Herald of Shalia 5

by Tamryn Tamer

  “Complaints?” Madam Gardenia asked. “What are you talking about?”

  “The Swiftwing Company is claiming that killing their crew was unnecessary and that we were the aggressors,” Master Cawley said. “It’s not surprising given the circumstances. They need to protect their reputation and the best way is going on the offensive.”

  “Those are lies,” Madam Gardenia said. “There were witnesses.”

  “I know. The guards have already concluded their investigation and Captain Everston and his crew are being sent to the mines. Unfortunately, a representative of the Stormbow Company is now spinning similar yarns about how a Kina member of The Black Crown had her man mercilessly assault them last night. They are insisting on recompense.”

  “What?” Madam Gardenia snapped. “Those bastards attacked us! There were witnesses and…”

  “We already investigated it and we’re aware of what transpired,” Fletcher said. “But that doesn’t change the fact that things did happen. When word spreads about it, people will start to wonder if there’s some truth to what the Swiftwing are saying.”

  “You see the problem,” Master Cawley said. “If we accept you into our organization while these rumors swirl about, it’ll create trouble. It’s concerning.”

  “I think I understand,” Frost said, nodding as he stared at Master Cawley. “Would five-hundred thousand rel to help alleviate some of those concerns?”

  “Mother fucker…” Hillard growled.

  “Hillard, please,” Master Cawley chuckled. “Control yourself or step out.”

  “I believe a one-time payment of nine-hundred thousand rel would properly reflect the risk,” Master Cawley answered. “And you would still need to pay the annual fee of a hundred thousand rel.”

  “How convenient,” Frost chuckled. “And the trade permits and licenses will all be taken care of today?”

  “It normally takes a few days for…”

  “For a million rel they all get taken care of today,” Frost insisted. “I want to be licensed to do business by tomorrow.”

  “I suppose it’s possible,” Master Cawley said. “We could send word to the various boards and have them send officers over while the banker’s guild representatives assist you with the paperwork. If it’s that urgent.”

  “I have to make up for lost time,” Frost said. “So, we’re agreed, a million rel.”

  “Agreed,” Master Cawley nodded. “Out of curiosity, how much more would you have paid?”

  “How much less would you have taken?” Frost asked.

  “I suppose that is how it should be,” Master Cawley said. “Very well. Fletcher, Eldon, Hillard, you know what to do.”

  “Yes, Master Cawley,” Fletcher said as he rose up from his seat. “We’ll get the runners moving immediately.”

  The men all rushed off as Master Cawley led Frost and Madam Gardenia to the banker’s guild representatives. He had a few words with the representatives and moments later, four large stacks of paper were placed on the counter.

  “You did say you wanted to handle it all today,” Master Cawley said while gesturing to the large double doors leading out of the room. “Help yourself to one of the available rooms on the first or second floor. If you need anything feel free to ask one of the apprentices.”

  “Thanks for the hospitality,” Frost said while staring at the stacks of paper. Madam Gardenia grabbed two of the stacks and he grabbed the other two.

  “Congratulations,” Madam Gardenia said, leading Frost out of the room. The large door slammed shut behind him and Madam Gardenia let out a thankful sigh. “That went much smoother than expected. I think you really impressed him.”

  “He was surprisingly reasonable,” Frost said.

  “There’s a reason his uncle chose him as a successor instead of his own sons,” Madam Gardenia said. “Anyway, we better find a place to sit because this paperwork is going to take us all day.”

  CHAPTER 30

  The slave auction was located in the main hall of a large warehouse a few blocks away from the docks.

  There were four large entrances on the dock-facing side of the building and people were streaming into the building. On the inside, it looked like an abandoned factory. Rows of wooden chairs faced a large stage built along the western wall of the room. Paths were roped off from the northern and southern entrances which allowed the slaves to be walked to and from the stage. The entire scene was reminiscent of a cattle auction.

  “Will you be participating today sir?” a receptionist asked while staring at his small group.

  “Yes,” Frost answered while pulling out his permit. The woman took it and wrote his name in a ledger before handing him a paddle with the number twenty-four on it. “Thank you.”

  The room was primarily full of humans and all of them were staring at Frost. He heard several people mention the Stormbow Company as he walked by them. It seemed that word had spread and based on their expressions the rumors were beating the truth. Which wasn’t entirely unexpected since the rumors were being spread by humans while the truth was being spread by demihumans.

  Cassia gripped her sword while glaring at the other merchants in the room. Her hair was once again pulled back into a tight ponytail making her look several years younger and significantly more serious. Her white robe was dirty so she decided to wear her amethyst robe with a white cloak. Beneath the robe she was wearing white lingerie and her long white boots.

  Madam Gardenia was wearing her Black Crown attire with the embroidered scarf again and Frost matched her. He was wearing a black five-button tunic with a short standing collar and matching black dress pants. On his belt was his espada and in the breast pocket of the coat was a small white handkerchief with Black Crowns embroidered on it. He made the handkerchief from one of Madam Gardenia’s extra scarfs.

