by Brom Kearne
16
Even though Josh Varick knew that there was nothing they could do for Mr. Pith, he still felt compelled to give the impression that he was doing something, and so lent his buggy to Owen Baker to go over the river and bring back the police and a doctor.
Thorn and a few others worked to uncap the well while the rest of the farmers dug a trench around the house to contain the fire. The night wind fought against their efforts by spreading embers over the dry fields. Once the well was uncapped they were able to flood the house and the surrounding fields with enough water to saturate it, allowing the other farmers to breathe a heavy sigh of relief that their own properties and meager crops were safe.
After Mr. Pith died in the early morning they moved his body to the Varick’s house and laid him out for his wake. The Pith house had burned down to its smoking remains. Owen Baker returned in the early morning as the sun was peaking over the horizon. He came in with a doctor that Thorn recognized as having been at the hospital the night before. Mr. Pith had been dead for hours, so there was little the doctor could do except to verify the death and make a record of it. After doing that he examined Mrs. Pith and, finding nothing terribly wrong with her except for her emotional state, gave her something to help her sleep.
Josh Varick’s sitting room was packed with people. Even those farmers who didn’t come to the meeting the night before were here now. News of the fire and of Mr. Pith’s death had spread quickly, and everyone came out of stunned disbelief that something like this could happen in their own little farming community. As the morning progressed that stunned disbelief gave way to anger.
Even though most of these farmers had been opposed to Josh Varick to the point that they had nearly come to blows the night before, they now looked to him as their de facto leader in the absence of Mr. Pith. And Josh Varick still didn’t quite know what to do. For him this situation had moved beyond the point of lawsuits, especially when Owen Baker told him that the police were not coming.
“They said there’s nothing they can do.”
“But they can find the time to force Mr. Pith to cap his well?” Josh Varick said.
Owen shrugged.
“They can find the time to put liens against our farms for not paying our taxes? They can find the time to fine us, and write us citations for not complying with their idiotic laws?”
The other farmers nodded and agreed with each sentence that came from Josh Varick’s mouth. They shared his outrage, and they were glad that he had finally come to their side of thinking. None of this was going to be solved with a lawsuit.
Some of the farmers’ wives were in attendance, and more streamed in after they helped put Mrs. Pith to bed. They shared the outrage with their husbands, and became an even more vocal push for something to be done. Marie Varick did not join them, as usual. She had excused herself early on to her bedroom with a headache.
Thorn noticed Eli Varick standing in the doorway watching everyone. While the rest of the farmers were working themselves into a frenzy Thorn slipped out the back, circled around through the hallway, and grabbed Eli from behind. He clamped a hand over the boy’s mouth as he shoved him against the wall out of view from the sitting room.
“I’ve had enough of your crap,” Thorn said, tightening his forearm against Eli’s throat to squeeze off his air supply. “You’re going to tell me everything you know about the Amber Bones, and you’re going to do it now. Nod your head if you understand me.”
Eli wasn’t fighting. He was gasping for breath but his eyes were wide and fearful. He nodded.
Thorn hissed, “Where are they? How can I find them?”
He released the pressure from his forearm enough for Eli to be able to talk. “I don’t know,” he whispered.
Thorn pressed his forearm back hard. “That’s not what I wanted to hear. Do you see all those people in there? They’re out for blood. What do you think they’re going to do when I tell them that you’re part of the gang that killed one of their own?”
Eli shook his head violently.
“Then you’re going to tell me what I want to know, right?”
Eli shook his head again as Thorn released pressure from his throat. Between gasping breaths he said, “I’m not part of the gang, ok?”
“What are you talking about?”
“They dropped that bandana when they attacked our farm. I wanted to join them but they said I was too young and too weak. They didn’t want me, just like my parents don’t want me, ok? Are you happy now?”
Fear had given way to contempt in Eli Varick’s eyes. He may have been frightened by the death, and perhaps he had never seen a dead body before, but that fear was gone now as Thorn had forced him to reveal a painful secret that he would much rather have kept hidden.
“So you have no idea about how to get in contact with them? You didn’t send them to the farm to attack me?”
“Didn’t I just say that? I don’t know anything about them. And you can go straight to hell.”
Thorn let him go, and Eli scampered away down the hall holding his throat and casting a scornful glance back before he disappeared.
He departed not a moment too soon. The farmers had worked themselves into enough of a frenzy that they were ready to go storm town hall to have their grievances heard. Thorn was glad he didn’t have to explain to Josh Varick why he was choking his son in the hallway. He and Thorn met eyes briefly before Josh was pushed past by the tide behind him. Thorn saw some fear in his eyes, but also the acceptance that if he didn’t allow this tide to push him along he would be buried under it.
As that metaphor occurred to Thorn’s mind, watching the farmers stream past, he recalled what Eli had said the other night. He had spoken of a revolution, and of people being crushed under the force of what was coming. Thorn didn’t think he meant this. He had been talking of the Amber Bones. But at the same time Thorn couldn’t help but notice the similarities. People were angry, and with that much pent-up anger almost anything was possible.
