As the wagons and carts began to trickle in through the Factory gates, the Maierson workers were there to greet them - all of them, it seemed. They lined the delivery yard and gates, standing shoulder to shoulder, everyone from clerks to forge workers, from the bellow blowers in the sub basement to the inscribers up in the swinging rafters. They watched silently as the first wagons came to a halt, the horses and Centaurs shifting nervously. The only sound was the jingle and creek of the wagons still rolling in. No one moved to help them.
Thumbell peered out fearfully through the slats in the first wagon. “You did tell them we were coming?” he asked Matthew nervously.
“Of course I did,” he said quickly.
The Halfling ducked down even lower. “Do you think that was a good idea then?”
Matthew considered this. The workers’ faces didn’t look promising, but at least no one was carrying weapons, he thought brightly. The forge workers just carried their tools with them, their long hammers, and the inscribers had their chisels and picks, and a few carried shovels and brooms, and… He decided abruptly to stop looking.
“Stay here in the wagon, Maine,” he told his sister. She froze, already climbing half-way up the side. “I mean it!”
She still clung to the side. “Are you sure about that?” she asked.
“It’s fine. Everything’s fine,” he said louder, so that everyone could hear him. The Firstborn didn’t seem convinced. Celeste held her gun in her lap, watching the workers nervously through the slats, while beside her Marsha lay in a daze. Lichi lay propped up in the corner. Without eyes, it was hard to tell, but she appeared to be sleeping. At his words, she stirred now though, arms reaching out from her body to stretch languidly. Her head, still missing chunks out of it, turned this way and that, and then she sat up in surprise.
“Oh! The Maiersons! Have we come to rob them?” she asked brightly, then she paused. “Wait, haven’t we already done that?”
“Shut up, Lichi,” Celeste muttered. She looked at Matthew. “You better start talking to them, Maierson.”
“Right, right,” he said. He laid his hand on the wagon, starting to climb up, when there was a commotion behind the workers. Someone was yelling, and pushing through them.
“Make way! Make way, by God!” It was Kelphin, of all people. He pushed through the crowd hurriedly, shoving workers twice his size out of the way, and sprinted across the yard towards the wagons. “Don’t just stand there!” he yelled back. “Come along and help!”
“Kelphin!” Matthew said in surprise, climbing out. “Thank you! I didn’t think you’d–”
The Elf sprinted past him, climbing up the side of the wagon in a flash. He peered over the top hurriedly, looking down at the Firstborn. “Where are they?” he asked in a panic.
Matthew stared. “What?”
Kelphin hopped down and ran from wagon to wagon, peering inside and growing more frantic each time. “No! No No No No No!” He ran back to Matthew, grabbing his arms. “Where are they?”
“What are you talking about?”
“The artifacts!” Kelphin shouted. “Where are they? I was told you were bringing back what the Firstborn stole! What happened to them?”
Matthew shook him loose. “No, ah– I just brought back the Firstborn, sorry…”
Kelphin looked utterly dumbfounded. “Why???”
“Maierson…” Celeste called warningly. She’d climbed up to the top of the wagon and was staring out at the crowd. “You’d better say something!”
The workers were starting to mutter angrily, shifting and hefting their weapons. Matthew swallowed quickly. He could feel the mood shifting. If they lost control now…
Pushing Kelphin away, he walked towards the workers, raising his hands. Remain calm, he thought to himself. You’re a Maierson and they have to listen to you...
“Start unloading the wagons,” he yelled, trying to make his voice sound as strong as he possibly could. “Let’s get the wounded placed inside. Let the kitchens know I want hot meals and water brought in as soon as possible. Let’s go!”
No one moved. The moment dragged on, and Matthew, feeling his mouth go dry, but then Dwyer shoved his way through the crowd. He stared at Matthew for a heartbeat, then turned and shouted angrily “Well, you heard him! Get a move on!”
Slowly, grumbling, the workers started to move. Their grips loosened on their tools, dropping to the floor, as they shuffled towards the wagons. Matthew started to breathe again.
Dwyer watched their progress for a moment, then walked over. When he was closer. Matthew could see the sweat across his forehead. The foreman nodded, and keeping his voice low, said “That was a hot moment there…”
Matthew tried to speak, but nothing came out, so he just nodded. Dwyer used his cap to wipe his forehead, then stuck it back on tightly. Still speaking low, he muttered “Now what are you thinkin’ here, Mattie?”
