Peril & Profit

by M. H. Johnson

  Halence shook his head sadly. "I know my words must be disturbing, and I have only spoken in generalities. Please, read the packet. View the reports and firsthand accounts yourself. And should you wonder as to the source of my information, sir, you need only look at the seal."

  A shocked looking Lord Salsbruce read through the military reports first, those giving a clinical account of some of the tactics used by the Empire, their superior siege engines turning the fabled walls of Svalentia to rubble within weeks. With the Empire's mighty-armed trebuchets launching boulders from a distance far beyond the range of Svalentia's wall-mounted catapults, the city's defenders were forced to watch helplessly as the walls and city both were torn apart by the massive stones pounding into them, numerous structures also set ablaze by barrels of flaming pitch hurled deep into the city. The city's desperate charges toward the siege engines were broken repeatedly under a withering hail of crossbow fire, the city losing over a third of its men while the invading force suffered no more than a handful of casualties from those desperate rallies. This being the terrible pattern until the eventful day the massive forces under the Empire's banner made their inexorable way towards the completely demolished walls of the city, thousands of crossbowmen letting loose deadly volleys at any perceived resistance. The once unimpeachable city walls were shattered to rubble, the city itself in flames, the broken and demoralized forces of Svalentia hardly putting up a fight. Those few pockets of disorganized resistance that remained were ruthlessly cut down within a handful of days, their increasingly frantic overtures of surrender met only with death. The message was clear. No mercy would be shown. Those who did not capitulate immediately were put to the sword. In total, less than a hundred of the Empire's forces perished in securing Svalentia. The city's casualties, on the other hand, had numbered in the thousands. And then things got really bad.

  These dry facts Lord Salsbruce had found chilling enough, if his increasing pallor was any indication. What was far worse, perhaps, were the personal accounts of the survivors of the city's subsequent occupation, as given by those few who had managed to flee. The accounts of the terrible degradations they had suffered, the horrors they had faced, the brutality they had been forced to endure, particularly the women and the children, appeared almost too much for Salsbruce to bear. By the time he had finished reading the personal accounts of atrocities suffered, his already pale face had turned almost chalk white, and Sorn was concerned that the man might collapse.

  Halence, of course, was all too ready to assure the lord that it was all quite true, pointing to the king's personal seal, hammering home the horrible nightmare of loss and suffering the survivors had been forced to endure when that which they had blindly put their faith into had failed them utterly.

  "As to why you have heard no first-hand accounts yourself? Consider, sir, what would that do but cause a panic? Shattering what little hope this city still has, no doubt. Ask yourself honestly, sir, can't you smell the tension in the air when you step outside the sanctuary which you have made of your home? Imagine how much worse it would be if the average citizen knew the terrible truth of the abject slavery that awaits them as inevitably as death, that their destiny was to live in misery and squalor, as like as not led off in chains from everything they had ever known or loved. How could any man bear to know that within weeks they will be forced to watch helplessly as their children are auctioned off, never to be seen or heard from again? You can see the terrible panic all this would cause, no? As detrimental to the city as the flaming barrels of pitch that will come flying in to explode in billowing infernos soon enough."

  Halence paused, no doubt gauging the effect his words and the letters were having on the pale-faced lord. "I trust, sir, that this will all be held in the strictest of confidences." Lord Salsbruce responded with a jerky nod, seemingly too shocked to utter a word allowed. His eyes, Sorn noted, were searching almost desperately for sight of his children at the far end of his garden. It was as if even now he were witnessing the horror of screams and flames all about him, his little ones shrieking desperately as they were dragged away by laughing soldiers to suffer brutalities unfathomable. Nightmarish thoughts, untenable to any parent the world over. Sorn ached in sympathy for the man, and his heart filled with rage at the thought of the whole city being forced to suffer this terrible fate.

  "Sorn, are you all right?" Halence whispered, looking closely at him. It was only then Sorn realized that his expression must have been foreboding enough to break Lord Salsbruce out of his own painful preoccupation to focus for the first time on his other guest.

