The rider reined in.
The farmers walking home from a long day tending their wheat were surprised as he turned his mount in their direction and approached. Without word they spread out and waited, for while it was peaceful times, the rider was obviously armed and one never knew what to expect of strangers.
The rider removed a large-brimmed hat, revealing himself to be a young man with curly brown hair. He smiled and it was also clear he was little more than a boy. ‘Greetings,’ he called.
The farmers responded with salutations of their own, little more than grunts. They resumed walking, for these tired workingmen didn’t have time to spend in idle chatter with some bored noble’s son out for an evening ride.
‘How goes the harvest?’ asked the youth.
‘Well,’ answered one of the farmers.
‘Have you set a price?’ asked the rider.
At this all the farmers stopped walking again. The boy was talking about the two things that interested these men most in the world: wheat and money.
‘Not yet,’ said the farmer. ‘The brokers from Krondor and Ylith won’t be here for another two or three weeks.’
‘How much do you want for your wheat?’ asked the boy.
Suddenly the farmers were silent, looking from one to another. Then one asked, ‘You look like no broker I’ve met. Are you a miller’s son?’
The young man laughed. ‘Hardly. My grandfather was a thief, if truth be told. My father … is in service to the Duke of Krondor.’
‘What’s your interest?’ asked another farmer.
‘I represent a man who is seeking to buy wheat, but who is anxious to set a price now.’
That set the farmers to talking low among themselves. After a minute, the farmer who had first spoken said, ‘This is unusual. We’re not even sure of the yields yet.’
The boy looked from face to face. Finally he pointed to one man and said, ‘How long have you farmed this land?’
The man said, ‘My entire life. It was my father’s field before me.’
‘Do you mean to say you don’t know to within a bushel how much grain that field will produce in a year like this?’
The man blushed and grinned. ‘Well, truth to tell, I can.’
‘So can you all,’ said the young man. ‘Here’s my offer: set us a price now, and you’ll be paid now. We’ll take delivery at harvest.’
The farmers looked amazed. ‘Get paid now?’ asked one.
‘Yes.’
Suddenly prices were being shouted so fast the rider couldn’t understand any. He said, ‘Enough!’ and held up his hand. He dismounted, held out his reins for a farmer, then pulled some writing instruments from his saddlebags.
The first farmer set a price for a thousand bushels of wheat and the rider nodded. He countered and the dickering was on. When they were done, he wrote down names on the parchment he had taken from his saddlebags. Next to each agreed-upon price and amount he had them make their marks, and then began to count out pieces of gold.
As the rider left, the farmers could not believe their luck. While the price wasn’t the best possible, it was fair, and they had the money now.
As Dash rode north, he felt sore in his back and shoulders. He had been to a dozen villages like this one over the last three days and knew that Duncan, Roo, and Luis were doing as he was. But he knew if he rode hard he could make the last village before Sarth just after sundown, which meant that after some dickering with the locals over wheat prices, he could pass along some messages to John Vinci for Roo, sleep a sound night in an inn, then return to Krondor in the morning.
He put heels to the flank of his mount and took her to a tired trot as the sun sank in the west.
As the week ended, four tired riders returned to Krondor and met at Roo’s warehouse. Dash grinned as he said, ‘If there’s a grain of wheat between here and Sarth we don’t own, it’s in some horse’s nosebag.’
Luis said, ‘The same from here to Land’s End.’
Duncan said, ‘I don’t know if I bought all the wheat between here and the Vale route, but I spent all the gold you gave me.’ He handed his cousin his list of farms and prices.
Roo said, ‘I did the same from here to the foothills.’ He looked at the accounts and said, ‘If this doesn’t work, we may want to reconsider joining the King’s Army.’
Dash said, ‘I have other options.’ With a grin, he added, ‘I hope.’
Roo said, ‘I have to get home and change. I’m dining with Jacob Esterbrook tonight.’
Dash and Duncan exchanged glances. Duncan’s face turned unreadable, while Dash just continued to grin. Jason asked, ‘Do you think Sylvia will be there?’
Roo smiled. ‘I’m counting on it.’
Luis’s brow furrowed at that, but he said nothing.
Roo left the shop and hurried home. He found Karli in the sitting room, rocking the baby and singing a tune to her. Roo halted and walked quietly into the room, seeing that the baby was sleeping.
Karli whispered, ‘She’s been fussy.’ Roo kissed his wife on the cheek. ‘Did your plan go well?’
‘We’ll know within a week.’