  “You must be Lord Sebastian,” a woman said as she approached with two large bodyguards. Both of the men smirked as they scanned him but their smiles vanished when they glanced at Cassia. “I’ve heard quite a bit about you. Which is remarkable given how recently you arrived. Oh, where are my manners? I’m Lady Sarra of the Hangman Company.”

  “Hangman?” Frost smirked. “That’s a rather ominous name.”

  “I suppose it is if you don’t know the history,” Lady Sarra said. “My grandfather was an executioner. It wasn’t a very prestigious position but it paid very well. He worked very hard to ensure that my father and uncle were well educated and even gave them the rel they needed to start their first business endeavor. Ironically, selling rope.”

  “I like that,” Frost said. “Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you Lady Sarra. Is there something I can do for you?”

  “I was hoping we might sit together,” she said. “Your demihumans as well of course. I’ve heard you’re rather fond of them. Although I heard you were accompanied by two Kina.”

  “The other is attending to some other business,” Madam Gardenia said. “And given recent events, Lord Sebastian decided to have his bodyguard accompany him.”

  “Yes,” she said knowingly. “The rumors are unfortunate for you. At the same time, they are very helpful to me. Merchants live and die on information so a merchant that believes that nonsense about you instigating the fight isn’t a merchant worth recruiting. Those that did their own independent research and discovered the truth on the other hand, are very talented. I must really thank you for helping me differentiate between the weeds and the flowers.”

  “Believe me when I say it was my pleasure,” Frost said.

  “Well, we best find our seats,” Lady Sarra said. “Do you have a preference?”

  “Not particularly,” Frost said while staring at the crowd. A little over half of the seats were taken but it didn’t seem like many more people were going to be arriving before it began. Nonparticipants watched from the side as the merchants slowly moved toward their places. Frost glanced at the large section in the back left. “There is fine.”

  “Very good,” Lady Sarra sai
d. The middle-aged woman turned to one of her bodyguards and smiled. “Would you be a dear and find me some refreshments?”

  “Yes ma’am,” the man said as he left the building.

  “Oh, and don’t be concerned about me interfering with your auction, Lord Sebastian,” she said politely. “I am here today scouting talent of a different variety.”

  “Merchants,” Frost said as he followed her to the seats.

  “Exactly,” Lady Sarra said as she sat down and pulled out a notebook. “I’m looking for people who I may want to do business with based on their judgement. A good merchant will underpay for contracts while a poor merchant will overpay.”

  “I’m afraid you won’t be getting much good information today,” Frost said as he took a seat next to her. Madam Gardenia sat down beside him and Cassia sat next to her. “I intend to overpay if necessary. Time has value so getting this out of the way quickly will save me more in the long run than shopping around for the best price.”

  “Thank you very much for the warning,” she said. “There’s still a lot to be learned by observing how people bid and when they drop out. Want to see?”

  “Sure,” Frost said. The woman showed him her ledger where all of the numbers were listed. Names were added beside certain numbers but several others were blank which suggested she didn’t know their names. Some of the numbers already had marks in their columns and two were crossed out. Frost noticed his name had yet to be marked. “So, you’ve already been judging.”

  “Very much,” she said. “Sometimes people prove themselves to be idiots very quickly. Other times it takes a while, oh, it’s starting.”

  An elderly man walked onto the stage with four men carrying various items. The elderly man stood behind the podium and one of the men put a stool down behind the old man while another placed a pitcher of water and glass on the stool. Once they were set up the men walked to the four corners of the stage and stood there.

  “Thank you all for coming,” the man said. “I will be the auctioneer for today. The Emerald Tide Company has secured the rights to over seventy-eight slaves that will be auctioned off today. The slave contracts are of varying natures, lengths, and values so we hope that there will be something for everybody today. There are criminals repaying their debts to society, debtors, and several that were purchased as slaves and brought to our shore. We hope for a lively auction and as always, a bid is a promise to pay. If you find yourself unable to pay, you will be banned from future auctions until restitution is paid. Anybody found to be purposefully driving up prices will also be investigated and their company will be banned for a minimum of three years from our auctions. Am I clear?”

  The room was silent as the old man glared at everybody.

  “Very good,” he said as he reached down to grab his water. “Now, we will start with the criminals.”

  A large angry-looking Durra was led onto the stage in a pair of basic pants and a tunic as the auctioneer explained that the man was guilty of a brutal assault on a Myrran shopkeeper and was sentenced to serve out a five-year contract.

  The bids were low and Frost wasn’t interested in the man. While he was sympathetic to various types of criminals, he couldn’t see an acceptable justification for assaulting a Myrran trying to run their store. It was possible that the shopkeeper did something to deserve the beating but he wasn’t about to save the guy without hearing about the crime.

  The next criminal was a surprisingly young human boy. He looked like he might be on the verge of tears as the auctioneer explained that the boy’s offense was being a pickpocket. It was the boy’s sixth offense and he was sentenced to a three-year slave contract as punishment.

  “Three thousand,” a man said while raising his paddle.

  “Three thousand and five hundred,” Frost said as he raised his paddle.

  “Three thousand and seven hundred,” a different man said.

