Peril & Profit

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Peril & Profit Page 24

by M. H. Johnson


  "But of course, lad," Vorstice assured, again smiling coldly. His eyes were intently focused upon Sorn's pathetic looking form and the glass he was pouring into, paying no attention to his own. Sorn's own gaze looked intently for the telltale signs he most desired to see and he was not disappointed, as evidence by his own smile, quickly disguised as the contented grin of a man enjoying his cups in his stupor.

  "Again, Lord Vorstice, this is most excellent wine." Sorn then coughed, laying it on thick as Vorstice sipped his own wine, not wanting to inadvertently give his own hidden cards away.

  "As you can see, I myself am not in the best of health. I am glad we could sit."

  "Oh don't worry about that, lad. Sit for as long as you like." Vorstice grinned. "It is good wine, is it not? I had it shipped from the north. Excellent vineyards up past York, you know."

  "Oh, have you been to York?" Sorn asked with feigned curiosity.

  The cold-eyed lord nodded. "As a matter of fact, I have, a time or two in my youth. I was an adventurous lad, like you, off to increase our family fortunes, so to speak, and much like your own captain, not above making the most of what opportunities presented themselves." Vorstice's smirk made Sorn's stomach churn. "You really have no idea the profit to be made, selling good northern stock down south. The girls, ah… blond-haired, naive, looking for a new life. And we most certainly delivered on that. But why am I telling you this?"

  Vorstice seemed a bit disconcerted by his own confession. Sorn was feeling a tad sickened, knowing exactly what Vorstice had meant. He was, for all intents, conceding to being a flesh peddler, selling northern girls into southern slavery. A practice, Sorn recalled, that had only recently come to a halt in the south, and only so far as Caverenoc.

  "Oh well, I suppose it doesn't matter," Vorstice continued airily. "After all, it’s not like I need to worry about rumors of my misspent youth after all these years, not that anyone would care, really, what with the siege and all. And it is not like you will be off to tell them anytime soon, dear Sorn, in any case."

  "Opportunity is good," Sorn said naively. "Captain Halence believes in making the most of any trading opportunity."

  "Indeed." Vorstice's knowing smile didn't touch his calculating gaze. "I quite agree. You make quite a fine trading piece yourself, dear Sorn. Despite your weakened state. If anything, I believe that will help expedite matters."

  "Expedition is good," Sorn said, still apparently in a half-stupor. "I don't suppose you have seen captain Halence about? Here I came just to burden you with my troubles, and you are being the perfect host with conversation and wine both." Sorn sighed. "I pray he's not mad at me. I was supposed to stay with the ship and rest. But I figured that if anyone had seen where he went this morning, it would be you, dear Lord Vorstice, which is why I thought I should stop by to see you. I do hope you don't mind."

  "Oh not at all, dear Sorn, not at all. Tell me, don't you find it curious that I know your name, that I know as well that you are supposedly Captain Halence's ship's wizard? His men accredit you with some mighty accomplishments, by the way. They say you managed to burn no less than two ships to ashes with balls of fire while breaking through the blockade. Furthermore, they credit you with saving Captain Halence single-handedly from no less than four brigands last night as well. Though in truth, I had expected better from those louts, you know. Still, it is to your ship's credit that not one of them came back to report to my man alive. All they had to do was wreak havoc among your crew, preferably killing the captain or you, the ship's wizard. Capture had been too much to hope for, as valuable a prize as you and Captain Halence both make. It was no small disappointment to find that you had managed to take apart the whole squad. Whatever did you do with them?"

  "Oh, I ate them," replied a grinning Sorn. Though his head was still lowered, his eyes were dancing with a deadly light all their own.

  Vorstice hardly seemed to notice the abrupt change in Sorn's tone as he instantly shifted from dazed stupor to full alertness. Instead, Vorstice abruptly broke into laughter at Sorn's apparent jest.

  "Ate them, lad. Oh, that's rich. So fierce you appear, all bedraggled and wounded! I had heard you had suffered a crossbow bolt to the chest. Jumped into the sea in a delirium, no less. No doubt your wound will fester soon and you will die, yet what is that to me? I get my gold the moment I deliver you, wounded or no. From then on it is in their hands, not mine."