‘I would love to hear about it over supper. She should sleep awhile.’
Roo blushed. ‘In all the frenzy, I neglected to tell you I’m dining out tonight. I am sorry.’
Karli said, ‘You just got home.’
‘I know, but it’s important. More business.’
Karli said, ‘Business tonight?’
Roo’s exhaustion, his anxiety, and his impatience to see Sylvia Esterbrook again came together and caused him to speak more harshly than he had intended. ‘Yes! Business tonight! I’m having supper with one of the most important investors in the Kingdom!’
Abigail started awake and began to cry at her father’s loud voice. Karli’s eyes flashed anger, but her voice was a controlled hiss as she said, ‘Shush. You’ve woken your daughter.’
Roo waved his hand. ‘I’m sorry. Deal with her. I’ve got to clean up and change.’ Turning his back, he shouted, ‘Mary! I need a tub of hot water!’
His shout caused his daughter to cry even louder. Karli’s face was a mask of control, but her eyes never left her husband’s back as he vanished up the stairs to clean up for his dinner engagement.
Roo hurried, and despite having bathed he felt hot and sweaty under his new clothing. He paused before the gate to the Esterbrook house. He should have driven out in a hired carriage instead of riding out, he thought. Instead of showing up at the Esterbrook door calm and relaxed, he was nearly breathless.
He knocked and almost instantly the postern door in the gate opened and a groom stepped through. ‘Yes?’
‘I am Rupert Avery. I’m to dine with Mr Esterbrook,’ answered Roo.
‘Yes, sir,’ said the groom, and he disappeared through the small door. A moment later the gate swung wide.
Roo rode into the grounds of the Esterbrook estate and he was dutifully impressed. The house was located on a hillside on the eastern edge of the city, high enough above the next estate that it felt almost rural, though it had taken Roo only a half hour to ride there. The high stone wall had masked the house from his view as he had ridden up the narrow road, except for a small tower of some sort.
Now Roo could see that the tower was actually a constructed observation platform, with a small peaked roof, but with windows looking in four directions. Roo wondered why it was there, then considered it was a perfect place from which to observe the comings and goings at both the caravanserais to the southeast and ships in the harbor. Two moons had risen, and Roo saw a glint of metal and smiled to himself as he dismounted and handed the reins of his horse to the groom. Esterbrook must have one of those clever viewing glasses up there.
The house otherwise was what he had expected. Two stories in height, it was large, but not palatial by any measure. There were gardens, as Roo could smell blooms in the evening. Lights appeared at several windows and there were sounds of activity from within.
Roo knocked on the door and it opened a moment later. Expecting a servant, Roo was rendered nearly breathless by the sight of Sylvia Esterbrook herself answering his knock.
‘Mr Avery,’ she said with a smile that made his stomach hurt. She wore a deep-plunging gown that revealed she wasn’t quite as slender as Roo had thought. It was a pale blue designed to highlight her eyes.
She wore a necklace of diamonds and no other jewelry. Roo barely got ‘hello’ out as he stepped inside.
‘May I take your cloak?’ she asked.
Roo fumbled with the tie at his neck and then finally got the new cloak unfastened. ‘Father is waiting for you in his private room. Down the hall and to the left,’ she said, pointing out the way. ‘I’ll hang this up and see to supper.’
Roo watched as she vanished through a door to the right, and he forced himself to take a deep breath. Totally intoxicated by the sight of the girl, he knew that dealing with her father was as dangerous as going into combat.
Roo made his way along the hall, glancing through two open doors to see modest rooms with single beds, tables, and nightstands. Servant’s quarters? he wondered.
He reached the large door at the end of the hall, barely seen in the dim hallway – only a single candle on a table halfway along the hall’s length illuminated the way. From inside, a voice said, ‘Enter, please.’
Roo opened the large door and stepped inside. Jacob Esterbrook was rising from behind a large desk in the middle of what Roo could only consider a library. He had seen a room in the Prince’s palace once when he was training there that had as many books, and was astonished to discover that someone who wasn’t royalty had this many in his possession. The room was lit by a pair of candles, one on Esterbrook’s desk, and another on a reading stand set against the wall opposite the door, two pools of light in the otherwise dark library.
As he approached the desk, in the dim light Roo saw another figure standing near the wall. Then Roo saw there were two men in the darkness. They stepped forward and Roo’s hand reflexively went to his side, where his knife usually hung.
‘Now, now,’ said Esterbrook as if reassuring a pair of children. Into the light came Tim Jacoby, and a younger man, one who looked enough like him that he could only be his brother.
