Gold & Glory

by M. H. Johnson

  With that, the serving maid whose name was evidently Nancy brought in a tray with both an elegant carafe of red wine, and a plate of flaky pastries wafting forth a most delicious aroma of baked apples in a honey-sweetened crust. "Nancy, be so kind as to have Gole run over to the docks and fetch Kalek, please? Thank you, dear." With a second curtsy, the obsequious Nancy hurried on her way, and Pemith took the time to explain to the evidently interested youths further aspects of trade.

  Sorn nodded his understanding. "So a factor can determine which ships want to sell a share of their cargo, and determine a fair price and premium for most goods, as long as they are not too exotic. You also help prospective traders find ship captains with empty holds they would be happy to fill with our goods for either a flat fee or, in this case, a cut of the profits. In return for helping us find trade opportunities and honest partners, factors are compensated with a cut of any profits.”

  Smiling, Pemith nodded. "You have a solid grasp of the fundamentals, master Sorn. Sometimes, as in the case of Kalek, opportunity dictates price. It is a very short trip to York, but Kalek's ships are available and presently empty, so they are our best option, and he knows it, so is charging a share that otherwise would not be warranted. On the other hand, we were able to negotiate such that he will get no share until after the 15 gold royals for ten standard wagons worth of grain is reached. Fifteen royals would itself be an exorbitant sum for ten wagonloads of grain normally, yet at present, it is what the market would easily bear here in Pormar, with all the grain options being exercised.”

  Sorn gave a polite nod, still digesting all that he had been told. "Truly, it seems that having a good factor is a wise investment all in itself!" To this Pemith gave a surprised snort of laughter, at which point a servant discretely opened the door.

  "Kalek is here, Mr. Pemith," the giant of a man gently rumbled, his large, stoop-shouldered frame silhouetted against the door. Pemith beamed happily upon hearing the news. "Excellent! Send the man in, Gole, send him in. Wine, Mr. Kalek?"

  Sorn wrinkled his nose as a portly man of middling height, shivering faintly in his thick wool coat, entered the room. He possessed watery blue eyes that peered about as if in perpetual surprise, focusing long on nothing until he spied the wine. He made his way straight to the carafe and gladly accepted a glass of the rich red fare, pulling back the hood of his cloak as he did so. His limp curls, now a faded yellow gray, were pushed back from his face with an unconscious gesture, his attention focused solely on the red wine until he had drunk it down entire, like a man dying of thirst. "Miserable weather," he said, refilling his glass from the carafe, hands with a slight tremor nonetheless taking care not to spill a drop. This glass too he drank in its entirety before focusing on Pemith and the youths. His blinking glassy-eyed stare and bright red nose, a bulbous maze of broken capillaries, served as telltale signs that this had not been the first couple of drinks to cross his lips that afternoon. Indeed, it appeared that the man probably had more than a passing familiarity with wine and stronger drink on a regular basis, if the stink of raw spirits mixed with ocean spray and tar were anything to go by. "Who are these children?" he said after a puzzled moment, earning four pairs of very irritated glares.

  Pemith sighed. "These, Mr. Kalek, are your venture partners for this voyage. Lord Canterbier sold them the grain, which is now theirs, and all the papers are in order. Shall we proceed?"

  "These children brought the grain? Do you mean their parents?"

  "No, sir Kalek," Pemith said, enunciating carefully. "These four gentlemen own it in their own right, as these papers attest. The contracts are laid out with the terms as per our previously outlined agreement, and as soon as we have signed them, we will be able to load the grain upon the barges. However, the youths will be accompanying you to York instead of Lord Canterbier's armsmen, and will, of course, serve as well in the capacity of guard and help to defend your ship, on the miniscule chance such will be necessary. Canterbier's man Jesren tells me that they are well-trained in swordcraft despite their youth, so fear not on that account. Of course, they will still be meeting up with my associate in York to finish the trade, as per our original arrangement."

