As a couple of the men-at-arms raised their pikes to the ready, the merchant righted himself, folded his hands again, and bowed in obeisance. Blood trickled down his chin, a drop spattering on his clothing. He ignored it.
"You would dispute my judgment?" Gerda drew his hand up for a second blow. "Here is no market place for your sharp bargaining. For your insolence, another five hundred teloa will be exacted. Make speed!"
The merchant shook his head dazedly, but offered no word of protest. Silently, he dug into his possessions, to produce a third bag. For a moment, he weighed it in his hand, then reached into it, to remove a few loose coins. Without raising his head, he extended the bag to the officer of the guard.
Gerda turned. Lor had gone into the guard house, to count the other two bags. The officer raised his voice.
"Lor, get back out here. I've more for you to count."
He tossed the bag to the clerk, then stood, glaring at the unfortunate trader. At last, he kicked the nearest bale.
"Well," he growled, "get this stuff off the wharf. What are you waiting for?"
He watched the barge crew load, then turned. Lor came from the guard house.
"All is in order, My Captain."
"Very well." Gerda looked at him approvingly. Then, he swung to the merchant, fixing him with a stern glare.