‘Mr Avery, I believe you’ve already met Timothy Jacoby. This other gentleman is his brother, Randolph.’ He glanced toward the door and said, ‘They were just leaving.’
Roo stood stiffly as if ready to defend himself. Tim Jacoby said nothing, but his brother said, ‘Mr Avery?’ with a nod of his head.
‘Mr Jacoby,’ Roo responded, nodding back. Neither man offered to shake the other’s hand.
Tim turned as they walked toward the door and said, ‘I will be in touch, Jacob.’
‘I expect you will, Timothy,’ said Esterbrook. ‘Give my regards to your father.’
‘I will,’ answered Tim.
Esterbrook said, ‘We took a bit longer to finish our business than I had anticipated. I’m sorry if their presence here caused you any alarm.’
Roo said, ‘It was unexpected.’
‘Sit,’ said Esterbrook, motioning Roo to a chair at the other side of his large desk. ‘We have a bit of time before Sylvia fetches us for supper.’
Esterbrook said, ‘I have made inquiries about you, young Avery.’ He sat back in his chair and folded his hands over his stomach. Roo had never seen him without his hat and saw the man was bald above his ears, but he let the rest of his grey hair hang to his collar in back. He affected long muttonchop sideburns, but otherwise was clean-shaven. A look of wry amusement passed over his face.
‘Your notion of importing bulk wine from Darkmoor had merit. I think it an enterprise worth pursuing. It’s too bad you ran afoul of the Mockers. Had I known about you, I could have saved you some loss and saved Sam Tannerson his life.’
Roo said, ‘I’m impressed at your knowledge of the details.’
Esterbrook made a gesture of dismissal with his right hand. ‘Information is valuable, but easy to come by if you have resources.’ He leaned forward and said, ‘Remember this: of all the commodities men trade in, information is the most valuable by far.’
Roo nodded. He wasn’t sure he fully understood what Esterbrook was saying, or if he agreed. He decided this wasn’t a debate or even a discussion but most likely a lecture.
‘Now, I hope that in the future you and Timothy Jacoby can put aside your differences, however deep the animosity runs, because I might find it difficult to do business with two men who are at any moment likely to kill each other.’
Roo said, ‘I wasn’t aware that we are doing business.’
Esterbrook smiled and there was nothing friendly or warm in it. ‘I think fate has touched you, young Avery. Certainly you have advanced to a station of some notice in a rapid fashion. Marrying Helmut Grindle’s daughter gave you some resources that most men your age would envy, but you’ve prospered far beyond that. Obviously you are well thought of in the palace. Mr Jacoby’s father was very upset that your company received the contract to transport goods to the palace; he thought he was the logical choice.
‘You’ve cut him badly, twice, I believe, in areas of less reputable trading.’
Roo was forced to laugh. ‘One thing I’ve learned, despite my youth, Mr Esterbrook, is not to admit anything.’
Esterbrook laughed, and this time there was genuine amusement in his reaction. ‘Very well said.’ He sighed. ‘Well then, whatever occurs, I hope we can all manage to work in harmony.’
Roo said, ‘I have a debt to pay, Mr Esterbrook, but you are not part of that.’
‘Well, at this point, no,’ said Esterbrook.
A knock came from the door and Roo was out of his chair as the door opened and Sylvia peeked through. ‘Supper is served.’
Esterbrook said, ‘We mustn’t keep the lady of the manor waiting.’
Roo shook his head but said nothing. He followed his host through the doorway, and Esterbrook motioned he should precede him. Roo followed Sylvia down the hall, and as they came into the well-lit antechamber at the entrance to the house, he found himself again captivated by how the candlelight played off her golden hair.
He followed her into the dining hall, his heart beating far too fast for the tiny bit of exertion walking to dinner entailed. He hardly noticed as he moved to a chair at a long table, with his host on his left at the head of the table, and Sylvia across from him. There was room for another seven people to sit at this table.
Roo said, ‘I have never seen a room like this.’
Esterbrook said, ‘It’s an idea I found in a description of a dining hall in a distant court, in one of the kingdoms down in the Keshian Confederacy. That king preferred intimate dining to the usual court chaos, and instead of sitting in the middle of the table, which would be to your right by two chairs, with everyone arrayed to his right and left, he decided to turn the table sideways, sit at one end, and be able to talk to everyone.’
Sylvia said, ‘We used to have this very large round table, and you’d have to shout across it to be heard by whoever sat opposite you.’