  A nervous looking Kalek spent some moments staring at the youths, his hands pouring yet another cup of wine greedily sipped before answering. He abruptly smiled and nodded his accord with the change in plans. "Yes, it shall be as you say. I am sure these four boys are fine swordsmen." He gave the four youths a condescending smile. "They shall accompany my ships in place of Lord Canterbier's guardsmen. And when we get to York, we will meet with the factor there, as we have agreed."

  His nervousness seemed to have abated, though he still swayed the slightest tad when he stood up and signed the documents Pemith presented without hesitation. Upon Pemith's nod of encouragement, the four youths signed the documents, but not before Sorn had politely asked to look it over, earning himself a peeved look from Kalek and a smile of approval from Pemith. Finding it to be as Pemith had explained, and only asking twice for a curious expression in legalese to be deciphered, Sorn added his signature alongside his cousins.

  Thus the terms were agreed upon with smiles and handshakes all around, though the youths couldn't help being discomfited by how clammy Kalek's grip was, and how he seemed uncomfortable looking them in the eye. As they made their way outside, with Kalek making his way to the carts to give one or two a perfunctory once-over, the factor Pemith spoke quietly to Sorn. "Yes, I too note he seems a bit too fond of the drink, though in truth, he didn't seem quite so distracted or thirsty when we originally contacted him with a possible shipment for his barges. The man, rumor tells, has a certain amount of debt, albeit modest, and considering his empty hold and lack of capital to fill it, he needs this venture far more than you.

  "Considering that we treated him fairly, and the trip is a short and straightforward one, there should be no cause for concern. Still, I apologize for his state, and can only say that he is by no means the first merchant in troubled waters with too strong a taste for drink or excess, and if you think about it, that can be a fine lesson in its own right." With a final solemn handshake, the factor left Sorn and his cousins with the wagon train, now steadily making its way to the docks.

  As the midday passed, the perpetual rain that had steadily soaked everyone save Sorn for the last day and a half had eased from a steady downpour to a light shower to what was now little more than a steady drizzle, leaving the air damp and chill, though not so bad as before.

  Sorn noted how the passing buildings quickly lost their luster as they approached the pier itself. Not hovels, certainly, just a bit worn and shabby looking, most in need of new tar, or repairs of one sort or another. So too it seemed that every few buildings opened onto a tavern, the sounds of clanking tankards, raucous laughter, and occasional singing echoing forth intermittently as patrons entered and left the various establishments.

  Many of the denizens of this area also appeared a bit more worn about the edges than did those of the upper city as they went about their business, their cloaks patched and boots well worn. These individuals were of course just a part of the crowd that included well-to-do looking merchants hurrying busily from one building to another, or seamen with their rolling gates that took them, like as not, from one tavern to the next.

  It was busy but calm, and the group made their way to the pier and to Kalek's two ships without incident. Even from here, however, Sorn thought that Kalek's ships looked well-weathered, and were considerably smaller than many of the ocean-going vessels majestically riding the waves nearby. Jesren went on to quietly inform Sorn that those majestic ships were the true traders of the sea, pennants of a dozen nations flapping in the breeze, with cargo holds capable of holding many wagonloads of goods as the ship navigated its way, by stars as like as not, to foreign ports across the seas themselves. Far different from Kalek's humble pair of ships, little more than barges, really, which would be sailing within sight of shore at all times as they made their
way to York to the south.

  Jesren formally shook each of the four youths' hands as the armsmen and sailors worked together to load up the ships with grain. "Take care of yourselves, lads, and take advantage of the Academies at York. Lord Canterbier has a bit more influence than he may have let on, my young friends, so you need not be intimidated by the staff of either institution. Just show them the papers and you should be fine, provided you're willing to work and study hard. When you contact Jesere, Lord Canterbier's factor in York, and now by letter of introduction your factor as well, she will finish negotiations on your behalf with the mystery buyer in question for the grain. By all means, accept whatever sum she has arranged, and don't hesitate on the 5% share of the profits she will take on behalf of her and Pemith both. They will have earned it."

