Theordis was greatly enjoying his dinner. Nothing added to the flavor of food like the glow of victory. And everyone at the table knew who had been victorious and who got put in his place.

Geoffrey was still fidgeting in his chair and drinking his wine in gulps, upset over the timing. He'd been so close to closing such a lucrative deal. This would have made up for his failures to convince some of the friendlier corporations that they needed Imperial Storehouses. Alchemarx and Soylent had laughed at the idea and sent him on his way. Taking over the system in Sedgewick would have given him all the income he needed to live comfortably. Now he was sidelined in the discussions, hoping Theordis could throw him some crumbs.

It was a different story for Manfred. He was trying to anticipate the Baron's next move. Making Sedgewick pay for the workers living in Sedgewick was a valid move, but only if the village could pay, which he was going to make sure it couldn't. He was using the tax situation to squeeze out the mayor and get rid of her, but he would still have to pay the taxes. This was an Imperial Tax that any of the Dukes could impose as needed. And as far as he knew, the suggestion to use it had been brought before all of the Dukes simultaneously and was being implemented immediately. Few corporations had allowed their workers to ascend to Tier 2, keeping them in the lower levels the way a good landowner kept down his peasants. The ones who had been lax would pay the price, and none more than Baron William of Gadobhra. It was the uncertainty that bothered Manfred. He couldn't collect his bonuses if the Baron didn't give in. And if he did roll over to Theordis's blackmail, Manfred owed him a cut of his prize and quite a bit of bowing and scraping. It was going to be hell dealing with the pompous jackass for months. With an inner sigh, he poured more wine for the three of them and listened again to Theordis recounting how he had handled the Baron and put him in his place.

As the senior taxman continued his story, the door to the inn opened, and three people entered. The first was a woman of striking features. Bright eyes were set in a tanned face with a strong jaw and a mouth that smiled more than it frowned. Her curled hair spilled out from an ornate captain's hat. Her outfit was completed with a blue and white coat, ruffled white tunic, and white breeches. She scanned the suddenly quiet room and held the door for her companions, waving them in with a flourish. Manfred could make out her name and title: Captain Mariah, Windrider.

The second person through the door was a giant of a man. He wore a black coat made of heavy leather. Sharkskin pants were tucked into worn boots. A red tunic and leather vest helped a bright red sash hold in his ample belly. It matched the color of the red bandana underneath a tri-corn hat with an assortment of feathers stuck into it. Curiously, his large hands were covered in heavy dragon-scale gauntlets. Captain Ozymandias, the Shipbreaker, stomped into the room, laughing hard at some joke, and took up a station on the other side of the door.

The third Captain to enter was the smallest, but something about him caught everyone's eye. He seemed to glow in the light of the candles, and his green eyes flicked around the room, noting everything. Tall boots made of supple leather came to just below his knees. His outfit was finely tailored in grey and black silk with a black broadcloth coat. Buttons, cufflinks, and even the buckles on his boots were gold. This was Captain Woodrat, The Baron of Cingo and Envoy of the Queens.

All three captains were resplendent in earrings and gemmed rings. Each wore a Splendid Ribbon commemorating some great victory. They strode into the inn as if it was a ship they commanded, and only after they nodded to the stunned crowd did people begin eating and talking again. The seating wasn't to the giants liking. He casually pushed heavy tables aside and put the largest in a spot of his preference with three chairs. The captains took their seats in reverse order to how they entered. Three hats were tossed across the room to land on the antlers of a stag's head, and they relaxed in their chairs.

The innkeeper was there immediately to greet them. "Welcome to my humble establishment, Captains. How can my family and I best serve you?"

"Rum."

"Lots of rum, and I smell something meaty cooking; bring good portions of that."

"And anything else tasty? Let's try it all, and we'll sort out what we like."

"You have pudding? I've always wanted to try pudding."

The woman held a small jewel from her pocket to the light. The deep red gem glowed with inner fires. The candles and lamps suddenly gave more light, and the fire in the hearth roared and doubled in size. "Payment for your services, good innkeeper." He gingerly took the gem, bowed, and raced into the kitchen to prepare their meals. Tankards of rum were brought first; then, an entire keg was set on a nearby table. A boy of twelve stood there, listening to their stories and refilling their tankards with rum when asked. The largest captain handed him a handful of gold. "For you, lad. You owe one piece to your father and one piece to your mother. The rest is yours to spend wisely or foolishly."

