The Dragon's Banker

by Scott Warren

  I shrugged. “You showed them a thing they thought impossible. Now they can think of little else. There are plenty of skilled captains with more bravery than coin—and a willingness to demonstrate the former in exchange for the latter. It was only a matter of time, but I had hoped to have some months yet before your designs were copied so closely.”

  “It’s headed for Dancin’s shipyard,” said Tokt. “That must be where its berthed.”

  “Then we’ve no time to lose. Jassem, do you know the way?”

  The elf nodded and slid away from the roof. It was time to get a closer look at Sea Splitter.

  Full dark was well underway by the time we approached the drydock between Barron Dancin’s office and his warehouses. The shipyard had recently erected canvas privacy screens, and we now knew why. Before I could voice dissent, Jassem produced a small knife that he used to slip inside the northwest corner, and Tokt followed. Not wanting to abandon my co-conspirators or waste a perfectly good torn canvas, I followed.

  The crew of Sea Splitter was disembarking as we found an elevated spot away from wandering eyes. I was afforded a clear view, and even in the low light of the oil lanterns, I could see the extent of the damage to Brackwaldt’s new ship. The sides were scraped and torn, the mast cracked almost in half, and much of the rigging was shredded beyond repair. The bowsprit had taken so many collisions it looked more like a tight bale of splinters than a solid wooden beam, and the anchor chain ended in a warped ring of iron resting against splintered wood. It was, unfortunately, a solid attempt at Andil’s Hammer.

  Beyond the battered vessel, the light also revealed a set of six more ships being constructed concurrently. All possessed the same low, narrow profile of Ur’s Gift, and all showed varying discoloration on the keel and hull below the draft line. One or two looked nearly complete, the rest two weeks or more from seaworthiness. We had three ships and two more under construction, but it would not be long before Brackwaldt’s fleet dwarfed ours. He had the resources to throw hulls at Andil’s Hammer until he forged a captain and vessel combo capable of conquering the Kraken’s Teeth.

  “How is he paying for all this?” asked Tokt. “I would have thought his funds limited after—”

  “That’s not important,” I said. Neither Tokt nor any of my other staff were privileged to the existence of Brackwaldt’s new benefactor, who was likely offering a nearly inexhaustible supply of gold. I could hardly go around announcing that my competition had teamed up with a dragon. After all, I had done it too.

  With his contacts in Aedekki and Lethorn for timber and a fine supply of cotton and canvas in Borreos, there was only one thing he lacked to complete his mimicry: a pot of the water-repelling alchemical unguent. The differences in the hulls’ stains suggested that various formulas were being trialed until the proper mixture was revealed. I wasn’t sure how close the shipwrights were, but we had some leeway yet before they ferreted out the correct mixture.

  I wondered if there were not a way to delay them even further.

  “Jassem,” I whispered.

  The elf’s ears twitched, and he cast a sidelong glance at me.

  “Go and get some of your hull treatment.”

  “What for?” he asked.

  “I want to apply it to that ship if we can get down there without being seen,” I said, pointing at the next vessel in terms of completion.

  Tokt coughed but quickly covered it. “You want to help them get through the Hammer?”

  I grinned. “It’s only polite that we offer a hand. After all, they’ve invested so much in these vessels. Once they see that their next one holds the key to Andil’s Hammer, I’m sure Brackwaldt will be quick to apply that ship’s formula to the rest of his fleet.”

  “But it won’t be the right formula,” said Jassem. “They’ll believe… chains!” Jassem returned my grin with a flash of tiny sharp teeth. “You’re as devious as any of your kind, Sailor.”

  It was unclear whether that remark was meant as a compliment, but I chose not to respond as Jassem retreated through his improvised entrance. He made little more noise than a copper penny falling in a bed of down. Most of the sailors limped their way out of the lower shipyard in the time it took Jassem to run back to his studio and return with a small pot and some rags. The Hammer had not been any gentler with the crew than it had with the ship.

