Chapter Nine
A banquet has beenlaid out in our honor, a party for those who survived the sheriff’s reign. The guests in attendance are my mercenaries, officials who served under the sheriff, and a small number of soldiers who have been judged to be potential allies. It is not a large gathering, but it is an interesting one.
“I thought we were waiting for one of your fifteen clients to come and take over from you here.”
“We’re laying the groundwork,” Silver says. “It doesn’t hurt to have allies in various places.”
Something political is taking place, I don’t understand it, but it seems to me that several of these mercenaries have more than mercenary aspirations. Zen and Keanau and Tore are spending a great deal of time talking to various officials, men who do not seem sad to see the sheriff gone.
The men are very well dressed. Apparently they packed suits along with their mercenary armor. Seven men in three-piece suits from the pre-Event time make for quite a distraction for my wandering eye. Tore made me a woman earlier. Now my body wants more, craves more.
Silver and Alexios stay close to me, guarding me. There are many who wish to speak to me here. Those invited have the self-control to avoid throwing themselves at me, and would not dare to touch me.
I find myself having a conversation for the first time in my adult life that does not revolve around being captured or bred. A man who says he is from the ministry of finance is telling me about something he seems to find fascinating: interest-bearing bonds.
It sounds like something my father would have said only as a curse, but apparently governments would let people give them money in return for pieces of paper called bonds, on which they would get more money.
“For what though?”
“For giving money.”
“But what could the bond be used for? Was it edible?”
“No,” he smirks. “It was a tool by which governments could raise capital from private citizens, in addition to income taxes...”
I draw back, my face flushing. “How dare you speak to me that way!”
Alexios and Silver weren’t listening to the conversation overly closely. They were scanning the room for signs of trouble, but at my outraged gasp, they both pay a great deal more attention.
“What is it?” Alexios growls, his expression fierce as he looks at the hapless gray-haired official.
“He said...” I lower my voice to a whisper, “income taxes...”
“Okay?”
“That’s the worst thing you can say to anyone! Man or woman! My father only said it once when a wolverine broke into our cabin and savaged our winter supplies. I demand an apology!”
“Income taxes aren’t...”
“He said it again!”
“Those aren’t bad words... I mean, they’re bad, but not in that way,” Silver explains patiently.
“They killed my father.”
“Income taxes killed your father?”
“Stop saying that!”
“Sorry, sorry,” Silver says, seeing my distress. Tears are beginning to fill my eyes. I am starting to shake. I try very, very hard not to think about the last day I saw my father, but the memory has been triggered in vivid detail. Silver and Alexios draw me away from the party, to a small quiet room nearby.
“What’s wrong? Tell us.” Alexios rubs my shoulders, while Silver crouches down in front of me, fixing me with that gaze of his that makes me feel funny inside.
“Stop doing your eye tricks!”
“It’s not a trick, I’m just helping you to calm down,” he says soothingly. “Tell us what has you so upset.”
“They chased us. They used to always chase us.”