Peril & Profit

by M. H. Johnson

  "Here you are, Captain Halence," Lord Salevin affirmed, voice hushed, perhaps due to the enormity of the transaction. "One hundred and twenty gold phoenix, three hundred gold crowns."

  Halence nodded. "Very good, Lord Salevin. Barring unforeseen complications, my ship shall leave come evening two days hence. I do hope this will give you sufficient time to get your affairs in order, and I recommend as well that you consider staying at rooms near our port in case, for any reason, we need to make an early departure. My men will make every effort to contact you, should such be the case, but if there were, say, riot conditions near our ship, we would have to depart immediately."

  With that Halence solemnly took the silk lined bags Lord Salevin had placed the fortune in gold in, transferring them to two sturdy leather satchels with shoulder straps before handing one of them to Sorn. Sorn was pleased to note that they were quite inconspicuous, once shifted under their light dinner cloaks.

  "When would you like my men to stop by for your trunks, by the way?" Halence asked by way of parting, as he and Sorn prepared to exit the foyer.

  "Tomorrow afternoon shall be sufficient," Lord Salevin said by way of reply. "Now if you will excuse me, I presently have to break the news of an unexpected voyage to my family."

  With a solemn nod, Halence and Sorn left the room to make their own way out, there being no trace of the butler anywhere. It felt good to be out of that house, Sorn thought, taking a deep breath of the warm and humid spring air, filled as it was with the scents of the lord's well-manicured garden in full bloom as he and Halence slowly made their way back to the carriage. The driver appeared to have been dozing, but came around soon enough as he heard them approach. "Where to now, good sirs?" He politely inquired, stifling a yawn while rubbing his bloodshot eyes. It was only then that Sorn realized how very late it was. Well past midnight, in fact.

  "To the docks, my good man," Halence said with an exuberant smile. "To the docks!"

  4

  The ride back to their ship went swiftly enough, Halence saying nary a word, perhaps because of the driver above, but his grin spoke volumes all the same. It was only later, after castigating a dozing sailor assigned with guarding the ship and entering his own quarters that Halence gave voice to his exhilaration.

  "By George, this is what every trader dreams of!" he said exultantly as he poured out the gold coins onto his table. "A priceless commodity and desperate customers who can afford to pay anything!" He grinned sardonically at Sorn's cool expression and began counting out both the coins Lord Salevin had given him as well as the smaller purse gifted by the king.

  "Now relax, Sorn. I know what your thinking, but consider. Had I elected to do nothing at all, had I simply thought it prudent to sail off immediately with nary a backward glance while this city was eventually seized, would the fates of these noble families be any different than what I had portrayed? Not a bit of it, and you know it! I know I was hitting him hard with it, Sorn, but the truth was I was doing no more than forcing Lord Salevin to accept the reality of what his family really will face inside a month or two at most.

  "At that time, penniless and desperate, he would be pleading the fates for any hope of salvation for his family and himself. And dare I say it, Sorn, in a very real way, we are that man's saviors. And far from leaving him penniless, he saves his family from a monstrous fate, and still keeps most of his fortune. Why should we not benefit from performing such a service? A hundred times better than if we were to stand idly by and let the Empire absorb and destroy everything he had ever earned and fought for in his life, fortune and family both."

  "I know that," Sorn said. "I have been reminding myself of that very argument all evening. Still, it just seems so ruthless…"

  "Ah," said Halence with a smile. "But at the same time it fascinates you just a bit, doesn't it, Sorn? How a skilled merchant can use his wiles, his skill, to net himself a profit far beyond what one would otherwise expect? And best of all, far from the thief who just takes, leaving misery and suffering in his wake, the merchant, at least ideally, only profits by giving his customers that which they desire even more than the very coins they spent in the first place! Remember Sorn, we did and said nothing to force that man's hand. We painted a picture of a possible future, all too likely, in fact, and indicated that we had the means to sail him and his family safely away from that dark path. He himself made the offer. We accepted. And Sorn, consider, we neither painted a false portrait of what the future held with our words, nor did we even exaggerate the matter. What I told him I have myself heard from the king's very mouth. And Sorn, my young friend, look how we profit! Tell me true, does not the life of the merchant, even at its most ruthless, captivate you just a bit?