He swallowed dryly, trying to put his thoughts together. Just what had he been thinking, he wondered to himself. “They were attacked by some of Trimble’s men. I couldn’t just leave them there.”
“Who?”
“Trimble, he was here at the Auction, it— it doesn’t matter. He doesn’t like us, he doesn’t like Elders. Did you see the fires last night?” Dwyer nodded. “That was his men. They burned half of Gravesend to the ground.”
The foreman stared in shock. “God…”
“They attacked the Firstborn as well. This is what’s left of them.” He gestured to the wagons. “We need to get them inside, post some guards on the gates. The last thing we want is for Trimble’s men to show up here as well.”
Dwyer nodded quickly. “I’ll take care of it.” As he moved away, Kelphin was staring at Matthew.
“If you’re so worried, why bring them here?!” he demanded.
“They were wounded, Kelphin…”
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“Yes! And some of them were wounded robbing us!”
Matthew threw up his hands. “What did you want me to do? Leave them there to be attacked again?”
“No! I wanted you to leave them there AND find some way to get back our property! Did you remember that? The things are going to keep us in business for the foreseeable future?!” The first batch of workers were walking by, carrying injured Firstborn on litters. Kelphin looked aghast as they went by, almost gagging as he saw them being brought inside the Factory. “Ugh, can’t you at least keep them outside? We’re going to need to check each and every one of them now when they leave! Thieving, traitorous scum!”
Matthew turned away in disgust, there was no way he was going to be able to change Kelphin’s mind. The rest of the unloading was going fairly well, under Dwyer’s supervision the workers were moving quickly and carefully, lifting them out of the wagons and transferring them inside. Paicus and William moved along the patients as well, seeing to the most serious cases. Matthew was glad that the Doctor had come along, Paicus seemed to have a calming effect on both the Firstborn and the workers, keeping any tempers from flaring. They would need all the help they could get on that end.
“This is gotta be some kinda sick joke!” Marsha yelled. She clung to the side of the wagon, refusing to let go as four Forge Workers tried to lift her out. Celeste and Thumbell were trying to talk her down, but apparently were having little success.
She stared at Matthew, gritting her teeth. “What’s the plan? You get us inside your little Pyramid and throw us into the fires, or maybe dump us in some vat and dissolve our bones?” She kicked at one of the workers, sending him reeling. “I’m wise to you, Maierson!” she warned.
“Sorry about this,” Celeste muttered, pulling out her gun. She reversed it and bashed the end against Marsha’s fingers, making the big woman cry out and let go. The workers pulled her out and started to hustle her inside, carrying her like a beam over their shoulders. Marsha yelled the entire way, thrashing violently.
Paicus sighed and nodded to William, who hurried quickly in after them, “On it, Doctor!”
Matthew grabbed Thumbell as he was about to hurry inside. “You’re going to tell me where Henna is,” he said to the blinking Halfling.
“Uh, well, right, I guess,” he nodded.
Matthew waved to Dwyer. “I need six Forge Workers, big ones! And a wagon!” The foreman stared blankly at him in surprise. Matthew saw an empty wagon standing ready and leapt up, starting to climb into the driver’s seat. “We’re going after Henna!”
“Perhaps a word, Matthew?” Seward’s voice cut through the commotion of the yard like an executioner's axe. He stood arms folded, watching the unloading with barely a scale out of place.
“What do you want, Seward?” Matthew asked through clenched teeth.
“A little bit of sense, to start with,” his secretary replied smoothly. “You’re far too important to go running off on such a dangerous errand. Dwyer or anyone else can handle this, your place is here.”
Matthew refused to climb down however. “I have to make sure Henna’s okay!”
Seward tilted his head. Somehow, he managed to convey both looking down at Matthew while looking upwards at him. “And what good would you actually do by being there?” he asked. “Are you a fighter, can you cast spells? Are you armed? Leave this to the people who know what to do,” he advised.
“I’ll fight if I have to!” Matthew said stubbornly. He grabbed the reins. “Where are those Forge Workers!” he shouted to Dwyer.
Seward calmly walked in front of the horses, blocking the way. “Matthew, please be serious. I let you bring the Firstborn in because it could, perhaps, result in the return of some of our property, but this is going too far. Brining Henna back under this roof is completely–
“Our property!” Vaux yelled suddenly. “Oh, that’s rich!” The little Goblin appeared out of nowhere, clutching a ledger in his hands. He hopped in front of Seward, stamping and shouting. “Money lenders! Money lenders and thieves! That’s what you are!”
