Bab 455: Incident at North Gate

"Even if you don't recognize me," I said, "this signet ring here on my finger grants me access."

"Not without declaring all your belongings and paying customs tax."

"Yes, precisely without such needless delays."

"New ruling by Mayor Goober." the guard told me. "Everyone pays the customs tax. No exceptions, no permits, no bardic courtesy."

I squinted my eyes. "Bring me to your sergeant, then. Let me hear this from his lips."

"Sergeant is still out to breakfast. You sure you want to wait?"

I glanced up, the sun more than halfway to its peak. "Are such hours common for your sergeant?"

The guard's expression flickered, then returned to bored. Not anger. Fear.

"It's not my place to tell my sergeant what hours to keep." he eventually said. "Now either get through customs, and pay the tax, or wait there with the … performer."