Chowwick partook of the wine.

In his own words, "I’ll be fucked if I have to fight anyway. If I’ll be fucked in a fight, I might as well be drunk and fucked rather than sober and fucked!"

We sat in Cassius’s tent. The dickering was endlessly tedious. The man was so focused on the most minute of details. My attention span failed me time and again. I wasn’t raised for this. Father had never brought me into this world. I hadn’t the vaguest concept of trade or value, but I could tell the man was gunning for every scrap he could get from me. He was obsessively focused on the smallest details, while I was obsessively focused on concluding our business so that I could take Chowwick and my father’s body home to Boston.

It ignited an anxiety in me. I was the heir of Father’s empire. Whatever the wealth meant to me, it was the engine that generated the livelihood of thousands. Other outposts like Dodge existed, though none so vast. Across the lands, at that very moment, wagons trundled in the employ of my father. In every city, there were artisans and craftsmen whose sole function was to make products funneled into Father’s empire. There was a management team within the business, but I didn’t know where to start in contacting them.

Father had said that half our wealth had been destroyed with Dodge. The other half had been wagered on my becoming Sword. I had won the suit, so half our wealth at least remained. I would need to speak to Harold to unlock the details. I only hoped he knew the details.

Cassius droned on, and I did my best to listen. As I did so, I watched Chowwick. I feared he would collapse and die from some complication of his condition. The chains did indeed run through his legs, but he drank the wine and pinched the bottoms of the serving girls with armored hands that could be so gentle. With each cup, he seemed to suffer less and less pain.

I worried how Baltazar would react when I returned. The Falling loomed closer, and Boston needed her Griidlords to be able to enter the field and compete for the orbs. He had entrusted me with a vital asset, and I was returning that asset grievously wounded—maybe irreparably so.

I suddenly snapped to attention. Cassius was listing numbers that were meaningless to me. He paused as he saw my head snap up and fixed me with those cunning little eyes, curious.

I said, “You could probably do away with us now.”

He was flustered by this. Rising in his seat, he said, “I beg your pardon?”

I said, “Lord Chowwick is badly wounded. I am diminished by my own injury. I am only a rookie. Tacita could dispatch me in this state, she could probably do it in any state…”

I watched Tacita’s reaction. She showed doubt. She had been impressed by my performance against the Hordesmen. Everyone had been.

I went on, “If you put me and Chowwick down, then your forces would easily overwhelm mine, with Tacita to supplement them.”

Cassius’s head rattled on his thick neck. He was stunned, processing. “I… I… what’s the point in saying such things?”

I said, "Why haven’t you done so?"

Cassius’s face darkened, shifting from soft pink to scarlet. He said, "We’re not savages… We’re not here for murder. This is business."

I asked, "What is your business, good sir?"

Cassius gathered himself and said, "I’m a merchant. I have my own network—nothing so grand as your father’s—but it grows year by year."

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"And what brought you here? To loot Dodge?" I pressed.

He replied sharply, "To salvage! To salvage from Dodge! If it wasn’t me, then it would be someone else. It was fair game. We’re not looters. There is much value here, as well you know. We came to get our share of it before the others closed in."

"How is it you brought a Griidlord?" I asked.

Cassius seemed confused. His beady eyes widened as he tried to grasp my intention. "I requisitioned her."

"Requisitioned? I don’t understand," I said.

Cassius waved a hand in frustration. "You people have your own ways—chaotic and undisciplined though they may be. In the West, our suits aren’t lords, they’re agents, and they understand that they’re agents. They get their commissions, as yours do. If we failed to give them that, any of them worth a lick of salt would just leave and join your decadent societies. In the West, we have order, organization. Tacita works for the Empire. She is a servant of the Empire. When I heard that the Horde had destroyed Dodge, I applied for a license to salvage what could be found here and requisitioned Tacita in the process."

I nodded, then said, "You’re very focused on the precise details of our agreement."

My sudden change of direction flustered him further. "Well, of course I am… I… I have my own contract with the Empire to fulfill. It’s my duty to... Of course I’m focused on the details. You would serve your business better if you were more focused yourself."

Leaning forward, I asked, "But wouldn’t it serve your business even better to assassinate me and Lord Chowwick right now?"

Cassius recoiled. His face turned from scarlet to purple. "How very dare you! I could do no such thing! We are dickering! That’s… It’s…"

I began to understand this man better. I had mistaken his obvious greed for a lack of honor. I had thought him a vicious little creature that would do anything for profit, but that would have included killing me. No, this man had his own strange sense of honor. He would certainly do anything for profit—but within the constraints of what he considered fair business. That was why he obsessed over the details and the numbers. He felt bound by the rules once he agreed to them.

"I have an entirely different proposition," I said.

Cassius grew calmer then, recognizing familiar territory. "Go on."

"I don’t know the way of the trader. I was raised in the way of the sword and nothing else. I want to see Dodge restored. Is that a foolish notion?"

Cassius considered this. "Well, no, no it’s not. It will take some time and investment, but the damage here is not as complete as it might seem. The infrastructure is intact—the sewage systems, most of the walls. Many of the structures just need repair. Those that are ruined still have good foundations. There are a lot of materials already on site. The trade routes are well established here."

I said, "How long do you think it would take for Dodge to start making money again?"

Father had felt that all was lost here. There had certainly been terrible damage. Fortunes in goods had been taken by the Horde, and fortunes in damage had been done. But Father had been looking at the damage to Dodge through the lens of a man who had bet everything he owned and lost it. I hadn’t lost. We had resources.

Cassius was slow in responding. His eyes glazed as he considered. "Months, maybe, with sufficient investment…"

I said, "I have a proposition."

He said, "Yes, you said as much…"

I continued, "Instead of taking what you can from the wreckage and paying me a portion of its worth… why not take a part of Dodge itself?"

His eyes narrowed, and he said nothing.

I explained, "I am a Griidlord now. I will have my own distractions. And, I know nothing of business. What if I gave you a stake?"

Cassius leaned forward, "A stake?"

"Yeah," I said. "I give you a piece of the profits from Dodge. You rebuild it, you run it, you get a share."

Cassius smiled thinly. "That is quite the proposition…"

"I need to be back in Boston, Lord Chowwick needs attention, and the city here needs a manager…"

Cassius nodded. "I would be most interested in the proposition… but…"

There was silence in the room, even Chowwick seemed to have found something to distract him from the bottoms of the poor serving girls.

It was Cassius’s turn to lean forward. His eyes narrowed, his lips pursed. He looked eager, excited even. "We would need to dicker about the details of such an arrangement."