The doctor stopped Thorn before he could file out with the others.
“They said you took quite a beating yourself. I’d like to take a look at you.”
Thorn had been avoiding the doctor. He didn’t want to be examined. He hated doctors and hospitals. “I’m fine,” he said.
“You’re moving a little stiffly. I can give you something for the pain, at least.”
Thorn was tempted. He didn’t usually take anything for pain unless it was almost unbearable. But the truth was that he was beginning to hurt. The shots he’d taken to his kidneys, and to his shoulder, which was still sore after his battle with Arnold Keech, hadn’t helped any either.
Thorn slipped into a room off the main hall, away from the stream of farmers.
“Ok, fine.”
The doctor began lifting his shirt to examine him but Thorn pushed him off.
“No. No examination. Just give me something for the pain.”
The doctor hesitated. “I can’t give you medication without first assessing the extent of the—”
“Look, this was your idea. Are you going to give me something or not?”
The doctor regarded him for a moment, but then he nodded. He produced a syringe from his satchel and used it to extract clear liquid from a vial.
“I’m in a little more pain than that,” Thorn said as he saw the meager amount that he had withdrawn.
“This is a very potent analgesic. You’ll be feeling numb for days at this dose.”
“I don’t care. Double it.”
The doctor hesitated, then he extracted a bit more. He did not double it as Thorn demanded, but he did add about a quarter more.
“This is it. Without a proper examination I will not under good conscience administer a single drop more than this.”
“Fine,” Thorn said, and pulled the doctor’s hand to inject himself with the needle in his shoulder.
Thorn’s hatred of doctors stemmed from his youth in Collective City, where he had been used as a test subject in the
ir many inhumane experiments. But a moment later as the liquid, Thorn didn’t even know what it was, or care, began coursing through his blood, all of his cares left him in an instant. His kidneys no longer hurt. His shoulder was no longer in pain. He felt like he could conquer the world.
“Wow, doc, you weren’t kidding. I feel great.”
Thorn walked up and down the room and began running in place, something that would have caused him great pain just a moment ago.
“It will help numb you, but it’s dangerous because you won’t know your own limits. You could be doing serious harm to your body and you wouldn’t even be aware of it.”
“Doc, I think you just eliminated my limits entirely. That stuff is wonderful. What is it?”
“It’s an opiate mixture of my own design, with amphetamines added to counteract the usual drowsy effects. It’s a slow-release formula that binds to your fat cells and at this dose should last you for a couple of days. It’s popular in low doses among the dock workers when they’re in pain but need to finish their shift. Please, don’t engage in anything too strenuous until this wears off.”
Thorn smirked. “If I wasn’t going to do anything strenuous then I’d hardly need it, wouldn’t I? I could just lay around in bed until I got better. Thanks, doc. What do I owe you?”
“Nothing. All medical care is provided for in a very generous grant by Mr. Dietrich.”
“That Mr. Dietrich, he’s a pretty swell guy.”
Thorn punched the doctor’s arm before sprinting after the farmers. The doctor, for his part, regretted the dose he had administered as he watched Thorn go.
He sprinted to the head of the stream of farmers. Thorn could barely even feel his feet on the ground. He felt like he was flying. He felt like he could race across the entire province without even breaking a sweat.
“Lovely day for a revolution, isn’t it?” Thorn asked as he pulled in alongside Josh Varick.
“I’m going to do everything I can to prevent that from happening. We’re going to make our grievances heard and we’ll occupy town hall for as long as is necessary.”
“Good luck stopping it. But I’m going to be right in the middle. I think a good fight is just what the doctor ordered. Help clear my head.”
Josh Varick seemed to be walking interminably slow. Thorn was fidgeting to try to keep himself slowed down sufficiently to match his speed. He kept getting ahead, then pedaling backwards. Josh looked hard at him after a few minutes of this. He was heavily distracted himself, with the weight of what he was doing and didn’t notice the change in Thorn’s behavior right away.
“What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing in the world. I feel better than I have in my entire life. I’d love for this to erupt into a big old city-wide brawl. Let’s pick up some of those dock workers. They’re always ready for some violence and bloodshed.”
“That doctor gave you something, didn’t he?”
“And a right fine man he was for doing it, too.”
They were approaching the Foamingwake Bridge so Josh did his best to ignore Thorn and focus on what he had to do. He was rehearsing what he was going to say in order to get their grievances heard, while calming the rest of the farmers down enough that they wouldn’t explode into violence. It was a difficult strait he had to navigate, and Thorn’s sudden manic behavior and thirst for violence were not helping one little bit.
