Finally, convinced that I was as prepared as I could be with the amount of time available, I knocked on the Boss's door.
"Say, Boss. Can you spare a minute?" I sez, pokin' my head in.
The Boss was sittin' at his desk with a goblet of wine in his hand and a full pitcher nearby.
"Sure, Guido. Come on in. Pour yourself some wine."
It seemed to me it was awfully early in the day for the Boss to be hittin' the vino so hard, but figured it was none of my business. When it came right down to it, I had little idea what the Boss had to do on a day-to-day basis while tryin' to straighten out the kingdom's finances or what kind of pressures it put on him. What he did and how he did it was up to him.
"I never drink when I'm workin', Boss," I sez, "but thanks anyway. I just need to talk to you about something."
I glanced around and pulled up a chair. Now that I was here, I wasn't sure quite how to start.
The Boss seemed to realize this, and leaned forward with a slight smile on his face.
"So, what can I do for you?" he sez, friendly-like.
I took a deep breath and plunged in.
"Well, Boss, It's like this. I was thinkin' ... You know how Nunzio and me spent some time in the army here?"
"Yes, I heard about that," he sez with a nod.
"Bein' on the inside like that, I get the feelin' I probably know a little more'n you do about the army types and how they think. The truth is, I'm a little worried about how they're gonna handle bein' tax collectors. Know what I mean?"
I paused and looked at him expectantly.
"Not really," he sez, with a bit of a frown.
This was not goin' as well as I hoped, but I pressed on gamely.
"What I mean is, when you're a soldier, you don't have to worry much about how popular you are with the enemy, 'cause mostly you're tryin' to make him dead and you don't expect him to like it. It's different doin' collection work, whether it's protection money or taxes, which is of course just a different kind of protection racket. Ya gotta be more diplomatic 'cause you're gonna have to deal with the same people over and over again. These army types might be aces when it comes to takin' real estate away from a rival operation, but I'm not sure how good they are at knowin' when to be gentle with civilian types. Get my drift?"
The Boss was noddin' now, which I was glad to see.
"I hadn't really thought about it, but I see your point."
More confident now, I moved on to the next point in my plan.
"Well, you know I don't care much for meddlin' in management type decisions," I sez, "but I have a suggestion. I was thinkin' you could maybe appoint someone from the army to specifically inspect and investigate the collectin' process. You know, to be sure the army types don't get too carried away with their new duties."
The Boss is frownin' again.
"Um ... I don't quite understand, Guido. Isn't it kind of pointless to have someone from the army watching over the army? I mean, what's to say our inspector will be any different from the one's he's supposed to be policing?"
"Two things," I sez with a smile. "First, I have someone specific in mind for the inspector ... one of my old army buddies. Believe me, Boss, this person is not particularly fond or tolerant of the way the army does things. As a matter of fact, I've already had the papers drawn up to formalize the assignment. All you gotta do is sign 'em."
I hand him the scroll I've been carryin', which he unrolls and scans.
"Funny name for a soldier," he sez, half to himself. "Spyder."
"Trust me, Boss," I sez. "This is the person for the job."
Instead of signin' the scroll, the Boss leans back and looks at me hard-like.
"You said there were two things," he sez. "What's the other?"
"Well, I thought you could have a couple of envoys tag along," I sez, casual-like. "You know, reportin' directly to you. That way you could be doubly sure the army wasn't hidin' anything from you."
The Boss stares at me in silence for a few beats before he responds.
"I see," he sez at last. "And I suppose you have a couple specific people in mind for the envoys as well?"
This catches me by surprise. His question is well in advance of when I had planned to raise this point, and I have to scramble a bit mentally to re-arrange my carefully prepared script.
"Um ... As a matter of fact..."
"I don't know, Guido," he sez, shakin' his head. "I mean, it's a good idea, but I'm not sure I can spare both you and Nunzio. If nothing else, I want Nunzio to do a little work with Gleep. I want to find out if there's anything wrong with him."
We are now on the same page again, and I relax a bit. If this is the Boss's only problem with the proposal, I'm home free.
"Ah ... Actually, Boss," I sez, carefully, "I wasn't thinkin' of Nunzio. I was thinkin' maybe Pookie and I could handle it."
Nunzio and I had talked this out. Upon reflection, it didn't seem like such a good idea to have all three of the Boss's bodyguards away from him at the same time. In addition, it made sense for one of us that was familiar with the Boss's habits to stay with him, while the other teamed with Pookie. Now, I've been a bit taken with Pookie since she first knocked me flat, so when Nunzio suggested that he be the one to stay behind, I didn't argue much.
The Boss seemed genuinely surprised by this suggestion, however, so I hurried on.
"Really, Boss," I sez. "There ain't a whole lot to do here for three bodyguards. I mean, the way I see it, the only one here in the castle who might want to do you any harm is the Queen herself, and I don't think you have to worry about her until after you've made up your mind on the marriage thing. I was just lookin' for a way that we can earn our keep ... something useful to do."
For some reason, this seems to make up his mind for him, and he reaches for a quill.
"Okay, Guido," he sez, signin' the scroll. "You've got it. Just be sure to keep me posted as to what's going on." That touches a bit of a nerve, as it is exactly what we don't intend to do.
"Thanks, Boss," I sez, gatherin' up the scroll while avo-idin' direct eye contact. "You won't regret this."
With that, I make my getaway, which is to say I leave the room.
Pausin' in the corridor outside, I realize my heart is beatin' at a vastly accelerated rate for someone who has simply been conversin' with his employer. It occurs to me that I am lookin' forward to bein' out in the field again, as my normal rough-and-tumble pastimes seem to be far less stressful than this diplomacy stuff.
FOUR
It is a well known fact that events do not always follow anticipated plans when occurring. This is particularly obvious to one in my own chosen line of work, as it is the main reason that a peace lovin' individual such as myself finds it necessary to stock what has become known as 'tools of the trade,' which is to say an assortment of blunt and not-so-blunt instruments. Ninety percent of the situations requirin' violence occur when things do not go as planned and priorities shift from profitability to survival.
But I digress.
I had figured that the biggest difficulty involved with our sub-rosa scoutin' mission would be gettin' the Boss to go along with it without actually lettin' him know what we was doin'. As it turned out, this was very easily accomplished, partially because he was distracted tryin' to figure out what to do about the kingdom's finances, and partially because he had started drinkin' early that day ... somethin' which seems to go hand in glove with workin' with numbers. In any case, with a minimum of verbal duckin' and weavin', I emerged with a scroll reassignin' Spyder as Royal Investigator and his approval for Pookie and me to tag along as his personal envoys. Piece of cake.