  "Aye, it does," Sorn admitted softly, almost unwillingly, knowing full well that as ruthless as Halence had been, the promise of salvation he had offered was a real one. Indeed any passenger, no matter how much gold they paid for the voyage, was far better off in their ship sailing back to the safety of York than they were in this doomed city, soon to fall to the scores of trebuchets the enemy had at their disposal, giant siege engines that they were, and the fifty thousand or so men ready to invade, once the walls were breached. Sorn shuddered. He had no doubt that he and his cousins could have brought the city some time, but if he never dared risk his kin in midnight assaults against the siege weaponry, determined instead to keep the walls forever between them and their foes, searing pockets of invaders only as they breached the crumbling fortifications, delaying the inevitable is all they could have done.

  That truth aside, however, the subtle power Halence had wielded was seductive in its own right. A dangerous temptation for one of Sorn's kind, so easily were his people corrupted. Yet it was, in this case, so eloquently justifiable, so skirting the path of righteousness. All that, and the undeniable truth of what Halence was so methodically counting into piles at that very moment, seventeen hundred royals worth of gold. Gold that rang such a sweet note as Halence steadily stacked one coin against another, gold that shown with such a rich luster that Sorn could almost imagine glimmers of frozen sunlight reflecting off Halence's richly lacquered table. Gold, that wondrously seductive emblem symbolizing wealth and power glimmering before them, the fortune of lords and kings.

  "Sorn, this is yours," Halence said with a casual wave, indicating one of the intoxicating piles of coins. "Five hundred royals worth, your share from our transaction with Lord Salevin tonight, the first of two installments, and seventy-seven gold royals from our grain venture, the one-third profit plus your original fifteen gold, marking your original cost, and rounding up in your favor. Five hundred and seventy-seven royals worth, my young friend. A far cry from the twenty-three that I had hoped you would settle for when I made this voyage. You are, it turns out, no bad trader yourself!" Halence chuckled, eyes twinkling with friendly warmth.

  "Indeed, I am glad you did come, Sorn. You saved the lives of my crew and my ship both, and for that I am grateful." Halence’s voice became momentarily solemn. "I hope you consider your share of the profit a just reward for the efforts you have expended on our ship's behalf. And just think, lad, we have only begun to make our mark here! Tomorrow we stand to make a fortune many times over what we already have before us!"

  At this point both Halence and Sorn paused, eyes alight with a mutually felt hunger. Halence smiled, as if bemused to note for all his brooding reluctance that Sorn, at heart, was every bit the trader that he was. A kindred spirit of sorts.

  "Ah, lad, for all your moral reservations, you have the hunger in you too. Greed and ethics both, a merchant one can trust! A rare and precious combination, my young friend. No need to deny it, I can see it in your eyes."

  "I never claimed otherwise, Captain," Sorn said, voice near a whisper. "It is a common thing among my people, and I have more control over it than most."

  "Trouble yourself not too much over it, lad. It is a fine thing to be both honest and desiring. We are a rare breed, you and I. Truly, Sorn, you w
ere made for this life." Halence said this last bit with a smile, handing Sorn a bag made out of the finest black silk that seemed to caress the gold coins, glinting in the lamplight, as Sorn near reverently slipped then inside, one at a time.

  "For convenience, I mostly gave you phoenix. Fifty-seven gold phoenix, and seven gold crowns. Place it somewhere safe, Sorn. If you wish, you may leave it here, with me, where you know it will be secure."

  Sorn smiled warmly, knowing that the captain's gesture was a sign of friendship, reaffirming that their trust was such that dishonesty was not to be expected from either one.

  "Indeed, I appreciate the offer, Captain, and normally I would. However, I have the feeling that my cousins would also like to see the fruit of our mutual efforts, and the gold would give them something to gloat over as a reward for their patience tonight, as well as serve to keep them pleasantly preoccupied until we leave port."