At the sight of the gem, Theordis had felt his jaw drop open. He closed his mouth and turned to Manfred, whispering. "That's a gem from the smoke! I've seen them before at the Imperial Academy of War. Nothing better to top off a staff of a Firemage. We could sell that for quite a bit. We'll make the innkeeper an offer on it later. And I wonder what else they have to trade or sell."

The innkeeper loaded the captains' table with a leg of lamb, a sliced loin of pig, and a brace of roasted quail. The giant claimed the large tureen of onion soup and, disdaining spoon and bowl, drank from the tureen until it was empty. He set down the empty vessel, belched, and patted his large belly. "Good soup. Can you believe they use water to make it? I was amazed by some of the things they eat in the conjunction the first time I visited." He eyed the leg of lamb, but a sudden gust of wind carried it to the plate in front of another captain. She laughed at him and yelled to the kitchen. "Two more of these roasted beast legs, if you please; my lads are hungry." Within minutes additional legs of lamb appeared and were carried to the table.

Theordis looked at his pork chops with disdain. The innkeeper had neglected to mention the lamb or the quail when he had taken their order. He started to rise and approach the captains, but Manfred held him back. "Best not to disturb their eating. Those are hungry and dangerous people. Wait until the cheese and deserts come forth." Theordis would have argued and ignored him, but the site of the three captains eating with daggers that they waved around to punctuate their stories made him see the wisdom of patience.

An argument broke out between the three over the best place to leave a chest of gold.

"The ship is the only place for it. Secure as long as you're the captain, and if you aren't the captain, then your dead."

"Yes, I see the logic. But what if you don't want to be dead? I prefer the traditional method of burying a fat chest. If things go badly, I can fly away and still be rich. Another ship and crew, and I'll be off to get revenge."

"Nope, I'm going to keep mine with me. Secure as a ship, and I do like the idea of not dying to keep my gold. My little chest is always with me."

Captain Woodrat scoffed. "Except your little chest is now full. What will you do the next time we scoop up gold and pearls? They value the stuff here in the junction. I plan on bringing more with me next time."

Captain Mariah finished her rum and was given a refill by an attentive boy. She also slipped him a few sparkling coins. "You should bury it here in the junction. They have so much useless land here! No one will find it."

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

Captain Woodrat laughed at them and then addressed the table of Taxmen. "You three look like merchants of some sort. Tell me what you'd do with extra gold and gems?"

Taken aback by the question, Geoffrey gave a truthful answer. "Well, there is always the gnomish bank." Manfred kicked him under the table and scowled. "What my sleepy friend meant just before he takes his drunken self up to his room is that a bank is adequate for someone who plays it safe and is averse to risk. For those who want their treasure to make them more treasure, there are much better ways to invest."

"Invest?"

Theordis picked up the thread. "Yes, invest. You put your money to work in a business of some sort. You own part of the business, and it makes money for you without you having to do anything."

Captain Shipbreaker drummed his fingers on the table, putting dents into it. "Like buying a coral mine and selling Auric powder?"

Theordis wasn't sure what the captain meant but nodded. "Yes, but in a business here in the empire."

Shipbreaker scowled. "Bah. My uncle lost half his gold by buying a coral mine. The filthy merchant sold that mine ten times over."

Captain Woodrat laughed. "That's what he gets for not reading the fine print, and please, my grandfather took a bath once a year. You can't call him filthy." The captains laughed and clanked together their tankards."

"Don't deal with a business. Deal with a noble and invest in their lands. They have Barons and Queens here, just as we do. There are advantages to knowing to who you handed your swag. And Nobles can't run away like a sleazy merchant or tax collector can." They all nodded at her wisdom and drank again.

"I might know of a few nobles looking for business partners. If I may be so bold, how much gold are we talking about." Theordis hoped the amount of rum the three were drinking would make them amiable to a little business.

"This much." Shipbreaker snapped his fingers, and a chest appeared on the table. The legs creaked, and it nearly collapsed. The lid flipped open, and Manfred and Theordis saw a horde of gold that would satisfy most dragons. Well, small dragons. Golden shell coins spilled out, along with white and black pearls and flaming rubies.

Theordis could barely breathe. "Yes, that much would get the interest of a few nobles I'm involved with. How many years of sailing the smoke does this represent, if I may.?"