  Jesren flashed an almost fatherly grin. "Again, lads, should all go well, I know it will be tempting to trade further, but I strongly suggest you take up Lord Canterbier's offer and train at the academies instead. The skills you learn there will serve you in good stead, and will always be a part of you, though wealth may come and go. Lord Canterbier would encourage you to follow Jesere's lead on where to put your wealth, probably putting it on loan to a reputable lending organization which will pay you interest on the gold you lend them, every year! This will keep your money very safe and allow you to concentrate on your studies. But whatever you decide to do, know that we all wish you well, and that you will always be made welcome at Lord Canterbier's estate!"

  With a final farewell from Jesren, followed by a cheer from the men who had finished loading merchant Kalek's two ships, Lord Canterbier's soldiers left the docks, wagons in tow, as the four youths made their way up the ramp to the first of Kalek's boats. Kalek, it appeared, by dint of his impatient gestures, was all too ready to get a move on.

  For all his agitated haste to get on board, Kalek seemed largely indifferent to the crew's efforts once they had raised the planks, staring vacantly off to sea for some moments while his barge ships slowly made their way out of port. When he turned to address his new passengers, he did so in a voice ripe with condescension. "Okay, children, Reigland will be piloting our boat, so let us keep away from him and his busy men, shall we?"

  Kalek pointed to a grim-looking man, face contorted in a dark scowl seemingly at the ship entire. Thick arms crossed over his large frame, he appeared the quintessential brooding captain, topknot blowing in the breeze as he glared at his crew. He wore a cutlass fastened to belt and leather breeches, his torso bare save for an open leather vest despite the drizzle and pervading chill. The men under him wore similar outfits, though they had daggers sheathed at their belts instead of cutlasses.

  With a beckoning hand, Kalek led the four youths down into the hull below, lit by one lamp rocking gently with the boat. "Your quarters are down here, boys. Men will bring food to you during meal times," Kalek said upon entering a small little stateroom complete with four bunks that had been bolted to the hold.

  Sorn sighed. How anyone could expect four people to coexist in such a confined space was beyond comprehension. There was barely room for the chair and small desk, also bolted to the floor of the hold, no doubt intended as a writing table. One would literally have to go from bunk to chair to get to the desk, or climb over the chair directly, as there was little more than an inch clearance from chair to bed. Also, Sorn noted that the door could be barred, but only from the outside, strangely enough. He did not see any inside locks.

  "Oh, look!" Kalek said animatedly, pointing at several wine skins laid about the narrow bunks. "We were meaning to gift Lord Canterbier's men with wine to help them settle their stomachs, as well as in appreciation for the wonderful trade opportunity he was wise enough to venture into with us. Well, since you boys are the new owners of the grain shipment, I suppose the wine is yours!" His smile looked more like a grimace, Sorn thought, and it never touched his glassy eyes. Sorn couldn't help wondering if the man was on something stronger than wine, and the man's condescension was beginning to make Sorn's teeth ache. Probably because he was grinding them.

  "Excuse me, Kalek?" Sorn began. "You are not expecting us to spend all our time in these rather cramped quarters, I hope. We were hoping for an opportunity to explore the ship and maybe learn a thing or two about sailing." At least he was, Sorn conceded to himself. "In any case, we would far prefer to be up above, enjoying the fresh air and watching the shoreline as we sailed by, as opposed to spending all our time in what you will have to admit are rather cramped quarters."

  Kalek frowned. It appeared that he didn't like Sorn’s question one bit.

  "You want to learn something about sailing. All right. The first rule of sailing is that you keep out from underfoot of those with a job to do!" Kalek’s syrupy tone had turned nasty in an eye-blink, his voice raised to a sudden shout. With a shuddering breath, the high-strung Kalek continued on in a more civil tone. "We don't have time for children getting in the way on deck. So why don't you be good lads and just sit here, relax, and drink your wine? It will be better for everyone, I assure you."

  Whatever Kalek had hoped to achieve with his syrupy condescension and mercurial tirade, assuming that he had intended anything at all, all he received for his troubles were a number of cold, assessing stares. Kalek blanched and looked away.