Much to Josh Varick’s chagrin they did pick up quite a contingent of rowdy dock workers as they passed over the Foamingwake Bridge and through the docks district. Word spread quickly through the inns and whorehouses along the wharf that something very big was going down, and those places emptied quickly as everyone wanted to be a part of it. And with each person that joined the growing army marching on town hall, Josh Varick felt the weight upon his shoulders grow all the heavier.
There were minor breakouts of violence: an overturned buggy, a rock through a shop window, lots of pushing and shoving, but nothing major as everyone seemed expectant about what would happen once they reached town hall. The pale greens followed along nervously, as they knew that they would be utterly powerless to stop this sizeable crowd from doing anything it wanted. The red of Len Dietrich’s private police force was nowhere to be found.
Thorn led what was to his drug-addled mind a charge up the steps of town hall where he turned to the huge crowd behind him and cried out for victory. He was echoed by a raucous cry that dwarfed his own.
Josh Varick tried to keep them under control. He tried to shout over them, but the crowd was frenzying to a dangerous level. Fights had begun to erupt between the dock workers and the pale greens around the edges.
Just when things were about to explode into uncontrolled chaos, Len Dietrich the Fourth appeared at the top of the steps, flanked by his private police force and accompanied by Melina Bann at his right side. She gave Thorn a scathing look before he and Josh Varick were pushed aside.
Len Dietrich held his arms up and the crowd quieted down from a mob on the brink of explosion to an audience expressing murmurs of discontent. Thorn recognized him at once from the statue in the hospital. But whereas the features were the same, from the hawkish nose to the sharp eyes and the slender frame, the real version carried about him a hungry and predatory look as he scanned his audience.
“I understand there was another attack last night,” Len Dietrich began in a smooth voice that carried effortlessly to the furthest reaches of the crowd. “I understand that Ned Pith was murdered for no crime other than defending his own property. And I understand that the pale greens of Bradenfield Province did nothing to help. They’ll stand around you today and threaten your right to air your grievances, but when you really need them they’ll sit in the comfort and luxury your tax dollars provide and do nothing. And as for Mayor Dinesh, how is he any better when he cowers behind these doors rather than address you, his own citizens?”
Mayor Dinesh burst through the doors and angrily confronted Len Dietrich.
“This is not what we discussed.”
Len Dietrich leaned in and whispered to him. Thorn was standing near enough that he could hear every word. “Quiet old man; your time has passed. Now step aside or I’ll have this crowd rip you to pieces and hang you from the Foamingwake.”
Mayor Dinesh paled as he stepped back into Len Dietrich’s shadow. Thorn could detect more than a hint of gloat on Len’s features as he continued.
“It seems I struck a nerve with our intrepid mayor,” he said with a smirk, eliciting boos from the crowd. “I understand your frustrations as citizens of Webster Grove. This place is my home, and it has been for over four generations. My family has watched this town grow, and I am proud to have been a part of it. I learned to swim just over there off the wharf, and I used to sit for hours on the pilings watching the boats come in. And I have watched the land across the river turn from the most fertile green to the most arid brown for no reason other than because your leaders think they know what’s best for you. And do you not pay your taxes? Are you not responsible for paying the salaries of these men who dismiss your concerns so coldly while they strangle the livelihood out of you? I have done my best to provide this town with jobs in my company, and for those of you who make your living as farmers across the river, I have provided you with the means of selling your produce across the Free Lands. You have unprecedented access to my global shipping company. You should be prospering as no one before you ever has. And yet you’re not. And the reason for that is to be found solely in your broken government officials who care more for their own self-interest than they do for you.”
The mob had transformed completely. They were now shouting agreement with everything Len Dietrich said. And the more Len spoke the paler Mayor Dinesh became.
“I see that you have appointed Josh Varick as your spokesperson,” Len Dietrich continued. “I think that’s a fine choice. Would you like to speak your piece Mr. Varick?”
Josh looked uncomfortably at the expectant faces staring back at hi
m. “We want to know what’s going to be done. Our farmers need to be able to irrigate their land. They need to be able to utilize tractor tires of a suitable size. And they need their property taxes lowered. They are unable to work in these current conditions, and they need things to be better.”
Len Dietrich nodded approvingly along with everything Josh Varick requested. “You’re not going to do any of that without some drastic changes in Bradenfield Province. Most of the regulations that are strangling your ability to farm are handed down from the legislature back east. There’s little we can do about it.”
“I have a lawsuit pending,” Josh said, and the crowd booed him.
“A lawsuit is not going to change anything. Might I suggest an alternate course of action?”
“I’m open to suggestion.”
“I propose,” Len Dietrich began, pausing for effect, “that we declare our independence from Bradenfield.”
He was greeted with what was at first a stunned silence, but quickly gave way to a roaring round of applause and raucous shouts of approval.
“While I have no intention of being elected your leader, there are a few things that I can do to help this movement along. The first thing I’m going to do is suspend the police force. Men, if you would please arrest these gentlemen and escort them into a holding cell. Do the same for our Mayor Dinesh. He has failed in his duties.”