  "You are very clever." Sorn's voice was now clear, gaze focused, measuring Vorstice's every word.

  Lord Vorstice still seemed oblivious to Sorn's abrupt change. The crossbowman could not see Sorn's face, of course, but even they sensed something was not quite as it should be. It was apparent even to them that there was some crack in Vorstice's sphere of confident control, and it left them a bit discomfited, or so Sorn guessed from the faint sounds of their shifting stances, and the prickly scent of alarm just beginning to permeate the room.

  Perhaps it was Vorstice's unusually animated countenance that threw the guards off. The day before even Sorn had noted his reticence, Vorstice seeming to enjoy as he did holding his cards closely. Yet he now seemed to take inordinate pleasure in describing to Sorn every detail of the gambits he presently had in motion.

  "You are quite right, of course, I am." Vorstice agreed, smiling with self-indulgent satisfaction. "I thought where brute force would not take you, perhaps guile would. In fact, I had even planned for the contingency as early as last night, moments after you and your captain had entered my study, knowing you would be valuable pieces to trade to the Empire, should I successfully capture you or at least prevent you from leaving. I deliberately left open the possibility of my coming to buy passage the day after, under the guise of investigating the matter, of course, so I would have a valid pretext to draw you back to my manor when I was better prepared to deal with you. You note the men behind you?"

  Sorn turned about, his face once again set in a dazed stupor. "Hi," Sorn said, giving them a bemused grin.

  The crossbowmen thought this was hilarious, of course, their crude laughter echoing through the study. Lord Vorstice looked perturbed, and quickly the men stifled their snickers under the lord's cold glare.

  "They look to be well-trained soldiers, do they not? Of course they are, and utterly loyal. For my cause is their own. And their triumph, my own. For you see, dear silly boy, they are not Caverenoc's men at all, but loyal soldiers to the Empire!"

  Lord Vorstice's eyes glimmered as if his revelation was a triumph of sorts, set to crush Sorn with the brilliance of Vorstice's treachery. The crossbowmen themselves, however, seemed less than pleased with Lord Vorstice's revelation, as their soft grumbles indicated.

  "Silence!" screeched Vorstice temperamentally, an action that even Sorn could tell was considerably out of character for the man. This caused Sorn to sigh. No matter how much he tried, things never went quite perfectly. He hoped it wouldn't interfere too much with the course he hoped events would take.

  "I am in charge here! Your commander gave you to me! I will not have insolence!" With what seemed great effort, Vorstice seemed to regain control of his mercurial flare-up. "Relax my good men. Sorn is, of course, not going anywhere. He will know about his future destination soon enough." His smile to Sorn was wicked. "You do understand that if you try anything, if I hear one arcane sounding syllable from your lips, if your hands leave that cup even, my men will not hesitate to shoot their crossbows into you. Not that I think you are any great mage by any means. Rather some runaway apprentice with a stolen wand or some such."

  The gasps from the back confused Sorn, as did this reference to wands. What exactly were they? It was obvious that Vorstice himself only had the vaguest notion of the meaning behind the word, or else Sorn would have understood it better.

  "It doesn't matter!" Vorstice roared, apparently to his men's further consternation. "He is not going anywhere, and his hands hold only wine!”

  Vorstice once again turned his focus to Sorn. "Regardless of who you are or w
hat you are capable of, if you try anything untoward, you will be shot with not just one but four crossbow bolts. We already know you can survive one, as evidenced by your standing here. This is why you will note the multiple men ready to transform your back into a rather bloody pincushion, should you step out of line.”

  Vorstice then flashed Sorn a nasty grin. "Tell me, Sorn, do you think you can survive that?"

  Sorn had the dreadful suspicion that he knew exactly what Vorstice's true designs were. And indeed, they seemed far worse than even Sorn or his cousins had suspected. Still, he needed to be sure.

  "But I don't understand," Sorn said, his voice now a weak quaver once again. "What are you intending to do with Halence and me and our men? Why did you have our ship attacked? Don't you realize that we are your only hope out of here?"

  At this, the crossbowmen laughed harshly and Vorstice's smile was chilling indeed.

