with all independent merchants as well as the smaller trading houses couldn't afford warehouses of his own.

It was at that time he learned that Arthur, alone of all outworlder traders, had brought no goods except what was contained in small crates rather than the oblong containers used to store metal.

Angrily he made his way back to the train only to find Arthur standing on the road totally oblivious to what was happening around him.

"Excuse me, sir. We have yet to find you lodging for the night." The words had the effect Harbend wanted and he led his disorientated client to their waiting carriage.

#

Arthur allowed himself to be dragged to an enclosed wagon, a wooden contraption with a multitude of leather straps connecting it to a pair of horses.

He smirked. It was clear that each step of his journey decreased the level of technology available, but keeping his thoughts to himself he climbed inside the wagon. To his surprise he found himself seated on comfortable, padded leather. When they started moving he learned that unlike the cart they rode earlier this wagon was equipped with decently efficient shock absorbers. Sitting inside the carriage he barely noticed when they passed through the outer gates.

The carriage stopped and he heard muted voices apparently coming to some form of agreement and then they continued. Here great lamps above them lit the streets with a warm, yellow light. As they rode on he was slightly surprised by the size of the city and the height of the stone houses flanking its streets.

People strolled along the sidewalks, some clad in garbs much like his own and some in clothes far more discreet. But for the ever-present noise of horses and wagons he could almost have believed himself in one of the holiday cities in central Europe where tourists flocked to enjoy living out history for a week or two. That and brightly uniformed soldiers strolling around in pairs or small groups, ugly weapons within easy reach.

They stopped again. The doors opened and Arthur stepped down a wooden block with carved stairs that must have been placed there but moments earlier. Harbend followed behind him and paid the driver.

"Sir Wallman, we have arrived at Two Worlds, the best hotel in the city," Harbend said weighing a pouch of coins in his hand.

"Two Worlds?"

"It was renamed some years ago."

"I see."

Arthur gave the building an appraising look. It was a six stories monstrosity built of red granite and white marble. He felt as if confronted with an unusually failed replica of a city palace from imperial Vienna a thousand years earlier. Gaudy as a Martian palace in all its pink, vulgar splendor.

He shook his head and doing so he saw his own reflection staring back at him from the inlaid mirrors in the grand wooden doors facing him.

"I thought you would feel more like home here, sir."

"Now, what the..." Suddenly aware of his own clothes and hairstyle he blushed slightly before fully enjoying the elaborate joke played on him and laughed loudly. "We're most definitely beginning to understand each other."

He walked to the doors, waited for them to open and remembered where he was. Just as he was about to push them open they were pulled inwards and a boy in silk livery the color of sun dried bricks raced out to pick up their bags.

Arthur entered. The hall was indeed as resplendent as the exterior suggested, with two great marble staircases curving up to the second floor and a huge, ostentatious chandelier providing most of the light. Statues, paintings and the occasional richly ornamented lamp cluttered the walls, and the sheer amount of massive stone kept it cool even in summer heat.

No one there except the uniformed guards who had opened the door.

The porter didn't return and Arthur assumed the rest of his luggage was carried in through some back door. Harbend passed to his right and climbed the stairs, and Arthur, not knowing what else to do, simply followed.

The hotel, after he awkwardly made peace with its gaudiness, turned out to be first class; his suite as luxurious as anything he'd experienced at home with the obvious technological implementations lacking. It more than made up for it with everything made from the finest natural materials he could imagine.

Arthur left Harbend in the living room and went in search of a bathroom. It welcomed him with the surprise of having running water. Peeling off his clammy clothes he realized just how sweaty they had become.

He spent a wonderful half an hour in a tub of hot water, a luxury unavailable for several months. Finally satisfied he got up and dried himself. With a feeling of relief he entered the bedroom, toweled body still steaming from the hot bath.

He hadn't brought a formal business suit and settled for a pair of green, knee length trousers, an orange bolero with tails and his best red silken shirt. Happy with the outfit he still suspected he'd better buy clothes here unless he wanted to draw too much attention to himself. The day wasn't over yet and with that knowledge lingering in his mind he resolutely threw the doors wide open and walked into the living room.

