"Master Westfall," Hermes said, "I acknowledge your power over me. I do indeed have to obey you.

Tell me what it is you want, and let us waste no further time."

"That's more like it," Westfall said. "First I want a sack of gold coins, fine minted and capable of being spent where and how I please. English, Spanish, or French coins will do nicely, but no Italian ones—they always clip the edges. I also want an Old English sheepdog, a pedigreed one like the King has. That'll do for a start, but I'll have more requests after that."

"As many as I want!" Westfall cried. "Because I've got the amulet!" He flourished it, and Hermes winced with pain.

"Not so hard! I'll get your stuff! Give me a day or two!" And so saying, Hermes disappeared.

Hermes had no difficulty putting together the items Westfall wanted. He kept bags and bags of gold coin in a cave under the Rhine, in the care of dwarfs who had been out of work since Gotterdammerung. The Old English sheepdog was no great trouble, either — Hermes easily kidnapped one from a kennel near Spottiswode. Then he returned to Westfall's chamber in York.

Chapter 5

Good dog. Now go lie in the corner," Westfall said. The half-grown Old English sheepdog looked at him and barked.

"He's not very well trained," Westfall said.

"Hey, you didn't say anything about him being trained," Hermes replied. "He's got a pedigree as long as your arm."

"He's a good-looking dog," Westfall acknowledged, "and the gold pieces are satisfactory." He had a mess of them in a small stout leather bag at his feet.

"I'm glad you're satisfied," Hermes said. "Now if you will just tell this amulet that you release me and that I am no longer in your power, we can each of us get on with our own business."

"Not so fast!" Westfall said. "I still have a number of wishes I want you to grant."

"But I'm busy!" Hermes complained.

"You must be patient. I'll need you around for a while longer, my dear Trismegistus, and if you do what I ask, after that I'll consider releasing you."