Roo cleared his throat.
The door waiter turned and Roo winced as he saw it was Kurt. His old nemesis narrowed his gaze and said, ‘What do you want?’
‘I would like to speak with Jerome Masterson,’ said Roo evenly, ignoring Kurt’s lack of civility.
Kurt raised one eyebrow but said nothing. He turned and whispered something to another waiter, a new boy unknown to Roo, who nodded and hurried off. ‘Wait here,’ said Kurt, walking away.
‘Surly bugger, isn’t he?’ said Dash.
‘You don’t know the half of it,’ said Roo.
The second waiter and Kurt returned a few minutes later, and Kurt said, ‘Mr Masterson regrets that his schedule at this time doesn’t present an opportunity to speak with you. Perhaps some other time.’
Roo’s temper began to flare. ‘Let me guess, Kurt. You neglected to specify who was asking to see him.’ Roo pushed through the swinging railing and Kurt backed away a step.
‘Don’t make me send for the City Watch, Avery!’ warned Kurt.
Roo motioned for the young waiter to come closer, and with some hesitancy, he did. ‘What did you say to Mr Masterson?’
The boy glanced at Kurt, then Roo. ‘I told him what Kurt said to tell him: a former waiter wished a word with him.’
‘That’s what I thought,’ said Roo. He instructed the boy, ‘Return and say to Mr Masterson that Rupert Avery of Avery and Son and the grandson of the Duke of Krondor would appreciate a moment of his time.’
At mention of the Duke, Dash made a theatrical half-bow, with a wicked grin, and Kurt’s face drained of color. He glanced at the now totally confused waiter and said, ‘Do it!’
Two men returned with the waiter a few moments later. To Rupert’s surprise and pleasure, one of them was Sebastian Lender. ‘Young Avery,’ said Lender, holding out his hand. They shook.
‘Gentlemen, may I present Dashel, grandson of the Duke of Krondor and the newest member of my company.’
‘And may I present Jerome Masterson,’ said Lender, referring to the stocky man at his side. Masterson wore a short-cut black beard shot with grey, and his hair was cut straight at his collar. His clothing was finely made but of plain design, and he wore a minimum of jewelry.
‘Please, come with me,’ said Masterson, leading them into the main room of the coffee house.
As they left a gaping Kurt behind, Roo turned and said, ‘My cousin Duncan will be along sometime soon. Please show him to our table the moment he arrives.’
The order for coffee was put in as they settled around a large table in the corner, and Masterson said, ‘Your grandfather and I are old friends, Dash. Boyhood friends.’
Dash grinned. ‘I think I understand.’
Roo did as well. Given what he overheard that night outside the headquarters of the leader of the Mockers, he guessed that the Duke wasn’t the only former thief to have migrated to a lawful existence. Then there was always the chance that despite his proper appearance, he was still a thief.
Masterson said, ‘You look enough like him … it’s uncanny. Do you take after him in other ways?’ he asked with a wink.
Dash laughed. ‘I’ve climbed a wall or two in my time, but I’ve never picked up the knack for cutting purses. My mother frowned on that sort of thing.’
They all laughed, and the coffee was served. As each man fixed his cup the way he liked it, Lender said, ‘So, Mr Avery. I was conducting some routine business with one of my clients when your message came to us. What is this about?’
Roo glanced at Masterson, who nodded. ‘Lender is my litigator and solicitor, so he would be here even if you didn’t know him. I am right in assuming this isn’t a social call, am I not?’
‘You are indeed, sir,’ said Roo. Clearing his throat, he said, ‘I am looking to form a syndicate.’
Lender glanced at Masterson, and then asked, ‘You mean join a syndicate?’
‘No, I mean to form one specifically for an investment.’
Masterson said, ‘I am a partner in several. It might be far easier to propose you as a member of one than to build one from scratch.’
Roo said, ‘I only worked here a short time, but as I understand the workings of such, if I join a syndicate and propose a venture and the partners vote it down, then I’m out of luck.’
‘Yes, that’s true,’ said Masterson.
‘But if I propose the creation of one for the specific purpose of the venture, then only those who wish to participate will accept partnership, and we go forward.’
‘That is also true,’ said Lender.
‘Well, before we rush down that avenue,’ said Masterson, ‘let’s hear something about your venture so I can judge the wisdom of starting from scratch.’
Roo hesitated, but it was Dash who spoke. ‘You’re going to have to tell someone sooner or later, Mr Avery.’
Roo sighed. His biggest fear was of telling someone in a position to take advantage of the news without benefiting himself. He knew it unlikely from anyone who was recommended by the Duke and a client of Lender’s, but he still hesitated.
‘Go on,’ said Lender.
‘I mean to underwrite shipping.’
‘There are dozens of such syndicates already,’ said Masterson. ‘Why do we need a new one?’
‘I want to specialize in grain shipments to the Free Cities.’
Masterson and Lender looked at each other. Masterson said, ‘That’s usually a fairly short-gain, low-risk venture, young man – unless the Quegans are in a raiding mood. But as they’ve been quiet of late, one must suspect you’ve a different reason to wish to specialize in a relatively dull enterprise.’
Roo colored a bit. ‘I have reason to believe that the demand for such transport is likely to go up soon and that there will be a very heavy increase in shipping to the Free Cities, so I thought I would be in a position to set up some multiple-voyage underwriting.’
