Boyhood friends.”
Dash grinned. “I think I understand.”
Roo did as well. Given what he overheard that night outside the headquarters of the leader of the Mockers, he guessed that the Duke wasn’t the only former thief to have migrated to a lawful existence.
Then there was always the chance that despite his proper appearance, he was still a thief.
Masterson said, “You look enough like him . . .
it’s uncanny. Do you take after him in other ways?”
he asked with a wink.
Dash laughed. “I’ve climbed a wall or two in my time, but I’ve never picked up the knack for cutting purses. My mother frowned on that sort of thing.”
They all laughed, and the coffee was served. As each man fixed his cup the way he liked it, Lender said, “So, Mr. Avery. I was conducting some routine business with one of my clients when your message came to us. What is this about?”
Roo glanced at Masterson, who nodded. “Lender is my litigator and solicitor, so he would be here even if you didn’t know him. I am right in assuming this isn’t a social call, am I not?”
“You are indeed, sir,” said Roo. Clearing his throat, he said, “I am looking to form a syndicate.”
Lender glanced at Masterson, and then asked,
“You mean join a syndicate?”
“No, I mean to form one specifically for an investment.” Masterson said, “I am a partner in several. It might be far easier to propose you as a member of one than to build one from scratch.”
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Roo said, “I only worked here a short time, but as I understand the workings of such, if I join a syndicate and propose a venture and the partners vote it down, then I’m out of luck.”
“Yes, that’s true,” said Masterson.
“But if I propose the creation of one for the specific purpose of the venture, then only those who wish to participate will accept partnership, and we go forward.”
“That is also true,” said Lender.
“Well, before we rush down that avenue,” said Masterson, “let’s hear something about your venture so I can judge the wisdom of starting from scratch.”
Roo hesitated, but it was Dash who spoke.
“You’re going to have to tell someone sooner or later, Mr. Avery.”
Roo sighed. His biggest fear was of telling someone in a position to take advantage of the news without benefiting himself. He knew it unlikely from anyone who was recommended by the Duke and a client of Lender’s, but he still hesitated.
“Go on,” said Lender.
“I mean to underwrite shipping.”
“There are dozens of such syndicates already,”
said Masterson. “Why do we need a new one?”
“I want to specialize in grain shipments to the Free Cities.” Masterson and Lender looked at each other. Masterson said, “That’s usually a fairly short-gain, low-risk venture, young man—unless the Quegans are in a raiding mood. But as they’ve been quiet of late, one must suspect you’ve a different reason to wish to specialize in a relatively dull enterprise.”
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the demand for such transport is likely to go up soon and that there will be a very heavy increase in shipping to the Free Cities, so I thought I would be in a position to set up some multiple-voyage underwriting.”
Masterson looked at Lender. “The lad knows something.” Leaning forward, he lowered his voice.
“Out with it, Rupert. I give you my word that whatever it is, you shall be entitled to a full share based on both your participation and your news.”
Roo glanced at the other three faces and quietly said, “Locusts.”
“I knew it!” said Masterson, slapping the table.
Lender said, “You knew there were locusts in the Free Cities?”
“No,” answered Masterson. “I knew there was something that gave him an edge.” Again lowering his voice, he said, “There’s a type of insect called the twenty-year locust that breeds out there. They’re due next year, but sometimes they come a year early and sometimes they come a year late. Any news they are in fact on their way . . .” Masterson looked up and signaled to a waiter, who hurried over. Masterson said, “Would you see if Mr. Crowley and Mr. Hume are upstairs, please? If they are, ask them to please join us.”
Turning to Roo, Masterson said, “How reliable is your source?”
Roo was loath to tell him the news was from a fugitive sea trader dealing in stolen gems. “I’d say it’s fairly reliable.”
Masterson stroked his beard. “There are several ways to play this. Each matches risk to reward.”
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they should sit. He introduced everyone. Hume and Crowley were a pair of investors who had participated in several different syndicates with Masterson.
“Our young friend here”—he indicated Roo—
”brings us word of a shortage of grain in the Free Cities. How do you react to that news?”
“How much of a shortage?” asked Crowley, a thin, suspicious-looking fellow.
Roo lowered his voice and once again said,
“Locusts.”
“Who is your source?” asked Hume, a soft-looking man with a wheezing in his chest.
“A Quegan trader put in at Sarth two weeks ago and mentioned in passing to a business associate of mine that they had been found on a farm outside Margrave’s Port.”
Masterson said, “That would be the logical place for them to first show up.”
“If it’s as bad as when I was a boy,” said Hume,
“they could spread up to Ylith and into Yabon. There would be serious shortages in the West.”
“And if they go over the mountains into the Far Coast region, even more,” said Crowley.
