Myth 18 - MythChief Asprin, Robert (urban books to read TXT) 📖

tell that Bobbie Jo was more than inter-​ested. Even the disapproving Hirame was agog though he tried not to show he was listening.

“Of course, you may honor anyone else you like by ad-​mitting them to the Cake ceremony,” I said, with a nod to-​ward Hirame. The disapproving stare became just a little less glassy. There's nothing that can pry open a wallet, I mused, like the chance to experience something exclusive and mysterious. “The princess would consider it a pleasure to share an intimate part of her culture out of gratitude to those who helped her regain her patrimony.”

“Nicely put, Skeeve,” Bobbie Jo said with a grin. “It's been a good year. I think we can squeeze out a little some-​thing, can't we, Hirame?”

“I do believe it is possible, Chief,” Hirame said, straight-​ening up with his crest erect on his head. “Great!” I exclaimed. “So, may I tell Hermalaya that you would like to have her here soon?” “Tomorrow wouldn't be soon enough,” Bobbie Jo said. “Massha, you've got to stay and see it with me.” “I'd love to,” Massha said. “So, it's settled.”

“There's just one condition.” I stared at her in alarm. She pointed. “I want a copy of that scroll. I haven't cried that much in ages. That's better than most of the novels in my library.”

“I'll ask the princess, but I'm sure she'll have no prob-​lem with that,” I said, jubilantly. That also gave me an amazing idea for publicizing the princess's situation.

“Great! In that case, we look forward to welcoming her.” She stood up, and I understood that my audience was at an end. No matter. I couldn't wait to get back and tell Her-​malaya the good news.

Myth 18 - MythChief

SEVENTEEN

“I promise you'll get the royal treatment.” ROBESPIERRE

The Cake ceremony in Octaroo went off without a single problem. Hermalaya was given free rein over the castle kitchens, and turned out a cake that outdid her previous efforts. The royal purple icing decorations seemed to defy gravity. Bobbie Jo and her fellow clan chiefs were dazzled by the rituals as

well as the food. As a courtesy to her fel-​low monarch, I was invited to participate in the event. I did better than the locals in Pin-​the-​tail-​on-​the-​Dragon, but I was far outclassed in Musical Chairs. The seats had to be placed several yards apart so that the Octaroobles weren't able to cover several at once in anticipation of the music ceasing, and I just couldn't keep up. Not that I minded. I was getting used to the spiderlike characteristics of my hosts, but I was just as happy to get out of their way. In an effort to win, they threw hanks of web at one another when their hostess wasn't looking or stretched out those long legs to trip each other. Hermalaya, as always, held herself with extreme dignity.

Neither of us knew for certain whether Bobbie Jo would

add a little to the beleaguered Foxe-​Swampburg treasury, but we hoped for the best. At my suggestion Hirame brought in a small box tied with ribbons to be presented to Hermalaya at the conclusion of the ceremony. It would contain whatever gold coinsor none at allthat she chose to donate to Hermalaya. I was aware my contest with Aahz relied on what the nobles contributed, but I just couldn't bring myself to sully the moment with the men-​tion of money. I was just as sure that wouldn't stop Aahz. I had to be me, though. I wouldn't do just what he would do to win.

When they emerged from the ceremonial chamber clutching their tiny boxes filled with magik glitter dust, everybody was in a great mood. They couldn't stop talking about the experience. When Hermalaya completed the last, private elements of ceremony and came out into the main hall, they gave her a round of hoots, the local equivalent of applause.

“Why, thank you all,” Hermalaya said, beaming at all of them. She looked weary but happy.

“I believe that even the Homdom of Benos has never been transported like that,” one of the chiefs exclaimed. “Marvelous!”

“I bet he'd love it,” Bobbie Jo said. “Here, let me give you a letter of introduction to him.” She sent a page scut-​tling away for paper and ink.

“If I may make a suggestion,” Hirame said, raising one furry finger. He had a streak of purple icing on his cheek. One taste of Hermalaya's layer cake had made him a firm ally of all things Reynardan. “Sebellum Oatis might be interested in such an experience.”

“Who's he?” Massha asked.

“Well, he's not a monarch or world leader, though we've hosted him here a bunch of times,” Bobbie Jo said. “He's stinking rich. He's in agriculture. He raises choconuts.”

“That Oatis?” I asked. I had eaten choconuts. They were an absolutely addictive confection for sale in most civilized dimensions. “I didn't realize they were grown. I thought they were manufactured.”

“No, sir, purely natural,” Hirame said. “My cousin is his chief financial officer. Oatis has over four million acres on Pocalis. If you are looking for. . . monetary emolu-​ments ... he is someone you should approach.”

“The Tanager family would love to meet you,” a male chief boomed out.

“Lord Fetzafhe's the chancellor of the exchequer of Simelian,” an elderly chief suggested. “The Satnos of Simelian's gone completely senile. Fetzaf's been running the place for years. He LOVES cake.”

Everybody else chimed in with suggestions. Herma-​laya, Massha, Nunzio and I left with a pile of introduc-​tions.

“That was great!” I