Masterson looked at Lender. ‘The lad knows something.’ Leaning forward, he lowered his voice. ‘Out with it, Rupert. I give you my word that whatever it is, you shall be entitled to a full share based on both your participation and your news.’
Roo glanced at the other three faces and quietly said, ‘Locusts.’
‘I knew it!’ said Masterson, slapping the table.
Lender said, ‘You knew there were locusts in the Free Cities?’
‘No,’ answered Masterson. ‘I knew there was something that gave him an edge.’ Again lowering his voice, he said, ‘There’s a type of insect called the twenty-year locust that breeds out there. They’re due next year, but sometimes they come a year early and sometimes they come a year late. Any news they are in fact on their way …’ Masterson looked up and signaled to a waiter, who hurried over. Masterson said, ‘Would you see if Mr Crowley and Mr Hume are upstairs, please? If they are, ask them to please join us.’
Turning to Roo, Masterson said, ‘How reliable is your source?’
Roo was loath to tell him the news was from a fugitive sea trader dealing in stolen gems. ‘I’d say it’s fairly reliable.’
Masterson stroked his beard. ‘There are several ways to play this. Each matches risk to reward.’
Two men approached and Masterson indicated they should sit. He introduced everyone. Hume and Crowley were a pair of investors who had participated in several different syndicates with Masterson.
‘Our young friend here’ – he indicated Roo – ‘brings us word of a shortage of grain in the Free Cities. How do you react to that news?’
‘How much of a shortage?’ asked Crowley, a thin, suspicious-looking fellow.
Roo lowered his voice and once again said, ‘Locusts.’
‘Who is your source?’ asked Hume, a soft-looking man with a wheezing in his chest.
‘A Quegan trader put in at Sarth two weeks ago and mentioned in passing to a business associate of mine that they had been found on a farm outside Margrave’s Port.’
Masterson said, ‘That would be the logical place for them to first show up.’
‘If it’s as bad as when I was a boy,’ said Hume, ‘they could spread up to Ylith and into Yabon. There would be serious shortages in the West.’
‘And if they go over the mountains into the Far Coast region, even more,’ said Crowley.
Masterson turned to face Roo. ‘There are three basic ways we can approach this news, my young friend.’ He held up a finger. ‘We can attempt to buy grain now, storing it away in warehouses, and wait for the demand to increase.’ He held up a second finger. ‘We can do as you suggest and underwrite the cost of shipping the grain to the Far Coast, making our profit irrespective of the profit potential in each shipment of grain.’ He held up the third finger. ‘Or we can try to control the grain without purchasing it.’
‘Options?’ said Crowley.
Nodding, Masterson said to Roo, ‘Do you know about options?’
Roo decided trying to appear more clever than he was would work against him in this situation. ‘Not really.’
‘We agree to buy grain at a price from a group of growers here in the area. But rather than buy it, we purchase the right to buy it, for a small part of the costs. If we fail to purchase it, we lose the option money.
‘The benefit is that we can control a huge amount of grain for a relatively small amount of gold.’
‘But the risk is you lose everything if the price goes down,’ said Dash.
‘Yes,’ said Crowley. ‘You do understand.’
Masterson said, ‘I propose we hedge our positions by buying some grain at market, options on the rest.’
‘What about the underwriting?’ said Roo.
Masterson said, ‘I’ve never been keen on underwriting. Ships sink. If what you say turns out to be true, we’ll be sending grain out on anything that floats, and some of the craft will likely sink. Let someone else assume the risk and we’ll pay a tiny premium.’ Masterson was quiet a moment, then said, ‘I think we option the entire amount. What hedge we have with grain purchase is trivial if the price doesn’t rise. We diminish our risk by little, but we diminish our profit potential a great deal.’
Hume sighed. ‘You always win at cards, too.’ He thought a moment. ‘But you make sense. If we are to gamble, then let us gamble.’
Crowley said, ‘Agreed.’
This was all going too quickly for Roo, and he said, ‘How much will this cost?’
‘How much gold do you have?’ asked Crowley.
Roo tried to remain calm as he said, ‘I can put about twenty thousand sovereigns on the table this week.’
Masterson said, ‘A tidy sum. Between us we can raise a hundred thousand. That should prove sufficient for our needs.’
‘What’s our potential gain?’ asked Dash, ignoring the fact he was considered Roo’s assistant.
Hume laughed and coughed. ‘If there is a massive grain shortage in the Free Cities, a five-to-one return is not out of the question. If it spreads to Yabon and Crydee, ten-to-one is not outside possibility.’
Masterson added, ‘If all goes as we hope, young Mr Avery, your twenty thousand golden sovereigns could be two hundred thousand within the next three months.’
Roo was almost speechless, but then Lender said, ‘Or it could be nothing.’
Roo felt a cold chill run up his back.
Masterson said, ‘I propose a new syndicate, gentlemen. We shall be the Krondor Grain Traders Association. Would you draw up the papers, Mr Lender?’
Then he turned to Roo and stuck out his hand. ‘Welcome to our syndicate, Mr Avery.’
Roo stood and solemnly shook hands with his three new business partners. As the other men moved away from the table, Masterson said, ‘We’ll post your name as a member, and you’ll be able to join us up there.’ He pointed to the private upper gallery, restricted to members only. Roo had served coffee up there, but would never have been allowed to set foot there otherwise. ‘I’ll see you to the door.’
