Novels2Search

B2.23 - Lay of the Land

I did my part, even when I was not there.

Memoirs of Catherine Rocastle, Metal Master

“Hmmm,” Johanna said, savoring the syrupy dessert.

“That sounds a mite too good,” Laura replied.

“Let me finish this, and I’ll get back to you,” Johanna said.

The West Gate Inn had a menu with multiple choices, but even if its tariff was reasonable, the results were worthy of premium prices. Johanna reluctantly put aside the now-empty cup that had fruits topped by what felt like sugar in pure liquid form, sweeter than anything she’d ever tasted, and settled back for more serious things.

“Peter?”

“Did not expect that. Becoming a citizen of the State requires residence, and either a purchased home or one year of rental, past or future.”

“What?” she was surprised.

“It’s a provision against transients. People who don’t stay in the state for long. So we have to show we’re staying for at least a full year. Or at least willing to.”

She grimaced.

“Going to be tight for money.”

“Last alternative: you stay with family – or friends – who put in writing a guarantee that you’re staying for at least a year. With apparently a big fine for them if they lied, even unknowingly.”

“Not much of a help.”

She mentally added a note under “potential problems”.

“Did a tour of the market. Turns out there are multiple markets in town, it’s so big. Cloth is pretty big around here, there are entire areas devoted to making – and exporting – pre-tailored stuff,” Petra noted.

“Anything notable?”

“It doesn’t look like there’s much of a market for Ancient things. At least nobody I talked to seemed to know about that. Doesn’t seem there is a store for that too.”

“Like Zahl, then.”

“That’s what I get. Spotted two signs of Artifacts while wandering around the city.”

“Same for me. Probably the same ones.”

Johanna then reported on her errands.

“Tom and I went around shopping for gossip. The guard is right, most of the central states haven’t seen much in the way of Changed beasts for decades. Outside of some of the truly major Ancient cities areas, there are very few areas where it looks like a strong mana zone.”

“Ruins been looted already too,” Tom added.

“That too. Most of the looting occurred early, like in the Dakota. The ruins were never hazardous, it seems.”

“So, what’s the next step?” Peter asked.

“I will pursue a lead to something tomorrow first thing,” Johanna said, pulling up an old paper.

Maritin’s Tradecrafts was the correct name, based on Johanna’s list. Joel Maritin, a second cousin of Catherine Rocastle, should be the owner. At least, this was what Johanna hoped to find. She pushed the doorway, a small bell hanging over it ringing to announce a visitor.

Despite the bell, no one came to see and she quickly realized why, as there were dozens of customers inside the large store. She looked around, not interested in the merchandise. Mostly workman clothes, she realized quickly. She spotted the counter where a store employee was discussing with one of the customers and went straight there. She waited until the transaction was complete.

“Can I help you, miss?”

“Yes. I’ve been given the name of Joel Maritin. Is he still the owner?”

“Yes, he is. May I inquire why?”

“His cousin, Catherine… Catherine Rocastle said I could contact him if I was in Nedalshe. Is he around?”

This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

“Rocastle?”

“Yes. Cousin of his.”

“I don’t know…”

“Just tell him about that, please,” Johanna insisted.

The clerk looked dubious and was unwilling to abandon his station at the counter. He finally managed to flag another employee and sent him on the errand instead. As the young man – boy? – left, Johanna settled in to wait.

It took almost half an hour before an older man stepped out of the closed section of the store, was pointed to her, and came to shake her hand.

“You say you’re from Catherine Carlin… sorry, Rocastle?”

“Yes.”

“So, how is she? Been a while since I heard from her, up in the northwest. Her husband went missing, I think.”

“Oh, yes. David?”

“So… what brings you here? No, let’s go to my office. Better to talk news from the Northwest than here.”

The business must be good given the posh office that Joel Maritin seemed to enjoy, Johanna noted. She sank into the comfortable padded chair.

“So, how does Catherine go? The last time I saw her, she was just married to that David Rocastle. She went to her husband’s domains after. That was… seventeen years ago? More?”

“She’s good. Her husband went on some expedition, and never came back, and she’s no idea what happened. Still hopes he’ll come back one day,” Johanna replied.

“Kids? I heard about kids.”

“Two. A daughter, Casey, fifteen, and a boy, Donald, twelve.”

