《Scorched - The Winter Winds (LitRPG)》Chapter 29: The Cruel Cut of a Merchant

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They were back in the training room, Frank working on his staff while Deli took a break and chatted with some of the other warriors. Not a break while she was training, a break from it, to brag.

“Come on, Frank, we’ve caught a Strongarm! Now is the time to celebrate!” she told him.

He agreed, today was a day to celebrate. But that was for tonight. It would be silly to get drunk in the middle of the day, especially since their party had scattered, after the trades were done.

Still, it was fine. Deli basking in retelling her fight was doing her some good, and would improve their reputations. He left her to it, while he practiced. She was a better storyteller anyway.

***

Noon bell hadn’t sounded yet, when a runner found them. The boy told them there was some kind of problem with their orders. Frank would have been fine going alone, but Deli reluctantly pulled herself away from her admirers. Plenty of kids wanted to hear the story for themselves.

They made their way over the main kitchen of the Reclaimers, meeting with the Master Cook again.

“My apologies, Frank, but I cannot help you. Deathless has ordered all parts of the catch reserved for Reclaimer use, under the Right of First Refusal. I will still brew you the bloodskin you brought in yourselves. I’m afraid for the rest you will have to speak with his second.” Gurt told them, regretful.

Which meant they were being screwed over, as the Health Brew was what both he and Brar wanted most. Frank knew the voice of a servant saying it was out of their hands, so he thanked the man and left, Deli on his heels.

She went one way, he the other. At least, for the first few steps. She caught up quick.

“Frank? The Reclaimer’s barracks are that way?” She pointed back where she’d gone.

“We’re not going to them.” He informed her.

“Why not?”

“Because our agreement is with the caravan, and its Master. And we weren’t there when the lease was struck for our stays.” Frank explained.

“Can’t we solve this ourselves?” Deli asked, loath to rely on others.

“Nine times out of ten we could just walk up to them. But on the tenth, someone will screw you. I’m not walking in there without knowing my rights. Then we can go talk to him.”

Deli mulled that over. She wasn’t entirely happy with him, but she came anyway.

She did warn him that: “You’re doing a disservice to the warriors who’ve been keeping everyone safe, including us.”

“It’s not them that worry me.” Frank replied. “It’s the people above them.”

***

The Master Merchant wasn’t available to just see them, having gone out on some errand, but his wife was sitting in, and willing to hear them out.

“I do not think we can contest it.” She told them. “As Landkarl in all but name, Deathless has every right to invoke the Right of First Refusal. He and his can certainly use the Health Brew themselves, so it is no false need. So long as they pay at least standard market rates, they’ve every right to buy you out, Frank.”

“That’s what I was afraid off.” Frank sighed. Supply and demand weren’t quite the same, here. But they still applied, and Health Brew in Blighttown was probably a lot more expensive than one bought in a full on town. But that was probably all he could hope for, with “standard market rates”.

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“This Right, it applies to everyone, everything?” He asked to confirm.

“All of his own warriors. Our own Hunters agreed when my Rashar bargained for our stay. He has Right of First Refusal for anything they bring in.”

Frank slumped. That was that then.

Deli however, after staying quiet for most of the talk, spoke up: “But they didn’t bring it in, we did.”

The merchant was not amused by her claim. “I have eyes, young warrior. Their party went out, and they brought it. You may have found the monster, but-“

“No!” Deli cut her off, flushing right after at the truly unimpressed look it got her.

She bowed in apology, but pushed on: “Mistress, we fought and slew it on our own. The four of us. We only called after for carrying. We brought it down.” Her axestaff thumped against the floor.

The middle-aged woman looked between them, slightly surprised. But still shook her head. “I do not think that makes much difference, except to speak well of your prowess Deli Surefoot. Your Hunter is of the Reclaimers and so is your Shield Guard.”

“No he isn’t.” Frank pointed out, surprised she didn’t know. Brar had switched only yesterday, but still, the rumours around here were fairly quick.

“Took you up on your offer, did he?” She drawled, to which Frank nodded.