Lender left as well, and Masterson put his hand on Roo’s shoulder as they walked toward the main entrance. ‘When can you have your gold here, Rupert?’
‘Within the next two days, Mr Masterson.’
‘Call me Jerome.’
‘Call me Roo; everyone does.’
‘Very well, Roo. Get it here as soon as possible, and Lender will send word to your office when the papers are ready to be signed.’
As they reached the door, Roo saw Duncan entering through one door. Through the other came an older man, whom Roo recognized as Jacob Esterbrook. But next to him walked a young woman so beautiful that Roo almost stumbled. He saw Duncan’s mouth open at the sight of her.
She was perfect, thought Roo. Her hair was done up in a current fashion that framed her face in curls, and ringlets hung down the back of her head, a halo of gold. Her eyes were enormous and the blue of late winter skies, and her cheeks held a hint of blush. Her figure was slender and she carried herself like royalty.
‘Ah, Esterbrook!’ said Masterson. ‘There’s someone here I want you to meet.’
Esterbrook nodded as Masterson opened the swinging gate at the rail, ignoring the flustered-looking waiter who had tried to get there first after opening the door of the carriage from which the Esterbrooks had descended.
‘Sylvia,’ said Masterson, nodding in greeting.
‘Good day, Mr Masterson,’ said the girl with a smile that made Roo’s blood pound.
‘Jacob Esterbrook,’ said Masterson, ‘one of our most important members, may I present to you our newest member, Mr Rupert Avery.’
Esterbrook’s expression remained unchanged. But something about his eyes bothered Roo. Esterbrook said, ‘Grindle and Avery?’
Roo said, ‘It’s now Avery and Son, sir.’ He held out his hand.
Esterbrook regarded the proffered hand a moment, then shook, a quick grip and release that made it clear this was no more than a formality. Something in his manner communicated to Roo that Mr Esterbrook didn’t think much of Barret’s newest member.
Then Roo caught himself being regarded coolly by Sylvia, and now he was certain: the Esterbrooks of Krondor didn’t particularly care for the company of one Rupert Avery. Roo slowly turned toward Dash, while finding himself unable to take his eyes off Sylvia. ‘Ah …’ he began. ‘May I present my new assistant?’
Sylvia leaned forward ever so slightly, as if to hear better. ‘Yes?’ she asked quietly.
Dash took control. ‘Dashel,’ he said with a smile and deep bow. ‘I believe you know my grandfather.’
Esterbrook said, ‘Indeed?’
‘Duke James,’ said Dash with feigned innocence.
Instantly Esterbrook’s and his daughter’s manner changed. He smiled and she beamed, and as her smile broadened, Rupert felt his pulse pound even more furiously. ‘Of course,’ said Esterbrook, taking Dash’s hand and gripping it warmly. ‘Please remember me to your grandfather when next you speak with him.’
Sylvia turned her radiant smile on Roo. ‘You must come to dinner soon, Mr Avery. I insist.’
Roo could barely speak as he nodded. ‘I would love to.’
Dash turned to Masterson with a grin. ‘We must be going, sir. We’ll be back tomorrow.’
‘Good day, then,’ said Masterson, the farewell echoed by Esterbrook and his daughter.
Dash gently propelled Roo out the door and reached out to take Duncan’s arm and turn him around as they stepped through the portal into the street. To the gaping cousins he said, ‘You’d think you two had never seen a pretty face before.’
Roo reached home late that night. It had taken half the day to deal with the news that Duncan had returned with, that it would be both possible and dangerous to dispose of the drugs but that the profit potential was very high. Katherine had also been unable to provide the name of anyone who might consider such a purchase.
Then there was the matter of housing Dash. Roo promised that he would secure quarters for Luis and Duncan in a few days, allowing Jason and Dash to share the apartment, but for the time being the newest addition to their company’s roster would have to sleep in a makeshift loft above the wagons in the warehouse. If the grandson of the most powerful noble in the Kingdom was discomfited by this revelation, he hid it in good humor. Roo suspected he had seen rougher quarters during his relatively short life. He thought in passing about his asking if he was being tossed out of the palace again.
Jason and Roo had sat up for a couple of hours plotting the quick disposal of the gems gained in Sarth. A message was prepared for a gem broker in Salador who had been an old trading companion of Helmut Grindle’s, outlining in detail what Roo had to offer, and by the time that had been disposed of, it was after dark.
Roo made it home and used his key to unlock the door. He saw that everyone was already in bed and quietly made his way upstairs. In the gloom he saw Karli asleep in the bed. There was a tiny shape next to her, and he leaned close. Then he saw the baby.
In the murk of the unlit room the child was little more than a featureless, blanket-wrapped lump, and Roo could barely make out the little bump of her nose. He waited for some strong emotion to come sweeping up out of a natural paternal well, but nothing came. Then he looked at his sleeping wife and again felt close to nothing. Standing back upright, he sighed. It was the fatigue, he told himself. And his mind rushed with concern over the coming investments. If he was being a fool, he would lose everything he had built over the last two years. While he was young and could start over again, he knew that a failure now would rob him of any future chance for greatness and riches.
As he removed his boots, a soft voice said, ‘Roo?’
He grunted as he dropped one boot upon the floor. ‘Yes,’ he whispered. ‘I’m back.’
‘How … are you?’ she asked.
‘Tired,’ he said. ‘I have a lot to tell you, but in the morning.’
