Tom felt a complex churn of emotions in his soul as he went to retrieve Diavla and Kervan. He couldn't help but find Varga exciting, now. He'd always known she was attractive, largely from her enthusiastic and cheerful personality, but also because she was very fit, and her red hair and green eyes were quite pretty. He'd have to be blind not to find her appealing, and he wasn't even sure that would do it.
He tried to remind himself why getting involved romantically with the elves under his protection was problematic, but Varga's nature worked against that. She was just so…obvious. If Varga wanted to have sex with him, it was because she wanted sex with him, not because she was trying to manipulate him. It was as if the thought of taking advantage would simply never occur to her, and if it did, it would be as a joke.
Of course, he was still technically in a position of life-and-death power over her, and all the elves. Yet, it seemed clear to Tom that the elves—aside from Eubexa—had figured out that Tom wasn't ever going to abuse them, threaten them, or give them orders they couldn't accept.
I'm taking their collars off basically whenever they're away from prying eyes. Gods, we're even leaving the city soon, and then they won't be wearing the collars at all. They might even rethink my role as leader of the group, since they all have better woodcraft than I do. I should follow their lead out there, in a lot of ways.
So, all the logical reasons why he should leave the elf women alone felt as if they were on shaky ground, to say the least. I worried in the beginning about becoming corrupted. Am I? Am I being evil, or just practical?
Then, there was Diavla. It wasn't fair to be interested in both of the women. He needed to choose, and he knew he would choose Diavla over Varga. Varga was very sexy, but Diavla was just as sexy and also amazing in a bunch of other ways. That made him feel guilty on Varga's behalf. Ugh! It's so confusing! This must be why most people stick to one husband or wife. Now I understand how complicated the plots get in the traveling performers' shows when one man tries to keep his two lovers from meeting.
Tom had to wonder about elven culture. He really didn't understand it, and it was important, if he wanted to woo Diavla. Elves seemed to have some very…odd… attitudes about sex. It would be hard to get details—Tom caught himself. No, actually, it wouldn't. Not any more. I can ask Eubexa for all sorts of details.
The thought intrigued Tom. I might be able to…to communicate clearly what I want, and find out what she wants, so there isn't any misunderstanding. It's still an act of faith, though…for both of us.
Diavla was obviously smarter and more subtle than Varga. Tom was pretty sure she was a fair bit smarter and more subtle than he was, too. She probably could manipulate him if she wanted to. Similarly, he guessed Diavla might worry about Tom taking advantage of their positions. He'd like to think he'd convinced her of his good intentions, but he knew how hard it was to quell doubts.
Besides, what if we had a fight?
I know what would happen. Even if we somehow hated each other's guts after, we are both mature enough to work together to get the elves to safety. That's more important, both to Diavla and to me. And, I think she knows that.
So…why am I still keeping my distance? Tom started to feel…hopeful, and cautioned himself against it. He looked for more problems. How could this go wrong? The most obvious way would be hard feelings between Varga and Diavla, or Varga and him, if he and Diavla became a couple.
Maybe, I should do the exact opposite of what those guys in the plays did? Instead of sneaking around, I could talk to both of them at once, with Eubexa there, and have everything out in the open? As soon as he thought of that, Tom felt better. That's how he knew he had found the right course of action.
That meeting might be horrible to get through, but it's better in the long run for everyone if there's no confusion.
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When he got to the Temple, Kervan looked bored and annoyed, and had several bandages on. Diavla seemed to have found her time in the Temple educational. She was smiling happily.
Despite Kervan's grumblings, Tom took a few minutes to pray at the altars of gods he didn't normally visit. He always felt skittish when addressing a god he hadn't spoken to before. After all, he didn't know their personality well, and might give offense despite his intentions. If I am failing a god, I can't know unless they tell me, though. So, I have to ask.
Tom noticed that Diavla was doing her thing to see…What was it? “Affinities”. That was it. She seemed very interested in watching him that way. Apparently, the possibility that Tom might have some tiny amount of magic intrigued her.
As they were leaving, Tom noticed Diavla putting a small book into her bag. “Diavla? You buy book?” The beautiful elf looked up at him in surprise, then shook her head.