“That still leaves the Hunter to claim your catch.” She mused. “As it was a patrol outside the walls, it is still a potent claim.”

Frank tilted his head in thought, before reminding himself to do the left and right head shift. “Actually, Deli? Do you remember, didn’t she say no one would take her? Officially, formally?”

“She did.” Deli confirmed.

The merchant woman didn’t blink or really show a large shift, but Frank could read the sudden appearance of a glint in her eye.

“Well now. That might change things. Boy!” A runner came up, within a breath. “Confirm that Brar the Stout has severed his obligations to the Reclaimer Company amicably, and that…” she pointed at Frank.

“Lilijah of no Name.”

“Lilijah of no Name isn’t on their lists as a member. Be quick about it.”

The boy ran off.

Frank got up, not wanting to be here if things blew up. “Well, we’ll leave you to it. If you need us-“

“You will stay.” She said, and while it wasn’t an order, there was an edge of warning to it.

“My husband will want to speak to you in person before raising the matter with our hosts.”

“Now I’m stuck here. Wonderful. At least something is being done.”

Frank sat back down. In the hall.

***

The noon bell had come and gone. A number of runners came in and out of what was, in practice, the Master Merchant’s office. He himself had come, spoken to both of them, and gone out to speak to the Reclaimer second afterwards. They were still stuck there waiting on the news. Lilijah, her caretaker and Brar had joined them.

The caravan leader had spoken with them too.

Lilijah was mulish, her firekeeper elder concerned and wringing his hands again. Brar was napping, which told Frank they probably had nothing to worry about. Probably.

It just might take a while.

He’d taken to carving, if not empowering anything, and Deli had eventually given in, taking up her weaving kit.

Lilijah was playing with her axe. She’d tell him she was taking care of it, if asked, but Frank understood the truth. Her axe was fine. It was a nervous habit with her, to inspect, oil, and polish her weapons.

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Finally, the Master Merchant returned. He did so with a harsh frown. Upon seeing them still there, he blinked, his face clearing in a moment.

“Forgive me, I’d thought I sent a runner. All is well, and everyone will be getting their agreed upon shares, as was Bargained with Ruter. The Reclaimers have posted an offer to all, they will pay handsomely for any Health Brew you might spare. That is all.”

With that, he walked right past them, heading for his office. Frank grabbed his sleeve. He never would have done it in the Empire, but he’d seen plenty of merchants do it here, to get his attention.

The Master Merchant stopped, frowning at him.

Frank let go. “All due respect, good Master, I have questions.”

The man started to scoff, but halted. His eyes roamed over the party. Brar slept through it all, but woke up just from the look given. Lilijah’s spine straightened under the regard, as if someone had rammed a rod up her spine. Deli squared her shoulders and faced it openly, almost defiantly.

It washed over Frank, with barely a ripple. He’d had worse. Much worse. “Never met the actual Emperor, thank the Gods, but I’ve met a member of the Imperial Family. You have nothing on him, merchant man.”

It was a penetrating look. After considering them all, he spoke shortly. “You are free to depart. Leadership only.” With that, he walked into his office. Frank followed.

Deli came after him. He turned to ask her what she was doing, but she barely entered the room itself. Instead she took up a position by the door. When the Master Merchant gave her a sharp glance, her axestaff thumped on the floor, as she leaned on the wall by the door. Standing there like some ceremonial guard.

“You sworn, woman?”

“I am.”

“Your silence, on your Oath.”

“You have it.”

Frank watched the byplay, unwilling to interrupt. He didn’t follow all the nuance of it, but got the broad strokes. Deli was here to observe, and just in case. Not to participate. The merchant waved him on, and they both took seats, his wife serving them cups. She fetched Clearwater and mead. Frank took her up on the mead. Deli was offered none, but if anything, seemed pleased about it.

Frank wasn’t sure what that was all about. He could guess, but he had other concerns.

While the Master Merchant, “Rashar, finally got his name.”, sipped his drink, Frank took a gulp of his. It was just as nice the n-th time as it was the first. The Confederation made good mead.