The baby stirred, then suddenly it was crying, and Roo asked, ‘What is wrong?’
Karli sat up in the dark and said, ‘Nothing. She’s hungry. That’s all. She needs to eat during the night, two or three times.’
Roo sat upon a small chair, one boot on, the other off, and said, ‘How long does this go on?’
Karli said, ‘For the next four months, maybe longer.’
Roo stood, picked up his boot, and said, ‘I’m going to sleep in your old room. There’s no reason for both of us to be exhausted tomorrow and I have a great deal to do. I’ll tell you about it when I get up.’
He closed the door behind him and moved to Karli’s old bedroom. Stripping off his clothing, he fell into the bed where he and Karli had created their baby, and in the dark his mind raced: first exultation at the prospect of ten years’ profits in a few months, then terror that he would be destitute instead. Next he plotted how he would expand once the profits were his, and then he felt fear creep up as he thought how best to recover from the coming disaster. But more and more as sleep approached, he found his mind’s eye returning to the image of a wonderful face, with large blue eyes and golden hair, and a laugh that made his stomach knot. Sleep finally came with the dawn.
Roo came downstairs, his head as fuzzy as if he had been drinking the night before. He found Karli in the kitchen, nursing Abigail, and he kissed her dutifully upon the cheek. ‘We’ve missed you,’ said Karli.
‘It’s good to be back,’ he said as Rendel, the cook, poured him a steaming cup of coffee. He had developed the habit of starting the day with a cup while working at Barret’s, and had purchased beans for grinding when he first came to live in the house.
He studied the baby. The tiny figure lay in her mother’s arms, her hands moving in random directions, her tiny eyes opening and closing. From time to time she would look in his direction, and he would wonder what was going on behind those slate-blue orbs. ‘I’ve never seen eyes that color,’ he said.
Karli laughed. ‘Most babies have eyes like this. They’ll turn brown or blue when she’s older.’
‘Oh,’ was all he said.
‘You had a good journey?’ she asked.
‘Very,’ he answered. ‘I came across some information.’ He fell silent for a few moments, then blurted, ‘I’m forming a trading syndicate.’
Karli said, ‘Father was always cautious in tying up his future with others.’
Roo was in no mood to be compared to his dead father-in-law, whom Karli almost worshipped, but he took the comment as if it were merely an observation. ‘That discounts risk,’ he agreed. ‘But I have ambitions beyond your father’s, Karli, and if I’m to realize a rich future for you and the child, I must take some risks.’
‘Is this venture risky?’ she asked. She didn’t seem overly concerned but rather interested.
Roo couldn’t convincingly shrug it off, so he just said, ‘Yes.’
‘You think this will work out?’
Roo nodded, ‘I think we’re going to be richer than you can imagine in a few months.’
She managed a small smile. ‘I always thought we were rich; I know the house isn’t much to look at, but Father always liked to keep a modest appearance, lest it attract undue notice. But we always had good food, wine, new clothing. If I wanted anything, I only had to ask.’
Roo’s fatigue and nerves made this conversation irritating. He finished his coffee and stood. ‘I have to get to the shop.’ He again kissed her dutifully on the cheek and glanced down at the now sleeping baby. It appeared so alien to Roo he wondered if he would ever feel anything for the child.
‘Will you be home for supper?’ Karli asked.
‘Certainly,’ he said. ‘Why wouldn’t I be?’
He didn’t wait for a reply as he hurried out the door.
Duncan hailed Roo as he walked into the shop. ‘Where have you been?’
Roo looked irritated. ‘Sleeping. You know, when you close your eyes and don’t move for a long time?’
Duncan grinned and said, ‘Oh, you mean dead. Look, your new business partners would like you to come to Barret’s at once.’
‘Jason!’ Roo yelled as he turned away from his cousin. ‘Where are you?’
Jason and Dash came out of a small office and Jason said, ‘Yes?’
‘Where’s our gold? In the strongbox?’
‘Yes.’
‘How much do we have?’
‘We have accounts due in later this week, but right now you have twenty-one thousand, six hundred, and forty-seven gold pieces, and a few silver coins.’
Roo told Dash and Duncan, ‘Put the box in a wagon and bring it to the coffee house. I’m leaving now.’
He hurried out through the front of the shop and down the street. Moving through the crowd was as trying an ordeal as Roo had ever known, so impatient was he to get this business done.
He reached the coffee house and walked straight past the door waiter, who blinked as Roo admitted himself to the main floor. McKeller, the headwaiter, was moving toward him, and as Roo moved toward the stairs to the second floor, he said, ‘Welcome, Mr Avery.’
Roo couldn’t help but grin. He was a member! He mounted the stairs two at a time and reached the top landing, where before he had always come carrying a large serving tray. He glanced around and saw Masterson’s table, and his three new partners and Lender sitting there.
‘Glad you could join us,’ said Masterson dryly.
‘I hope you gentlemen haven’t been waiting too long,’ said Roo as he sat. ‘I have a new baby in the house and things are a bit confused. I didn’t get much sleep last night.’
All four men made understanding noises and brief comments about their own children, then Masterson said, ‘Here we have it, gentlemen: the document forming our new trading syndicate.’ He handed copies around and Roo looked at the neatly executed script.
Roo read it twice, and he thought he understood it, but he wasn’t sure. He pointed to a paragraph and said, ‘Mr Lender, would you explain this to me, please?’