  "First of all, Kalek," Sorn began coldly, "we are your trade partners, not children. As such, we expect to be treated with the respect and dignity such a position entails. Which at the very least includes courtesy, and not being treated as if we were an unwanted nuisance. And that damn well includes the right to purview the ship and look in at our cargo, any time we want to! You obviously need the fare from this cargo every bit as much as we need a ship to carry it, so I would suggest that you knock off the condescension as well."

  Sorn's cousins were snickering at that point. They, at least, were enjoying the byplay.

  Kalek looked startled to be so confronted with Sorn's frosty tone. "Don't talk back to your betters." Kalek finally replied after looking frozen for a number of seconds, as if his somewhat inebriated mind wasn't quite sure what to do with Sorn's unexpected reaction. He paused, forcing a more conciliatory expression upon his features.

  "The men above are busy fixing the rigging and adjusting the sails for wind. Once we get out a bit and set a steady course, then you are welcome to come up and watch the coastline to your hearts' content, though it will probably bore you to tears soon enough. Please don't ask the sailors any stupid questions, and stay out of our way. In the meantime, stay here, as right now you'll just be under everybody's feet. I'll let you know when you can come up above. Trust me, boys, you'd be a lot happier with the wine." No longer hiding the disdain he felt, at least Kalek's voice was now free of the syrupy condescension that had made Sorn's teeth grate. Kalek then left them, muttering to himself as he made his tipsy way back up the hold to the deck above.

  "My, my, temperamental little merchant, isn't he?" noted a bemused Fitz.

  Hanz nodded in agreement with his brother's words. "Oh yes, and did you catch a whiff of the man's breath? Yeesh. If he breathed near a torch, his breath would be hotter than a dragon's!"

  Lieberman snickered. "That guy does seem a bit over the top. What kind of drink is he on anyway?"

  "More than red wine, that's for sure," Sorn replied. "Well, an interesting beginning to our journey, no? And did any of you guys notice that the door to this room has a bar on the outside? I mean isn't the purpose of a lock to keep people out, not in? I got a good impression of Pemith, but this, as Lieberman so aptly put it, is a bit over the top." The trio, as evidenced by their nods, were in complete agreement.

  "Well, as long as we're here, we might as well do a bit of long term speculating. So, what do you guys think of training at their academies?"

  Lieberman gave this a moment's thoughtful contemplation before replying. "Well, learning how to ride a horse and wear armor and fight like a knight might be fun, buy I don't know if I want to spend all my days liste
ning to long lectures at their Arcane Academy. That sounds kind of boring. And even if they did start to teach us magic without too many lectures, learning spells gets tiring after a while, and who wants to spend all morning fencing and fighting and then have to spend all afternoon studying till you get a headache? Soon none of it would be any fun, and we would all end up with migraines!"

  "Yeah," Fitz agreed. "When would we have time to do what we wanted to do? This is supposed to be an adventure, right?"

  To this, Sorn could only sigh and shake his head. "Okay, guys, knowing your attention spans, I'll admit that training at two academies might be a bit much for you. And the last thing I would want is for the three of you to get restless and bored. Goodness only knows what would happen to York at that point, or what you guys would get yourselves into."

  Sorn flashed an encouraging grin. "But at the same time, for as long as we end up in York, it would be good to get something out of it, no? And you guys do need something to occupy yourselves with, for as bad as you all get when you feel overwhelmed, I know for a fact that you're a lot worse when you have nothing to do at all!"

  The three brothers couldn't help looking a bit sheepish at that, seeing as how Sorn had all too often been the one sent to fish them out of trouble, when they were younger.

  "So here is what I propose. For as long as we stay in York, assuming that we do stay in York, we will all study at one academy or the other during the mornings, and claim duties elsewhere during the afternoons. Those will be our own, and I am sure that we can find 'something' to do. Under my supervision, of course."

  It was a concerned looking Fitz who spoke up at that point. "Sorn, what happens if we get hungry? You know how it gets when we haven't eaten well for a while, and you remember what our mom did to us once before, when she was trying to prove a point to you, Sorn."