Harbend waited for him there, as did the crates, hoisted onto a large hardwood table and Arthur wondered how the porters had managed hauling them up the stairs.

It was probably time to convince Harbend to sell off the token trading goods contained in the crates. Paying Harbend a little extra for the trouble wouldn't hurt neither.

"Time for business?"

"If any," Harbend answered unhappily from the chair where he sat.

"I'll open the boxes so you can evaluate the worth of what I have to sell."

"Do so."

Arthur chose not to take note of the tension in Harbend's voice.

"Well, start with this one I think." Arthur leaned over the table and put a hand to the lock. The lid sprung open and revealed an uneven surface of brown leather.

Harbend rose and stepped closer. "What is it?"

"Books. I had some works converted into bound paper some years ago when I played with the thought of coming here the first time, but there never seemed to be time enough."

"Books?"

"Yes, I have dictionaries, works on grammar, etymology and other academic works in the field of linguistics."

"Excuse me, I fail to understand."

Arthur thought for a while before facing Harbend. "I have books where words are defined. I've also brought books explaining the rules and history of my language. On top of that there are a few works on our view of how languages work and develop within scope of the society they exist in."

Harbend was silent at first. "And all in paper?" A smile slowly spread over his face.

"Yes. I was told you had a written language. Taking into consideration your level of technology I assumed that pages or rolls of text would be easier to sell than the equipment we use at home."

"Indeed. It will bring a good price, far better than you think." There was nothing left of Harbend's sullen disappointment now.

#

Harbend brightened at the thought of selling this very first batch of written insight in how the outworlders thought. Almost reverently he picked up one of the volumes and caressed its smooth leather.

Slightly smaller in size than he was used to, less than two hands high and just about one hand wide. Title printed both on the cover as well as on the back.

He carefully opened it. The paper was dull but of very fine quality and the peculiar structure of the writing made him guess he was holding a catalog of words.

The cargo would bring a good price, probably better than the normal load of metal he'd initially expected to handle for his client. "And you have five crates full of this?" he asked, slowly letting out a long breath of air. Here was splendid profit waiting to be made.

"No," Arthur said opening another crate, "I thought I might need something more easily converted to money here to cover my expenses."

Harbend stared at the contents of the crate, mouth wide open. "What, what... Do you have any idea how much..."

"No, as a matter of fact I don't. I haven't had to think about money the last twenty years, and I wanted to make sure I brought enough valuables not to start now."

Harbend stared at the riches displayed before him. Bars of gold, silver and platinum neatly stacked between small cases he almost certainly knew were filled with jewelry, most probably sorted by either value or material. "You have brought enough to buy a large town including all farms supporting it."

"Oh, it doesn't represent such a fortune where I come from," Arthur answered silently.

#

Still cataloging the last of the merchandise Arthur finally noted that Harbend must have taken the opportunity to get washed and change clothes before coming back here. The generous mass of black hair was tied into a knot on the left side of his head and he wore a pair of dark blue silk trousers glittering with an almost metal sheen. A white linen shirt hiding under a crimson, waist length jacket, glimmering as if alive, completed the outfit.

I'd bloody better start to pay more attention to what's happening around me.

He forced himself to stay alert for a while longer. "Harbend, can you sell this?"

"Of course, even though I fail to understand your need for money."

"Because I'm supposed to be a trader. If I start spending loads of money here then I guess I should make a show of having earned it first."

Harbend smiled and bowed ever so slightly. "That is the spirit of a true merchant. Yes, I will help you get the best possible price for your books. They do represent a fortune after all," he finished, still caressing a leather bound volume in his hands.

Now there was a man mentally preparing for the negotiations to follow. Harbend probably enjoyed that part almost as much as the money involved. Arthur was well aware of the fact that no one had ever brought books here before, and that in itself ought to make it all the more interesting.

"I shall take a commission. Eh, one fifth?"