Lender looked at the indicated paragraph. ‘That simply pledges your goods and other chattels against any losses beyond those secured by whatever gold you bring to this accounting.’
Roo blinked. ‘How could we go into debt beyond what we agree to?’
Masterson said, ‘We usually don’t, but there are instances when circumstances require a decision on the basis of the partnership, and sometimes we must establish lines of credit. If we need cash and don’t have it, a moneylender or admitting new partners are the only alternatives. If we take loans, we often must pledge our personal businesses, even our homes and family heirlooms, as security. It’s normal.’
Roo frowned but said nothing. Then he asked, ‘But no one can do this without our agreement?’
Masterson smiled. ‘There are four of us. It would take a three-to-one majority to do so.’
Roo was uncertain, but he nodded. Lender said, ‘If each of you will sign the document before him and pass it to your right, then sign again, we’ll have all these copies executed.’
A waiter appeared and Roo ordered coffee without looking up. He signed his name four times, and when he was done, he held his admission to the high-risk financial community of the city.
‘Now,’ said Crowley, ‘to the sums.’
Hume said, ‘I am comfortable with a position of fifteen thousand sovereigns.’
Crowley said, ‘Fifteen is fine with me.’
Masterson said, ‘Mr Avery?’
‘Twenty-one thousand. But I may have more by the end of the week.’
Masterson raised an eyebrow. ‘Very well. So far that means fifty-one thousand.’ He drummed his fingers on the table a moment. ‘I have heard this morning of some cautious inquiries about grain shipments to the Free Cities, so I’m beginning to think our young friend is on to something. I will occupy a position that will take the syndicate to one hundred thousand golden sovereigns.’ He looked at his three partners. ‘If any of you would care to underwrite more, I will surrender up to a third of my position for a premium, depending on the price of wheat at the time.’
Lender said, ‘Gentlemen, your letters of credit?’
The three men reached into their coats and withdrew letters. Roo looked confused. ‘I’m having the gold brought here. It will arrive in a few minutes.’
The three men laughed. ‘Mr Avery,’ said Lender, ‘it is usual to keep one’s gold in an account at one of the countinghouses in the city, and to draw upon the funds with letters of credit.’ He lowered his voice. ‘You’ll discover that here at Barret’s we deal in sums that would require several wagons of gold to carry if we were to require the gold actually to be present.’
Roo looked unsure but said, ‘I have no such account.’
Lender said, ‘I will help you establish one at one of the more reputable moneylending firms in the city. I will note that you intend to participate to the amount of twenty-one thousand golden sovereigns.’
Roo nodded. ‘Though if more arrive later this week, I may wish to purchase some of Mr Masterson’s … position.’
Lender nodded and noted that.
‘Then we are ready?’ said Masterson.
Roo sat back. He had witnessed what was to come next on several occasions as he waited tables, not quite certain about the details of what was occurring, but never before had he had such a keen interest in what was happening.
Lender stood and walked to the rail overlooking the center floor and raised his voice. ‘Gentlemen, we have a request for an option on wheat. A new syndicate has formed, the Krondor Grain Traders Association. We close our books at the end of the week, best price position to a sum of one hundred thousand sovereigns, subject to revision.’
There was a slight buzz at the price, but then the noise in the room returned to normal. The five men sat, and after a half hour passed, a waiter arrived bearing a note. He handed it to Lender, who handed it to Masterson, who read it. He said, ‘We have an offer of fifty thousand bushels at two silvers per bushel, delivered to the docks of Krondor in sixty days.’
Roo did the calculations in his head. That was ten thousand gold pieces. Hume asked, ‘What position?’
‘Fifteen percent.’
Crowley laughed. ‘Let me guess. That was from Amested.’
Masterson laughed in return. ‘Yes.’
‘He’s fishing,’ said Crowley. ‘He thinks we’re onto something and wants to know what it is.’
He took the paper from Masterson and scribbled a note on it. ‘I’m telling him we’ll pay three percent for fifty thousand at four coppers per bushel with a five-percent-per-week penalty for late delivery after sixty days.’
Masterson almost snorted his coffee. He laughed. ‘You’re going to make him very curious.’
‘Let him wonder.’
Hume looked at Roo. ‘You’ll meet Amested and the others below in time. He’s always trying to find out who is doing what, without taking risks himself. If he thinks there’s a killing, he’ll try to buy the wheat now, at what we call future prices, and then hold it for us at an inflated price, after we’ve exhausted our options. He offered us a price he knew we’d say no to, and we just made a counteroffer that we know he’ll say no to.’
Roo said, ‘But why not offer him a price he’ll say yes to?’
Masterson said, ‘Your meaning?’
‘I mean his coins are gold as much as any man’s, and we don’t care if he makes or loses money in this as long as we make ours. If we can use this man to set a price and he comments upon it, and the word gets out …’ Roo shrugged.
Crowley’s leathery old face split in a wide grin. ‘You’re a shrewd young one, aren’t you, Avery?’
Masterson held out his hand, and Crowley handed back the note. Masterson balled it up and threw it away and indicated the young waiter should bring him new parchment and pen. When that was delivered, he wrote a note. ‘I’m telling him what we’ll pay, straight out. Ten percent against a price of one silver per bushel delivered at the docks in sixty days. We guarantee up to one million gold sovereigns with a security of one hundred thousand.’