Joel smiled.

“Sounds like she did well, even if it sucks her husband’s gone missing.”

“Everyone says she’s good at managing the Rocastle Demesnes.”

“So you know her from there? You’re from the Marches up north?”

“We met her last fall, yes. And she gave me your name.”

“Ah. We don’t hire currently, although…”

Johanna realized that, with her obvious young age, he might be thinking she was looking for a job to settle in Nedalshe.

“Ah, no. We… we did her a favor, and she did us one in turn.”

“We?”

“Me, my husband, and a couple of friends.”

“Ah. So you’re not looking for a job here then?”

“No. We are Ancient ruins salvagers” – it sounded better than scavengers – “and pretty good at that. It’s irregular, but it pays well depending on what you find and the market.”

“So, if you’re not looking for a job, why did she direct you to my humble offices? As you can guess from the store, I’m probably not the best person to seek to sell salvaged things. You seemed to imply that’s what you intend to do, right?”

“Are the prospects good around Nedalshe?”

“Not much. The smaller ruins around have been thoroughly looted – sorry, salvaged – very early, and even the large ruins were exploited for much of the century after the Fall. There was never a lack of people, well, like you, in those days. Nobody’s been doing much of that around for decades. I’m sorry if that’s what you’re looking for.”

“No biggie. We’ve just arrived from the Marches of the Dakota. But Catherine gave me your name because you would know those things better than us.”

Joel smiled and nodded.

“So how can I help you?”

“We’ve got long-term plans and short-term ones. The short term is that we’re looking to recruit good and dependable people for a salvage expedition.”

“There is never a shortage of people ready to work for good pay.”

“That’s a problem. We’re good at salvage work, but we don’t have that much capital. At least yet.”

She immediately raised her hand, stalling the expected question.

“And that’s not what I’m looking for, don’t worry.”

“So?” Joel inquired.

“We’re looking for people who are experienced in salvage expeditions, and maybe willing to work on commission from results.”

Joel tapped his index on the wood of his desk.

“Not much prospect of that here, I’m thinking.”

“I guessed so from your answer,” Johanna replied.

“Most of Independence State is like here. The central states were a lot less impacted by the Fall than the rest – relatively speaking, it’s said that more than 90% of the Ancients still died in the first five years – and thus salvage was always easy… and already done. You’d have more success in the north or the south.”

“Not the east? I would have thought the east coast would be good.”

“The no-man’s-land of the east coast is said to be bad for salvaging. Too risky for the potential of stuff, I guess.”

Johanna sighed.

“Well, that’s good to know. So where would we go to find regular salvagers?”

“I’d say… your best chance if you want experienced salvagers is the northeast. Places like New Sandusky, which were recolonized only late last century, after the Wars of Unification. That’s not too far from the Lake Marches, and most of that area around the Great Lakes is still wilderness.”

“Sounds interesting.”

“Commercial roads to the main markets I imagine for Ancient goods. That’d be Vernon, the State Capital, or Nashville, the Union Capital. There’s a distant relative that has a specialty business for fish-based products in addition to wool clothing up there, I can probably write you a letter?”

Johanna fished her list.

“New Sandusky? That’s Myriam Carlin?”

“The one and same. Did Catherine…”

“She gave us the biggest list she could whip up from memory, in case we needed a local contact anywhere we arrived.”

Joel whistled.

“Must be a hell of a favor, then.”

“An introduction will help, though.”

She stood at the entrance to the store, effusively thanking Joel Maritin.

“Don’t mention it. And I’ll write to Catherine, to tell her you came by.”

“Ah. Well, tell her we hope the gifts have been useful.”

“Gifts?”

“The ones we gave her.”

“Ah.”

Attn: Catherine, Countess Rocastle

I am deeply honored that you remember a distant cousin from up there in the northwest. I would be even more honored if I did not need you to send me some weird young woman to learn more about your two kids. I hope that your eldest takes about her mother.

What’s this about gifts? They must be pretty interesting if you give her a full list of the family. If it was one, I’d have guessed an Artifact of sorts, since you were always jealous of grand-uncle Nathan’s adventures, and she’s a salvager. But she mentioned multiple gifts.

You should think more of the family. Not everyone can marry into landed families, and we do have to work honestly.

Sincerely,

Joel, your cousin