  You might recall that one of my dictations to Lady Arkelai was an embargo on cheating, stealing, or acting in bad faith on behalf of Alkazarian. While our current activity certainly skirted the rule of both law and ethics, I felt justified. Brackwaldt’s ships were paid for with the same illicit gold that ours were, and the designs had been stolen through skullduggery and subterfuge. Both of us were acting outside the Crown’s view, and so actions here did not bear concern for the Queen’s justice. I would like to claim that it was just business, but there was certainly a personal edge to it.

  Despite the presence of the oil lamps, the shipyard played host to a plethora of deep shadows and gullies that allowed us to descend near the sea berths and among the splintered ribs of those ships under construction. I will not lie and say that I was calm and collected, for in truth my heart beat as hard and fast as though I was staring at the face of Alkazarian himself. If we were caught, there could be real consequences for us. Not so much as a result of breaking the law, but because we were currently outside its protection. That canvas privacy screen could also screen any violence levied against trespassers.

  Jassem and Tokt went to work with the unguent, rubbing soaked rags against the hull until the amber sludge was accepted by the wood of the bow and keel. Our treatment would give this ship the same water-cutting properties that allowed Ur’s Gift to cut through the water at seventeen knots, and I felt that the price of the lost volume of unguent would be more than made up for by the likely chance that the remainder of the ships would be piloted by overconfident captains believing their vessels capable of defeating the Kraken’s Teeth.

  I was so preoccupied with the notion of seeing these ships damaged beyond use that I failed to notice shadows approaching in the night until snippets of conversation began to pierce my daydreams. My companions had already frozen, having less preoccupation and much more caution than the Twin Mothers had bestowed upon me.

  I glanced left and right. It quickly became clear that in a few moments our position would be revealed and all three of us would be caught. If we were seen to be tampering with one of Brackwaldt’s ships, there was little chance his agents would show clemency.

  At a time when such high-risk ventures offer the very real probability of a total loss of assets, it is sometimes favorable to cut losses and sacrifice a portion of your resources to preserve the remnant. To wit, I left Tokt and Jassem and stepped from the shadows into the lantern light, beginning to whistle a low tune as I walked toward the approaching figures. The shadows stopped. One hoisted the light of a bull’s-eye lantern toward me. I ceased my whistle and covered my eyes.

  “What have we ’ere? You forget to leave with the rest?”

  “Sleeping on the job, I wager?”

  It was fortunate my face was mostly covered by my hand, as I recognized the voices as belonging to the twin thugs employed by Brackwaldt. One with several golden teeth and another who favored silver threading on his coat. It was likely one or both would have recognized me through my paltry disguise. I am not blessed with one of those faces, and in fact have been told on several occasions that my bone structure is quite unique (though no one seems to be able to explain specifics).

  “If’n you please, sirs,” I said in my best impression of a provincial accent, which to me came across as a poor imitation of Cas, “I were only finishing with the ballast.”

  I had only a vague idea of what ballast actually entailed, having heard the term once or twice somewhere in relation to sailing. But it seemed to satisfy Gold and Silver, who turned the lantern toward the battered hull of Sea Splitter and away, thankfully, from Jassem and Tokt.

  “
You oughtn’t have bothered,” said Gold, shining a light on the myriad punctures in the left side of the ship and the splintered deck around the stem of the mast.

  “She’s not like to sail again,” said Silver. “Ought to have put her under in the bay ’stead of bringing her back.”

  “I’d have still been on board, begging your pardons,” I said.

  “All the better,” said Gold. He made as if to walk past me but put a shoulder into my chest as he passed. I had not expected or prepared for the display of pointless barbarism, and it laid me completely out on the boards of the shipyard.

  That got a laugh out of Silver, and he shined the lantern on me once again. This time, I was too busy trying to get my hands under me to hide my face, and my heart began to pound as I heard the sharp intake of breath. “Twins’ tits!” said Silver. “Look who it is!”

  I tried to climb to my feet, but rough hands gripped me around the upper arms, thick fingers completely encircling both limbs with a grip like iron chains. A face with several golden teeth (and one or two others missing besides) thrust itself into the lantern light and scowled. Blinded by the light, I could not see my companions, but I hoped they’d capitalized on my sacrifice and escaped or secured better hiding spots.