  Halence nodded his approval. "Of course. A fit decision, and diplomatic too. Well, my young friend, we had best get what sleep we can, as tomorrow promises to be a busy day indeed. Besides which, I still need to talk with Vaughn about getting as many bedrolls and extra provisions as possible. It would be prudent to assume the utter incompetence of lords, at least in terms of planning for a week's voyage at sea. Thus it is up to us to make sure that sufficient blankets are on hand for them to sleep with a modicum of comfort, sufficient food and potable water to keep them from griping overly, and plenty of buckets to spare for the inevitable seasickness that half will no doubt be afflicted with."

  Halence smiled. “The secret to a tolerable voyage versus a miserable one, Sorn, is all in the planning. And I had best assume these men of wealth, for all that they may excel with their ledgers, will fare little better than babes at sea."

  Sorn rubbed his brow. "Dare I ask, Captain, but where will our passengers be staying?"

  "In the cargo hold, lad. I am having our carpenter Verin and as many crewmen as know one end of a hammer from another rig as many basic hammocks as we can make. It will not be pretty, but it should be sturdy, and be at least as comfortable as having said nobles sleep on hay and blankets which is, of course, our backup option. If nothing else, they can sleep right on top of the chests they will bring with a bit of hay to cushion their backsides. The advantage with the hammocks, however, is that we can fit in more families than we would otherwise be able to, and more comfortably too. They will feel sideways rocking less, so will sleep better, with less risk of a violent stomach." Halence winked. "We will play it by ear, Sorn. I will shortly be asking Verin how many men and women we can reasonably expect to fit in there. Perhaps three hammocks per frame, or thereabouts. Now, my young friend, go show your cousins our spoils!"

  With that Sorn left a smiling Halence and pushing mixed feelings aside, went off to his own quarters to inform his cousins that they had already profited from this voyage more than they had ever dreamed, and that it was just the beginning.

  "Sorn, this is fantastic!" crowed Fitz.

  "Indeed, brothers! There is no better life than that of a trader!" Lieberman affirmed.

  "Tell us again, Sorn, how rich does all this gold make us?" Inquired a grinning Hanz still lying on his top bunk hammock, gazing rapturously down at the glimmering gold coins that were at that very moment being gleefully poured from hand to hand by Fitz and Lieberman.

  Sorn gave Hanz an indulgent smile. "Well, going on the rough estimates that Lord Canterbier had given us, this gold could buy us almost forty good sized tracks of land, even more in the hinterlands, with sufficient funds left over to fully stock them with farms and livestock. Or it could allow us to horse and equip over one hundred knights. Either way you look at it, cousins, this has been a mighty profitable expedition indeed. And if Captain Halence has his way, it is only the beginning." Sorn sighed at this point.

  "What's wrong, Sorn?" queried a suddenly worried Fitz, and such was his care for his cousin that he actually managed the extraordinary feat of tearing his gaze away from the glittering, beautiful gold for the moment needed to flash Sorn a concerned look before snapping his focus back once again upon the golden pile before him.

  "Oh, it's just what I've already told you. Halence is really making a hard sell to these merchants and nobles. He doesn't hesitate to tell them the specific horrors suffered by refugees from southern states already captured by this Empire, complete with an affidavit affirming these stories by the king. An affidavit which, I believe, was meant more for the benefit of the northern rulers and not simply to scare local merchant-princes and nobles into giving most of what coin they have to Halence for safe passage out of here." Sorn shook his head. "First, Halence raises the nobles' fear for their families to a fever pitch, telling them in exquisite detail what other loved ones of well-to-do families have suffered at the hands of this Empire, then he goes on to tear away any hope that this city might survive the siege against all those troops and the dozens of sophisticated and powerful siege engines the Empire has at their disposal. Finally, he paints himself as the nobles' only hope of salvation for his family, and how dare that noble stoop so low as to try to bargain for safe passage, when any amount of coin paid is a pittance compared to the desperate poverty and suffering they will be forced to bear under the reign of the mad empress."