  "Stupid boy. Don't you get it? I don't need your damn ship! I am working for the Empire! The Empire rewards loyalty, and I am securing power and prestige in the new order, a place for me and my sons, while simultaneously getting to enjoy the downfall of all my competitors. Watching all those vermin brought low will be a victory so sweet it defies expression!"

  Vorstice's countenance, if anything, grew even more ugly as his fierce avarice and sadistic temperament made itself known.

  "Perhaps I will even buy the daughters of my competitors when their own precious children are put on the block. How those arrogant curs scoffed at the idea of my son's marrying their vile little harlots! Now they will have to watch while I make whores of their precious little daughters in truth. How sweet it will be to see those spoiled wenches' arrogant expressions shatter with terror and shame when I take them. How I relish the broken-eyed looks of defeat they will soon enough wear in my presence as they serve my every whim. Much like those blond-haired harlots who thought themselves so high when I took them to my ship so many years ago."

  Vorstice's smile turned to one of twisted self-satisfaction and Sorn intently kept his gaze downward upon the cup in his hands as he strove to control his mounting fury. His expression when he turned once again to Lord Vorstice was bland.

  "Who knows?" Vorstice continued, "perhaps I shall purchase their fathers as my servants as well, and make them watch! It would be such a pleasure to gaze upon the broken countenances of my slaves and watch their defeated expressions once again burn with shame as they must face their fathers' horrified expressions. How sweet it will be to make them face how far they have fallen, again and again, night after night, as I take them! And you think I would trade that victory, that pleasure, to flee like a cur to York? One more refugee held in contempt by that city's arrogant populace? Having to take all my pleasures in secret? To hell with that!" Vorstice roared, slamming his fist against his desk hard enough to jolt the wine bottle resting upon it.

  "This is my victory! The men even now making their way to my abandoned warehouses will be the secret weapon that cracks this city open like a nut! As Caverenoc is pincered both inside and out! The gates will be opened and this city will be flooded with the Empire's men! It will be a flawless victory without the Empire's sorcerers even needing to be summoned. And the credit will be mine! And my family's station will be unshakeable! Who knows? Perhaps I will even be allowed to purchase the princess herself, as a reward for bringing this city to its knees."

  At that point Vorstice actually licked his lips, so great was the pleasure he took in his twisted fantasies of sadistic domination. "So you see, you silly little whelp, I have no need of your ship's pathetic passage. Rather, your ship, insult that it is to the Empire's blockade, will assure me of yet more glory, having captured its captain and sorcerer both!"

  "Vorstice!" One of the men said in a shocked voice. "You say too much!"

  "Silence!" Vorstice screamed, his face becoming a blotched purple in his instant fury. "How dare you speak so to me! I am a lord! I am your master! I will bring this city to your Empire on its knees! How dare you!"

  "This whelp," Vorstice said, suddenly turning his fury onto Sorn. "Is powerless!" He threw his now empty cup straight at Sorn, the cup seeming to narrowly miss Sorn's temple, though Sorn knew the aim to have been true.

  Sorn, of course, only smiled grimly, eyes glaring at Vorstice with barely suppressed fury, completely unfazed by Vorstice's outburst. It seemed that the crossbowmen were slightly more shaken, one quietly whispering to another something about war horses being valuable creatures even if high strung, and their commander would be displeased in the extreme to lose such a valuable tool. The other guard ceased his bitter mutterings instantly.

  It appeared that Vorstice might not be quite the puppet master that he thought he was, Sorn noted, though this observation did absolutely nothing to assuage his mounting fury at this vile creature ranting before him.

  "So." Sorn's voice had fallen to a deadly whisper, though Vorstice apparently made no note of it. "You have captured both Halence and I. How clever of you. Where are you keeping us?"

  Vorstice gave a superior smirk at Sorn's query. "You seek to know where Halence is, I have no doubt. Locked safely in my dungeons below with his men. Each one separated and gagged, though not blindfolded, oh no. Wouldn't want them to miss the show. No sudden surprise resistance from that quarter, I can assure you. And even now I suspect dear Halence is, or soon will be spilling his heart out to my rather effective torturer. One way or another, I will get that gold on his ship as my little present for going to all the trouble of stopping you. My only regret is that you had to interfere at such an inopportune moment. Still, all and all, it works out for the best, for now I have you captured as well. No need for a midnight raid, or hitting you with a drugged dart, for it seems the Empire values any mages it can catch, most especially the enemy's. And if you think I am going to tell you where Halence is, you truly are a fool!"