Old Hume was now almost splitting his sides trying to control his laughter. ‘This is priceless. It’s exactly what we’re doing, but now old Amested will be certain we’re lying to him and be trying to figure out what it is we’re really up to.’
The waiter was given the note and instructed to carry it back to the sender of the earlier note. A few minutes later, Duncan and Dash appeared, carrying the chest of gold. They required the help of two waiters and Lender stood up at once, saying, ‘We’d better get that treasure to a counting-house before raiders come looking for us.’
The gold was deposited and accounted, and a letter of credit in the amount of twenty-one thousand golden sovereigns was provided to Roo, who turned it over to Lender. Then they returned to the coffee house.
Over the course of the day, notes would appear and Masterson would read them, comment on them, and occasionally write a reply. Once in a while he would simply say, ‘No,’ and hand the note back to the waiter.
At the end of the day, he stood and said, ‘This has been a good start, gentlemen. I shall see you tomorrow.’
Roo rose and discovered that Dash and Duncan had spent the entire day downstairs, waiting for him. He cursed himself for a fool. His own anxiety over the investment had completely occupied his mind and made him forget he had a freight business to conduct.
‘Head back to the office and tell Jason I’m on my way,’ he said to Dash. When the young nobleman was gone, Roo said to Duncan, ‘Why don’t you go looking for a nice pair of rooms for you and Luis. Our accounts are settled and I can pay to get you into more comfortable quarters at once.’
Duncan grinned. ‘About time.’ Then he said, ‘If we’re to be spending time with people of quality, cousin, we need to do something about our wardrobes.’
Suddenly Roo felt shabby for the first time in his life. He said, ‘In the morning.’
As Duncan ran off, Roo looked around Barret’s, drinking in the fact that he was now an investor. As he made to leave, a voice sounded out of the shadows of a table back under the overhang. ‘Mr Avery, a word with you, sir.’
Avery recognized the voice of Jacob Esterbrook and moved toward the table. At the table he saw two figures, and his pulse began to race as he recognized the other man as Tim Jacoby.
Jacoby looked at Roo and said nothing as Esterbrook said, ‘I believe you know my business associate, Mr Jacoby?’
Roo said, ‘We’ve met.’
Esterbrook said, ‘I hope that in the future you gentlemen will put aside your differences.’ He made no pretense of not knowing there was bad blood between Roo and Tim. ‘It would be my most sincere wish to see such differences vanish in the future.’
Jacoby stood and looked at Roo, saying nothing to him. To Esterbrook he said, ‘I’ll pay my respects tomorrow, Jacob.’
After he left, Esterbrook said, ‘Sit down, please.’
Roo did, and after signaling for some more coffee, Esterbrook said, ‘Mr Jacoby’s father and I are old business associates, and more, friends. Frederick and I started out together, here in Krondor. We began as teamsters.’
Roo said, ‘My father was a teamster.’
For the first time since Roo met the man, Jacob Esterbrook looked at him with genuine interest. He asked, ‘Is that so?’
Roo nodded.
‘Can you drive a team, Mr Avery?’
Roo smiled and said, ‘I can drive a team, Mr Esterbrook. Six horses without breaking a sweat, eight if I keep my mind on things.’
The man laughed, a genuine sound of amusement and perhaps even with a hint of affection. ‘A teamster. Imagine that.’ He sighed. ‘Perhaps that’s why my daughter finds you so interesting.’
At mention of Esterbrook’s daughter, Roo found his heart pounding. He forced himself to remain as calm as possible. ‘Oh?’ he said, trying to sound only mildly interested.
‘Sylvia is a … difficult child,’ said Esterbrook. ‘A young woman with a mind of her own. I have little understanding of what captures her fancy. Which brings me to my reason for asking you to join me. She requests you join us for supper at the end of this week. Will you?’
Roo didn’t hesitate. ‘Certainly.’
‘Good,’ said Esterbrook, sipping his coffee. ‘Then we can discuss what we shall do if you find you must kill Mr Jacoby.’
Roo felt as if a cold bucket of water had been thrown on him. Calmly he said, ‘Oh, I shall someday kill him, have no doubt. He murdered my partner.’
Esterbrook shrugged, as if that were of little importance. ‘Well, if we can find a way to avoid that, my lot in life would be easier.’ He put down the cup. ‘And be warned, while you are presently well connected at the palace, you are not the only one. My friend Frederick Jacoby also counts powerful men as friends.’ Leaning over, he whispered, ‘If you must kill his sons, be discreet about it, will you, now? And if you can manage, some advance warning so I may distance myself from the Jacobys would be appreciated also.’ Patting Roo on the shoulder, he made his way around the table. ‘My coach is now outside. I will see you for supper on Fifthday.’
Roo sat alone for a minute, wondering at this new world of intrigue he found himself in. The polite manner in which Esterbrook discussed murder bothered him as much as anything he had witnessed during the war.
Then he thought of seeing Sylvia on Fifthday and his heart almost beat out of his chest. Forcing himself to calmness, he realized he must do as Duncan suggested and improve his wardrobe.
He stood up and left, and until he reached his shop and Jason brought matters of trade to his attention, he couldn’t stop thinking about Sylvia Esterbrook.
During the week, Roo fell into a routine. He left home at first light, stopped by the shop and went over the day’s shipments with Luis, Duncan, Jason, and Dash, then went on to Barret’s. Sometimes Duncan or Dash would accompany him, depending on what else needed to be done at the shop. Other times he went alone.
