The Rollo estate looked like someone had taken a World War 2 bunker and put it through multiple makeovers. The first and most apparent being an attempt to make it into some kind of Victorian manor, adding asymmetrical facades painted with deep blue ornate lines marking the corners within the mathematical edges and giving it the impression they pulled it out of a comic book.
The second and less aesthetic addition to the building had been the massive wooden box that had been slapped on to its side. There were no decorations or aesthetic to the box, large, brown, and with carved out round windows at regular intervals.
Rick noticed how well kept and smooth the road was leading into and out of the estate. Particularly because of the armed guards standing at the gate.
“Subtle.” Eva whispered from his side, glaring from under the hood of her cape.
“Hm?”
“Twenty guards.” She pointed, then made a gesture with her head to the Orcs they’d brought along. Twenty in total. “It means he thinks they’re enough.”
Rick was no expert, but one look at the guards confirmed none of them were equipped with even a fraction of the armor the knights had, wearing pieces of light blue metal only over their torso and upon their heads. What he noticed, however, was the severe discipline in their posture.
Not that he planned to fight, the Orcs he’d brought along were loaded, each of them carrying large boxes that jingled with the sound of shifting coins.
“What do you think?” Rick glanced over his shoulder at Monica.
The Sabertooth made a curious little sound, drifting her attention over the line-up at the gate ahead and shrugged. “Annoying. Stink of many tricks.”
“Makes sense.” Eva mumbled. “He’s not of full nobility.”
Meaning there were restrictions on what he could and couldn’t deck his guards with. No amount of gold would allow him to give them the sort of enchanted armor knights had. How would he have compensated? The question left Rick scratching his chin as he approached.
One guard quickly stepped out of line and walked up to him. “Greetings, my Lord.” She lowered to a knee with machine-like precision. “We are honored by your visit, unfortunately, the Master of the house is currently indisposed.”
Rick could almost feel Eva’s condescension oozing from behind him. “That’s a shame. Give him my best wishes.” He replied, doing the little gesture that everyone took to mean they could stand back up. “I was looking to buy some slaves, would there be anyone with the capacity to negotiate with me?”
The maiden bowed. “I will confirm, my Lord.”
She turned and left, hurrying to the building.
Rick mused as his eyes kept gravitating towards the wooden building. There was nothing extraordinary about it. Somehow, it was disappointing. No crackle of thunder, no miasma or eerie fog, no dilapidated or any warning signs. Nothing that made it feel like it was the only place in Sinco one could purchase lives like they were objects.
It was… mundane.
Maybe that was what unnerved him. That the only thing that made that building stand out was his knowledge of what it contained. Without the certainty, he could’ve just walked past and never even taken a second glance.
Even Monica appeared entirely unconcerned about it, appearing more concerned with some scent she’d caught in the air.
“You figure the reason he presents the place so nicely is to make it easier for parents to sell their daughters away?”
The surrounding maidens twitched at the coldness in his voice, even the guards eyed him, while the Orcs growled in approval.
“I couldn’t say.” Eva whispered, lowering the edge of her hood and drawing the cape more tightly against her body to hide from the sun’s glare. “I shouldn’t be here.”
“And I disagree.”
Because Eva was the only person he trusted that had passable knowledge about the inner workings of the nobility. Kiara was a foreigner to the kingdom’s ways, Yasir would likely throttle Rollo at the first opportunity, and Whitneye was not someone he knew enough to trust for this kind of thing.
Their brief moment was interrupted with the figure that emerged from the house, a woman of all things, following the maiden. “She’s human.” Eva whispered under her breath. “They’re trying to butter you up.”
“You have better chances than she does.”
It was amusing, how the Fledgling stiffened under the cape.
He wasn’t lying either, the approaching woman was pretty in the same way a painting was pretty. Everything about the dress, exposed pale neck, carefully braided blonde hair, and make-up was perfectly in place, giving the blonde woman an air of sophisticated and controlled beauty. Which was to say that she was still only half as alluring as the average maiden waking up on a bad-hair day.
There was just no denying how every maiden looked like they’d been plucked out of a comic or magazine, and that was when they weren’t even trying.
“My Lord.” The woman bowed her head, lifting the edges of her dress. “I am Hipa, the first wife of the household, please, follow me.”
“I will take Eva with me, if you don’t mind.” Rick stepped through the opening gate, glancing over at Monica and the others. “No fighting.”