Masterson turned to face Roo. “There are three basic ways we can approach this news, my young friend.” He held up a finger. “We can attempt to buy grain now, storing it away in warehouses, and wait for the demand to increase.” He held up a second finger. “We can do as you suggest and underwrite the cost of shipping the grain to the Far Coast, making our profit irrespective of the profit potential in each shipment of grain.” He held up the third finger. “Or we can try to control the grain without purchasing it.”
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“Options?” said Crowley.
Nodding, Masterson said to Roo. “Do you know about options?”
Roo decided trying to appear more clever than he was would work against him in this situation. “Not really.”
“We agree to buy grain at a price from a group of growers here in the area. But rather than buy it, we purchase the right to buy it, for a small part of the costs. If we fail to purchase it, we lose the option money.
“The benefit is that we can control a huge amount of grain for a relatively small amount of gold.”
“But the risk is you lose everything if the price goes down,” said Dash.
“Yes,” said Crowley. “You do understand.”
Masterson said, “I propose we hedge our positions by buying some grain at market, options on the rest.”
“What about the underwriting?” said Roo.
Masterson said, “I’ve never been keen on underwriting. Ships sink. If what you say turns out to be true, we’ll be sending grain out on anything that floats, and some of the craft will likely sink. Let someone else assume the risk and we’ll pay a tiny premium.” Masterson was quiet a moment, then said,
“I think we option the entire amount. What hedge we have with grain purchase is trivial if the price doesn’t rise. We diminish our risk by litt
le, but we diminish our profit potential a great deal.”
Hume sighed. “You always win at cards, too.” He thought a moment. “But you make sense. If we are to gamble, then let us gamble.”
Crowley said, “Agreed.”
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said, “How much will this cost?”
“How much gold do you have?” asked Crowley.
Roo tried to remain calm as he said, “I can put about twenty thousand sovereigns on the table this week.”
Masterson said, “A tidy sum. Between us we can raise a hundred thousand. That should prove sufficient for our needs.”
“What’s our potential gain?” asked Dash, ignoring the fact he was considered Roo’s assistant.
Hume laughed and coughed. “If there is a massive grain shortage in the Free Cities, a five-to-one return is not out of the question. If it spreads to Yabon and Crydee, ten-to-one is not outside possibility.”
Masterson added, “If all goes as we hope, young Mr. Avery, your twenty thousand golden sovereigns could be two hundred thousand within the next three months.”
Roo was almost speechless, but then Lender said,
“Or it could be nothing.”
Roo felt a cold chill run up his back.
Masterson said, “I propose a new syndicate, gentlemen. We shall be the Krondor Grain Traders Association. Would you draw up the papers, Mr.
Lender?”
Then he turned to Roo and stuck out his hand.
“Welcome to our syndicate, Mr. Avery.”
Roo stood and solemnly shook hands with his three new business partners. As the other men moved away from the table, Masterson said, “We’ll post your name as a member, and you’ll be able to join us up there.” He pointed to the private upper gallery, restricted to members only. Roo had served coffee up there, but would never have been allowed to set foot prince.qxd 9/4/02 10:38 AM Page 332
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there otherwise. “I’ll see you to the door.”
Lender left as well, and Masterson put his hand on Roo’s shoulder as they walked toward the main entrance. “When can you have your gold here, Rupert?”
“Within the next two days, Mr. Masterson.”
“Call me Jerome.”
“Call me Roo; everyone does.”
“Very well, Roo. Get it here as soon as possible, and Lender will send word to your office when the papers are ready to be signed.”
As they reached the door, Roo saw Duncan entering through one door. Through the other came an older man, whom Roo recognized as Jacob Estherbrook. But next to him walked a young woman so beautiful that Roo almost stumbled. He saw Duncan’s mouth open at the sight of her.
She was perfect, thought Roo. Her hair was done up in a current fashion that framed her face in curls, and ringlets hung down the back of her head, a halo of gold. Her eyes were enormous and the blue of late winter skies, and her cheeks held a hint of blush. Her figure was slender and she carried herself like royalty.
“Ah, Estherbrook!” said Masterson. “There’s someone here I want you to meet.”
Estherbrook nodded as Masterson opened the swinging gate at the rail, ignoring the flustered-looking waiter who had tried to get there first after opening the door of the carriage from which the Estherbrooks had descended.
“Sylvia,” said Masterson, nodding in greeting.
“Good day, Mr. Masterson,” said the girl with a smile that made Roo’s blood pound.
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“Jacob Estherbrook,” said Masterson, “one of our most important members, may I present to you our newest member, Mr. Rupert Avery.”
Estherbrook’s expression remained unchanged.
But something about his eyes bothered Roo.
Estherbrook said, “Grindle and Avery?”
Roo said, “It’s now Avery and Son, sir.” He held out his hand.
Estherbrook regarded the proffered hand a moment, then shook, a quick grip and release that made it clear this was no more than a formality.
