The sentries nodded, more to each other than the khaasta, then snapped their glaives to the advance guard and started forward. The crowd parted to let them through, and the bariaur scowled down at the Thrasson.
"Is this true? Did you assault the reptilian?"
"I caused him no serious injury." The Thrasson's tone was sharp, for it had been the khaasta who had wronged him. "He dared block my path, and even you must see that my concerns take precedence here."
The bariaur arched his brow, then raised a hand to stop the two sentries. "Are you declaring an Emergency Priority?"
"If it means I am entitled not to wait, then yes."
The bariaur licked his lips, then clasped his hands on his desk and leaned on his elbows. "The proper procedure is to announce the Emergency Priority to the door guards, who will then certify that you have the proper funds and escort you to the front of the line, so as to create minimal disturbance and avoid unpleasant incidents such as the breaking of tails." The clerk made a sour face and glanced at the khaasta, then looked back to the Thrasson. "However, since you have already reached the counter, we will skip certification and proceed directly to collection. You may now present the fee."
"Fee?"
"Ten gold pieces." The bariaur's eyes grew large and menacing behind his spectacles. "Otherwise, every sod who came through those doors would declare an Emergency Priority, would he not?"
When the Thrasson did not immediately produce the fee, the guards began to advance again. "By order of the Hall of Speakers, false declaiming is a crime against the Lady's Order," said the tallest one, who had spoken to the Thrasson before. "Crimes against the Lady's Order are punishable by a sentence of not less than-"
"I have the fee!"
The Thrasson placed the amphora on the floor and balanced it against the counter with his leg, then opened his purse and counted out the gold. Ten gold coins would buy a lot of wine, but he could always get free wine back in Thrassos. He passed the coins up to the bariaur, who confirmed the count, entered the amount in his ledger, and dropped the coins into a slot on the surface of his bench.
"Do you want a receipt?"
"No. I want…"
The bariaur raised a finger to silence the Thrasson, then produced a large iron bell from behind his bench. He rang it six times. Though the tolling was not particularly loud, it reverberated through the cavernous hall as clearly as birdsong. By the time the last knell had died away, a gentle murmur had arisen to fill the entire structure. A trio of human youths, all dressed in pale blue uniforms with ugly red shoulder sashes, rounded a comer and stood at attention beside the counter. Around the opposite corner came another six guards, all wearing the same red plate armor as the door sentries. These men positioned themselves between the crowd and the counter, holding their glaives at port arms. From somewhere in the depths of the building echoed the measured clatter of four hooves clacking upon the marble floor.
The bariaur dipped his quill in the ink, then poised it over his ledger and peered down at the Thrasson.
"Name?"
The Thrasson hesitated, loathe to admit his one weakness in public. An impatient murmur rustled through the lobby, and the guards began to push the crowd back.
"Name?"
"I-er-uh, why is my name important?"
The bariaur's eye twitched. "We have our procedures, berk. Name?"
"You dare call me-" The Thrasson bit his tongue, reminding himself that he needed the bariaur's cooperation to keep the promise he had made. "I-uh-I can't tell you my name."
Deep in the building, the steady clacking of hooves grew louder, and the two door sentries stepped to the Thrasson's flanks. "Can't, or won't, berk?"
"I cannot." Though hardly intimidated by the guards, the Thrasson forced himself to answer politely. His task did riot call for the shedding of blood, and it was the hallmark of a true champion never to cause unnecessary harm. "I don't know my name. I recall nothing before awakening on the shore near Thrassos, where the citizens were kind enough to care for me until I could repay their hospitality by slaying the great hydra. Not long after, I heard of the mighty crocodile menacing the fishermen of the river Hebrus, so I journeyed-"
"Yes, yes, I have heard all that," the bariaur snorted. "But what am I to put in the ledger? He who slew the Hydra of Thrassos, then tamed the Hebron Crocodile, and on and on? I only have one line."
The Thrasson thought for a moment, and while he thought, the clacking of hooves deep in the building continued to grow louder. At last, he looked up. "The people of Thrassos call me the Amnesian Hero. That should fit on one line."
