The Dark Army by Marcus Alexander

Author:Marcus Alexander [Alexander, Marcus]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9780141339771
Publisher: PUFFIN BOOKS
Published: 2012-12-31T13:00:00+00:00

31

The Golden Touch

‘Yes? Can I help you?’ asked a haughty cashier.

‘Yes, ya can. I’d like ta speak ta the master banker if ya please. It’s Jensen the Willow of Sylvaris.’

The cashier looked down his nose at the travel-worn Treman standing on the other side of his counter.

‘And does sir have an appointment?’ enquired the cashier in a slightly mocking tone.

‘Does it look like I’ve been in town long enough ta make an appointment?’ countered Jensen. ‘Of course I don’t have one, but I have several large accounts with dis bank and many more with its sister banks in Sylvaris, Alavis and Alacorn. I think ya’ll find that the size and merit of my accounts allow me more than ample opportunity ta drop inta any branch of the Gilded Bank as and when I want ta.’

‘Is that right, sir?’ said the cashier in a patronising voice. ‘Are you sure you have an account with us? Perhaps you’ve got your banks confused?’

‘Listen, sonny –’

‘No, you listen, sir. This a bank for gentlemen not scoundrels! You must think me a buffoon, sir. Not one of our clients would ever dress as poorly as you or, might I add, stink of the road as much as you. I insist you leave our premises or I’ll have our bailiffs escort you out!’

Jensen sighed. Reaching over he grabbed the cashier’s ear.

The cashier yelped and tried to close his own fist round Jensen’s, but the Treman twisted his ear even further. All the other clerks watched in alarm and one of the burly bailiffs started to lumber over.

‘Ladies, gentlemen,’ began Jensen in a loud but polite manner, ‘I find that I am rapidly losing me respect for the Gilded Bank. Allow me ta repeat meself, I am Jensen the Willow and over the years I have deposited enough money in this bank ta warrant a little respect. Now if someone doesn’t go and fetch me the master banker right this instant I can guarantee that I will be withdrawing me more than considerable business from this sorry excuse for a bank!’

‘What, might I ask, is going on here?’ A plump Stoman with thick reading glasses held open one of the doors that led deeper into the bank. She wore a concerned look on her educated face. ‘And who, might I add, is the gentleman who is manhandling my staff?’

‘Jensen the Willow.’

The woman blinked upon hearing the name. ‘Of Sylvaris?’

‘Aye, that would be me.’

The Stoman blinked yet again. She snapped her fingers at the bailiff. ‘Please remove that man.’ The bailiff loomed over Jensen. ‘No, not that man, that man.’

The bailiff hesitated for a moment, but, reading the seriousness of his employer’s expression, swiftly let go of Jensen and instead clamped his oversized hands round the surprised cashier’s shoulders.

‘Wh-what?’ stuttered the cashier, unable to comprehend what was happening.

‘Silence,’ growled the bailiff.

All the other clerks watched in fascination as their ex-colleague was unceremoniously hurled out of the door.

‘I do apologize for that,’ said the Stoman once the door was slammed shut, silencing the cashier’s high-pitched squawks of protest.

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