Something in his manner communicated to Roo that Mr. Estherbrook didn’t think much of Barret’s newest member.
Then Roo caught himself being regarded coolly by Sylvia, and now he was certain: the Estherbrooks of Krondor didn’t particularly care for the company of. one Rupert Avery. Roo slowly turned toward Dash, while finding himself unable to take his eyes off Sylvia. “Ah . . .“ he began. “May I present my new assistant?”
Sylvia leaned forward ever so slightly, as if to hear better. “Yes?” she asked quietly.
Dash took control. “Dashel,” he said with a smile and deep bow. “I believe you know my grandfather.”
Estherbrook said, “Indeed?”
“Duke James,” said Dash with feigned innocence.
Instantly Estherbrook’s and his daughter’s manner changed. He smiled and she beamed, and as her smile broadened, Rupert felt his pulse pound even more furiously. “Of course,” said Estherbrook, taking Dash’s hand and gripping it warmly. “Please remember me to your grandfather when next you speak with him.”
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Sylvia turned her radiant smile on Roo. “You must come to dinner soon, Mr. Avery. I insist.”
Roo could barely speak as he nodded. “I would love to.”
Dash turned to Masterson with a grin. “We must be going, sir. We’ll be back tomorrow.”
“Good day, then,” said Masterson, the farewell echoed by Estherbrook and his daughter.
Dash gently propelled Roo out the door and reached out to take Duncan’s arm and turn him around as they stepped through the portal into the street. To the gaping cousins he said, “You’d think you two had never seen a pretty face be-fore.”
Roo reached home late that night. It had taken half the day to deal with the news that Duncan had returned with, that it would be both possible and dangerous to dispose of the drugs but that the profit potential was very high. Katherine had also been unable to provide the name of anyone who might consider such a purchase.
Then there was the matter of housing Dash. Roo promised that he would secure quarters for Luis and Duncan in a few days, allowing Jason and Dash to share the apartment, but for the time being the newest addition to their company’s roster would have to sleep in a makeshift loft above the wagons in the warehouse. If the grandson of the most powerful noble in the Kingdom was discomfited by this revelation, he hid it in good humor. Roo suspected he had seen rougher quarters during his relatively short life.
He thought in passing about his asking if he was being tossed out of the palace again.
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plotting the quick disposal of the gems gained in Sarth. A message was prepared for a gem broker in Salador who had been an old trading companion of Helmut Grindel’s, outlining in detail what Roo had to offer, and by the time that had been disposed of, it was after dark.
Roo made it home and used his key to unlock the door. He saw that everyone was already in bed and quietly made his way upstairs. In the gloom he saw Karli asleep in the bed. There was a tiny shape next to her, and he leaned close. Then he saw the baby.
In the murk of the unlit room the child was little more than a featureless, blanket-wrapped lump, and Roo could barely make out the little bump of her nose. He waited for some strong emotion to come sweeping up out of a natural paternal well, but nothing came. Then he looked at his sleeping wife and again felt close to nothing. Standing back upright, he sighed. It was the fatigue, he told himself. And his mind rushed with concern over the coming investments. If he was being a fool, he would lose everything he had buil
t over the last two years. While he was young and could start over again, he knew that a failure now would rob him of any future chance for greatness and riches.
As he removed his boots, a soft voice said,
“Roo?”
He grunted as he dropped one boot upon the floor. “Yes,” he whispered. “I’m back.”
“How . . . are you?” she asked.
“Tired,” he said. “I have a lot to tell you, but in the morning.”
The baby stirred, then suddenly it was crying, and Roo asked, “What is wrong?”
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Karli sat up in the dark and said, “Nothing. She’s hungry. That’s all. She needs to eat during the night, two or three times.”
Roo sat upon a small chair, one boot on, the other off, and said, “How long does this go on?”
Karli said, “For the next four months, maybe longer.”
Roo stood, picked up his boot, and said, “I’m going to sleep in your old room. There’s no reason for both of us to be exhausted tomorrow and I have a great deal to do. I’ll tell you about it when I get up.”
He closed the door behind him and moved to Karli’s old bedroom. Stripping off his clothing, he fell into the bed where he and Karl had created their baby, and in the dark his mind raced: first exultation at the prospect of ten years’ profits in a few months, then terror that he would be destitute instead. Next he plotted how he would expand once the profits were his, and then he felt fear creep up as he thought how best to recover from the coming disaster. But more and more as sleep approached, he found his mind’s eye returning to the image of a wonderful face, with large blue eyes and golden hair, and a laugh that made his stomach knot. Sleep finally came with the dawn.
Roo came downstairs, his head as fuzzy as if he had been drinking the night before. He found Karli in the kitchen, nursing Abigail, and he kissed her dutifully upon the cheek. “We’ve missed you,” said Karli.
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