“To get it out of the way, our shares of the Health Brew are ours to do with as we see fit?”

“It is so.” The man told him, gazing lovingly at his wife. She returned it, though hers was somewhat more… heated. He chuckled at that.

“Deathless made a mistake.” The man went on. Frank hadn’t even asked yet.

“Oh don’t pull that face on me young man, I can read the interest clearly. You want to know what, why and how. You always have.”

The merchant shook his head. “Troublesome in most youths, but admirable for a mage. Necessary, I’m told.” he mused. “Even if it gets you into plenty of trouble.” He chuckled again.

Frank didn’t mind. He was aware of the risks being curious brought. It was the chuckle behind him that bothered him. Deli was supposed to be on his side.

“Yes, well, I’m aware I’m a tiny boat in a big sea. I prefer to keep a sharp eye out for any currents that might drown me.” Frank told him.

“Or throw you on the rocks, as it were?” The Master Merchant asked, knowingly.

“I find your concerns unwarranted. Old Deathless was doing his part to make sure you were a proper party leader.” the man claimed.

“A trial then?”

“Something like it.” The merchant mused. “Not many would have gone straight to my wife.” he probed.

“I went to you. She was just the one available.”

“Even so.”

Frank felt like some kind of question was on the table, but he wasn’t sure which one.

“Seemed foolish to me.” He elaborated as the silence stretched, until it was uncomfortable. “To go to them, when they were the ones taking it. As I understand the web of obligations, our is to you, and yours to us. It is only through that, that we have any to them, and them to us. Or so I understand.”

For just a moment, the Master Merchant’s lips twitched upwards.

“Well reasoned, if oblique. It is to be expected. You are an Empire man, after all.” The man shrugged, as if the whole thing was unimportant.

Frank didn’t correct him.

“It’s your leaving Frank.” He told him. “You weren’t among the caravan when we arrived. I felt obligated by your performance and service to leave a clause to include you and Deli if you showed up. But it was under the same conditions as the other pilgrims.”

Frank thought about it, for a little while. “But I started taking up guard duties.”

“You Bargained your own deal with one of the Company leaders. He offered the same one our guards got, but you Bargained for another.”

Frank thought back on it. “The loot rules on the patrol contract.” He realised. Technically, they’d been on patrol.

“Just so.” The Master Merchant confirmed. “Our Guards and Hunters have agreements with Deathless and his Reclaimers, agreements that cover the Right of First Refusal. I ceded it, for other considerations.” He waved the matter away, as if it was nothing.

“But I never did.”

“You never did Frank. Neither did the other two parties that have formed this winter. It is custom, to allow new parties to rise from their success. If they are willing to put in the work, and take risks for it.” He elaborated.

“It has meant more patrols for you and yours. Worse ones, often late at night, or early, before sun up. Without aid, or another group to patrol with you.”

Frank remembered the ambush in the tower.

“It was a risk, and a foolish one to my mind.” The man judged. “Not the other patrols, but this one. Yet you’ve won, and victory needs no excuse. I suppose congratulations are in order.”

“But then, why did he order the Brew taken?” Frank wondered.

“Because the party leader you Bargained with never told the Captain. Not of the deal, nor that you were not one of our guards.” The Master Merchant informed him. “Deathless is tearing his hide out for that, as we speak. He’s made him look a fool. A grubby one at that.”

The man shook his head, suddenly allowing his tiredness to show. “But it took a while, to clear up the misunderstanding.” The merchant grimaced. “Warrior Leaders.” He said, and it was like a curse. “Powerful ones in particular. Disagreeing with them can get unpleasant.” he warned Frank. He didn’t have to. Frank had disagreed with plenty. It never got easier.

His wife came up and wrapped her hands around his head, pressing it to her chest. She kissed the top of it, and the merchant returned a kiss on one of her hands, before waving her away with a grateful look.

“But that’s my lot, not yours. Anything else?”

Frank almost got up, but one thing still bugged him.

