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Fabulosa’s return ushered in a new wave of projects—one of which began a new sewing circle. Tara and Nessa, from Maggie Hornbuster’s quarry crew, sketched clothing patterns and passed the time chatting. They enjoyed designing outfits, and as the dwarves filled into their normal weights, our new tailors took measurements.
While Yula waited for her canoe’s sealant to dry, she joined them and worked on a new set of leather armor. Our four new citizens from Grayton completed the circle, sewing together pillows and sheets with material from Grayton.
Fabulosa had splurged on several commodities, and textiles numbered among them. She purchased dozens of bolts of material, including pragmatic grays, browns, and greens, as well as colors for accents. Mrs. Berling organized the linen while Nessa and Tara brought their favorite sketches to life.
Charitybelle and Greenie spent the day with Oscar and Glenn, whose due diligence included auditing Hawkhurst to ensure we weren’t hiding risks or problems. The strange courtship culminated in preliminary negotiations. There wasn’t much we could show them—Hawkhurst wasn’t sprawling or complicated. We only needed to forge a relationship at the bargaining table.
We invited them to sit down at the after-dinner officers’ meeting when everyone brought each other up to speed. Oscar, Glenn, and the Sternways joined us.
When everyone quieted, Charitybelle kicked off a meeting by having me recite a status report. She could have given it herself, but she wanted me to take a more prominent role in the camp’s leadership.
I tried to speak loudly, but it felt awkward. “We stabilized the camp’s morale—which means the work crew’s efficiency is up. Fab’s return improved several factors, but the most important is security. She’s proven we’re not completely out of contact with the outside world.”
Ally raised an index finger. “Aye, and with high spirits, we pounded out a barn today. The torodon carts will keep dry, our tools won’t rust, and the animals are cozy.”
“I want to build a motte and bailey next, even before a town hall. With a security rating of only 60 percent, our biggest risks include vargs, goblins, and kobolds.
Charitybelle turned to me. “That’s quite a project. Are you sure you don’t want to build another roundhouse? If we’re soliciting newcomers, we’ll need room. We’re cramped already.”
“True. But our five business guests are only visiting, and the Dark Room can handle the overflow. Besides, a fort remains the only major structure not using stone.”
At the mention of masonry, Ally sighed. “Maggie and her lasses are walloping the rock for all their worth. It’s a shan state when dwarves can’t work granite. Even Rory couldn’t make headway with the hammers Fab brought from Grayton.”
Fabulosa shrugged it off.
Having given the building update, I sat down and finished with one last reassurance. “At least a motte and bailey would give us more time to find another quarry. We’re not up for fighting trogs yet—so hauling stone from the goblin mine is out. The next closest prospect lies near kobold territory. Would you agree, Ally?”
“Aye, by the looks of it. It might crawl with ratfolk, but it could work if we break camp before nightfall. Your Dark Room may protect a quarry team. The torodon carts can haul anything larger than bricks or yockers. Gads—but it would be a rough go, but it’s possible.”
“Kobold attack at deenner, not bedtime. When sun goes behind mountain—kobold comes out.”
Charitybelle shook her head. “Which means we’ll only be able to work until afternoon. We can’t harvest resources for a town that way. Maybe we could find rock midway to Basilborough. We’ll need an outpost eventually for the caravans.”
Ally grimaced in an apology. “Outposts are tier 3 buildings.”
Lloyd chimed in. “I can draft a ferry stout enough to carry rock. We’ll need big cranes on either side of the river, anyway. Perhaps a potential quarry site rests across the Orga.”
Fabulosa’s face lit up. “What about Flatrock Island?”
Ally raised her hand to stave off other arguments. “Sorry, lass. Shipyards are also tier 3 buildings.”
Charitybelle waved away the issue. “That’s fine. Let’s call these options Plan B and C. We’ll build defenses and worry about getting stone later.” She looked at Ally. “How is the idol coming?”
Ally looked crestfallen. “Same story, Guv. It’s stone, so carving it has nearly knackered me out. But I’m close to finishing her.”
The good news mollified Charitybelle, who nodded with encouragement.
Iris turned to Yula. “Would you be willing to ferry Fletcher and me across the river? We’ll keep an eye open for stone, but first, we want to verify a trip to Fort Krek is possible.”
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Iris touched on the last hurdle Hawkhurst would need to clear to establish a trade route. While Chloe’s aerial survey showed favorable terrain, it couldn’t substitute walking the path and seeing things at ground level.
Everyone looked at Yula to hear the status of her canoe.
Yula nodded. “Eet feenish tomorrow. Yula can take you across Orga.”
The plan somewhat dismayed me, as I’d hoped to take part in its maiden voyage. “Do you think it would hold four people?”
Yula nodded.
Glenn folded his arms and leaned back. The gesture struck me as imperious. “I’ll wait here until I hear from the Sternways about Fort Krek. You’ll need to deliver a fair report for me to recommend this route to the wainwrights.”
I could have pointed out that Glenn wasn’t doing us any favors. The guild sent him here out of self-interest. Seeing no need to increase friction, I kept my mouth shut.
“At this point, we should discuss formal agreements. What exactly is the guild’s proposal?” Greenie’s word choice reminded Glenn he wasn’t pulling the strings—he only acted at the behest of the wainwrights. At best, he served as a spokesperson.
Glenn magnanimously held up his hands. “I’m afraid I can’t promise anything until….”
Greenie finished Glenn’s sentence. “…Until we know Fort Krek is within reach. Assuming the route is viable—what are the guild’s intentions?”