Roo smiled. ‘I like it.’ To himself he vowed to have one made just like this. Then he realized there was no room for a table this large in his small home. Suddenly he remembered the gamble he and his partners were taking, and realized that if they won, he would be able to build a house to match this one. He put aside his worry over what would happen should the gamble fail.
Conversation passed quickly, and Roo couldn’t remember half of what was said. Throughout the night he found himself working hard not to stare at Sylvia, but he couldn’t avoid it. She drew his eyes. By supper’s end he had memorized her features as if they were a map home. He knew every curve of her neck, the set of her lips, the slight imperfection of one tooth in front that was slightly turned and overlapped the one next to it, the only flaw in her beauty he could ascertain.
Without knowing how, he found himself at the door, bidding his host and hostess good night. Sylvia took his hand and held it tightly, moving up close to him so that his knuckles brushed lightly against the top of her breasts. ‘It’s been wonderful, Mr Avery. I hope you’ll visit us again, and very soon.’
Roo almost stammered as he promised he would call again. He turned and mounted his horse and rode slowly to the gate. He could only wonder at this magic thing that he felt, and from every indication he was amazed to discover that Sylvia Esterbrook was apparently pleased with his company.
As the gate closed behind him, Roo wondered at this improbable fact.
Sylvia waited until the door was closed and then moved to a window beside the door, watching as Roo rode off. Turning to her father, she said, ‘What do you think?’
Jacob Esterbrook replied, ‘A young man with unlikely promise.’
‘He’s certainly unattractive, though there’s a wit about him that’s charming enough, in a rat-faced sort of way,’ she said dryly. ‘But his hand was surprisingly strong.’ She tapped her teeth with her fingernail. ‘Those wry lads, they tend to have … great stamina.’
‘Sylvia,’ scolded her father, ‘you know I don’t like that sort of talk.’
Sweeping past her father as she made to climb the stairs to her bedroom, she said, ‘Father, you know what I am. You made me this way.’ She smiled at him over her shoulder. ‘Are you going to kill him?’
Esterbrook said, ‘I hope not to; he has wit, and from some of the things I’ve heard of his soldiering days, he has the ability to survive. He would make a better ally than foe, I think.’
Sylvia started to climb the stairs, ‘But that still doesn’t keep you from trying to ruin him.’
Esterbrook waved away the comment as he turned toward his library. ‘Ruining a man is far different from killing him. If he’s ruined in this wheat speculation, I may even offer him a position with one of my companies. Then I would not have to worry about a rising competitor, and he might be made a valuable asset.’
Sylvia vanished at the top of the stairs and Jacob walked back toward the library. To himself he said, ‘Besides, if I need to, I’ll have Tim Jacoby kill him.’
Roo sipped at his coffee. It was his fifth or sixth cup of the day and he was drinking from habit, not any enjoyment of the drink.
Dash hurried up the stairs to the table where Roo sat with his partners. ‘Message for you.’
He handed a note to Roo. The gem buyer in Salador had offered a price lower than Roo hoped for, but not too low to make Roo consider shopping for a better deal. He quickly calculated and said, ‘Reply by fast rider. Forward the gold at once.’
Dash said, ‘And Duncan says there’s starting to be some rumblings around the inn. A miller was overheard last night, while he was getting drunk, saying that he has no wheat to grind because the farmers aren’t bringing it into the city.’
Roo nodded. ‘Keep me informed.’
Dash hurried away and Roo said, ‘It’s starting.’
Masterson nodded and signaled for a waiter to come to the table. The young man did and Masterson wrote out a note and handed it to the waiter. ‘Take this down to the floor, please. It’s for Mr Amested.’
Roo sighed. ‘How are we doing?’
Masterson said, ‘We are now in debt, or have paid out six hundred thousand golden sovereigns’ worth of wheat options. You have created the largest single seizure of wheat in the history … of the world!’ He ran his hand over his face. ‘I doubt there’s a grain of wheat between Malac’s Cross and the Far Coast that’s not going to show up at the city gates in the next two weeks with our name on it. We’d better have guessed right, Roo.’
Roo smiled. ‘None of you would have gone along with my plan if you didn’t realize it would work.’ He hiked his thumb toward the floor below. ‘It all turns on one fact, Jerome. Everyone here, including you and me, is a greedy bastard.’