“You can’t do this!” Mayor Dinesh screamed. “You have no right, and no authority!”
“It’s for your own good,” Len Dietrich said with another smug smirk. “I am also going to suspend your property taxes immediately. Once we’ve elected a new town council and mayor, I will leave the decision of our laws and of our taxes to them. But for now, I’m tearing everything else down.”
While the crowd liked what they were hearing, and most of them roared with approval there were more than a few skeptical voices being raised.
“How is that possible?” someone shouted.
“You’re lying,” someone else shouted.
“You just want the power for yourself!” came another shout.
Josh Varick gave voice to these concerns as he asked, “How do you have the authority to do any of this?”
“I’m taking the authority. It grieves me to see my fellow citizens suffering under this oppression, especially when I can help. I have a plan for this town that will come to fruition within the next few days, a week at most. We will become the wealthiest town in the entire Free Lands. That is a promise.”
The crowd parted to allow Len Dietrich’s private police force to seize the pale greens and to escort them, along with the mayor, off to a detention cell.
“Is your private police force prepared to protect us from the gang that murdered Ned Pith and burned his house?” Josh Varick demanded.
“The Amber Bones is the name of that gang. I, too, have been attacked by their members. I have had my shipments preyed upon in the desert. And I, too, have been frustrated in my attempts to have the pale greens do anything about it. Their investigations are a joke and so I have been forced to conduct my own inquiries into the activities of this gang.”
“And what have you discovered?”
“I have discovered that they need to be stopped. I will do everything I can to assist with this situation, and to bring these people to justice. I will even fund a bounty hunter to bring in the leader of this gang so he can face justice under our new government.”
Len Dietrich turned his gaze on Thorn as he was speaking.
“As I understand it, this bounty hunter, Thorn, was staying with the Piths when they were attacked. He showed great bravery in the face of danger, and although he could not save Ned Pith’s life, he did charge into a burning building to rescue his wife. What say you, bounty hunter? I am prepared to offer a bounty of two hundred dollars for the leader of the Amber Bones Gang.”
Thorn looked over the expectant faces of the farmers, the dock workers, and the citizens who had come out to see what was going on. He had to admit that Len Dietrich was a great speaker. He had said and done all the right things to have them eating out of his hand. And now he was doing the same for Thorn. This was what he had wanted: a chance to make a bit of extra money hunting down someone he was going to be looking for anyway. There was a part of Thorn’s mind which told him that this was a little too convenient, and that he was in danger of being played as Len Dietrich had been playing this crowd. But that was a small voice that was easily ignored. Thorn wasn’t about to turn down the offer.
“Make it five hundred,” he said.
Len Dietrich laughed. “For five hundred I’d hunt him down myself. Three, final offer.”
“Three it is,” Thorn agreed and they shook hands on it.
“Hey, what about us?” demanded one of the dock workers to a round of raucous agreements.
“If you have grievances, now is the time to make them known.”
“We work our fingers to the bone making you filthy rich. What are you going to do for us, huh?”
Len Dietrich scanned them with his hungry eyes. “How does a paid holiday sound? For everyone?”
“A paid holiday?” the worker said, sounding more than a little incredulous. “For everyone? You’ve never completely shut down shipment of goods in this town.”
“We’ll finish our current shipments, and at noon today everyone will be excused. So go back to your inns and pubs; drink, eat, and be merry. Oh, and don’t bother bringing your money, because you won’t need it. I’ll be picking up your tabs.”
A murmur of disbelieving voices spread through the crowd. “For how long?” asked the worker.
Len Dietrich smiled. “How does the rest of the week sound?” He paused to let the murmur of disbelief grow into a stunned buzzing of excitation. “We’ll call it a worker’s holiday in appreciation of the services that you have provided me. So go, celebrate, for this day belongs to you.”
Once the initial shock had worn off and the workers realized that he was serious, they applauded him and began dispersing. Len Dietrich motioned for Thorn to follow him. “With me,” he said, and began walking briskly down the steps from town hall. Melina Bann fell in behind them. Thorn glanced uneasily over his shoulder because he did not like having someone that dangerous at his flank.
Josh Varick caught up with Len Dietrich, and falling in step beside him said, “You do know you don’t have the right to do any of this. If it wasn’t bad enough your suspending the police force and arresting the mayor, Bradenfield has very strict laws regarding how many hours a person is allowed to work and what they can be paid for it. It could be seen that this holiday you’re giving everyone is compensation that would go above what they’re allowed to have.”
Len Dietrich smiled. “Mr. Varick, you’re still thinking like an attorney. On your farm, do you work the regulated number of hours per week and receive just compensation for it?”
“Well, no, but that’s different.”
“It’s different when you own your own business? I think not. Under the strictest letter of the law you are an employee of your farm. Under Bradenfield law you count as both employer and employee. Therefore you could be fined and possibly imprisoned for failing to give yourself adequate time off with adequate pay.”