“I no spend a gold, Tom. Five silver.”
“Five silver?” Tom raised his eyebrows. Five silver wouldn't even cover the cost of the materials to make such a thing, so, why…? Tom put it together. “Oh, that's prosel…prosa…preaching material. Book teach you gods,” he explained. Sometimes, I forget Western words, too, he thought wryly.
“Yes. I learn human gods,” Diavla explained. “I learn human magic.”
We've got a lot to learn about each other, Tom mused.
∘ ⛥ ⛯ ⛥ ∘
They walked back to the apartments without any trouble, and Tom gathered everyone but Eubexa for a trip to the baths. After they returned, everyone laid out their washed clothes to dry in their rooms. Tom took the opportunity to speak with Eubexa.
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“How are you holding up?” he asked.
“I have no complaints, Master. I am grateful for all you have done.”
Tom tried to guess what she might want or need, sensing that Eubexa was very reluctant to ask for anything. “We've been doing a lot of shopping. Have I forgotten anything that might help you, Eubexa?”
The veiled elf didn't move, and Tom schooled himself to patience. I hate that I can't see her expressions, but I guess that's no different from anyone else up close. Since she didn't respond right away with a denial, there was something, apparently.
“Master…I apologize, but I…really would appreciate extra servings of food.”
Tom blinked. “Of course! You're half-starved and you're recovering from healing spells, of course you need extra food! Have we not been bringing you enough?”
“No, Master. I mean—you have been bringing me extra, and it looks like a reasonable amount, and yet I keep having desperate cravings for even more.”
“Eubexa, I want you to eat until sated. If that means triple portions for you, that's not a problem. Is your body gaining strength, do you think?”
“I'm…not sure. It might be. The body sometimes does strange things when it grows close to death.”
Tom sighed. “Eubexa, I don't want you going hungry. Go ahead and ask for more helpings until you are actually full. Your body needs food to heal itself.”
“Thank you, Master.” Her head moved slightly. “Master, have you decided how you will transport the gold?”
“I was thinking of buying jewelry, and hoping to sell it for as much or more at our destination.”
Eubexa nodded. “I was wondering whether you wanted to buy some goods to sell. Become a merchant in truth.”
Tom paused. “You know…that's not a bad idea. What goods do you think would be valuable?”
“We are headed south?”
“Yes.”
“Then goods from the north…metals, gems, or…salt, Master! They always need salt for tanning in the woods. Oak Mill is much smaller than Rivermarch, and known more for forest production—oak, of course, but also hides. Also, and this sounds odd, I know, but—if there are exotic kinds of lumber for sale here, they might find buyers in Oak Mill. The people there will be used to working with wood, and having a different kind of wood from usual might be a big help in places.”
Tom tilted his head and considered. “We'd have to get another wagon, possibly more, depending…I like the salt idea. Salt is always valuable. I'll check the prices and see how much salt we can afford.” He grinned. “Thank you, Eubexa! I wasn't thrilled about gems since they are small and easy to steal. This could work.”
Tom stuck his head out of Eubexa's room. “Everyone? Can I talk to all of you for a minute? Ah…elves here, please?”
They gathered in a matter of moments. Tom had Eubexa explain her idea about buying salt with the rest of the gold, intending to sell it in Oak Mill. Once they had the idea, Diavla, Varga and Orvan all turned and looked at Kervan, who got a distant expression on his face, then recited some numbers.
The elves argued back and forth for a couple of minutes. Finally, Eubexa reported, “They all accept the idea, if it is workable. Diavla seems to feel that you will negotiate well.”
“Thank you, everyone. I want to go out and check prices, see how much I can get.” Tom considered a moment. “If you don't mind, I want to go alone, when buying. Bringing slaves along makes me look rich and they'll raise their prices.”
“Smart, Master.” Eubexa translated, and none of the elves objected.
“Great. I'll see if I can get some end-of-the-day bargains. I'll be back as soon as I can, then we'll go to the Floating Duck for dinner.”
Tom changed into his more ragged-looking clothes, and headed to the markets.
