Taxes
Many weeks ago I had wrapped my late-wife's flowery cloth around me and set off down river in my canoe, my own house in hand. The Drummer Boys had come by to collect taxes that day, but were not pleased when I had little to offer. They shrunk my house then told me to go to the capitol to seek audience with the Ruler to return the house to size.
A week ago, I arrived at the capitol and was surprised at how quickly I was able to sell my canoe. Apparently, feather-lined canoes fetch a hefty sum here. I was just happy I now had some zodiac coins to buy some real food, as I had been living on nothing but chestnuts for that last leg of the journey.
There was not much for food outside the city walls, so I immediately set out for the main gate. Approaching the gate, I noticed several disembodied heads posted on spears all along the wall. As I waited to enter the gate, I asked the couple pulling a cart in front of me what crimes those whose heads were on the wall had done. The couple explained that there were murders and thieves among the heads, but a bit concerning were the few that refused to pay taxes.
Over the week, I had discovered that the Ruler would not see anyone. If rumors were to be believed, the Ruler was deathly ill. The illness had made the once-proud, strong, and tall Ruler into a thin, frail shell that barely stood a foot high. The Ruler's consort, the Ebony Lady, was the one holding court daily. Each day I would attend court, and each day she had refused to hear me. I quickly realized that I would probably run out of coin before the Ebony Lady would hear a commoner such as me.
And now, here I sit in this dark corner of this inn. I pour the last of the drink from the bottle the innkeeper gave me into a small bowl just as the man sitting across from me stands and takes his leave. The man took the last of my coin and even my hand-made leather wallet, but at least he gave me the means to get my house back to size. I down the last of the drink as I clutch the piece of parchment bearing the royal seal of the Ruler. I could not wait to get out of this putrid-smelling city.
I make my way out of the inn and walk down the street to the office of the Drummer Boys. It is not long before I find the office and enter. I hand the Boy behind the counter the parchment, while explaining to him that I need to get my house back to size. He takes the parchment and goes into the back room. Moments later, an older Boy comes out front whilst reading the parchment. The older Boy looks up and waves his hand. The two guards at the door take hold of me. The older Boy says, "I know the Ebony Lady has no patience for tax cases, so I can be almost assured that this document is a forgery. Perhaps if you were as good at paying your taxes as you were forging this document, you would still have your head come morning."
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