Shipbreaker scowled. "Hard to figure since it wasn't a year. Call it a couple of months. We had a lot going on and didn't spend much time scooping up gold and pearls off the beaches. So call it a month or less. I'll need a bigger chest next trip. Who knew the conjunction set such a high value on this crap." He snapped his fingers, and the chest disappeared, much to the table's relief.

Captain Woodrat chuckled. "And that's the advantage of a ship's chest. Mine is ten times the size and just as full."

"Can we not start comparing chests again?" Mariah looked at the two merchants. "Sit. Tell us about these nobles of the conjunction who would welcome captains of the smoke to trade with them. Although to be honest, we have an agreement with Baron William."

Shipbreaker snarled. "That's the problem with being honest. But agreements can be broken for the right person and the right price. And they'd be gaining the anger of their fellow Baron."

"Not to worry about that part. We know people who are already very angry with Baron William and would love to pay well to bring your business to the south." Manfred winked at Theordis. Both men were feeling the effects of a day of drinking wine, and the tankard of rum that Captain Woodrat put in front of each of them wasn't helping.

All three captains smiled. Captain Woodrat looked at the two taxmen, eyes twinkling in the fire and his aura flaring bright. "I like where this talk is going, gentlemen. Tell us about these nobles who are against Baron William and would like to dabble in the trade of goods from the Smoke. I might even talk with my good friend, the Summer Lord. The Fae are fickle and can change partners on a whim. Give me the names of these new business partners and where to find them, and my ship will visit them soon."

Talk of business went long into the night. The cheese was brought, and a dark, sweet rum to go with it. Then a dessert of strawberry pudding drenched in flaming rum and served with a light rum flavored with limes. Half a bell before the sun rose above the horizon, the captains bid farewell to the taxmen snoring with their heads on the table. They handed the innkeeper another handful of golden shell coins for his trouble, reclaimed their hats from the stag, and enjoyed their walk back to the ship. The innkeeper went to bed, trusting in his wife and daughters to handle breakfast.

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A window was opened in each of the taxmen's rooms sometime during the night, and two figures slipped inside. They argued quietly as they rifled the packs and flipped through account books, looking for information.

"It's not that you aren't skilled at running the rooftops. I've known that since the unfortunate misunderstanding when you dropped me naked to the cobblestones."

"Then what is the problem?"

"You aren't a guild member. Sedgewick is part of Gadobhra, and I'm the Guild Master of the Thieves' guild. We can't just let anyone go around stealing things. That's how misunderstandings occur. The Guild has taken pains to protect your tavern and many other businesses from random thieves. Even when our members steal, they give most of it back. It's done for the experience, not the gold. The Guild is an integral part of society, working to build a better city."

"Nice speech, but I'm not buying it. You need more charisma and counter my jaded attitude. How much are guild fees?"

"You aren't a thief. You're a barmaid. Or a mayor."

"Despite running roofs, hiding in shadows, and dumping you to the flagstones?"

"How are you doing that? I swear, Contract Workers are so OP."

"OP, and yet I can't even use a dagger, short-sword, or lockpicks."

"Like I said, not a thief."

"Let's compromise then. I pay you ten gold in guild fees and get what I can from the guild. And I'll show you a few not-so-secret ways to increase your skills."

"And if I still don't like the idea?"

"I'll follow you, figure out where the guild is, and kill you from behind. I'll use a meat hook instead of a dagger. Very painful."

McTeeth remembered some of Gus's wise words about queens and assassins. He wasn't sure what Suzette was. But it was one or the other.

"You argue your point well. Ten gold it is, and welcome to the Guild."

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In the stables, a tired guard slumbered in the corner as a man went about his job caring for their horse. Each one was given a thorough brushing and had the burs removed from their tales. A bag of oats, fresh hay, and plenty of apples made a good dinner. While he worked, he kept up a constant string of soft words as he talked to them and asked them questions.

By the end of his shift, he knew every place they had visited in the last two months. Most of the horses had only been ridden by this group from Wolfsburg to Northguard and then teleported to Rowan Keep. But one of them, a cute filly named Flurryfoot, complained about the fat man that insisted on visiting not one but three baronies before meeting the rest of his party. She had some complaints and comments on the stables and roads in each of those baronies and gave Rolly enough information to know where the fat man had been. The shepherd made sure each of his new friends was comfortable and promised to be back the next night if they were still there.