Masterson laughed. ‘There’s more truth in that than not, Roo.’ He leaned forward. ‘Truth to tell, when I was a boy I cut purses for a living. Got a chance to go straight and I did, in the army, during the Great Uprising. I was little more than a kid, but like every man serving, I got the King’s pardon. I decided to turn my hand to honest business, and found that the biggest difference between honest business and dishonest is in how you approach your mark.’ He leaned back. ‘Oh, it’s not like I’m taking everything a fellow has, and if we work well together, we both end up making money, but often it’s just as vicious as if I cut his purse and ran through the market.’
Roo said, ‘Where are we with price?’
‘We’re steady at three silver pieces for ten bushels against a six percent guarantee.’
Roo said, ‘I’m too tired to calculate the numbers. How much do we stand to make?’
Masterson said, ‘I have no idea. We still need grain buyers from the Free Cities to show up and start running up the price.’
‘Not for a few more days, I hope,’ said Roo. ‘We still need to buy a few more cheap options.’ He lowered his voice. ‘Duncan reports word is starting to spread that wheat from the outlying farms isn’t coming in. In a few days no one will be making offers. We need to finish this today, by tomorrow at the latest.’
‘I’m out of gold, and I’ve put up everything I own as security to the moneylenders,’ said Masterson. He laughed. ‘I should be scared to death, but the truth is I haven’t felt this happy since I was a boy running through the city with the City Watch hot on my tail!’
Roo said, ‘I know what you mean. It’s … like putting your life on the line for one toss of the knucklebones.’
‘Never cared for dice,’ said Masterson. ‘Always preferred cards. Lin-lan or pokiir. You against the other fellows.’
Roo said, ‘I’ve got gold coming from Salador. Another ten thousand, if we need it.’
‘We’re going to need it,’ said Hume, who had just walked up. ‘We’re so overbought now we don’t have the coppers to pay for our coffee.’ He leaned over. ‘Keep it on you, in case we all need to make a quick escape.’
Roo laughed. ‘I don’t think that’s going to happen. Any minute I expect we’ll see what we’ve all been waiting for, and when that happens …’ He grinned. He held out his hand, palm up, then suddenly closed it, saying, ‘We have them!’
A few minutes later a waiter appeared with two notes. Masterson opened the first one and said, ‘Amested’s agreed and he’s in for ten thousand. He is just about popping to know what we’re doing, gentlemen.’
Crowley walked over and sat down. ‘What’s that? Amested’s?’
‘Yes, he’s in,’ said Masterson.
‘What’s the other note?’ asked Roo.
Masterson opened it and read it, then grinned. ‘Here it is.’
‘What does it say?’ demanded Crowley impatiently.
‘A syndicate is offering us thirty thousand bushels at two silver for three bushels secured by a ten percent option.’
Roo slammed his hand on the table. ‘It’s them. It has to be. The greedy bastards couldn’t resist. They’re ours.’
Masterson did some calculations. ‘Not quite.’ He sat back, blowing out his breath, his cheeks puffing out. ‘We don’t have enough gold.’
Roo groaned. ‘How short are we?’
Masterson calculated. ‘We could use that ten thousand gold pieces you have coming from Salador.’
‘Is that enough?’
‘Almost,’ said Masterson. ‘But we’d still be two thousand gold short.’
Roo groaned. ‘I need to get out of here.’ He stood up. ‘I’ll think of something.’
He left his companions and walked down the stairs through the heart of the coffee house. He stepped outside and found the streets relatively uncrowded. Catching sight of the house where he had hidden the silk that launched his career, he crossed the street, avoiding puddles. It had rained hard the night before, which was partially responsible for the light traffic in the city.
Reaching the porch of the abandoned house, Roo saw that no one had replaced the broken hasp on the lock he had forced. Whoever owned the place had merely stuck the screws back into the stripped-out holes as if the sight of the lock on the door would keep the curious out. As there was nothing inside worth stealing, thought Roo as he pushed open the door, it was probably a safe bet.
He wandered through the house, again finding some sense of place there. He hadn’t said anything to Karli, but when he was rich he intended to buy this house. Having quarters close to Barret’s was appealing to him, for he had already decided that while the freight company would be the heart of his business empire, it would be only one of many ventures he would embark on.
Trading at Barret’s was like nothing he had ever encountered before; it was gambling on a scale undreamed of by any soldier losing his pay in an alehouse. It was intoxicating, and Roo was drunk with possibilities.
He sat there a long time, listening to the rain when it came, and the sounds of the city, as the light faded and the day trailed off. When at last he decided he needed to return, it was near sundown.