  "Yes, lad," Lord Salsbruce interjected. "Are you quite all right? Would you like me to order us some tea?"

  Sorn shook his head with a grimace. "I am sorry my lord. It’s just that the thought of that invading army shattering the lives of innocent families, laughing as they tear crying children out of the arms of their weeping mothers, forcing them to endure brutality after brutality, shipping them off to work camps until they die of exhaustion and abuse, it just makes me want to rip the heads off each and every one of those invading bastards!"

  Sorn's voice, though quiet, had been filled with a seething intensity. His own pent up fury surprised him. Sorn knew this was not the time to allow his passions to boil over, and in some quiet part of his mind castigated himself for not having better control.

  Though obviously surprised and perhaps a tad alarmed by this unexpected outburst from his heretofore silent guest, Lord Salsbruce did not appear unsympathetic to Sorn's feelings. His expression, however, did indicate that he was more than a bit curious as to what Sorn's role was here, his youth and outburst making him stand out all the more.

  "I agree with you completely, lad. But what I feel most is dread. Be grateful that you don't yet have a family of your own to protect."

  "Please forgive my companion's outburst," said a placating Halence. "He tends toward anger as opposed to fear. You may find in time that his temperament is somewhat justified. He is also one of the most honest and conscientious young men you will ever meet. His family is a powerful one, and I am pleased to have him with me on this voyage."

  Sorn, for his part, found his wrath quickly melting into mild embarrassment at Halence's compliment and the awkward notice both. He understood too that Halence was suggesting that Sorn was himself the scion of some family, perhaps implying as well that he might indicate international interest in Caverenoc, all giving further justification to his being there.

  Halence, however, was anxious to get things back on track. "Unfortunately, for all the hopes his family had of forging an alliance with Caverenoc, all the reports hold that the city is, for lack of a better word, doomed." Halence sighed as if dealing with an issue that, though difficult, must be faced. "My ship is, sadly, the last ship that Caverenoc will ever see. What the king himself is only now accepting, and the lords of the north will no doubt conclude with the reports we shall bring them, is that Caverenoc's days are severely numbered. Sorn will be able to tell them nothing to the contrary of that assumption either. The cause is lost before it has even begun, the king's plea the last whispers of a dying era. You and I both know, my lord, by the accounts we have both read, the terrible fate that lies in store for each and every family in this city when the walls are breached, and the fifty thousand soldiers waiting outside even now finally make their charge, drunk on battle lust and savagery. How many thousands do you think will die to the most brutal of lusts that very first night?"

  Halence shook his head in sympathy. "Truly, sir, I wish I could give some hope, some succor on behalf of your beloved city and its people, but I cannot."

  "Then why are you here?" Lord Salsbruce asked in a strained whisper. "Why do you torment me with these accounts and dire predictions of inescapable horror shortly to befall me and my family, if you did not have some message of hope?" His voice was indignant, his eyes pleading.

  Halence smiled. "Ah. And that is just it. All I have is one small ship. I can do nothing to defeat the
depredations of an invading army, nor the plight of a whole city's people. But there is one thing I can do with such a ship that has managed to run the blockade once before, and that is to take a select few passengers away from the hopeless nightmare of butchery and horror to come and give those lucky few the chance of a better life, in a land both welcoming and free."

  Halence paused a moment, as if to let those words sink in.

  "Such a venture would not be cheap, I assure you. It would, in fact, be quite dear. I am, after all, risking my life entire once again, and no man that I know plans to spend gold, once he's passed into the beyond. Still, to save families entire, to snatch them from the very clutches of disaster, to give them lives filled with hope once again, that is a cause I will sail for. Yet for my own sake, since a voyage this risky may well be my last, I had best make the passage dear. Dear and sweet as my own life. Dear enough so that only those who value the lives of their loved ones enough to pay without balking or shirking would sail, those few being worthy of the risk. For it is only that handful of individuals who truly appreciate the gift, the opportunity that I am giving them, even as I put the lives of myself and my crew in peril by doing so."

