12 Tagsibol, 891 ED

Oraw, 7:13

Port Shiinor, Empire of Tyrman

My conversation with Stormsong was brief but satisfactory. He told me that he wasn’t under any suspicion with the Wild Mages. In fact, he wasn’t anything with the Wild Mages. He’d traveled to Stormbreak Harbor, found my gold, and was halfway through his own voyage to the continent of Milagre.

“But you left quite a bit more than I’d expected,” he’d told me, grinning and shaking his head in mock weary. “The fare to get here only cost me twelve gold.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I’d replied, uncomfortable as ever when the topic of money and debts owed came up. “The extra is for helping us escape.”

“Nonsense. I’m getting you back. Oh, I know. The sailors keep telling me about this restaurant in Milagre that’s supposed to have the best food in the world. I’ll take you there once we’re both in Milagre.”

I’d almost laughed at that. I knew he was talking about Mandra at the Heron Tavern, of course. She was one of my most well-known characters. “Alright, Stormsong. A dinner on you is fine with me.”

-

As for the question of which route to take to Milagre, Gogo and I found an answer to our question more quickly than expected. While discussing it in more detail over drinks and a meal, three traders had approached us from out of the crowd.

“Did we hear you correctly?” He asked, his thick German accent telling me he was from Welsik. “You are planning on crossing the plains, yes?”

“Yes,” I replied, though I was hesitant to reveal any more. They were dressed like traders, but they could have been bandits or thieves. “What is it to you?”

In answer, he’d twitched aside the thick traveling cloak he was wearing to reveal a rather large pouch of coins. “We would prefer to get there as quickly as possible. Would you two consent to working as guards for the trip?”

I spared a glance toward Gogo, who gave me an uncaring shrug. I could tell that he was leaving the choice up to me. So I turned back to the traders. “How much are you offering?”

“Four royals,” he replied at once. Then, casting a quick glance at Gogo, he added, “Each.”

I shook my head immediately. Having written a few different missions of this nature, I knew that was far below the going rate. In addition, he was offering to pay me in golden Welsik royal coins, which weren’t worth nearly as much in Tyrman. “Not enough.”

“We have no more than that,” the trader replied. “But we are willing to sign a contract for more.”

“How can you pay more than you have right now?” I asked, glancing behind him to his two companions who, so far, had not spoken a word. “Unless your friends can make up the difference.”

“We have a line of credit with the Trader’s Guild,” the merchant explained. “When we deliver our shipment, we will be paid, and I can pay you.”

Again, I gave Gogo a sidelong glance to see if their opinion had changed. If anything, they seemed more bored with the discussion now. They gave me another shrug. “Up to you.”

“One extra condition,” I said. “Any beast we kill on the trip is ours. Magical or otherwise.”

A quick flash of annoyance appeared on the Welsik’s face, but he nodded. “Deal.”

We shook on it then, and the traders returned to their table, after telling us that they’d leave early the next morning. “How about that? We have a way to make a little extra coin on our way.”

A third shrug. “I don’t care about money.”

“Not even for a better spear?” I asked, glancing at the wrapped weapon. The head of it was chipped and in poor repair, and there were giant chunks taken out of it where he’d used it to block swords in the past. “Or at least to repair the one you have now.”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

“I do not care for shiny things.”

I took my time replying to that assertion, staring pointedly at the red coat he wore. It was a fine thing, and he took better care of it than he did his weapons. Each night when we’d gone to rest, he’d made sure to clean it of the day’s filth with a focused, almost loving expression.

“Hard to believe that when I see your coat,” I said. “Just by looking, I can tell that’s worth more than anything I own.”

He turned the thick collar of the coat up to hide most of his face, ignoring my comment. Only after a few seconds of silence did he reply. “It was a gift from a friend, shortly before she died. I love it, but I need no more.”

“Shame,” I said. “Because Milagre is supposed to have some of the best fashion in the world. They fancy long coats like that, and you could pick up some clothes to match it.”

I caught the quick stiffening of his body as he heard that, and the half glance in my direction. “They do?”

“Of course,” I replied, nodding to add emphasis to my words. “They’re very fashionable people. I’d wager you’d even find something finer.”

“Well,” Gogo said, pretending, and failing, to sound disinterested, “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to see what you’re talking about. A true traveler should experience all things, after all.”

