"Nine hundred is bid," the auctioneer said. "Lord Moaris, will you bid more?"
"I would," Moaris grunted. "But I am summoned, and must leave." He looked blankly angry, but he did not question the boy's message. Herndon noted that down for possible future use. It had been a lucky guess—but Lord Moaris of the Seigneur's court came running when his lady bid him do so.
"Nine hundred is bid," the auctioneer repeated. "Do I hear more? Nine hundred for this fine proteus—who'll make it an even thousand?"
There was no one. Seconds ticked by, and no voice spoke. Herndon waited tensely at the edge of the crowd as the auctioneer chanted, "At nine hundred once, at nine hundred for two, at nine hundred ultimate—
"Yours for nine hundred, friend. Come forward with your cash. And I urge you all to return in ten minutes, when we'll be offering some wonderful pink-hued maidens from Villidon." His hands described a feminine shape in the air with wonderfully obscene gusto.
Herndon came forward. The crowd had begun to dissipate, and the inner ring was deserted as he approached the auctioneer. The proteus had taken on a frog-like shape and sat huddled in on itself like a statue of gelatin.
Herndon eyed the foul-smelling Agozlid and said, "I'm the one who bought the proteus. Who gets my money?"
"I do," croaked the auctioneer. "Nine hundred stellors gold, plus thirty stellors fee, and the beast's yours."
Herndon touched the money-plate at his belt and a coil of hundred-stellor links came popping forth. He counted off nine of them, broke the link, and laid them on the desk before the Agozlid. Then he drew six five-stellor pieces from his pocket and casually dropped them on the desk.
"Let's have your name for the registry," said the auctioneer after counting out the money and testing it with a soliscope.