  Sorn sighed. "The thing is, guys, as uncomfortable as the images he paints are, he may well be right. Right now, he is their only hope. The only thing he is guilty of, really, is making a hard sell. But looking back, if it were a choice between giving half your wealth to a stranger, or your family living as little more than half-starved slaves, well that's not really any choice at all, is it? They are far better off a bit scared than actually being forced to live this nightmare they are so right to fear. So who am I to be at all critical of Halence’s tactics in any case?"

  "Relax, Sorn," Fitz said with a smile. "You worry too much. Halence is just telling them the truth, right? So don't you see? It's perfect! We are saving them, and we are getting lots of gold by doing so!"

  "Fitz is right," Hanz seconded. "The city is going to fall, right? So these merchants and lords will have nothing if they stay, and their children will be sold as well. So they will be penniless and alone. This way, they keep their families and they still have most of their wealth, right? So why complain? We are getting rich saving them! You can't ask for more than that, Sorn."

  Lieberman also gave his cousin a nod. "Yeah, Sorn. At home we treat our slaves better than these people do their prisoners of war or captured townsfolk, and they are all of the same race! These people are savages, Sorn. No Crow Totem here, that's for sure. And we are helping these merchants and nobles to get away, and to bring what they want. And you just know they are going to be stuffing their trunks with gold and whatever treasures they can stuff in there, so they will not only be free once we reach York, but they will still be rich as well. So what are you so worried about?"

  Sorn found himself reflecting at that moment, as he sometimes did, that his cousins were just products of their own culture, the environment they had known all their lives.

  For Sorn, study and the accrual of knowledge had led to a search for ethics and a definition of what truly was good or evil in life, beyond simply the teachings of his clan. What values transcended all cultures, what was true for all people? How could Sorn, beyond the belief system taken for granted by his people, know that he was living ethically? Doing good?

  Ultimately, for lack of a better determinant, Sorn had decided to follow the basic principle of reflective reasoning. If someone were to bash into his and his cousins' chambers, steal his wealth and enslave his loved ones, then this obviously would be seen as the greatest of evils, however the invaders tried to justify it. Thus, it must be equally evil for Sorn to do this to another. And just like he would admire and love a noble figure who helped defend his cousins and himself from such a fate, so too, despite all the uncertainty of his own position in life, Sorn knew he would have a right to be loved and admired if he defended the live
s and homes of others in need. His worth would transcend personal uncertainty, should he commit acts of good and show compassion for others, just as his crimes would transcend weak attempts at cultural justification, should he engage in robbing or enslaving an innocent people.

  It was these reflections and insights that resulted in Sorn feeling so cut off from his people at times, and why he had tried so hard to plead his case on behalf of the peoples of this realm.

  It was only by freakish chance that his well-meaning cousins had accidentally triggered the portal that had sent them here, an accident which by its very occurrence meant also that the portal was now closed off from their own peoples' attempts to spearhead an invasion of this world. A state of affairs that would last until the portal was opened from this side, or the planets were once again in an ideal alignment to harness the terrible magics used to open the portal the first time. Said planetary alignment was an astronomical event, Sorn was comforted to recall, that happened once a century at best.

  Though they deserved credit, all exasperation aside, for committing an act of tremendous good, it had in truth been an accident and nothing more. His cousins' only real concern had been for their cousin Sorn, whom they loved with the same depth and intensity that they did their own mother. Indeed, having been their primary caretaker, serving as a denmother to them for most of their short lives, they had bonded to him as they would a second parent. He had of course been quite touched by their willingness to speak out on his behalf, all unforeseen consequences aside, even if the actual issue at hand had been the least of their concerns. And who could blame them? They were only guilty of a cultural perception held by every member of their race, save perhaps Sorn, and they were children to boot. Children who were at that moment looking at their sole guardian here in this realm with worry of their own, gold momentarily forgotten, unable to fathom why Sorn was still somewhat troubled by the mercantile turn of events that had developed so far, for all that it was profiting them beyond many a trader's wildest dreams.