Seward stared at him, like he was some kind of rodent, or leftovers from an Imp. “What are you talking about?”
Vaux waved the ledger in his hands. “I’ve got the records right here! Everything that the Maierson’s have ever owned was stolen from its rightful owners!” He looked up at Matthew as well. “It’s all here, the worst your Family ever did!”
Matthew hopped down off the wagon. “What is he talking about?” he asked, coming over.
“Nothing!” Seward said, trying to snatch the ledger away. “That’s Maierson property he’s holding! Records stolen from our Vault!”
“Liberated!” the Goblin cried, dancing away. “We liberated it from your Vault, along with all your ill-gotten gains! Not to keep, not to keep, but to return!” He thrust the ledger into Matthew’s hands. “Look for yourself!”
“Give me that!” Seward snapped, his fangs clicking together, but Matthew was staring down at the book. It was an item ledger, something he’d grown very used to seeing while preparing for the Auction. This one though, was different. It showed item’s he’d never seen before, the contents of the Vault, he guessed, along with their original owners, and prices jotted down by them. He blinked and looked closer. No, they weren’t prices…
“Are these loans?” he asked. Seward straightened quickly, adjusting his tie.
“No, ermm, well, yes,” he stammered. “In that they were originally used as, um, collateral, you could say, for a number of payouts to concerned parties, that yes, could be categorized as loans of a sort.”
“How long has this been going on?” Matthew asked, stunned.
If a reptile could sweat, Seward would’ve been drenched. He swallowed, his eyes blinking rapidly. “It’s been a well established practice of your family to give out loans to needy individuals, when the funds were available for them of course.”
“At usurious rates!” Vaux added.
Maine stood on her tiptoes, trying to see the ledger’s contents. “And people donated their things as collateral?”
“And that’s the cruel trick!” Vaux told them. “They don’t buy our treasures outright, no! They dangle them in front of us, claiming they’re only holding onto them, protecting them, and all the while we’re paying them for the privilege!” The little Goblin was almost in a fit, hopping up and down and shaking his fist at Seward. “How many ever made good on their loans!” he asked suddenly. “How many won their treasures back?”
Seward stared ahead, not answering.
“How many?” Matthew asked.
After a moment, the Naga answered. “A few,” he admitted.
“There’s nothing illegal about anything that was done,” he assured a stunned Matthew. “No one forced anyone to take these loans, and the payouts kept many families afloat, out of complete destitution. Your Grandmother was practically giving them away when she was younger, my father used to say–”
Matthew held his hand up quickly, trying to understand. “We were selling things that belonged to other people?”
“No, I’ve kept a strict track of all loans and payments, anything that was up for Auction was–” Seward tried to say, but Matthew was in a fury.
“Why is this the first that I’m hearing about this?” he demanded. He turned to Dwyer, to Kelphin, Doctor Paicus. “Did you know? Did you? Did you?” They all looked guiltily away . Matthew even turned to his sister, nearly shouting. “What about you? Ha! Of course you probably knew! Matthew’s the only one in the dark as usual” She stumbled back, not used to seeing this side of him.
“Since there were no more funds for loans, it didn’t seem relevant,” Seward tried to explain. “I was going to decide when to brief you on the matter once our financial troubles had passed.”
“Well you don’t need to worry about that anymore,” Matthew told him. “You’re fired.”
The yard went still. Everyone, Forge Workers, Doctor Paicus, even the injured Firstborn, were staring in shock. “Fired?” Seward said the word slowly, as if tasting it aloud. “Fired? You can’t fire me! You don’t have the authority–”
“I’m Matthew Maierson!” he shouted. “I’m the one with the name over the door! If I say you’re fired, then that’s all there is to it!”
Seward’s lips parted, his fangs poking out. For a horrible moment, Matthew thought he might leap at him, but instead the Naga took a deep breath, regaining his composure. “Yes, it is your name over the door,” he admitted, his voice dripping with venom. “And woe to your family that you’re the one who inherited it! You don’t know a single thing about magic, or business, or what it takes to keep an institution like Maierson’s running! You think we’re in trouble now? Just wait until you see what I’ve had to do, the choices that I’ve had to make. You’ll come crawling back then,” he promised. “You’ll be begging for me to take over.”
With that, he turned smartly, and walked out the yard. Matthew stared after him, chest heaving, then stomped towards the wagon, yelling impatiently for Thumbell and the workers. They climbed on and he cracked the whip, tearing out into the square. Maine stared after her brother, uncertainty filling her soul.