  Halence sighed and shook his head. "And truly, the moment those boulders start crashing upon the walls of Caverenoc and one spends one's last tormented nights of freedom hearing the pounding of boulders like the drums of doom signaling the end of all one holds sacred, would a man think any price too great to save his family? But by then it would be far too late, the last boat of salvation having made its voyage days ago. And the greatest tragedy is, of course, that the money that was so hard to part with should have been spent with the same careless abandon as a man savoring his last days on this world, seeing as how the Empire would seize everything anyway in all its greed. All a man's wealth, and all a man's children."

  Halence's voice had turned cold and foreboding as he spoke, a perfect grim counterpoint to the glimmer of hope he gave. Though the captain of that last vessel had indicated that the price of salvation was a steep one, it at least offered a desperate sliver of hope. Hope that would be torn asunder in the blink of an eye, should one stint for a moment on paying the price.

  At least, Sorn thought, this was the message that Halence was attempting to convey, and it seemed that his estimation of Lord Salsbruce was near on target as their rather one-sided negotiations commenced.

  "I see. So you do offer hope. For a price."

  Halence, for his part, simply stared aloofly at Salsbruce. Silent, unnerving, waiting for him to make the first move.

  "All right." Lord Salsbruce sighed, weary and drained, at that moment looking far older than his years. "How much to secure passage for my family and me upon your vessel?"

  Halence paused a moment before replying, giving his words all the more weight. "You tell me. What is the salvation of all you hold dear worth? Can you put a price on your child's smile? Of knowing that Bruciell's youth will be a happy one where her childhood can be free of care and her adolescence with no greater concern than caring for her siblings and catching the eye of the boy she adores? Of knowing that your son will be able to think of puppies and knights both with innocence, to have hope, one day, of taking your name and your teachings to one day rule his own house? Come now, Lord Salsbruce, you know as well as I do, in exquisite detail, the degradations and suffering faced by boys and girls both who weren't so lucky as to be given this hope of salvation. The horrors endured by parents who were not so fortunate as to have one come calling who could give them this deliverance, no matter how they begged and pleaded." A pause so tense Sorn thought he could cut it with a knife, the captain's hard gaze locking upon Salsbruce's own.

  "And forgive my candor, Lord Salsbruce, but what would befall your beloved wife, so close to term and so fragile, a pair of delicate lives already so fraught with peril, when the walls of Caverenoc come crashing down? Would either survive the pain and brutality in store for them that first night? And even if they did, what hope would you have of being allowed to keep them? To keep any of your children? Can you put a price on delivering your family from this nightmare to a place of safety? If so, I am anxious to hear the amount.

  "I will warn you of one thing, however," Halence grimly continued. "Do not offer a bid any less than what you are actually willing to pay. If I feel for a moment that you are trivializing my offer, showing how little your family means to you, I will, without hesitation, get up and walk out that gate, and you may keep every copper penny you own for all I care, till the moment those walls come crashing down in stone and burning pitch and those soldiers tear everything you ever loved or had from your desperate greedy hands. Do we understand each other?"

  Lord Salsbruce's countenance had taken on a ghastly pallor, the face of a man forced to see firsthand the horrors of war. He was drained of all the warm bonhomie and exuberance that had filled him such a short time ago. His voice hitched as he named a figure, and Halence gazed coolly a moment before giving a slight nod. "Done, then. Half now, half when we are at sea."

  "Very well," Lord Salsbruce said with a relieved sigh. "I shall have to go to our bank to withdraw it, however. Tell me, Captain Halence, what assurance do I have that you will even be able to run the blockade a second time? Twice the fool would I be, should I run from doom here just to lose my family at sea."

