much

this business

this business transacted quickly. A trade in goods is what I want, as you know."
Unable to move for the sudden tremors in his legs, Charlie studied this newcomer covertly from the shadows. He was thin-faced, surprisingly tall, with a look Charlie would once have identified as savvy street predator. He possessed the sharp, cold eyes of a vulture. When he smiled, Charlie repressed the instinctive urge to reach for his backup gun. He was a colonial, judging from his accent. Charlie's was much worse, of course.
Xanthus laughed. "Bericus will consider it a bargain, even with the gold you're asking in addition."
"If you would be so kind, Xanthus, perhaps you might handle the negotiations? For a . . . percentage?"
Xanthus' eyes gleamed. Adflicta compressed her lips. No Roman lady of quality wanted to have it whispered, "Her husband is in trade!"
"Of course. Say . . . ten percent?"
The conversation devolved into a haggling war over percentage points. Charlie regained control of his shuddering pulse and tried to inch past along the edge of the