Hipa smiled stiffly at them, glancing at Eva and turning to the house. The woman promptly spoke about the building, explaining how it was a couple hundred years old and that it’d been around since the founding of the city and… Rick just stopped paying attention. The maidens inside the household gave off a far more dangerous vibe than the guards, they smiled and they did the little bows, perfectly formal and civilized.
But there was no missing that near animalistic way in which they sniffed the air, the sharpness of their eyes when they looked Eva over, and how they reacted upon realizing what Eva was, the way their gloved hands weren’t clenched into fists but opened into claws, how they flashed fangs rather than tighten lips. All subtly hidden within turns of the head and little gestures, trying to avoid making it too obvious these maidens were not the stiff soldiers at the gate but predators that had been domesticated.
“If I don’t mind my asking, what breed is the maiden you brought? She is very well behaved.”
Rick glanced at Hipa for a second, the curiosity in her posture was forced, stiff, nervously avoiding the Fledgling’s red gaze. Hipa knew, or at least suspected. “She is Evangeline, that’s all that matters to me.”
To her merit, the woman quickly nodded, gesturing them into a light green room that was sparsely decorated. It looked like a trial room, with the table close to one wall and with a line-up of tall wooden chairs that overlooked the rest of the room.
“Please, have a seat. What kind of maiden would you be seeking to purchase? I will call on our best.”
It wasn’t lost on Rick how there was a rather comfortably large sofa on the opposite side of the room that was too bulky not to be made of something thick and sturdy. The room was also entirely devoid of objects that someone with superior speed or strength might grasp and use as an improvised weapon.
He walked to the center of the room, sensing the tingling in his skin intensify. There was an enchantment here as well, he guessed it protected the “buyer” in some way. Rick sat on the sofa, fingers caressing the soft silk, and finding the metal rings where one would hold the chains.
Hipa stood near the door, looking at him with a fake smile and a fake relaxed posture.
“All of them.” He patted the sofa, Eva grimaced, but took the spot next to him.
The lady of the house hesitated. “I must have misheard. Did the Lord say-?”
“All of them.” Rick nodded, making a gesture at the window. “That’s why I brought all that gold.”
The woman’s eyes bulged, swaying as she turned to the door. “I… need to…” She didn’t even finish the sentence, closing the door behind her.
“Corsets are bad for one’s health.” He muttered amusedly, leaning back and pressing down on the red silk. “This thing’s really bouncy. Wonder what it’s made of? It’s not stuffing.”
The Fledgling scooted further away, leaning against the edge and staring at the door. “This is… substandard.”
“Really now.”
“This room attempts to replicate the slave rooms in the capital, but it’s a pale imitation.” She muttered, fingers tracing over the fabric. “It’s too soft.”
There was a longing in her red eyes, attention shifting towards the large chairs opposite in the room. From where they sat, they looked like a panel of judges. There was a subtle illusion to the room’s design, it was slightly askew, allowing the chairs to look down on whoever sat on the sofa. The door at this end of the room was also smaller, small enough Rick would be forced to bow a little if he’d used it.
The far door opened, and in stepped a ball of a man. Rick didn’t need introductions. “It’s a pleasure to see you recover so quickly, Rollo, I’d been told you’d been indisposed, I almost brought my healer.”
He smiled as the newest addition to the room looked between the chairs and the sofa.
Rollo was a man who wore his wealth like a second skin, with gold threaded to the tailored red garish garments, the man was like a Santa parody. He wore the crest of his household in the center of his chest, and in the rings that adorned his meaty fingers. A lion, fierce and proud, standing guard of a pile of gold, ready to pounce upon any that dared approach.
The crest was awfully similar to the one stamped on the tools used over at the fortress at the center of the city.
Rollo approached swiftly, hobbling to the center of the room and lowering himself to a knee. “My Lord, I-.”
“Please, there’s no need for formalities.” Rick waved him off. “Have a seat.”
The man’s gaze moved from the empty spot at Rick’s right, to the tall chairs on the opposite wall. “Certainly, my Lord.” He stood straight, and clapped twice, the door opened and two maidens entered, bringing a simple wooden chair, placing it at the center of the room and leaving.
Eva stirred at his side, back straightening and the maiden’s expression becoming more severe. “You’re not scared?”
“If the Lord wishes me dead, there is very little I could do to prevent it.” Rollo declared, the chair creaking under his weight as he rubbed his ring under his digit. “If I may ask the question. Am I to expect negotiations with the infamously reclusive Vampire Lords?”
“I’d expect Monica’s claws would warmly greet any Vampire trying to set foot on Sinco.” Rick smiled humorlessly.