  “Six Gates,” said Gold. “It’s Sailor Kelstern.” His astonishment turned into a grin. “No old lady what to save you this time?” he asked.

  “Where’s she at?” asked Silver, not quite managing to disguise the tremor of fear in his voice.

  “She’s never far,” I replied in my best attempt to sound intimidating. I believe, looking back on it, that my voice cracked twice.

  Pain erupted in my abdomen, and all breath flew from my lungs and refused to return. It took several heartbeats for me to realize one of them had struck me in the stomach, and it occurred to me that neither was impressed with my bravado. Without the dragon’s daughter to fight my battles, I offered no physical threat.

  “I owed you that,” said Gold.

  “And here’s the interest,” said Silver, raising his fist.

  “Wait!” I coughed out. Silver hesitated. Genuine fear gripped me, fear as real as that which I’d felt standing before Alkazarian. When it came down to reality, the twins could take my life from me almost as easily as any dragon. And here in the privacy of Barron Dancin’s shipyard, there was little chance of reprisal.

  I heaved a ragged, painful breath and continued. “You need me.”

  Gold barked a laugh. “How ye figure?”

  “I’m the only way for you to get back in Brackwaldt’s good graces,” I said.

  “What makes you think we ain’t?” sneered Silver.

  “Because you’re walking the docks at midnight,” I replied. Silver raised his fist again, but Gold grabbed his wrist.

  “Hold a whit. May as be he’s right. We can take him to Brackwaldt. Let the lord decide what to do from there.”

  Silver frowned. “Nothing says we can’t rough ’im up a bit first,” he said. His twin brother considered this. And then shrugged.

  Both then gave me a thrashing to rival any trip through Andil’s Hammer.

  Chapter 28 – Hostile Takeovers

  I will not avail you of such clichés as the world going dark upon my being struck in the head and awakening in captivity. Rather, I reserve such things for Lady Arkelai. I regret to inform you that I was lucid for the entirety of the savage bruising I received under the fists and feet of the Gold and Silver twins. Upon their satisfaction that all accounts were settled in full, the brothers took me north through the city to Lord Brackwaldt’s estate.

  During my time in Lord Brackwaldt’s employ, I had never called upon him at his manor house. Most of his lands were in the northern reaches of Borreos, and I suppose it made sense for him to claim something on the outskirts of the capital that would lessen his travel time, even though it was not in the wealthiest of districts.

  The twins brought me through a service entrance, through a kitchen already thriving with the early hours of bakers and chefs, and left me in a room adjacent to the dining hall from which I heard a key turn in a solid brass lock. The manor staff had left the room unfurnished. There was little to be had in the way of comfort as I eased my aching body onto the bare stone floor as slowly as I was able and leaned my bruised back against the wall. Despite the severity of my situation and my myriad aches, my stomach growled at the scents of breadmaking filtering through the small vent. I had not eaten since breakfast of that day—or rather the day before. I was unclear on the exact time of my arrival. The smells were my only indication of the passage of time, and eventually the odor of yeast and fresh dough was joined by an aroma of yoghurt, turmeric, and cumin. Once the fragrances of tea and sizzling lamb crept in, I knew it must be nearing time for Lord Brackwaldt to break his fast.

  Heavy footsteps and a key turning in that heavy brass lock proved me right. The twins collected me from the floor with no more delicacy than that with which they had made the deposit the night before. I offered no resistance, mostly because there was no resistance I could offer. But some part of me was curious. The brief exchange in Barron Dancin’s shipping office was the longest exchange I’d had with the nobleman since he had dropped me from his employ.

  I was frog-marched into a long dining hall where a lone figure sat at the head of the table with an array of food and beverages, stirring a cup of tea as he perused a print of yesterday’s news.

  “Master Kelstern,” he said without looking up as Gold and Silver dropped me into the chair. My eyes were still adjusting to the light, but I resisted the urge to lift my hand or squint. I did straighten as I felt a sharp prick at the small of my back, recognizing that one of the twins held a knife to my flesh. I remained still, waiting for Lord Brackwaldt.