  "Ah." At this, Halence flashed Salsbruce a confident grin. "Now on that measure at least, I can reassure you, good Lord Salsbruce. The secret to even making it through the effectively positioned blockade in the first place was by dint of our ship's wizard. He is my partner in this venture, no less than a full mage in terms of power. He was able to sense the presence of ships miles off, and when two came upon us in the dead of night, our wizard was able to wake up from a deep sleep and send both to the bottom of the sea as blazing infernos in a matter of minutes. On that, you have my word. Further, you could inquire of any guard posted on the fort at the breakwater entrance to the port last night. My understanding is that more than a few lords taking their leisure on these very hills also saw the twin pillars of flame."

  Lord Salsbruce nodded thoughtfully. "I believe you, Captain. I had heard an interesting rumor about ships burning at sea last night. As I recall, it was attributed to a mage, though the how or why of it seemed somewhat mixed."

  Halence nodded. "Now as to what you and your family may bring, obviously size is a limited commodity on our ship. Nonetheless, you may bring two full trunks with you, and you may even bring a personal weapon if that makes you feel more comfortable. No crossbows or the like, of course. I know full well that you will in all likelihood have many times the price of your passage stored away in your luggage, and I can well appreciate your need for security. Thus only passengers shall be allowed in the cargo hull, and I myself or our mage, of course. Fear not for my sailors either. They are a trustworthy lot, and know not to anger me on this voyage. Their own lives depend upon it.

  "As to making your withdrawal, I cannot over-emphasize the importance of subtlety here. If there is a panic at the dock with people trying desperately to board, I will have to depart immediately or we will all surely be doomed. So discretion, in this case, is to be exercised for your own family's sake, as well as my ships.

  “I had been informed that during times of emergency, limits could be imposed in regards to how much could be withdrawn from the Bank of Caverenoc. You will be pleased to know, however, that the king has given me his assurance that he will use his influence to prevent the bank from enforcing any strictures on the amount one may withdraw from one’s account at this time. A rumor has already been initiated suggesting that our ship will, in fact, be using its knowledge of a supposed secret route overlooked by the blockade to secure mercenary assistance on behalf of Caverenoc and that, in fact, the loyal nobility of Caverenoc is being forced to pay an obligatory tax of sorts to help cover the cost of hiring said mercenaries. For this reason, one does not want to look too enthusiastic withdrawing one's funds.

  �
�Additionally, you may wish to start the rumor that the mage’s guild has designed a spell used to safeguard valuables during uncertain times as a justification for withdrawing yet more of your funds. I would suggest, however, that you leave some of your money within the bank under the pretext that you are not one to put all your eggs in any one basket. Thus you show your faith in the solidity of Caverenoc’s walls and banking institution both, and further help to allay any suspicions that you are planning on doing anything save dutifully wait out the siege along with everyone else.

  "Again, my lord, discretion is utterly vital to what we are planning. If unfavorable rumors start about what we are truly up to, that could well cause the very panic the king has been working so hard to avoid, and his majesty has let it be known to me that this would displease him greatly. A position I agree with entirely, as a riot would not only be bad for the city, it would hinder our chances of a successful nighttime voyage through the blockade as well." Halence paused, waiting for Lord Salsbruce to nod before continuing.

  "My men shall carry your trunks to the pier. I suggest you pack tomorrow so that all is prepared for when we leave. Should all go as planned, we will be leaving the night after this. We will come for your trunks on that afternoon and sail at darkness. Again, be circumspect when you pack. I recommend you give the servants the day off and pack all that you value yourself. This way you will have secured your valuables and be able to accompany us to the pier with none the wiser. When the servants return they might suspect you don't trust them in these troubled times, but far better hurt feelings than their knowing you are leaving without them, forcing them to contemplate how grave their own futures must be. For this alone could start the rumors that could doom the city and our voyage both.” Halence raised a placating hand at that point, as if to forestall any protest on the leaving of the servants. “It is not that we do not care for them, sir. Rather, it is that space on the ship is limited, and so we must enforce a strict policy wherein no passenger may bring any save his immediate family. To inform one's servants, or even one’s extended family, could well cause a panic, which again, would gravely hinder our purpose.