He left the house and crossed the street to find Dash waiting for him. Dash said, ‘Luis says the first load of wheat has shown up. One of the villages outside of Land’s End harvested early.’
Roo swore. ‘Do we have room for it in our warehouse?’
‘Barely, if we push everything else outside into the yard and street.’
Roo said, ‘This could turn ugly. We don’t have the gold to rent storage at the docks and there’s no ship in from the Free Cities.’
‘There is,’ said Dash.
‘What?’ asked Roo.
‘We’ve got word of a Free Cities trader docking at noon. I’ve been looking for you for hours to tell you.’
Roo’s eyes widened and he said, ‘Then come with me!’
He hurried to the docks on foot, breaking out into a trot when traffic opened, and Dash kept up with him. As they reached the docks, Roo said, ‘Where’s the ship?’
Dash said, ‘Out at anchor. There.’ He pointed.
Roo said, ‘The master must be at customs. Come on.’
They hurried to the customs shed and found a busy clerk going over documents, while two very impatient men waited nearby. Roo said over the counter, ‘Has the master of the Free Cities ship been in?’
The clerk looked up and said, ‘What?’
One of the two waiting men said, ‘Aye, he has, and he’s still waiting for that stone-headed clerk to sign off on his paperwork so he can turn his cargo over to his buyer,’ and he pointed to the man next to him.
Roo said, ‘I have cargo for the Free Cities, if you’re unbooked.’
The Captain said, ‘Sorry, lad, but I am booked. I have letters of credit and authorizations to secure cargo. My employer was most emphatic about this.’ He lowered his voice. ‘If it’s a tiny bit of cargo, I might be able to squeeze it in, but otherwise I’m instructed to fill my ship with grain and hurry back as fast as possible.’
Roo grinned. ‘Grain?’
‘Aye, lad. Wheat. I’m to purchase high-quality wheat at a fair market price, then leave as quickly as possible.’ He glowered at the clerk. ‘Which is why I’d like this business done as soon as possible so I can let my lads go ashore. They’ve been at sea three weeks, and we’ll be here but a day or two.’
‘Who have you contacted for your wheat?’ asked Roo.
‘No one yet, though I fail to see how that is any business of yours.’
Rupert stood and said, ‘Captain, I forgot my manners. I am very sorry. May I be allowed to introduce myself and my companion.’ He turned to Dash and said, ‘This is my associate, Dashel Jameson, grandson to the Duke of Krondor.’ He put his hand on his chest as the Captain and his buyer both rose at the mention of the Duke. ‘And I am Rupert Avery, of the Krondor Grain Traders Association.’ Almost unable to contain himself, he said, ‘How much grain do you need?’
‘Enough to fill a ship, Mr Avery.’
Roo turned to Dash. ‘Is what arrived today enough to fill his ship?’
Dash said, ‘I think so.’
Roo said, ‘Good. To price: what do you offer?’
The Captain said, ‘You have the wheat here, in Krondor?’
‘Yes, I can have it at the docks at first light.’
The Captain got a calculating look on his face. Roo knew what he was thinking: if he could grab the wheat before word got around about the shortage, he might make enough of a profit for the ship’s owner to make it worth having his crew forgo any shore leave. At last he said, ‘I’m prepared to offer two silver pieces of common weight’ – the agreed-upon size of the coins used to trade between the Free Cities – ‘for three bushels of wheat at dockside tomorrow.’
Roo said, ‘I’ll take a silver per bushel.’
‘Three silvers per four bushels,’ said the Captain.
Roo said, ‘I’ll take a silver and a copper per bushel.’
‘Wait a minute!’ exploded the Captain. ‘You just set a price of a silver per. Now you raise it?’
‘Yes,’ said Roo, ‘and in a minute it will be a silver and two coppers.’ Then he leaned forward and said very quietly, ‘Locusts.’
The Captain’s face flushed and he looked as if someone had just lit a fire in his trousers, but after glaring at Roo a long moment, he stuck out his hand and said, ‘Done! A silver and copper per bushel at dockside at first light.’
Roo turned and put his hand on Dash’s shoulder and steered him out of the customs house. ‘It’s going to work,’ he said when they had cleared the street.
The next morning the wagons paraded to the docks, unloading the grain onto barges that carried it out to the ship. The Captain and Roo both stood by comparing tallies, while stevedores hauled the large sacks of grain off the wagons and carried them down the gangplanks to the barges.