Josh fell silent because he knew that Len Dietrich was correct.
“And what’s more, you’ve known many people who have openly flouted the laws regarding workers, many of whom are the very same people that wrote the laws, or are charged with enforcing them. How hypocritical of them!”
“But that doesn’t change the fact that Bradenfield will not stand for what you’re doing. They’ll send pale greens when they can’t get what they want legally. You could be looking at a war.”
“I will be looking at a war. And I will be ready for it. But you overestimate the influence your Bradenfield politicians wield. They’ve given themselves so much power over commerce, only to find that they were the ones being bought and sold.”
“Bought and
sold? By whom?”
“By the trade caravans, of course. By people like me. So much arrogance. In their lust for power they have rendered themselves utterly powerless. I do not fear any kind of reprisal from them. In fact, they will be begging for the scraps I throw them.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You will. Now go back to your farm. Irrigate it properly, and begin producing as you should be. Look after your family. I have some business to discuss with Thorn.”
After dismissing Josh Varick, Len Dietrich continued in his very quick stride to the headquarters of the L & D Shipping Company. They passed through the gate under the watchful eye of Len Dietrich’s private police force, some of whom Thorn recognized from his scuffle the previous day.
Melina walked in front to hold the door open for them. First Len Dietrich entered, then Thorn. They filed into a large and cool entry hall. The floor was a thick green carpet, in the center of which was a lush forest of flowering greenery. The walls were covered with a rich dark wood paneling on which were hung oil paintings. On the wall nearest the door were portraits of the previous three Len Dietrichs. Beyond these were paintings of boats upon the Old Foss. Thorn had a weakness for beautiful paintings, especially landscapes or nature scenes, and these took his breath away. Each painting sported a plaque which told the year in which it had been painted, the artist, and what it represented. They told the story of the evolution not just of the L & D Shipping Company, but of travel upon the Old Foss itself, as the boats evolved over time from small skiffs to the barges that Thorn had seen along the wharf that morning.
“You should never forget where you come from,” Len Dietrich said, standing beside Thorn as he admired the paintings. “There was a brief period during my grandfather’s time at the helm of our company when we used steam engines to ship goods up and down the Old Foss. We were making the transition from sail and manpower, you see in those boats there. Five knots in favorable conditions and it was considered advanced for the time. It was my grandfather who hired scientists to figure out the mysteries of the trash they gathered from Crimson City, so it wasn’t long before we started using slop engines, alcohol fuel, and this little beauty that ran on refined hedrous crystals. It was an exciting time and we made leaps and bounds with our technological advancement. This was my favorite boat when I was young. It was fast and sleek, capable of over thirty knots. Of course, that kind of speed was impractical on the Old Foss, and the cost of the hedrous crystals proved to be too expensive for uses outside of smuggling.”
“You have a nice history of boats here, and yet you’re still using horses for overland shipping?”
Len laughed. “Oh we have buggies too. It depends entirely upon to where we’re shipping. Bradenfield has some extensive regulations on buggies but not so many on horses. As someone who lives in the Western Frontier you know very well the difficulty the terrain represents, especially with the regulations they put on tires. Anything west of the Old Foss it’s just easier to use equine power.”
Thorn would have liked to have been able to stay and look at the paintings for a while, but after the brief history lesson Len Dietrich had moved on. He led the way down the hall, past several doors, to an elevator.
“Speaking of never forgetting where you came from, I understand that you’re from Crimson City?”
“How do you know that?”
“After you attempted to storm my headquarters yesterday I had Ms. Bann look into you. I was not entirely unimpressed with what I found, which is why I’m willing to extend to you this offer of employment.”
Thorn cast a look back at Melina Bann, who had taken a seat behind a desk towards the end of the hallway. Her cold blue eyes had never left him, not from the steps of town hall. Thorn was more than a little grateful when he stepped into the elevator and out of her view. He wasn’t intimidated by her so much as he was unnerved by her constant watchfulness.
Len Dietrich closed the door and pulled a lever, causing the elevator to lurch upwards.
“Erythronium battery-powered,” he explained. “They use the like in the trade caravans to get form one floor to the next. It’s yet another piece of technology for which we’re indebted to your home city.”
“I wouldn’t feel too greatly indebted. All of this science comes at a hefty price.”
“Anything worth having comes at a hefty price.”
“Not when you force others to pay that price while you reap the benefits.”
Len Dietrich chuckled. The elevator car came to a rumbling stop. “Mind your eyes,” he said before throwing open the door and flooding the car with sunlight.
Thorn was blinded and threw up an elbow to cover his eyes as the two of them stepped onto the roof. When Thorn was able to focus again he was taken aback by the view. He could see not only the entire town from up here, but what seemed to be miles up and down the Old Foss. He could see the barges queueing up for the lock; he could see them sailing up the river; he could see the verdant patches of crops in the half-moon of the bend across from them; and he could see the amber mesas touching the sky at the horizon further into the Western Frontier. The view was breathtaking.