“True words have never been spoken,” I agreed, but I made sure to take a long draft of my drink, hiding the grin. I’d known that Gogo was the glamorous type at our first meeting. Nobody wore a coat that fine without a liking for the finer things in life. Truth be told I was a kindred spirit, but I could tell that his fascination was even stronger than mine.

The beds above the tavern were comfortable enough, and cleaner than the cots in a cargo ship. But I couldn’t manage to sleep well that night. Judging by the tossing and turning I’d heard from the other side of the room, neither had Gogo. After two weeks on or under the deck of a constantly rocking ship, the solid ground felt uncomfortable. More than once, I felt as if the ground was still rolling under my feet. It made me slightly queasy and ruined any hope for a good night’s sleep.

The next morning, bleary-eyed and exhausted, we’d made our way into the taproom. The traders were already there eating their breakfast. They looked a little better rested, but not by much. I gathered that they had also recently come off a ship, and were still under the effect of the “land wobbles”, as the most experienced sailors called it.

“Is everything ready?” I asked the men, once I’d taken a healthy swig of black coffee that the barmaid had given me. “Or do you need time to prepare?”

“We are prepared,” the Welsik man said. His companions, as usual, didn’t speak. I watched them curiously out of the corner of my eye when I thought it was safe to. They didn’t look like any Welsiks I knew. They were broad in the chest, and even I could tell that they were exceptionally well-muscled. Sitting silently on either side of the trader, they had the appearance of hired guards. Meant to intimidate others into doing what their companion wanted. If he had those two, what did he need us for? After all, their cloaks did nothing to hide their broad chests and muscles.

“These are Anko and Liber,” the trader said. “They are warriors from Kimande.”

That drew my interest at once. The men were almost identical, meaning that they had to at least be brothers. Being from Kimande, they would have been raised as plains warriors. It made sense that a traveling merchant would hire accomplished warriors like that.

“Pleased to meet you, Anko and Liber,” I said, nodding my head in welcome. They nodded in reply but still didn’t speak. Men of few words, I thought. “Because we never got around to introductions, I’m Tuck. This is my friend Gogo.”

“That’s a peculiar name,” the trader said. “I am Reiner Larsson.”

Larson? That name was oddly familiar to me. I was certain I’d designed a character recently with that name. I brushed it to the back of my mind for future thought. “What are you transporting? How big is your wagon?”

“We do not have a wagon,” Reiner replied. When he spotted my frown of confusion, he added, “It is a payment that we are transporting.”

Even Gogo seemed vaguely interested now. He leaned forward, frowning deeply. “Why didn’t you just use Everyone to deposit the gold?”

Everyone, or to use their full name, The Unsecret Market of Everyone, was a massive network of traders and bankers that stretched across the majority of Ahya. It was led by a single woman who’d built it from the ground up. They were everywhere now, even in the depths of Attos, where no citizen that didn’t directly contribute to the army was allowed to live.

“I, err, am in a bad place with that organization,” Reiner said. I noticed that he wouldn’t meet our eyes as he answered. “Rather, I represent the interest of one who does not align with Everyone.”

Which told me that he was a trader sponsored by the Emirate. They were Everyone’s biggest rival, even if their influence only spread across one continent. They were still a monolithic organization, though their leaders were wrapped in so much mystery and shadow that nobody even knew what city in which they were based. But each public leader said to be backed by them was one of incredible wealth.

I also knew, because I’d created them, that the Emirate was an incredibly secretive organization. Even the traders that interacted with them were sworn to secrecy. Often, they were cursed with a brand-like rune that would harm them if they revealed their secret. As I had no desire to inflict any misfortune on the man, I didn’t bother to question him.

“Very well,” I said, giving Gogo a quiet glance to warn him away from asking anything else. “That just means that we’ll travel that much faster.”

Reiner nodded his understanding. “I discussed your fee with my colleagues last night, and I believe that a fee of sixty gold royals would be fair.”

I nodded my head in agreement. It was more than fair, actually, and the coins were exchanged one-for-one with the standard currency that the entire world relied on. None of that nonsense of the real world where different countries’ currencies were worth less than others. That was a point I’d been firm on.

“Sounds good,” I told him. “Shall we get on the road then?”