Page 67 of New Storm Rising
“Fizzlewiz Fabulous Fitness Serum! The best medicine in the world to cure nausea, Nausicaa, nasty colds, the smallpox, the big pox, measles, typhus, yellow fever, red fever, black fever and pink fever!”[18]
I take that back.
“How about you, gentlemen and ladies in the beautiful carriage? Fizzlewiz Fabulous Fitness Serum also helps against carriage-sickness and is…guaranteed…to…”
The man’s voice slowly trailed off as Mr Rikkard Ambrose leaned out of the carriage window until his face was roughly three inches from that of Mr Angus Angleton.
“You were saying?”
“Ehem, well…” The diminutive man cleared his throat. “I…I just noticed that there are some people over there who look like they really need medicine. Urgently.”
“Agreed.”
By the time Mr Ambrose pushed open the door of the carriage, Mr Angus Angleton had evaporated. Pulling open my door, my dear husband once again extended his arm to me.
“Why, thank you.” Taking hold of his arm, I stepped out of the coach and glanced up at the building in front of us. It looked pretty much the same as the saloon, except for the rough wooden sign next to the entrance proclaimingOffice of the Mayor, and the probable lack of sparsely-clad dancers inside.
“Well, Mrs Ambrose…shall we?”
I grinned. “Of course. After all, it would be rude to keep the mayor waiting, wouldn’t it?”
And together, we stepped into the building.
The moment we did, the receptionist ducked behind the desk. “Don’t shoot! The money is in the second drawer on the left!”
“Ah.” I nodded. “Local customs. So charming.” Stepping forward, I tapped on the desk. “No need to worry. We’re not here to rob the place.”
Cautiously, the young man peeked out from behind his chair. “Really?”
“Really.”
“Ah, thank God!” Breathing a deep sigh of relief, the young man resurfaced fully. “After what recently happened at the jail, I thought the worst. Please excuse the overreaction, gentlemen.” Dusting himself off, he sent us a relieved smile—until he caught sight of Mr Rikkard Ambrose.
“Ah. Um. Mr Rikkard Ambrose. What a, ehem…pleasant surprise. I…we…um…”
I patted his shoulder with a wink. “You’d have preferred the desperados, wouldn’t you?”
“Ye—no! No, of course not! It’s just…” The poor receptionist glanced from left to right, as if searching for help or hope. But both had long since fled the place through the window. So had most of the other staff. I only spotted the coattails of a desperate fugitive slipping around the corner, before we were completely alone in the room. “Ehem…it’s just…the mayor is in a meeting right now.”
“I know,” Mr Ambrose informed him. “With me.”
And with that, he strode past the desk, straight up the stairs towards the mayor’s office. The poor receptionist stared after him, mouth agape. Generous young woman that I was, I popped a piece of chocolate in and nudged it shut.
“Don’t worry. He’s always like this. Well…” I thought back to last night, in the bedroom. “Except for some situations, but I don’t think you want to know about those.”
Moving past the man, I hurried after Mr Ambrose. I caught up with him just when he pushed open the door to the mayor’s office.
“Ah, Mr Mayor. Don’t go climbing out of the window quite so fast. You must have forgotten, but the two of us had a meeting scheduled.”
“Oh. Ehem. Well…now sat you mention it, Señor, I do seem to recall somesing of se kind.” Pulling back his leg from over the windowsill, the pudgy fellow with the handlebar moustache straightened his vest and sidled towards his chair. Maybe to sit down, but more likely to put his desk between himself and Mr Ambrose.
“Let’s get to the point.” Stepping forward, Mr Ambrose flicked his thumb, sending a single coin whirling through the air, until it landed with aplingon the mayor’s desk.
Ah, the nostalgia of that noise…
Unfortunately for him, the mayor did not seem to associate the sound with any positive memories.
“And?” Mr Ambrose took a step forward, clasping his hands behind his back, posture ramrod straight. “Did you come to a decision regarding my…generous offer?”