He took a few steps towards the edge of the roof only to find that they were, in fact, enclosed. He put out a hand to feel the glass wall in front of him. Turning back he saw that there was a desk, a bookshelf, and a lamp as if they were standing in an office.
“Glass all the way around,” Len explained, knocking on the enclosure before he sat at his desk. “I like to be able to see my city. It would never do to remain cooped up inside a stuffy office. Please, have a seat.”
Thorn took the offered seat and propped his feet on the desk. “This is very impressive; why couldn’t I see it from the ground?”
“The outside of the glass is mirrored. It’s all but invisible unless you’re looking for it. And yesterday you were a little preoccupied fighting my guards. I watched the whole thing.”
“Not one of my finer moments.”
Len followed Thorn’s gaze to a piece of hedrous crystal on the bookshelf. It was carved in the shape of a barge like the ones that sailed on the river.
“Crystal from the Fiann,” Dietrich said. “Very expensive. You are, no doubt, wondering why I would possess and flaunt something that is illegal in the town of Webster Grove, yes?”
Thorn shook his head. “I just thought it was pretty is all. I don’t usually pay much attention to the local laws.”
“Yes, I’ve noticed,” Len said, his eyes on Thorn’s boots which were so impertinently propped on his desk. “But I would imagine that’s a very useful trait to have in your line of work. Providing, of course, that you don’t spend too much time afoul of the local police for breaking a law you never knew existed.”
“Laws aren’t much use if they can’t be enforced.”
Len smiled. “Yes, exactly. You are someone who understands. Take that crystal for example. Tramm Shipping was one of the last competitive holdouts here in Webster Grove. They had a direct supplier of hedrous crystal from one of the small deposits in the Fiann and they had cornered the market. So what my father did was he bought some politicians to find some silly reason why Fiann crystal, as opposed to hedrous crystal from anywhere else, was a dangerous health hazard. He came up with some bogus cases of the stuff making people sick. I think he claimed impurities or low-level radiation, or something of the like. Then he got the local media to create a panic in order to drive public support, and had the government ban the transport of it across the Old Foss. That drove Tramm Shipping right out of business, and after we had taken over the contracts with their suppliers, well, that silly law stopped being enforced and the public quickly forgot about the potential health hazards.”
“And now it’s just Len Dietrich Shipping wherever you go.”
“The company was founded by my great-grandfather, Len Dietrich the First, if you will, along with his partner Steven Lawson. It wasn’t long before my great-grandfather murdered Steven Lawson and assumed fu
ll control of the company. Or at least that’s what family tradition holds. But it’s from their names that L & D derives, although that bit of history is long forgotten and everyone assumes, as you did, that the L and D refer to my own family’s name.”
Len Dietrich leaned forward on the desk, lacing his fingers together. “But enough about that. Ms. Bann tells me that you were quite anxious to see me yesterday about my shipments that had been compromised. I am also told that a man matching your description was seen in my hospital. I assume you were there to speak with Brad Hadlik? I am curious why a bounty hunter would be so interested in my private business.”
“You don’t miss a thing, do you?”
“As I told you, I like to be able to see my city. Nothing transpires here of which I’m not aware.”
“I don’t have any interest in you or your business aside from how you’re connected to the Amber Bones. I was hired to find someone who joined the gang.”
“And since it was my company that has been attacked repeatedly, you followed the lead to me.” Len Dietrich leaned back and exhaled a sigh of relief.
“You thought I was coming after you?”
“You were the one who tried to storm my headquarters yesterday.”
“And your solution was to bring me up here with you alone in your office?”
Len Dietrich smiled again. “I keep a gun fastened to the underside of my desk, which is activated by a pressure plate I can press with my knee, should the need arise.”
“And aimed directly at this chair, I would imagine.”
Len Dietrich nodded.
Thorn felt vulnerable all of a sudden knowing that a gun was trained on him at this very moment, and could go off with just the slightest twitch from Len Dietrich’s knee. He had been feeling too confident and had let his guard down. It was the opiate he’d been injected with. The rational part of his mind began to wonder if feeling this good was worth it after all.
“Who would hire me to come for you?” Thorn asked. He wanted to move, but at the same time his stubborn pride wouldn’t allow it. He didn’t want Len Dietrich to know that he was fazed in the slightest by that gun pointing at him, although he was painfully aware that his expression had already given himself away.
“I have many enemies, not the least of which are among the powerful trade caravans. Any one of them would love to usurp the empire I’ve built and take it for themselves.”
“I doubt the other families would allow that.”
“With the amount of power they would wield over trade, I think they’d find a way to keep the others in line.”
“But I can’t say that I don’t have any interest in your business at all,” Thorn said, taking his boots off the desk and leaning forward, spreading his legs in what was almost an invitation or a dare for Len Dietrich to shoot him. The more rational part of his mind had, after a brief resurfacing, been silenced by the bravado that the opiate provided. This side of Thorn’s mind provided the more compelling argument, and that was to reassert dominance by challenging Len Dietrich directly.