  Sorn only smiled at that.

  "You are indeed a clever strategist, Lord Vorstice. I wonder if anyone will ever be able to fully appreciate how you managed to smuggle the enemy right into the city." Sorn sighed, shaking his head.

  "Simplicity itself, lad, simplicity itself," Vorstice said lightly, his mercurial mood changing from apoplectic fury to airy indulgence near instantly. "I knew which way the wind was blowing over a year ago. Such being the case, I bought several adjoining warehouses, boarded up the alleys between them, and knocked connecting doorways into all three of them. I then let it be known to Commander Voosrich that I could be of assistance for certain assurances on my own behalf, and he assured me that the Empire always rewarded its allies. I met those few lords of Svalentia with wealth and position not only intact, but greater than it had ever been before Svalentia fell, and understood at once how things lay. Our deal was quickly struck, and as a measure of good faith, my sons even now are captains in the forces surrounding Caverenoc. Good soldiers they are," Vorstice said fondly.

  "In any case, it was simplicity itself to triangulate mutual digging, done discreetly, of course, down to where soil meets bedrock. That wall was the hardest thing to chip through, yet after we had accomplished that feat, everything went perfectly, our tunnel connecting right to their own." Vorstice laughed wryly in memory, oblivious to the growing alarm of the entire group of crossbowmen hearing Vorstice so calmly giving away all their secrets.

  "Took three solid months, and ten slaves died on the Empire's side. Worthless curs. Nonetheless, it was done. We have over three hundred men stationed inside those warehouses, ready to hold the tunnel and admit thousands more. It was a brilliant move on my part to establish our hidden base, if I do say so myself."

  "Lord Vorstice!" interrupted the voice of the crossbowman who appeared to be the leader of their small squad and the former voice of reason. "I suspect you are drunk. Perhaps it is time to put this boy in chains or, dare I suggest it, dispose of him outright. He is now dangerous, I fear, and perhaps our commander would find more to displease him in the knowledge of what this mage now knows than he wo
uld find pleasure in his capture. It would be better for us, too."

  "Kill him?" Vorstice laughed as if a jest had been made. "Are you insane? He is gold! Living, breathing, walking gold! You know well the worth of a captured mage to the Empire. One thousand golds worth for a captured female, and five hundred for a proven child or a male! Just think how much more he will be worth, having been the mage that allowed that ship to break through your blockade! I would be a fool to casually dispose of him. No, better to bind him up as you will. And oh, you might as well muffle his voice. I don't believe they can cast without their hands if they have no wands like your mages do, but why take chances, right? I did not achieve my present station by being a fool!"

  The look Sorn saw one of the crossbowmen directing to Vorstice told plainly as words what that man thought of Vorstice's foolishness as he approached Sorn. It was quite enjoyable to see the loathsome lord make an idiot of himself in front of his underlings, Sorn had to admit, but this did nothing to quell his growing rage. Yet there was one thing further Sorn wanted to know.

  "Just out of curiosity, Lord Vorstice, in deference to how well you've captured me, fooled the city, and indeed, revealed so little of yourself to me, I can only wonder where and how a man so clever as yourself would hide his treasure. Surely not in some predictable chest under some hidden panel by your bed?

  Vorstice laughed out loud at this. "Do you think I am a fool, boy? To reveal the location of my wealth to you? Only a common idiot would hide his wealth in such a predictable place as that! Sure, I have a hidden panel in my bedroom dresser that reveals a small compartment under my bed, filled with several hundred gold royals and a few bags of silver, but this is to be expected! That is the feint, if you will, which will no doubt distract even the most avid of thieves! It will be enough to send them away happily, never thinking to look further, and the fools will die for their crime! The smallest bag is air-tight leather and the silver is coated with a slow acting poison! Only one distinct bag is so coated, of course, and my gold is all quite safe. After all, it is far more convenient to get what gold and silver I need from my quarters than to stroll down to the last cell of my dungeon and reveal my true hoard, which is hidden right under the stones of that cell! I still have a corpse rotting in there, so none would ever suspect it. Truly, it is brilliant!

 

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