Robert Asprin: Something MYTH Inc

"Skeeve definitely has the Queen's ear, that much you admit. Then there's the rumor that he consorts with strange, otherworldly creatures." She pauses and looks pointedly around the room. "And some say he's guarded by a ferocious dragon." She nods toward Gleep, who cocks his head at her. "And, finally, there's persistent talk that he has underworld connections and is supported by local organized crime."

She pointedly does not look at Nunzio and me, but the message gets across.

"Not to offend the current company, but the citizens are thinking that 'If it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck...' " She lets the sentence trail off. "Anyway, whatever the truth is, that's what the talk is that's going around the kingdom. General Badaxe thought you should know."

I let the silence drag on for a few minutes as the team digests what they've heard.

'Thank you, Spyder," I sez at last. "I guess the big question, and the reason I called this meetin', is: What are we going to do about all this?"

"I think you were right, Guido." Aahz sez. "Both for calling the meeting and for thinking that it's best if Skeeve didn't hear about this."

"I'll have to second that," Chumley sez. 'The lad's never been particularly good at handling women, and this thing with Queen Hemlock has him tied up in knots. I say let's look into this ourselves and let Skeeve focus on his other problems."

"Right," sez Aahz. "Particularly since this might get a bit messy, and Skeeve has always had a bit of a weak stomach when it comes to out-and-out violence, however necessary."

He looks around the assemblage, and receives a round of nods. I am glad to see him takin' command of the meetin', since this now gets me off the hook.

"Okay," he sez. "Here's how I see it. For the time being, I think most of us should hang tight here at the palace to keep an eye on Skeeve and be sure nobody tries a sneak attack or assassination. Guido, I think you and Nunzio should do some scouting to see exactly what the situation is and what we can do about it. Maybe you can figure out a way to rig it so Spyder here gets assigned to assist you."

So much for gettin' off the hook.

"I think I'd like to tag along on that as well, if nobody minds," Pookie sez, speakin' up for the first time.

"If you can handle the disguise spells so you don't scare the populace, I don't see why not," Aahz nods. "Okay. If everyone agrees and there's nothing else right now, I suggest we break this up and get back to what we were doing before Skeeve comes looking for us."

As the various players start to wander off, Aahz draws me to one side.

"Just one thing, Guido," he sez. "If you have to call another one of these meetings, I suggest you do it somewhere other than the stables. Skeeve has a habit of dropping by here from time to time to talk to his dragon."

I glance over at Gleep. Instead of his usual playin' around, he is sittin' very still and starin' off into the distance, just as if he were thinkin' hard about somethin'.

Our intrepid band of adventurers has raised an excellent point. To wit, who could possibly be upset enough with Skeeve to try to organize a resistance movement?

A quick glance around the kingdom (it's not that big a kingdom) yields the answer.

Open rebellion rarely if ever comes from the rich. Their weapon of choice is money (that's why they're rich) rather than swords and bows. What's more, they can afford to employ expert retainers to do their fighting for them. Of course, those skirmishes usually take place in court or with auditors rather than on the field of battle.

By similar logic, the poor are seldom the ones to stir up trouble. Frankly, they can't afford either the time or the money it takes. Peasants are kept too busy by the endless tasks involved in tending fields and livestock to meddle openly in politics, and even begging takes a surprising amount of time and energy just to raise sufficient coins for one or two days' worth of sustenance. As long as things don't deteriorate to a point where everyone is starving and they have nothing to lose, the poor don't really care much who's running things.

For real grumblers and agitators, one need only look to those who have some money, a bit of education, and too much leisure time ... which is to say the middle class.

For an example of this, one need look no further than the annual gathering of the Sherwood Arms Bow Hunting Club. In happier times, this was simply a group of buddies who happened to live in the same suburb, specifically the Sherwood Arms, that scheduled their vacations at the same time so that they could all go bow hunting in the nearby Possiltum Royal Game Preserve. In truth, this time was usually spent drinking and playing cards while letting their beards grow out, all in the name of 'roughing it' ... which in itself was no small achievement considering the rather primitive conditions prevalent in Possiltum at this time. This year, however, there was a markedly different air to the proceedings ...

"I still don't get it," Tucker said, helping himself to some more wine. "Why do we have to do anything about this Skeeve character?"

"Haven't you been listening to Robb?" put in John, the broad-shouldered, construction-worker type of the group. "He's raising the taxes. You know who that's going to hit the hardest, don't you? Small businessmen like us."

"Speak for yourself, Johnny," Tucker snorted. He was the physical opposite of John, being rather short and rotund. "Unlike some, I wouldn't exactly call my business little ... excuse me, small."

"Would you like to step outside and say that, Tuck?" John said, getting to his feet and straightening to his full, considerable height.

"Umm, Johnny? We are outside," Tucker said wearily, making no effort to match John's actions.

Even though they were good friends and neighbors, the 'big/little' thing was a sore spot between the two men. Tucker owned several franchises of the biggest fast-food chain in Possiltum, making him notably more successful than John, whose third attempt at starting a company, this one renting porta-potties, was still struggling for life.

"Could you two knock it off for a while?" said Robb impatiently. 'This is important."

"Sorry, Robb," John said, sinking back into a sitting position. "It's just that the Cholesterol King here gets under my skin from time to time."

"It's just that some of us have the sense to give the people what they want... like ready-cooked food," Tucker sniffed. "Why try to rent porta-potties in a country where most folks' idea of a toilet is the nearest tree or bush?"

"For the same reason some people don't eat at your grease holes," John shot back. "They appreciate sanitation."

"Sanitation, is it?" Tucker snarled. "Well, let me tell you..."

"ENOUGH!!" Robb interrupted. "Do you want to hear this or not?"

The two combatants sank into a sullen silence, shooting each other occasional dark glances. Even though Robb did not have John's height and muscles, there was an intensity about him that made him the automatic leader of the group.

"Now, the part that really worries me," Robb continued, "is that not only is this Skeeve character raising the taxes, he's diverting part of the army to collect back taxes as well. Tell me that doesn't affect all of us."

The group exchanged uncomfortable looks. While all of them filed their taxes on a regular basis to avoid penallies and interest, they had gotten in the habit of relying on the kingdom's laxness in collecting monies owed. As a result, they all had sizable sums owed in back taxes, which could be disastrous if said sums were to be forcibly collected all at once.

"Okay. I'll admit that could be bad," said the well-dressed, red-headed member leaning against a tree. Slender to the point of being waspish, he nonetheless habitually carried himself with a poise and dignity that forbade anyone from even thinking of him as 'Red.' "So what are we supposed to do about it?"