“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking and maybe you can fill in some of the gaps,” Thorn continued. “I find myself wondering why you would need armed guards to protect a shipment of grain. And even if you did need them, why would you lie about them? I thought back, and according to the police report there was no mention of armed guards. There was only the one man, Brad Hadlik, mentioned in the report. So that made me wonder: why the secrecy? And this wasn’t your first shipment to be attacked, and yet every single time nothing was stolen. But that’s not entirely true, is it? Nothing was reported stolen. But that just means you didn’t want the province to know what you were really shipping.”
“You do an awful lot of thinking, Mr. Thorn.”
“I’m not done yet. It doesn’t make much sense that the Amber Bones Gang, or any other, was attacking your shipments randomly in the hopes of getting lucky with whatever you were smuggling. While I saw a few police reports detailing the attacks on your shipments, there were only a few. An organization as large as this it seems like you’d be preyed upon all the time by bandits or gangs, so I think it’s much more likely that these were targeted attacks. The Amber Bones Gang knew what you were smuggling, and they knew where and when to hit you. And that means that someone inside the company is working with them.”
Thorn was mostly bluffing with this last guess, but he wanted to push Len Dietrich to see what would shake loose. Even if he was completely wrong, Thorn surmised that at least Dietrich would provide some information in his denial.
Len Dietrich rose from the desk and walked to the glass wall, peering out over the town. Thorn breathed a sigh of relief that he was no longer seated where he could fire the gun. He was also empowered by having forced Len Dietrich to swerve first. Thorn got up from the seat in front of the gun and stood off to one side now that he would not lose any face for doing so.
Len asked over his shoulder, “Are you familiar with the geographical significance of Webster Grove?”
“It’s one of the central trade hubs for all the Free Lands.”
“No. It is the central trade hub for all of the Free Lands. All trade eventually passes through here, and when I say trade I am, of course, referring to the trade caravans.”
“And the trade caravans monopolize trade.”
“To an extent. They have amassed considerable power, but it is the struggle they maintain between each other that prevents any one from becoming too powerful. When one begins to rise the other three are quick to pull it back down. If you’ve ever observed crabs in a bucket you’ll know what I’m talking about. And yet over the years the trade families have become more and more reliant upon shipping companies such as my own for getting their products to and from every corner of the Free Lands. They used to be lumbering merchants that only bought and sold what the people brought them. With the rise of the shipping company, however, they are able to order goods from anywhere and have them delivered anywhere. I keep very detailed logs showing exactly where each of the trade caravans is at any moment, and that’s where most of my overland shipping goes. But that means that, since my family has employed the local government to drive all of our competitors out of business that I, and I alone, am in complete control of the central trade hub of the entire Free Lands.”
“I don’t see what this ego trip has to do with anything.”
The corner of Len Dietrich’s mouth curled up in an arrogant smile. “I am not on an ego trip. I’m merely stating the facts so you will understand the case fully. I am entrusted with the legacy of the L & D Shipping Company by means of my name which I share with three other generations that have run this business. And each generation has seen the success and scope of our family’s business grow. I own this city because of my father who died a few months ago, and now it is my turn to build upon his success and his expansion. The trade caravans, as they currently exist, represent a medium through which my goods are bought and sold with the public. Imagine, if you will, that the trade caravans were replaced by a centralized trade network through which you could order and receive anything you wanted from anywhere in the Free Lands. You would simply mail in your request, and I would ship it to you. Or imagine if you had something to sell. You would ship it to me, and I would find a buyer. No more waiting for trade to come to you. No more having to use the mediators that are the trade caravans.”
“The trade families are very powerful. I doubt they’d go for something like that.”
“They won’t have much of a choice. And, of course, I’m giving you my end game. My overall objective. My idea will require quite a few mediating steps in order to be accomplished. The first step, of course, will be to insulate myself from reprisal and to begin diminishing the power and influence of the trade families by charging steep tariffs to use my city’s geographical resources.”
“Tariffs? That’s what this is about?”
Len Dietrich sighed. “You’re a mercenary. I don’t expect you to share my v
ision. Of course the trade families won’t go for it. But they’ve become overly reliant upon my company for their goods. If I suddenly stopped supplying them, well, you get an idea.”
“You mean like if all your workers were to suddenly take an extended holiday and trade dried up entirely throughout the Free Lands?”
“Yes, precisely. And the tariffs are less about generating money than they are about marking my territory.”
“Well, those trade families have even less respect for the law than you do, and I’m sure you’re aware of how well-armed they are. They’d roll in here and destroy you. Just the other day I saw them kill a man for trying to steal from them. I can only imagine what they’d do to someone trying to steal trade from them entirely.”
“Yes, I thought of that as well. Which is why I have my own personal army.”