Duncan had found a small house to rent not too far from the office, with two bedrooms. Roo told him to hire a cook. Jason and Dash spruced up their own quarters at the shop and seemed to be becoming fast friends. While Jason was a few years older than Dash, it was clear from his manner and comments that Dash was old beyond his years and far more worldly than Jason.
Roo followed Duncan’s suggestion and visited a tailor recommended to him by Lender. He supplied Roo with clothing fit for both Barret’s and social functions. Duncan went for far more colorful clothing, looking nothing so much like a court dandy as a former mercenary.
Jason came to him on the third day after the syndicate was formed and said, ‘Can I ask you something without causing offense, Mr Avery?’
Roo said, ‘Certainly, Jason. You were the only one at Barret’s who tried to set me right when Kurt and the others were trying to trip me up; I consider us friends. What is it?’
‘What is it exactly that your cousin is doing?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean Luis is overseeing the shipping schedule, seeing to rates, and making runs, I’m doing all the accounts and paying the workers, and Dash is helping Luis and me when either of us need him. But Duncan, well … well, he’s just sort of … around.’
Thinking of the encounter on the road with the driver from Jacoby’s and how Duncan could stand at his back with his sword, Roo said, ‘I understand your concern. Let’s just say he helps me. Is there anything else?’
Jason said, ‘No. I just … well, anyway. Are you heading for the coffee house?’
Roo nodded. ‘I’ll be there if you need me for anything.’
Roo reached Barret’s less than a half hour later only to discover the upper room in quite a minor frenzy. Masterson waved him over to the table and said, ‘Something is going on.’
Several waiters were hovering nearby, taking pieces of paper that were being scribbled upon by Hume and Crowley. ‘What is it?’ asked Roo.
‘We’re getting offers. Many of them.’
Roo’s forehead furrowed. ‘Where are they coming from?’
Masterson said, ‘Why, from other members.’
‘No, I mean where is the grain coming from?’
Masterson blinked. ‘I don’t know.’
Suddenly Roo felt certain he knew the answer. He took a waiter by the arm and said, ‘Send a message to my office. I want my cousin Duncan or my assistant Dash here as soon as possible.’
To the others he said, ‘Have we taken any positions?’
‘Not yet,’ said Crowley, ‘but the price is dropping and I’m inclined to think it’s not going to go lower.’
‘How low?’
‘It’s down to two silvers for three bushels, at eight percent secured.’
Roo lowered his voice. ‘I’m willing to bet one of the other brokers has sent someone east to the Vale of Dreams. Would you think that price reasonable if someone is bringing Keshian wheat north through the Vale?’
‘What makes you think that?’ asked Masterson.
Roo said, ‘Because I’m a sneaky bastard whose father drove a wagon to all parts of the Kingdom, including the border near the Vale.’
Soon Duncan showed up and Roo said, ‘I need you to start hitting inns near the traders’ gates. Listen for Valemen. I need to know if anyone has been buying grain in Kesh, who, and how much.’
After Duncan hurried off, Crowley said, ‘Are you using some magic power we’re ignorant of, or is this a guess?’
‘It’s a guess. But before sundown I think we’re going to find that as much wheat as we need, twice over, is on its way west from the Vale.’
‘Why?’ said Hume. ‘Why do you think that?’
Grimly Roo said, ‘Because it’s what I would do if I wanted to ruin this syndicate.’ He then asked, ‘What sort of surety do we get regarding delivery?’
‘The options are secured, so if the person offering the option defaults, he is liable under Kingdom law for the entire price, and more, for the gold we’d lose by not being able to ship the grain. To offer a contract and not make delivery would be terribly damaging … unless
‘Unless what?’ asked Roo.
‘Unless the association that might bring a claim in the King’s Court was already out of business and suffering suit for its own failure to meet contracts.’
Roo said, ‘Now I know someone is trying to ruin us.’ He was silent a moment. ‘Do we have grounds to refuse the wheat for poor quality?’
Masterson said, ‘We don’t. We can refuse the contract delivery only if the grain is rotten or otherwise damaged. Why?’
‘Because they’re paying the lowest prices, so they are going to be bringing in the cheapest grain out there.’ Roo pointed at his three partners. ‘Who’s offering these contracts?’
‘Various groups,’ answered Crowley.
‘Who’s behind them?’
Masterson’s eyes focused on the pile of notes as if trying to discern a pattern. After a moment he said, ‘Jacob.’
Roo felt his chest constrict in panic. ‘Esterbrook?’
Hume and Crowley said, ‘Why would he meddle in this?’
Roo said, ‘My fault, I fear. He might find things more convenient down the road if I were reduced to poverty quickly. Your ruination would be only an unfortunate consequence, nothing personal, I’m certain.’
‘What do we do?’ asked Crowley.
‘Well, we can’t be buying wheat that even the most venal millers won’t buy.’ Roo considered things for a few minutes in silence, then suddenly he said, ‘I have it!’
‘What?’
‘I’ll tell you when Duncan returns. Until then, do nothing, buy nothing.’
Roo rose and left, determined to sniff out some information on his own. Near sundown he discovered Duncan in an inn, in a corner, sitting quietly at a table with two oddly dressed men, mercenaries by their arms and armor. Duncan waved him over.