The bariaur nodded sagely. "The Amnesian Hero it is, then." He scrawled in his ledger, then dipped his quill again. "And may I put down Thrassos, Layer the First, Arborea, as your home?"
The Amnesian Hero nodded. "That is the only home I know."
The bariaur wrote this as well, then peered down at the Thrasson. "I'll grant that not knowing your own name is serious, but it hardly seems an Emergency Priority." He dipped his quill arid, almost sympathetically, said, "Still, you paid the fee and I can't get it back for you. Who would you like to see first? The Bureau of Human Affairs, or perhaps the Nonplanar Races Commission? By the Emergency Priorities Edict of the Hall of Speakers, you have a maximum of ten appointments to answer a single question."
The Amnesian Hero felt an unexpected flutter in his stomach. "You can tell me who I am?"
The bariaur smacked his lips. "I'm not authorized to dispense that information." His quill remained poised over the ledger. "My duties are limited strictly to the scheduling of appointments. Now, whom do you wish to see?"
The Amnesian Hero came close to requesting the Bureau of Human Affairs, but at the last moment found the strength to resist the temptation. Whoever he was, he was certainly a man of renown, and men of renown did not put their personal needs above their promises.
"If you don't know who you wish to see, I am authorized to give you a list."
The clacking of hooves deeper in the building grew so loud that the Thrasson expected to see an enormous bariaur rounding the counter at any moment. Voices in the impatient crowd began shouting suggestions, some more polite than others. The guards yelled back, bellowing warnings about staying in control and complying with the rules. To make his answer heard above the clamor, the Amnesian Hero nearly had to shout.
"I'm not here about my name. I want to see the Lady of Pain!"
The old bariaur yanked off his spectacles, and, save for the mounting echoes of hooves on marble, the chamber abruptly fell silent. The clerk leaned out over the counter and, bushy white brows half-arched, peered down at the Amnesian Hero.
"Pardon me. Did you say, the Lady of Pain?"
The Amnesian Hero nodded. "I did." He gestured at the large amphora he was still balancing against the counter. "I have a gift for her."
Nervous laughter rustled through the crowd, drawing several stem threats from the guards. On the other side of the counter, the steady clacking of the hooves suddenly ceased. The bariaur's face turned a deep shade of crimson.
"This is no time for jokes, berk! You're the one who declared an information emergency!"
"I am not joking," the Amnesian Hero replied. "I came to deliver a gift to the Lady of Pain. My question is: where do I find her palace?"
A brief clatter sounded from the rear of the counter, then a second bariaur appeared beside the clerk. She was by far the largest the Amnesian Hero had ever seen – at least that he remembered seeing-looming a full head above her associate. In fact, she was so large that the silk-draped swell of her broad, goatlike forequarters was visible over the lip of the counter. Her face was gaunt and amazingly flat, save for a long narrow nose hanging like a bartizan over her gash of a mouth. Her hair was dyed the same pale blue as the hall's marble walls, and she wore it in a long, unruly mop that could not quite conceal the two golden horns curling back from her temples.
The Amnesian Hero felt his mouth gaping open. He promptly clamped it shut and averted his gaze. Horns were something of a deformity on female bariaur, and it would be unseemly to stare.
The female took a moment to glower over the crowd, then turned her glare upon the clerk. "You rang the emergency bell, Earlick?"
Though she pronounced it "Earlick," Erlik was a common enough name for the Thrasson to suspect she was being intentionally insulting.
Without looking the female in the eyes, Erlik nodded. "I did, Madame Mok." The clerk squinted at his ledger and laid a finger on the appropriate line. "A human, one Amnesian Hero of Thrassos, Arborea, Layer the First, declared an Emergency Priority and paid the fee."
Madame Mok glared down at the Amnesian Hero, her sour face now absolutely curdled. "And this Amnesian Hero, has he no real name, Earlick?"
"None that I can recall." The Amnesian Hero was tired of being treated as though he were not there. "I remember nothing before awakening on the shore near Thrassos, where the kind citizens cared for me until I grew strong enough to repay them by slaying a hydra that had-"
"Silence, berk!" Madame Mok snapped. "We have our procedures in this hall…"
The Amnesian Hero bristled under the rebuff, but inclined his head politely and allowed Erlik to answer for him.