“Are you talking about your private police force? Because they’re well-trained but I don’t see them being able to do much against a heavily fortified trade caravan.”
“I wasn’t talking about them.”
Thorn was puzzled for a moment, then his eyes widened with dawning recognition. “The Amber Bones Gang.”
“The gun trade is a tricky business, and while the law can usually be bribed to look the other way it’s not always the case. Plus, each province has different gun laws that they enforce at their whim. And when I say at their whim, what I mean is, of course, by how much you’re willing to grease their palms. It’s much safer and much easier simply to smuggle the guns and bypass all that unnecessary regulation. We buy them from traders who pick them up from Crimson City’s trash. We refurbish them and make sure they’re working, then sell them to the trade caravans. My father began it as a side business, and it proved to be extraordinarily lucrative. Then the trade caravans take the guns and do what they need in order for them to be sellable to the public, like adding safety features, serial numbers, and the like.”
“You’re a gun launderer.”
Len laughed.
“So that’s what you’re smuggling? Guns? And you intend to have them stolen? Then why have armed guards?”
“Those armed guards are members of the Amber Bones Gang. I hire them through a dummy security company I set up for that purpose. They tag along to make sure everything is going fine, then ride off into the night just before the attack. It is unfortunate, but the driver knows nothing about it. He offers a more believable cover story that way, and I look like I’ve done everything I can to ensure the guns get safely to the trade caravan. If I didn’t, they would surely have my head on a pike.”
“And now you’re going to hire me to take out the leader of the gang that you’re using to steal your own guns?”
“Technically they are the trade caravans’ guns since they’ve already been paid for. But yes.”
Len Dietrich sat at the desk and laced his fingers. “And now that you understand the situation we can, at last, talk business. Yes, I do want you to take out the leader of the Amber Bones Gang. He goes by the name of Court Raleigh after the character from the folk story. I don’t know his real name or where he came from. He claims that he came from the desert. We met a little under a year ago when he robbed a shipment I was making, and he was quite the eccentric character back then. But he is also a very charismatic leader, and he harbors an intense hatred for the trade caravans. He was willing to help me with my plan by attracting and training young men to join the ranks of what would become my own private army. Over time, however, he’s become more and more unpredictable, and more and more violent. I’ve heard disturbing stories of the way he’s running the gang, and while I’ve been willing to look the other way for a while the time has come to put a stop to it. For example, his attacks on the farms across the river and the murder of Ned Pith. I would never condone something like that. But I was willing to allow him to continue as long as nobody got hurt.”
“Well, somebody sure got hurt last night.”
“Yes, and that’s on me for not taking action sooner. Court Raleigh has been using those raids as a means of training prospective members, and he’s been stepping them up recently. I’ve tried to get him to stop, but he has no respect for authority. I don’t believe that he’ll obey me when the time comes. I was originally going to have Ms. Bann kill him for me, but your presence has given me an even better idea. The Browning Trade Caravan will be coming through Webster Grove in three days. You will take out the leader of the gang, and I will assume control of the rest of them before the Browning Family learns of my plot. Speed is of the essence here, or all of my plans will be for naught.”
“What makes you think they’ll follow you?”
“They’ll follow me for the same reason the rest of this town will follow me: the promise of untold money and power. Once L & D Shipping controls all trade throughout the Free Lands, Webster Grove will be the wealthiest city of them all. Our streets will be paved with gold, and the poorest of our citizens will be wealthier than the wealthiest elite that Bradenfield has to offer. This will be my legacy, not only to my company and to my family, but to the city I love. Now, can I count on your assistance in this matter?”
“I don’t have much interest in your politics or economic struggles, if that’s what you mean,” Thorn said. “And personally, I think if you block trade flow through Webster Grove it’ll just find another way around, like when Longbenton tried to dam up the Old Foss with disastrous consequences. And I’m not an assassin. I’ll capture Court Raleigh, or whatever his name is, and bring him back as I would any other bounty. What you do with him will be your own business.”
“That’s disappointing. It will be much easier if you went ahead and killed him, but I suppose I could have a team ready to make him disappear the moment you bring him back. And in order for me to appear impartial to the rest of the gang, I’ll have someone in town hall draw up an official bounty contract for the city to hire you, thereby washing my hands of the matter.”
“Didn’t you arrest town hall this morning?”
Len Dietrich smiled. “So I did. I’ll have to set up the printing press in the prison then.”
“There’s just one more thing.”
“And what is that?”
“I’ll need to know where to find him and what he looks like.”
“As for where to find him, I don’t know where the gang’s base is. Somewhere in the wilderness. I think it would be better to draw him out in an ambush than to go after him directly. And as for what he looks like, well, I don’t think you’ll have any trouble picking him out. Now, come. I’ll have Ms. Bann assist with your preparations.”
“My preparations?”
“Yes, you’re going to need a plan, aren’t you? And a gun?”