“We are a cartel of transportation wagons for cargo and passengers throughout the greater Grayton area and, to most extents, the western continent. We have the means to provide security for the route from Basilborough to Hawkhurst. If Fort Krek can repel raids across the river, your only contribution involves ferrying wagons across the Orga.” He looked at Yula to affirm the orcish name for the river. “Since the wainwrights offer to cover operational expenses, you’ll only need seed money. I can extend loans to Hawkhurst. The amount of traffic will grow your settlement to a respectable size.”
I didn’t appreciate the innuendo that we weren’t yet respectable, but Greenie hadn’t let on that we had enough gold to cover any expense, so I didn’t contradict him. Until I understood the subtleties of negotiation, it made sense to keep my mouth shut.
Glenn continued. “Traffic from our wagons brings income from inns, pubs, and markets. You’ll be large enough to reimburse what you owe us in a very short time.” He seemed pleased to grace us with such generosity.
Oscar jumped in. “I am also inclined to wait for news of the Sternways’ journey to Fort Krek. I know several businesses interested in expanding to Hawkhurst if it becomes a gateway to the East. Mostly spice traders and salt merchants. If your scouts return with favorable news, I will become very busy and would like to return to Basilborough as quickly as possible.”
Greenie gestured to Glenn. “You say the only thing Hawkhurst needs to do is ferry ‘your’ wagons. Are you petitioning for exclusivity?”
Glenn stiffened at the implication that his role involved petitioning us for anything. He’d rather dictate or grant things—not plead or bargain. “But of course. Armed escorts and patrols are expensive. If we provide security from goblins and kobolds, it would be foolish to clear the way for our competitors.”
Greenie rubbed his chin. “And what is the guild’s position on paying ferry tolls?”
“My guild offers security for no cost. I think it is only fair the ferries are free.”
Charitybelle interjected. “Hawkhurst will need to receive something to maintain operations. After all, merchants will pay the guild for escorts. You’re not doing this out of the kindness of your hearts.”
Greenie shot her a subtle look—something she said bothered the goblin.
Glenn hadn’t noticed the goblin’s expression. Instead, he directed his attention to Charitybelle. “We could cover your ferry’s operational costs. There’s plenty of profit in the bargain for you. Hawkhurst will grow like a torodon calf with the traffic we can provide. We’re not open to paying duties of any kind. The whole spirit of a land route is to eschew Arlington’s tolls.”
Charitybelle nodded. “That is true. The incentive for risking an overland route is savings.”
Glenn extended his hand. “Do we have an agreeance?”
Greenie cut in before Charitybelle returned the gesture. “We agree that is a reasonable request, and you’ve given the governor a great deal to consider. Let’s revisit our discussion after the Sternways give us their report. You, of all people, wouldn’t put the cart before the horse.”
Glenn leaned back and slapped the table. “Hah! The goblin is quite right. Ours is a conditional offer. There’s no point in getting ahead of ourselves. We’ll table this until we see Fort Krek is a viable route.”
It seemed unlike Greenie to be abrupt, so we took his cue and adjourned the meeting.
After our guests retired to the Dark Room, we began the after-meeting—outside of earshot of the transdimensional sleeping quarters. Charitybelle and I grew keen to know why Greenie ended the conversation, because Glenn’s proposal seemed fair.
Greenie began. “The Grayton wainwrights are the area’s largest purveyor of wagons, but they’re not the only guild on the continent. Denial of ferry access to guilds from Belden, Basilborough, and those from the East would threaten their existence. Antagonizing our neighbors might not be the wisest course.
“Second, exclusivity puts all the power into the hands of the guild. They can charge merchants whatever they want for protection, giving them a powerful bargaining position.
“Lastly, the core of Glenn Grene’s proposal builds a trap. A militia protecting the passage would be loyal to those holding its purse strings—the Grayton guild. The more protection money the guild invests, the weaker Hawkhurst becomes. The result of such an agreement will see us vying for our land with an entrenched foreign force.”
After digesting the logic, I leaned back. “I had no idea your ears were so attuned to deviousness.”
“One might call it a family tradition.”
Charitybelle looked despondent after she processed Greenie’s assessment. “If we turned away wagons from the nearest towns, we’d have no close allies.”
Greenie nodded, and we fell silent.
Charitybelle broke the lull with a decision. “Thank you, Greenie, for saving us from that. We shouldn’t do anything until Fletcher and Iris return from Fort Krek.”
I tried to lighten the mood. “I bet Glenn wants the Sternways to return fast so he can get out of here.”
Charitybelle gave my comment more consideration than I intended. “I can’t blame Glenn for that. He has nothing to do out here. His only job involves securing a deal. If we reject his offer now, he’ll be insufferable. Let’s wait until we get back to civilization to make a counterproposal.”
Greenie stood. “I believe that is the wisest course of action. The Grayton guild stands to gain much if the route to Fort Krek is clear. Protecting caravans already falls within their interest—we don’t need to grant them exclusivity.”
Charitybelle stood up and lightly patted Greenie on the shoulder. “You’re right. It’s a given Grayton will want our business. They have to trade with us. If they ignore us, a Basilborough operation might become more influential.”
Greenie nodded in approval. He and Charitybelle talked about Oscar’s business contacts, but I wasn’t as interested in the commercial implications. Hawkhurst’s place on the world stage looked promising as long as we weren’t beholden to monopolies or other cities.
I worried more about our feral neighbors.