Rollo glanced at Eva. “So you betrayed them.”
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She clenched her jaw. “I have never and will never serve those monsters.”
The merchant’s gaze shifted from Rick to her, and then turned to glance at the window, slowly returning to him.
“Any interesting thoughts?” Rick prompted, leaning back on the sofa.
“I cannot seem to fathom why you would consider purchasing so many maidens, nor who to bond them to.”
Rick quirked a brow. “And why would that be of my concern?”
“I have several dozen young men, smart young men, who are to handle the bonds of all the stock, ensuring they remain healthy and don’t go feral.” Rollo replied. “It is not an insignificant expense.”
There was an offhanded edge to his words that gave Rick pause. “Are you concerned for their wellbeing?”
“Of course I would be!” The rotund man shook on the chair, a slight shake of his head causing his body to visibly vibrate. “I do not sell filth, no matter what others might claim. Quality of health and mind are of the utmost importance.”
It took a moment for the statement to make sense. “If I were to treat them poorly, no one would sell to you. Particularly if it’s a family member, or a loved one. Tragedy makes for good profit, right?” Rick tapped his chin for a moment. “What about the tribe?”
“The average human can only form up to ten bonds, the quickest estimate does not bode well for the men of the tribe to take up these maidens.” Rollo waved his sausage fingers dismissively.
“I’ll bond with them. Most, I’d expect at least.”
The gesture froze mid-air, the man’s eyes bulged. “That… is not possible.”
“I’m bonded to about half of the non-Orcs in the tribe, and the two leaders, one of whom is standing right outside. I’d be interested in finding out how far that number can go.” Rick’s smile was skewed. “And any I can’t take, I’ll get the tribe to help with.”
Rollo tried to speak, but his mouth did little more than open and close quietly. Then his brow furrowed, face losing a shade of color, eyes widening. “You intend to have them in your service directly, not sell them.”
Eva’s gaze flickered between Rollo and Rick, the two met gazes, with the merchant’s lips curling in a distinctly piggy smile.
“I see.” Smugly, he wriggled into his chair, shit-eating grin growing, flashing perfect pearly teeth. “I see, I see.” He rubbed his hands together. “I am sure we can reach a profitable decision for all parties involved.”
Rick knew all too well the risk that, when confronted with losing all his slaves with no profit, Rollo might have opted to slaughter them. Yasir had not been kind in his telling of the money-grubbing merchant, and even he declared just taking everything away would be too cruel.
And now he had to make deals with fat devils.
“I plan to abolish slavery entirely. Not immediately, that would cause a riot, but bit by bit. Starting with this nice little transaction.” Rick cocked his head, returning the smile, enjoying the way the smugness froze in place. “Seeing how you run the mine’s operation and also have your own little research going on, I thought that keeping things… polite… was the best way. Eva?”
The Fledgling shot to her feet, pulling out a piece of paper and offering it to the merchant. “That would be the price per slave. Since we intend to buy every available maiden, we expect a sizable discount.” She paused for a second. “May I inquire who designed the Lightning-Vault’s mechanisms?”
“It was someone under Thorley…” Rollo muttered distraught, checking the paper. His eyes instantly bulged hard enough they nearly popped out of his skull. His face went from pale to red, the flabby extra chin trembling as the paper crumpled within his grasp. “Do you take me for a Doggirl chasing a bone!?”
Rick didn’t react, shrugging. “Not really, but if you opt to be… generous, in this exchange, then I would have a set of extra propositions for you.”
The merchant glared, fists loosening slightly. “I am nothing if not in service to the Lord.” He spoke through gritted teeth.
“I need to get your specialists to teach others. Whoever wishes to learn, in fact.”
“Why would I do that!?” This time he stood up, slamming his hands against the armrests of the chair, wobbling on his feet with a tomato face. “You want to take away not just slaves but hard-earned knowledge and expertise!?”
“You would get three percent of the slave purchase price, per month. For a minimum of a five-year contract.” Rick smoothed his pants, not entirely surprised by the reaction. “In exchange, you hold an open session twice a week. All your experts available for anyone to ask them questions for two hours. And I will bump that three percent to five if you also design some products for me.”
Rollo’s shoulders loosened, turning to the window and moving to stand there, looking at the blue summer sky outside, fingers rapping against his thighs in a very distinct pattern, almost musical. The merchant’s lips twitched, as if speaking under his breath, but not making a sound.
Eva remained stiff, looking ahead, though glancing at Rick as the former chemistry teacher mentally counted down seconds.
