Lon left Andrew in the great hall to attend to business. “I’ll return in five minutes,” Lon told him. And then Andrew was alone. He plopped down into one of the dark brown feasting chairs and set about admiring the room. There was clearly a lot of value left in this castle. The golden feasting horn would fetch at least 5 pounds of gold. The tapestries of the Goblin civil uprising, which took place, thankfully, before Andrew was born, would fetch another 10. The silverware was worth its weight in silver. But the real question wasn’t whether there was value left in the castle – it was whether Andrew would be able to get it from Lon.
The meal they ate was aged mutton with cranberry sauce and foot of the elf. Andrew had a bite of the mutton and swallowed, smiling up at Lon. It was the two of them, and then two of Lon’s “accountants.” To Lon’s left was his right hand man, Matthew Shorn, a fierce goblin accountant with an eye for value, literally. His right eye had been given to him by a Wharton financial wizard and allowed him to know the price of anything it gazed upon. His left eye remained viable for seeing and depth perception. Matthew glanced at a gold ring on Andrew’s finger.
“Nice ring,” Matthew said.
“Thank you!” Andrew said, picking up the elf foot on his plate and seeing if there was a good spot to bite into. Andrew could see Matthew opening his right eye to get a better look at the ring.
“Wait, never mind. It’s fake, not worth more than a few sheckles,” Matthew said, and went back to devouring the mutton.
To Lon’s left was his other accountant, Harold. Harold was an ogre. Harold had a large club in his hand. Andrew found himself intimidated by Harold. He also suspected that perhaps Harold was not an accountant.
Andrew smiled politely and put down the foot of Elf.
“So, I love what you’ve done with the castle,” Andrew said.
Silence.
“Why are you here… banker?” Lon said. He said “banker” as if bankers were cockroaches, and Lon’s boot was six inches off the ground, ready to squish.
“Well! I am glad you asked, glad you asked…” Andrew said, chuckling nervously as he smoothed out his delicate mustache and toyed with his fake ring. “You see… I was expecting a payment on my 50 pound gold loan!” Andrew waited, staring at the three of them. “I never got the payment.”
“When were you expecting the payment?” Matthew asked him.
“Six months ago,” Andrew said.
“And what makes you think I’d pay?” Lon asked.
“You signed this agreement letter,” Andrew said, fishing it out of his satchel and holding it up to them. Lon took the letter, glanced at it, and then handed it to Harold. Harold then ate the letter, staring angrily at Andrew as he chewed and swallowed.
Andrew shook with fear. He stood and offered his hand to Lon. “Always a pleasure seeing you – I’ll show myself out.” Lon gestured to Harold.
“Not so fast. Take Mr. Cranston to the dungeon.” Harold nodded, and proceeded to lift Andrew up and throw him over his shoulder.
“You’ll regret this Lon! I work for a very powerful bank! I’ll get my money back!!!” Andrew yelled as he was dragged off.
“No, Mr. Cranston. You will rot in my dungeon with all the other creditors as I use your money to assemble the largest army the City of Century has ever seen,” Lon said, smiling at Matthew. “You see, once I control this kingdom, it won’t matter what my credit score is!”
All Andrew could hear was Lon’s deep, goblin laugh as Harold dragged him down, down, down into the darkest depths of the Goblin dungeon.
TOMORROW: Will Andrew Die in the Dungeon? Who will he meet there? Will Lon’s credit score go down!? On…. ANDREW CRANSTON: MEDIEVAL LENDER!
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