Part 3 (1/2)

”Well, you've come a cropper this time, Hermes,” Westfall said.

”That seems to be the case,” Hermes said. ”Who are you? Not a magician, that I'm sure of.” He looked around. ”And no king, because this is certainly no palace. You're some sort of commoner, aren't you?”

”I am a grain merchant,” Westfall said.

”And how did you come by this amulet?”

”None of your business.”

”Probably found it in your granny's attic!”

”It doesn't matter where I got it!” Westfall's fist tightened convulsively over the amulet.

”Take it easy!” Hermes said, wincing. ”All right, that's better.” Hermes took a deep breath and performed a small incantation to calm himself down. This was no time for rage, no matter how justified. This stupid mortal did indeed have power over him because of this ancient amulet. How had he gotten it? The fellow must have stolen it, because he obviously knew little or nothing about the Art.

”Master Westfall,” Hermes said, ”I acknowledge your power over me. I do indeed have to obey you. Tell me what it is you want, and let us waste no further time.”

”That's more like it,” Westfall said. ”First I want a sack of gold coins, fine minted and capable of being spent where and how I please. English, Spanish, or French coins will do nicely, but no Italian ones-they always clip the edges. I also want an Old English sheepdog, a pedigreed one like the King has. That'll do for a start, but I'll have more requests after that.”

”Not so fast,” Hermes said. ”How many wishes are you expecting me to grant?”

”As many as I want!” Westfall cried. ”Because I've got the amulet!” He flourished it, and Hermes winced with pain.

”Not so hard! I'll get your stuff! Give me a day or two!” And so saying, Hermes disappeared.

Hermes had no difficulty putting together the items Westfall wanted. He kept bags and bags of gold coin in a cave under the Rhine, in the care of dwarfs who had been out of work since Gotterdammerung. The Old English sheepdog was no great trouble, either - Hermes easily kidnapped one from a kennel near Spottiswode. Then he returned to Westfall's chamber in York.

Chapter 5.

Good dog. Now go lie in the corner,” Westfall said. The half-grown Old English sheepdog looked at him and barked.

”He's not very well trained,” Westfall said.

”Hey, you didn't say anything about him being trained,” Hermes replied. ”He's got a pedigree as long as your arm.”

”He's a good-looking dog,” Westfall acknowledged, ”and the gold pieces are satisfactory.” He had a mess of them in a small stout leather bag at his feet.

”I'm glad you're satisfied,” Hermes said. ”Now if you will just tell this amulet that you release me and that I am no longer in your power, we can each of us get on with our own business.”

”Not so fast!” Westfall said. ”I still have a number of wishes I want you to grant.”

”But I'm busy!” Hermes complained.

”You must be patient. I'll need you around for a while longer, my dear Trismegistus, and if you do what I ask, after that I'll consider releasing you.”

”That's not fair!” Hermes said. ”I'm willing to grant you a wish or two out of respect for your ill-gotten talisman, but you're taking advantage of the situation.”

”Magic is there to take advantage of people with,” Westfall said.