“What sort of… products? And who would keep ownership over these designs?”
“We would share ownership, the city would keep fifty one percent of any profits.”
Rollo scoffed. “Thirty percent, I would be the one needing to distribute it.”
“Fifty one, the city would use some of their forces to guarantee safe travel to Aubria.”
“Thirty five, whatever you plan to create wouldn’t be guaranteed product.”
“Fifty one, we are paying for its development in its entirety. Profits from selling it would be only diminished from transport and networking.”
The merchant growled. “Forty, you lack the contacts.”
“Fifty one, I never planned to sell the product to begin with.” He replied.
“Forty five, I would need to figure out ways to make it commercially viable, and I’ve yet to know a single detail.”
“Sixty.”
A long silence followed, Rollo pulled his arms back, turning to look at him with a scowl. “You do not play the game of merchants well, my Lord.”
“I’m well aware of the money sink that is trying to turn an idea into reality. And the risks of said idea, even if implemented properly, being a catastrophic failure.” Rick’s voice was calm, even. “I can assure you, the ideas I will ask of you are ones that were highly useful in the world I come from. Revolutionary, one might say.”
The man’s eyes widened, his hand reaching for his pocket and squeezing it, looking down, and then at Rick again.
“I will say it again, in case whatever you’re using for truth detection hasn’t caught it. Yes, I am an otherworlder.” Rick grinned this time, raising his brows amusedly. “So what will it be, sir Rollo?”
The man’s whole body shuddered, hiding his widening eyes as he turned to look out the window to hide his expression. “Sixty it is.” His hands were clenched shut, there was a tremble in his voice. “Having agreed to this, what… would be the product you wish to create?”
“The first product I wish for you to create is a piece of equipment that can suck air or liquids out of a container until there is only a vacuum, and that can dump them into a second container, sustaining a heightened output pressure that can be regulated.”
Rollo nodded. “That shouldn’t be too hard, what would-?”
“It needs to be strong enough to compress three hundred units of air at sea level into the volume of a singular unit of air. Preferably, the resulting unit of air volume being the equivalent of the amount of water you would displace were you to submerge yourself into a bathtub.” He sang the words out with a wide grin, lifting his finger into the air. “Oh, and do be careful with the heat and cold that such a process generates, it wouldn’t do if the device just outright breaks after a day of use. It needs to function for hours at a time without a break or repairs.”
“That… is quite the ask, my Lord.”
“I’d imagine it to be so.” He shrugged. “Also, if you can apply and sustain a vacuum to lightbulbs, their life-cycle would likely last far longer.”
The man combed his hair through sweaty fingers. “I… see.” He muttered, gaze turning distant, not looking at anything in particular.
Rick could almost hear the man’s imagination running wild with questions regarding what they could use the device for. If the guy found some neat utility, that would be nice, but he was mostly preoccupied with getting some decent lab and industrial equipment for his lab. The Haber-Bosch process was at the top of the list of priorities.
If he wanted to bypass a lot of the earlier forms of chemistry and jump into industrialized ammonia production, this was a crucial component.
“My Lord also came looking for miss Arietta, the Puppeteer.” Eva broke the silence, reminding Rick of the last item on the list. She quickly glanced at him to confirm, and at his nod, relaxed. “Would she be amongst the maidens in the purchase list?”
“Please bring Arietta.” Rollo spoke without missing a beat, turning to the far door, raising his voice before glancing at Rick once more. “She has proven to be an invaluable aid to the household, her skills have allowed a substantial reduction in injuries in our more dangerous jobs.”
“Glad to hear.”
Rick nodded a little, glancing at the door as a woman stepped through, bowing in greeting. “Master Rollo, I was told…”
Arietta was a young-looking maiden, perhaps in her late twenties. She was a study in contrasts, delicate yet severe. Her silver hair tightly bound into a clockwork braid cascading down her shoulder. Her face was like a doll’s, immaculate porcelain skin that was smoothly carved, punctuated by the steely glint of her black eyes. She wore a simple black servant’s dress that seemed to contain a corset inlaid into the fabric.
Her gaze coursed through the room, traveling from Rollo to Rick.
He stood up, smiling. “Welcome, Arietta I presume?”
“This is the… new Lord.” The merchant quickly introduced him.
The maiden’s face stilled, hands folded on top of one another as she looked from him to Eva, and back. There was a moment where Rick felt the briefest sensation of something brushing against his thoughts, like a tentative idea seeking purchase.