Arthur grinned happily. He'd played this game early in his career and been quite good at it. "One part of twenty."

"That is not a commission, and you know it. One sixth."

"Now, that's robbery. Sure, I need you translating for me, so I might accept one out of sixteen."

"One part in seven."

"One out of twelve, net only and you have an agreement."

Harbend's face clouded. "Now wait a moment. Gods! You are a cunning one. I shall be satisfied with one part of eight, and that does not cover what I am paying for your living."

Should I continue? No. I need a happy contact planet side. Arthur laughed and accepted the offer.

Harbend tried to look dismayed but they both knew the deal would still earn him a lot more than he usually did and he joined Arthur's laugh.

"I bid you a good night then. We have work to do tomorrow," Harbend said, bowed and left the room.

Alone again Arthur felt the weight of the hour. He carefully closed his crates and, stifling a yawn, entered his bedroom.

#

Arthur wandered through the corridors fruitlessly searching for a place serving breakfast. He'd all but given up when he recognized the youngster who'd taken his bags the day before. On the verge of asking for directions he remembered that any question would be as unintelligible as whatever answer he was provided with and decided to return to his rooms.

Harbend waited for him, wearing the same clothes as last night, but in addition he had donned a long robe, a blue as dark as night with traces of silver lining the edges. He held a soft, black hat in his hands.

"You're up early. I just had my morning meal, but seeing you returning here I assume you've had breakfast," Harbend said rising from the chair closest to the crates.

"As a matter of fact I haven't. I couldn't find the dining room."

"Dining room? This is not a tavern." Harbend frowned. "But excuse me. You must be starved. I shall arrange for your meal. There is still plenty of time." Harbend walked behind the table and pulled a rope Arthur hadn't noticed the night before. "A servant will come shortly. I shall order an assortment of different courses. Later you may make it known what you prefer."

Arthur said nothing and sat down on a couch close to the windows. There wasn't much he could do but wait, and the prospect of food kept him in eager apprehension.

In the morning, with sunlight flooding through the generously sized windows, the room took on an altogether different character. The marble and granite almost blended into each other, and where the dark furniture had seemed forbidding last night they were merely stout with a peculiar grace making them come alive. Thick carpets lay strategically placed wherever he would most likely have chosen to stand or walk.

Harbend gently tapped his shoulder and Arthur turned.

"The food is here. You should eat."

Arthur looked around. He'd been so preoccupied with his own thoughts he hadn't noticed anyone entering the room. And exiting, he realized. They were alone again, but a table closer to the bedroom was set with platters, bowls, jugs and bottles. A generous heap of bread and fruit sat in the center accompanied by meat and pies he'd normally have preferred far later in the day.

He sat down, eager to try the delicacies of the world. He'd never been afraid to try new cuisine and with great appetite ate his way through the choices available.

One platter with what he first thought was meat turned out to be some kind of pickled fish, a surprisingly fresh way to start the day. The bread mostly of a white type he knew from home, but a few slices were a dark brown, rich in taste and with small pieces of dried fruit sweetening it. No butter, but a wide variety of thick, spicy sauces functioned as tasty substitutes. Sausages a bit bland, some almost tasteless and he made a mental note to avoid them in the future. Milk, and what seemed to be yogurt tasted and smelled the way he expected.

Automatically searching for a pot that wasn't there he sorely missed something hot to replace the nonexistent coffee. He tried a bit of the weak wine but it was too early in morning for him to appreciate it, and he finished his meal by pocketing a couple of apples before rising from his chair.

He nodded happily to Harbend. "Thank you. Never start a day on an empty stomach, you know," Arthur said, feeling content.

Harbend gave the table an appraising look. By now he should know what fares to avoid. "Well, I guess we are on our way then," he said. "You need not worry about your crates. Porters are already sent for and I have marked the four I assume you want to bring."

"Ah, perfect. On our way then?"

They left the same way they had arrived the evening before.

A coach waited for them when they entered the street. Harbend must have taken care of that detail as well.