By midday the tally was done and the two men compared figures. Roo knew the Captain was intentionally counting light and showed six less bushels than Roo. For slightly more than a half-piece of gold, Roo thought he’d let the Captain have his little triumph. ‘I’ll accept your figure, Captain.’
The Captain motioned to his mate, who produced a chest, out of which the Captain counted sacks of gold. He let Roo inspect the contents of each bag, and when the transaction was done, Roo handed the contents to Duncan, who stood nearby with a chest that would be taken to the counting-house where Roo now had his accounts established.
As they led the now empty wagons from the dock, Roo rode next to Duncan on the lead wagon. He felt an elation unlike anything he had known in his life. ‘It’s going to work,’ he said to no one.
‘What?’ asked Duncan.
Roo couldn’t contain himself any longer. He laughed long and hard, then whooped. He said, ‘I’m going to be a very wealthy man, cousin.’
‘How very nice for you,’ said Duncan dryly. Roo didn’t notice his cousin’s lack of enthusiasm.
The floor of the coffee house was in chaos. Grown men screamed at one another and several fights had to be broken up by waiters. McKeller could be heard saying, ‘Gentlemen, gentlemen, please, remember yourselves!’ several times.
Roo had one man hurl himself across a table at him, and his battle training served him well as the man found only air where Roo had stood a moment before. The man knocked himself nearly senseless when he struck his chin on a chair.
Taking the steps two at a time, Roo found a pair of waiters protecting the upper floor from those not authorized to mount the steps. Not that the upstairs was much quieter than down below, but at least there was no brawling. Grown men seemed on the verge of breaking down in tears or screaming in frustration. Roo pushed past two angry men to find several more at tableside, confronting an equally angry-looking Masterson.
‘I don’t care what you say,’ screamed Masterson at a pair of men who leaned over the table, their hands pressing hard into the wood. ‘You signed the note, you provide the wheat, or pay the market price. You have three days!’
One of the men looked enraged, but the other looked ready to beg. ‘I can’t. Please. I’ll have to sell everything I’ve ever acquired. I’ll be penniless.’
Masterson’s temper seemed on the verge of getting the best of him. ‘You should have thought of that before you sold me wheat you didn’t have title to!’
Roo took him by the arm and over his shoulder said, ‘Excuse me, gentlemen, we’ll be back in a moment.’
‘What?’ asked Jerome, still angry.
Roo tried to keep a straight face and, failing, turned his back to the others around the table so they wouldn’t see him grinning. ‘How much?’
Masterson said, ‘They owe us two hundred thousand bushels of wheat, and they don’t own any!’ Then he suddenly realized whom he was talking to, and started to snicker. Covering his face with the back of his hand, he feigned coughing. ‘I don’t care much for Meany over there, and his cousin Meaks isn’t much better. Thought I’d let them sweat a bit.’
‘Are they involved with Jacoby?’ asked Roo, keeping his voice down.
‘No,’ answered Jerome. ‘Not as far as I can tell. I did what you requested and ferreted out every syndicate or association that I thought had Jacoby participation, and they’re not among them.’
Roo said, ‘I’ve been thinking. We can’t ruin every investor in Krondor, else we’ll have no one to do business with. What do these two do?’
Masterson suddenly grinned. ‘Meany has a lovely little mill he manages badly, and Meaks a bakeshop that does a tidy business not far from here. Mostly they speculate, and only on a modest scale.’ He whispered. ‘Someone must have put the word out there was going to be a bloodletting. I’ve got notes here from people two or three times over, far more than they’re worth if they default.’
Roo nodded. ‘Well, if we take Krondor Grain Traders and turn it into a permanent syndicate, it wouldn’t hurt our position in future to have a few businesses we own to constantly generate gold. Would you like to own a share in a bakery and mill?’
Masterson rubbed his chin. ‘Not a bad notion. You and I with Crowley and Hume need to sit and discuss this. We can bully out those other partners who came late, but Brandon Crowley and Stanley Hume were with us from the start.’
‘Agreed,’ said Roo. He turned and went back to the table. ‘Mr Meany?’ he asked.
The angrier of the two men said, ‘Yes?’
‘As I understand it, you don’t have the wheat you contracted to deliver to us at the agreed-upon price?’
‘You know I don’t!’ shouted Meany. ‘Someone went out and bought up every grain from here to Great Kesh! I’ve word from every grain buyer in the Principality there is no wheat for sale anywhere! How can we meet these contracts if we can’t buy grain?’
Roo said, ‘An unfortunate circumstance to find yourself in.’