  Frost started doing the math in his head. He figured if he pushed the kid to work for the tailoring guild five days a week for eight hours a day, he could easily generate ten to twenty rel worth of product a day. After materials and the boy’s living expenses it would probably result in about five to ten rel profit a day. He would use seven as the base and multiply it by two hundred and sixty days since the kid would need days off to rest. Frost figured that in three years the boy would generate about five and half thousand rel in profit. But that assumed the child never improved, which he would.

  “Five thousand,” Frost announced.

  “Five thousand and four hundred,” an aggravated looking man said.

  “Haru?” Frost glanced at the Kina. “How much is this child worth?”

  “It depends on how many days you intend to work him,” Madam Gardenia sighed. “I’m sure you did the math but I’m also sure that you did your math. They only need to keep the boy alive for three years which will require minimal food and shelter. They’ll also likely work him seven days a week.”

  “Six thousand,” Frost countered, aggravating the man further. He turned to Madam Gardenia. “How much profit a day is he generating?”

  “As a young male courtesan probably…”

  “Wait,” Frost stared at her in disbelief. “They intend to pimp that boy out?”

  “Most likely,” Madam Gardenia said while glaring at the man bidding against them. “I believe that man owns several brothels of varying qualities.”

  “Eight thousand!” the man announced as the crowd gasped.

  “Ten thousand,” Frost countered without hesitation, causing the man’s jaw to drop.

  “Ten thousand,” the auctioneer said while clearing his throat. “Do we have any other bids? No? Anymore? Ten thousand one hundred? No? Very well, sold to number twenty-four!”

  “Hm,” Lady Sarra glanced at him. “Ten thousand? Might I inquire as to how you intend to use the boy Lord Sebastian?”

  “I’ll teach him a trade,” Frost grumbled. “That little bastard is going to pay back every damn rel for quite literally saving his ass.”

  “And you had the audacity to judge me for making my girls pay me back for their contracts,” Madam Gardenia smugly. “Not so easy to be judgmental when you’re the one buying them, is it?”

  “This was different,” Frost said grumpily.

  “Hm,” Lady Sarra flipped her pen in her fingers while staring at his name. “A trade would only generate maybe a maximum of ten thousand and nine hundred and fifty rel over the life of that contract. That’s an awful lot of effort for only nine hundred and fifty rel.”

  “You underestimate Lord Sebastian’s training,” Cassia said smugly. “He has some of the most talented teachers in the world as well as an amazing headmistress at his disposal.”

  “Ah, I see,” Lady Sarra said. “Very interesting.”

  The auctioneer brought out more criminals and Frost ended up purchasing several young girls and boys that were guilty of pickpocketing and theft. The man bidding on children was clearly only interested in human children but Frost purchased the demihuman ones as well. He figured that if they didn’t have families in Goldsail, one of the baby crazy elves in his village would gladly take them in. Eventually, the man bidding on children got up and left the auction as he realized that Frost wasn’t going to let him win any for a reasonable price.

  The goal was to simply hide his real objective to prevent somebody else swooping in to purchase them. Frost wasn’t legitimately interested in purchasing any contracts other than the one he came for so he ignored most of the people being auctioned unless he felt compelled to purchase them. Naturally, he wasn’t compelled to rescue violent criminals even if they were demihumans.

  “I never thought I’d see the day,” Madam Gardenia said as Frost let two Durra women be purchased by somebody else. “You let women wander off to work hard labor.”

  “They killed some random person for money,” Frost said. “I like to consider specific circumstances before I make a decision.”

  Once the criminals were finished
the debtors were paraded up. The starting bids on debtors were much higher but so were the contracts. He was surprised by the number of humans being offered up as well as their high starting bids. Then again, the bids on demihumans fluctuated heavily as well.

  From what Frost gathered, a human’s starting price was the highest while the demihuman bids fluctuated greatly based on race and gender. A Durra male sold for twice what a Durra female sold for and an elf female sold for half of what a Durra female sold for. The less aesthetically appealing races like Diathen and Roden went for even less which Frost thought was a mistake. Roden had small dexterous hands which made them talented jewelers while Diathen were strangely gifted in agriculture and alchemy.

  “Aren’t you buying a few too many, Lord Sebastian?” Madam Gardenia asked as he purchased his third Diathen.

  “They’re so inexpensive,” Frost said. “I mean, I just purchased a twenty-year contract for thirty thousand rel.”

  “I agree that it’s a great value,” Madam Gardenia said while pinching his leg. “And I’m glad to see that you’re enjoying yourself. Especially looking back at how judgmental you were when I first told you about purchasing slave contracts.”

  Frost suddenly realized what Madam Gardenia was telling him. He’d gotten so caught up in how inexpensively he could purchase demihumans that he forgot that once they arrived back in his territory, he would be forced to release them from their contracts. He’d judged Madam Gardenia harshly for making her courtesans reimburse her for the rel she spent but if he didn’t want to be out his investment, he was likely going to end up doing the same.

  “Fuck,” Frost grumbled.

  “Is something wrong, Lord Sebastian?” Lady Sarra asked. He glanced down at her book and she hadn’t given him a single mark. “Have you overspent?”