  From his name and villainous status in this telling, you might picture a gaunt man, black of hair with a narrow-trimmed beard. But you’d be mistaken. Instead, the nobleman was tall and paunched, with a northern olive complexion and matte copper hair. He did, in fact, have a narrow-trimmed beard, to which he raised his tea with thick fingers and slurped as he continued to read the thin print. I stewed in my seat. It was in his nature for others to wait on his pleasure. And truth told, Lord Brackwaldt had me at quite a disadvantage.

  Once he had finished both his tea and his news, he set the paper down and fixed me with a stare.

  “It seems to me that the most interesting bit of news didn’t make it to print last night. I’ve been told my shipyard was penetrated by a most unscrupulous scoundrel.”

  “Indeed,” I said. “Two of them. It’s good that I was there to intervene.”

  Brackwaldt’s eyes flicked up to Gold and Silver behind me, and I could have sworn I saw the hint of humor before he mastered his face. His eyes stayed hard, and when they returned to meet mine, all evidence of mirth vanished from his countenance.

  “What were you really doing there?” he asked.

  “Snooping,” I admitted. “I heard about Sea Splitter’s trial at Andil’s Hammer, and I wanted to see for myself how closely you copied our design.”

  A servant passed through with coffee from west of the Redfangs and poured two cups. I briefly considered an appeal for help, but likely would have been gutted on the spot, and damn any witnesses. Brackwaldt pushed a cup toward me and took the other for himself. I looked at it but hesitated to drink.

  Brackwaldt sighed. “Come now, Master Kelstern. I would not stoop to such low measures. Only one of us has demonstrated a propensity for such roguish behavior. Property damage and trespassing are hardly becoming of you, though I do expect you to pay for that canvas. Now drink.”

  I did as commanded. Though coffee was not my drink of choice, it had a smooth texture soured by the hand’s span of steel at my back. Brackwaldt began the rest of his breakfast as he spoke.

  “The past months have been interesting for you, I imagine,” said Brackwaldt. “I admit, you managed to outmaneuver me and even turned Tilia’s little disaster into a profit-g
enerating venture.”

  My face must have betrayed some of my surprise.

  “Yes, I know about that,” Brackwaldt continued. “Spardeep’s financials were a poorly kept secret for years. You’ve regrouped. But for how long? Soon, your mine may sputter, your ships will be outnumbered, and your caravans will be empty.”

  “Perhaps,” I offered. “If that comes to pass, then I suppose I shall no longer worry you.”

  This time Brackwaldt made no effort to hide a smile, which turned into a chuckle and progressed into a full belly laugh.

  “Master Kelstern. You do not worry me now. Dragon’s Daughter Trading is a smart little venture—and I must wonder where these newfound wits were hiding while you squandered my fortunes—but it is still a little venture,” said Brackwaldt.

  A servant came through to clear his plate and replace it with a fresh pastry piled high with a candied squash yoghurt. It looked positively divine, and I had seen its like in the windows of bakers catering to those of his social stature. It had been garnished with a sprig of something.

  Spearmint, I realized.

  Brackwaldt continued around bites of his dessert. “I do believe that under different leadership it could grow. Dragon’s Daughter could benefit from my experience and connections. Therefore, I am willing to buy out your contract and whatever personal stake you hold in related ventures.”

  He snapped his fingers several times, and one of his clerks appeared with a thick leather-bound ledger. “I believe,” he said, leaning over the fine vellum pages, “that this includes a forty percent stake in the elf’s shipwright, half a controlling interest in Kuvtka’s Freight, and a personal loan of twenty thousand silver pieces owed to a man who, very curiously, has come to be in your employ.”

  He looked up. “Is this correct?”

  “More or less,” I said. Most of it was a matter of public record, and one of my provisions with Arkelai had been that our ventures would be as above-board as possible. Brackwaldt had missed the alchemical company I used to mask Jassem’s alchemical unguent, but if he acquired my stake in Bol’s Shipwright, he would gain the formula anyway.