∘ ⛥ ⛯ ⛥ ∘
It turned out that salt in bulk was sold in bags of a standard weight. He found three merchants offering them. Tom engaged each merchant in conversation, looking for hints of opportunities.
Ivan Sellers had eighty bags of salt for sale and wanted eighty silver for each. He was happy to gossip at length about the other merchants.
“That Hakeem, oh, he makes my hands curl into fists, he does! Undercuts me on hemp every chance he gets!”
“How much?” Tom asked curiously.
“Hear this—when I sell for forty, Hakeem learns of it and sells for thirty-nine. Thirty-nine, can you believe that? A single silver difference, and people flock to him. It disgusts me.”
Tom commiserated with Ivan for a while, agreeing that such behavior was deplorable. “And what of salt? Does he do the same to you then?”
“Oh, I am sure that he would.”
“Hmm.” Tom leaned closer. “So if I were to tell Hakeem that you are charging only…seventy-five, do you think he would drop his price to seventy-four?”
“Seventy-four is what we buy the sacks for. But I wouldn't put it past him.”
“Hmmm. So if I got him to charge less than seventy-four, it would hurt him?”
Ivan stared at him a moment. “If you could do that, you would have my blessings.”
Tom grinned. “So, suppose I buy, say, twenty bags from you, at eighty, and then I go past Hakeem bragging about what a bargain I got…”
Ivan leaned closer as well, and lowered his voice. “It sounds good, but I doubt you can convince him that I sold at anything under seventy-five. And if you're not going to hurt Hakeem, I'd rather you just buy it all from me at eighty.”
“Fair enough. Let me see what I can do.” Tom gave him a wink and walked on.
The second merchant was Conroy Trader. He had thirty bags for sale, but wanted eighty-five for them.
“Why so much?” Tom asked. “The others are charging much less.”
Conroy sneered. “They can empty their inventories, then. Meanwhile, I will have the only supply for everyone else, and they will gladly pay me rather than do without.”
“Smart,” Tom observed. “It must sit around a long time, though. Isn't that expensive for you?”
“Eh, it is one less shelf to fill and empty every day.”
“Makes sense,” Tom agreed. “You must have the best prices in something else, though, to stay in business.”
“No one can sell lamp oil for less than me. Everyone needs lamp oil—everyone but those spoiled rich people with rock lights and pet spell casters to refill them.”
“That's a good product. How do you keep Hakeem from undercutting you?”
Conroy snorted. “He can try, if he wants to bankrupt himself. I have a contract with a good source and get a good price.”
“Nice. Contracts are good. I'm only trying to buy salt once, so, no special deals for me.” Tom made as if to go, but then leaned back in. “Oh, is there anything I could help you get?”
Conrad raised an eyebrow. “Ambitious?”
“Of course, but also…a new face.” Tom pointed at himself. “If there's anyone who doesn't want to sell to you, but might to a stranger…?”
“Jasmine,” Conrad said at once. “Hakeem has the only supplier locked up. He charges two and a half gold per bottle, can you believe it? And people pay it because they have to. If you could convince Hakeem to drop his ridiculous price, or get some another way, I would give you nine gold for four bottles.”
Tom nodded slowly. “I'll see what I can do.”
Hakeem Uburji was a short man with such an impressive set of teeth that he must have been blessed by a god. Unfortunately, he knew full well that Ivan charged eighty for a bag of salt, and wasn't willing to go below his starting price of seventy-nine. He also only had fifteen bags. Tom agreed to buy them all, and got a slight discount that way, making the total cost eleven gold and seventy-five silver.
Once they had shaken on the deal, Tom asked, “Is it going to inconvenience you, being sold out when others come looking?”
“Not at all, Mr. Walker.” Hakeem gave another wide smile. “I'm getting restocked tomorrow, anyway.”
“Oh, lucky,” Tom said mildly. He promised to return in the morning, with a wagon to pick up the salt and the gold to pay for it. He walked back to the apartments, mulling over what he had learned. He had an idea by the time he got back, but set it aside for the moment. It was time for a very important conversation.