Instantly Eva lunged, placing herself between her and Rick, and Arietta recoiling, eyes widening as she pressed herself against the far wall. “What ARE you!?” She whispered a bit too loudly.
“Rick, she was trying to read your thoughts.” The Fledgling hissed, eyes narrowing and glowing red.
“I figured.” He grasped Eva’s shoulder, tugging her a step back. The maiden hesitated but followed, eyes locked on the Puppeteer.
“Arietta, how-!” Rollo quickly rushed to the maiden.
“Stop.” Rick waved him off, turning to the wide-eyed maiden that was trying to compress herself into the wall and turn into a painting. “I’m not sure what just happened, but no harm, no foul. Would you be willing to sit down and talk? The city has some issues, and we’d like to request your aid.”
“How… how are you even sane!?” The Puppeteer spoke with a hushed voice that trembled with shrill edges.
Rick raised his hands taking a step back and away. “I’m… not sure what you mean?”
“Arietta!” Rollo hissed through flapping lips.
She looked at him, swallowing, pulling her hands down against her skirt and taking a deep breath. Instantly she was back to apparent total calmness. “Excuse my rudeness, my Lord.” She bowed, lowering her head. “It was not my place, and the fault of it is entirely my own. I would beg not to consider it a reflection of Master Rollo.”
“I said it was alright.” He waved her off. “Could you elaborate on… whatever shocked you? I’ve never seen anyone react like that before.”
“You… do you not hear the voices?” The woman’s face contorted into half a grimace, fingers clenching at the cloth of her dress. “Is that normal where you come from?” There was a distinct horrified edge to her words.
“I was looked over by a psychic not that long ago, and she didn’t mention anything of the sort.” At his declaration, Eva looked over her shoulder at him, blinking twice as she reached to touch her throat. Was she thinking of the bond? Rick pushed the idea aside. “It doesn’t matter either way.” A simple shrug followed. “I sought you by name because we need someone who’s familiar with the legal system in more than just passing.”
And to help add a bump of legitimacy to him being there, though that part he opted to keep to himself.
That got her attention. The woman glanced at Rollo, who immediately grimaced, frowned, grimaced, and then paled. “You…?”
“Would this be a request to myself, or the Master?” Arietta’s tone had shifted, cold and hard, a wall.
There was pain there, pain directed at him.
Rick lowered his gaze slightly. “Yours, preferably.”
She nodded once, then bowed. “I would kindly request not to.”
Rick studied her stern expression, the posture of her hands, smooth against the fabric of her dress, and the way she met his eyes without flinching. Even though Rollo was right there, hands clenching and wringing his meaty fingers, glancing between the two.
“There is nothing I could offer to get you to consider helping the city?”
She raised her chin. “I am very happy here with Master Rollo.”
He felt a wave of relief hearing those words, something about the rejection felt… earnest. Good. Considering he’d come here to literally put a mountain of gold on a sleazy man’s lap to buy slaves, Rick had been feeling like he needed a bath.
The issue remained, however.
“Would you be open to teach someone seeking to learn about law?”
Arietta glanced at Rollo, the quiet unspoken conversation that followed had the merchant’s face shifting through colors like a stop-light that’d gone haywire. The maiden slowly turned to Rick, nodding in hesitation.
“I… will teach, if the student is someone worth teaching to.”
The room, somehow, became quieter. Two maidens and a merchant were staring at him with the same kind of nervousness of a classroom waiting to hear their scores. Though he suspected the stakes were far higher for the Puppeteer.
He just let out a smile and a nod. “I guess that’s the best I could ask for.” He moved to offer Rollo a hand to shake, turning his way fully, and ignoring the way the psychic nearly sighed herself into a puddle. “The paperwork can be handled later, I’d rather start getting those maidens out and about.”
The merchant was all too happy to get him out of the room and smooth out the final tweaks and details of their agreement.
It would be a long and hard day of seeing new faces, hearing new names, and going through the bonding pledge over and over and over until Rick’s head felt like it would explode. By that time, he’d only managed to go through two-thirds of the lot, and the men of the tribe had to be called in to finish what remained.
And there was still so much more work that needed to be done to finalize the transition. Living arrangements, food arrangements, and that was ignoring that they’d need to go through them and figure out what sort of work they might want or be able to do.
Rick felt like someone had stuffed hot lead into his skull.
The day ended with Dia using her magical fingers to massage his neck and head, easing away the growing migraine. She soothed him with words of the people she’d helped, having the Polita squad going all over the place and lending a hand with the milder cases.
That night, they got a receipt from Rollo for the collars.