The other man, Meaks, said, ‘Please. If we’re forced to account on the due date, we’ll be ruined. I have a family!’
Roo pretended to think upon it, then said, ‘We’ll consider taking your note.’
No sooner were those words out of his mouth than Meaks was saying, ‘Oh, thank you, sir!’ His relief brought him to the edge of tears.
Meany said, ‘You will?’
‘At a reasonable rate of interest, and we may require property as …’ Roo glanced at Masterson and whispered, ‘What’s the word?’
Masterson said, ‘Collateral.’
‘… collateral. Prepare a list of your holdings and return here on the due date, and we’ll work something out. Can’t have your family out on the streets now, can we?’ said Roo pointedly to Meaks.
The two men left and Roo began dealing with the men who were coming in before the due date to plead for more time because there was no grain to buy. He noticed the notes Masterson had set aside for him to peruse, and made a mental list of the names on them. Not one of those men came to see him.
At the end of the day, Roo and his three partners, along with Sebastian Lender, sat down. Roo said, ‘Gentlemen, I propose we form a standing company.’
Crowley said, ‘Say on.’
‘We have, according to Jerome, managed to achieve the single most stunning manipulation of any market in the Western Realm in the history of Barret’s.’
Lender said, ‘I think that is a safe assessment.’
Jerome said, ‘Well, none of us would have expected it to turn out the way it had.’
Roo said, ‘My point is that we’ve done as well as we did because you gentlemen were steadfast. Lesser men would have broken and run.’
Crowley looked unconvinced, but Hume appeared pleased at the remark.
‘I was a soldier for two terrible years,’ said Roo, ‘and I understand the incalculable benefit of having men at your back you can trust.’ He looked from face to face. ‘I trust you four men.’
Crowley looked genuinely moved at that.
Roo said, ‘I propose we keep our newfound wealth pooled, and form a new company, one as diverse and widespread as any seen before.’ In his mind he knew he was proposing the formation, overnight, of a company to rival Jacob Esterbrook’s far-flung holdings.
Crowley said, ‘And you will preside over that company?’ There was a note of suspicion in his voice.
‘No,’ said Roo. ‘I’m still new at this, and while I think I have a knack for this sort of business, I also know that we got lucky.’ He started to laugh. ‘I doubt anyone will sell a grain contract in the Kingdom for a long time without having purchased the grain in advance.’
The others laughed in return.
‘No,’ said Roo, ‘I was thinking you should preside, Brandon.’ It was the first time he had used Crowley’s first name.’
‘Me?’ asked Crowley, obviously surprised.
‘Well,’ said Roo, turning to Jerome, ‘Mr Masterson and I have, shall we say, less than pristine histories.’ Masterson laughed at that. ‘And while I respect Mr Hume, it seems to me you’re the senior member here. Your age and experience would serve us well. I propose that you preside, and Mr Hume could act as the company’s second officer. I will be content to be but one of four partners. I will conduct a fair bit of business on my own, outside the company. Running Avery and Sons will take some of my time. And I expect we’ll all have undertakings we will wish to pursue outside the company. But we’re about to be confronted with many, many men who will not be able to meet the notes they sold us.’ He outlined his discussion with Masterson and his offer to Meaks and Meany. ‘We could end up with shared interests in dozens of businesses scattered around the Bitter Sea. For that reason, gentlemen,’ he said to them all, ‘I propose that this day we found the Bitter Sea Trading and Holding Company.’
Masterson slammed his hand down on the table. ‘Damn me if you’re not a shooting star, Roo Avery! I’ll ride with you.’
Hume spoke next. ‘I will join with you; yes, I will.’
After a moment Brandon Crowley said, ‘Presiding Officer?’ He nodded. ‘Very well, I will join with you also.’
Roo said, ‘Mr Lender, would you be so kind as to execute an agreement to this effect?’
‘I would be pleased, Mr Avery.’
Masterson rubbed his hands together. ‘I think, gentlemen, it is time for a drink.’ He turned his head and shouted to a nearby waiter to bring his private brandy and five glasses.
When the drinks were poured and each man held one, Masterson said, ‘To Mr Rupert Avery, without whose tenacity and conviction not only would we not soon be very wealthy men, we’d probably be begging in the street.’
Roo said, ‘No. Please. Each of us here is due some credit. I would rather we toast’ – he held up his glass – ‘the Bitter Sea Trading and Holding Company!’
Each man in turn said the name of the new company, and as one, they drank a toast.