The Tax Man

Aurum the Gold knew that a knight had entered his lair.

He knew it because of the smell of smelted metal. He knew because of the smell of blood on the knight's blade. He knew that it was of the race of Men, for the smell that all such creatures brought. He knew that it was male because of the nature of the intruder's footfalls. And he knew that most likely, it was a foolish adventurer, come to steal his horde of gold, silver, and bronze.

And platinum. Aurum knew how the market would go. Other dragons laughed at him, but he'd get the last roar once the demand shot up.

So he yawned, though still kept his eyes closed. He'd once played a game, how long it took to incinerate an intruder without looking. But given the sound and range of the intruder's footfalls, he guessed that the intruder was casually strolling up to him. So either the man was brave, stupid, or in some insane alternate universe, a genuine threat.

"Hello," the man said.

Aurum yawned. Yep. Going with stupid.

"You awake?"

Well, at least he was a polite intruder. Most of them made various declarations about killing him before trying to do so, doing so in the name of (insert deity here) or to avenge (insert name here). So, letting out a third and final yawn, Aurum started to open his eyes. The knight had been polite so far. Least he could do was explain why he was going to burn him to a crisp and-

Oh no.

"Ah, you are awake."

Oh no.

"Aurum the…Silver, is it?"

Silver? My scales are gold you moron! I…wait…oh no…

Rage. Fear. They collided in Aurum's breast faster than the pair of cows he'd devoured last week.

"Well, no matter. We'll deal with names later."

"Indeed," Aurum murmured. He flexed his claws, drawing in a few gold coins that had fallen off the pile. "Welcome, to my lair."

Underneath the knight's helm, Aurum could imagine the knight smiling.

After all, who didn't fear the tax man?

"Not to worry Mister Gold. It's all very simple."

Aurum stared at the scrolls of parchment the knight had summoned out of thin air. Magic at its finest – doing whatever its user wanted it to do, damn the mechanics of how that magic actually worked. He picked up a pair of spectacles and attached them to his eyes. Both of them once part of telescopes that had been at the Astrolabus, the largest, most opulent observatory in the hemisphere. Little trinkets from his last trip there.

And only. The building was no longer standing.

"Treasure tax," Aurum murmured, looking at the figures. "Do I really owe you all this?"

"Of course," the knight exclaimed. "After all, we've allowed you to pillage and plunder at leisure. This is just a small payment for our services."

Aurum scowled – services. The tax men were just louts who sat on top piles of gold all day after pillaging and plundering. Not like dragons at all.

"I see you made a contribution to the Dwarf Foundation," the knight continued. "Well, that's tax deductible at least."

Aurum shrugged. He liked dwarves. They always gave him so much treasure. And they hated elves too, so there was that as an added bonus. But even elves paled in comparison to the leech before him. But bowing to the inevitable, he kept reading. Tax after tax, figure after figure, the-

"Maiden tax? What's that?"

"The maiden tax?" the knight asked. "Oh, that's to offset how many maidens dragons eat. There's a bit of a population imbalance in the peasantry nowadays after all, but-

"Look, sacrifices are sacrifices," Aurum protested. "I never asked for maidens, the villagers just keep giving them to me. I've nothing against eating men."

"Next up," the knight said hastily, as if suddenly aware of the plumbing he'd been issued. "The name tax."

"The what?!"

"Name tax. Every dragon has a name that goes X the Y. As in, Aurum the Gold. Argentum the Silver. Antonio the Platinum."

Antonio? Platinum? Bloody hellfire.

"And let's not start when dragons going by names of the Destroyer, or, the Destructor, or, the Devourer," the knight continued. "Do you have any idea how much time it takes us to patent those names? Why, Lucion the Deadly had a whole line of tunics bearing his namesake, along with the catch phrases."

"Catch phrases?"

"Yes. As in, 'you just got burned,' or, 'look ma, no wings.'"

Aurum sighed. Lucion. He'd always hated that flying twat. He was glad when Benaris the Despicable devoured him in a delicious manner, before being slain by the not so well named Pentello the Delicate.

He was only now starting to realize that dragons needed some better PR, that people might be more inclined to give their riches if they didn't go by all these names. And that those names needed to start with something other than the letter D.

"Now then, the fire tax," the knight said. "Nearly there."

"Fire tax?"

"Yes. Some dragons breathe fire, some ice, some lightning…"

"You're taxing what I breathe?"

"Well, there was a carbon tax not so long ago," the knight shrugged. "And fire devours oxygen."

"My hearts weep for those poor molecules," Aurum said in a monotone.

"And all the burnt forest." The knight shook his head. "Do you have any idea how many trees are cut down per day? The whole burning thing is-"

"Fine, fine!" Aurum exclaimed, signing off on the fire tax. "Anything else?"

"Only one more," the knight said. "The dungeon tax."

"The what?"

"Dungeon tax. Do you know how many dragons are found in dungeons? It's murder on the painting, let me tell you."

"No, I don't know how many dragons are found in dungeons" Aurum said. "And I've never entered a dungeon anyway. The masters keep giving me snake eyes."

"Oh. Okay then." The knight withdrew the dungeon parchment. "Just as well. We had an incident last month when a monster was stuck in a maze."

"Tragic."

"Oh yes," the knight said. "I think they're even going to adapt it into a stage play."

Aurum smiled. "I'll be sure to see it," he lied. "That is, of course, if I can afford to."

"Well, there shouldn't be any problem with that," the knight said. "We're all done. Would you like to inspect the figures?"

Aurum snatched the parchment, adjusting his monocles. He wanted to grab the little worm as well, but, well, friends in high places. Not even a dragon could fly above the laws of the land. Even if the land itself could be burnt asunder.

Now then…

It wasn't that bad, actually. The tax deduction would compound a lot of his losses. In fact, added all up, the tax men were only going to claim about a single village's worth of gold. And thankfully, they weren't demanding any platinum.

"I think that's all in order," Aurum said, making a claw mark and handing it back to the knight. "Is that all?"

"Oh yes," said the knight, making the parchment disappear. "Our collector will be around next week."

"I'll look forward to it."

It was a lie. Aurum knew it, the knight knew it, if any other living thing had been in the cave at that moment, it would have known it as well. But the law was the law. And again, only a village. Aurum could live with that.

"What's your name?" he asked as the knight began to walk out.

"Pardon?"

"Your name," Aurum repeated. "I would like to know."

So I can claim I destroyed the…no, not destroyed. No D's.

"My name…" the knight began.

Eradicated? Obliterated? Not incinerated, that's too cliché.

"It's George."

"George?" Aurum asked. I've heard that name before.

"Yes," said the knight. "I was a saint once. Head of a whole order. But then we started competing with the Commonwealth. Added to which were the Knights of Anz, who'd recently conquered the Kingdom of Nab, and-"

Aurum blew some flame.

"And, er, I'll be going now."

Please do so.

Aurum watched George leave. Imagining devouring him in a delicious manner that was also delicate before deciding that it was doubtful that using the letter D as designation would make much of a dent in the disastrous decisions dragons had made in allowing this decadence to descend to such deplorable depths.

And then he went back to sleep.