‘Roo, these friends of mine have an interesting story.’ Roo noticed that several tankards of ale had been consumed but that Duncan was as sober as the day he was born, and his ale was hardly touched.
Roo sat and introductions were made. The two mercenaries told Roo how they had been hired to guard a fast post rider who carried a message from the city of Shamata to a trader in Krondor regarding the purchase of a huge shipment of grain from down in Kesh. When he was finished, Roo rose. He threw a small pouch of gold on the table and said, ‘Gentlemen, pay for your room, drinks, and dinner on me. Duncan, come along.’
He hurried back to Barret’s and found his three partners almost alone in the upper gallery. He sat down and told them, ‘Someone is bringing a huge shipment of poor-quality grain to Krondor.’
‘Are you certain?’
Crowley repeated his question of earlier that day. ‘Why buy grain you can’t sell?’
Roo said, ‘Someone knows we’re writing contracts on options. Someone also knows that we must either pay the full price or forfeit the option price. So they bring grain into the city, enough to meet the contract demand, that we refuse to buy. They keep the contract money and dump the grain.’
‘But they’ll lose money!’ said Crowley.
‘Not that much. But more than offset by the contract price. And if their purpose is to break us, not make a profit, they won’t care if they lose a small amount.’
Hume said, ‘That’s predatory.’
‘Very predatory,’ said Masterson, ‘and brilliant.’
‘What do we do?’ asked Hume.
Roo said, ‘Gentlemen, I have been a soldier, and now it’s time to test your resolve. Either we can stop buying, and count what we’ve contracted for so far as a loss, or we can seek to turn this to our advantage. But it will take more gold than we have so far pledged to make this work for us.’
‘What do you propose?’ said Masterson.
‘We stop taking contracts. From this moment on, we say no and our counteroffers must be a margin of what is being offered – so low that no one will take our offers, but enough to let them know we are still in business.’
‘Why?’ said Crowley.
‘Because each day a huge shipment of grain, sixty wagons being provided by Jacoby and Sons, is working its way to Krondor.’ He glanced at one of the offer sheets still on the table. ‘To be delivered at the docks in forty-nine days. Each day that passes, each day that goes without the buyer of that wheat having someone to sell it to, his concern will rise, for if that grain reaches Krondor before all of it is optioned, then that seller will have to dump it in the harbor. Eventually he will sell at our price, assuming that he will still break us.’
‘How do we counter this?’ said Hume.
‘We buy every contract in Krondor, gentlemen. If by the time the wheat reaches the city we own every kernel of wheat between here and Ylith, then we can ship the high-quality grain to the Free Cities and the Far Coast, recoup our investment, and make our profit.’
‘What do we do with the grain from Kesh?’ said Masterson.
‘We sell it to farmers for their stock, the army, whoever, as fodder. If we can merely break even on that grain, then the rest will make us wealthy beyond our ambition. Twenty-to-one, thirty-to-one – a hundred-to-one return on our investment.’
Masterson grabbed a pen and started scribbling. He worked in silence for nearly ten minutes. ‘Given what we’ve seen so far, we need at least another two hundred thousand sovereigns. Gentlemen, we need to attract more partners. See to it.’
Crowley and Hume hurriedly left the table and Master-son said, ‘Roo, I hope you’re correct.’
‘What price do we need to reach to make this a can’t-fail proposition?’
Jerome Masterson laughed. ‘If the grain was free, I wouldn’t say it was “can’t fail.” We need to store this grain, and if the shortage in the Free Cities doesn’t materialize, we may all be driving wagons for Jacoby and Sons before we’re done.’
‘I’ll sail back to hell before that,’ said Roo.
Masterson signaled a waiter and said, ‘Bring me my special cache of brandy and two glasses.’ To Roo he said, ‘Now we wait.’
Roo drank the brandy when it appeared and found it excellent.
Masterson looked at some of the pile of notes before him, and frowned.
‘What is it?’ asked Roo.
‘This doesn’t make much sense. I think it’s a mistake. We’re being offered the same contract, basically, twice by the same group.’ Then he nodded. ‘Ah, there it is. It’s easy to see why I made the mistake. It’s not the same group. It just looks like it.’
Roo turned his head, as if listening to something. ‘What did you just say?’
‘I said this group looks like that group,’ he said, pointing to the two notes.
‘Why?’
‘Because, save for one investor, they’re identical.’
‘Why would they do that?’
‘Because they’re greedy?’ suggested Masterson. He sighed. ‘Sometimes people offer contracts they have no intention of fulfilling, if they suspect the other party is going to go broke. If they take our money now, and we go under, they’ll just shrug when the contract is due. Whom do they deliver to? they’ll say.’ He shrugged. ‘It may be word is spreading we’re in trouble.’
‘Trouble,’ repeated Roo. Then a thought occurred to him. After a while a plan formed in his mind. Suddenly he said, ‘Jerome, I have it!’
‘What?’ said Masterson.
‘I know how we can not only turn this to our profit, but ruin those who are trying to ruin us.’ He realized he was speaking over the top, and said, ‘Well, if not ruin them, certainly cause them pain.’ Then he grinned. ‘But I do know how we’re going to make an obscene profit on this wheat business.’ He looked Masterson in the eye. ‘Even if there is no shortage in the Free Cities.’
Masterson was suddenly very attentive. Roo said, ‘I guarantee it.’