“Why does he need it so badly anyway?” He found himself asking. “Lilijah said they brought everything they needed.”

The merchant gave him a considering look. “Deli, do check the door.”

Immediately, she swung around and pulled it open. No one was there, but for a few startled runners, lingering in the hall, well away from the door. She closed it.

“Good, good.” The Master Merchant murmured.

He considered Frank for another breath. “You will be keeping this to yourself, yes?”

“Of course.” Frank promised.

Frank felt the man weigh him for another few moments, before shaking his head in denial.

“Empire.” was the only thing he said, and waved him away.

Frank got up, disappointed, but he understood. Empire indeed. Deli interrupted his leaving:

“If it should matter, good Master, he is a good man. Soft-hearted and arrogant at times, but I have found him to be straightforward in his dealings, if bull-headed.”

He considered them both for it.

“It speaks well of you, that your sworn hand would defend you so. But it is not merely trust. It is, to be blunt, none of your business.” The Master Merchant told them frankly, and that was that.

His wife escorted them out.

***

It kept bugging him, until Frank decided to visit Brar in the afternoon, just to try and figure it out. He didn’t speak of the meeting, only asked why the Reclamation might need more Health Brew. Frank had several theories, and few of them were good.

Brar wouldn’t speculate. He did share that: “We lost a few good warriors to the push to rescue that Demonspawn. To slay the rogue Warlock. Plenty of Health, too. It had to be done, but it was costly. It might be, that they’ve not recovered well from it. I haven’t gone down in days. It may cause delays. Now that I think on it, we did take more ground as well. Plan was, to do that in stages. I don’t think we’re, they, are supposed to be that close to the middle of town. Not this soon, while the dead are all riled up.”

Frank sketched out a map of the town, with known positions and patrol routes to try and figure it out for himself. He knew that if he had Strategy now, it would be going off. More ground was a good thing, wasn't it?

After a while he had an answer, if not one he was sure off. Attrition.

Each warrior lost was more pressure on the rest. And while the addition of the Caravan Guards and Hunters had helped with that, they only helped on the surface. Below, where the real work of the Reclaimers was fought, they were on their own. More, with the distorted edge going into the heart of town, their lines had almost doubled in length. Which meant more need for guards, more patrols, more Health attrition. All the while each man lost in the endeavour reduced their overall daily Health recovery and fresh dead born of the winter winds battered away at them, topside.

They could hold out. Perhaps, indefinitely, with some reinforcements in spring. At least until the taint forced them out. But Frank wondered how close to the edge they were, in terms of actually completing the Reclamation.

If confidence was high, they could cede the cleared ground and get back to the plan. Or adapt around it. But that wasn’t what they were doing, from what Frank heard in the rumours. They were doggedly holding at least some of the retaken tunnels.

That might be because, if they started retreating, it would strike a heavy blow against the confidence of its members that the whole thing would succeed. If it did, come spring, rather than reinforcements, there would be those that would leave with their winnings so far. Starting a morale death spiral.

Because people no longer believed in winning, they’d leave. As they did, more members would be disheartened and follow, until it turned into a self-fulfilling prophecy of failure.

Frank was in another world, but he felt like he might have been looking at a stock market. One where the Reclaimer Company was taking on water, and the crash might be coming. His catch and the entire mess over it had just sent up smoke signals into the skies of the rumour mill, for those able to read them.

When the crash came, it would take down the entire futures market of the token economy. None of them would be worth “more someday.” And everyone who had bet on them being so, would see their fortunes plummet as well. Frank did not want to be here for that.

“Frank?” Deli asked, blissfully oblivious to the shitstorm they might have set off. He didn’t bother telling her about it. He already knew what she would say. Deathless would either weather the storm, or he wouldn’t. Either way, it was his company, his mistake, and his responsibility to deal with it. Not theirs.

He could almost hear her say: ”If the whole Reclamation fails because of it, so be it.”

Frank agreed with her.

Mostly.

It wasn’t his job to fix that. It was too big and he was still cursed, damn it!

Besides, he had other fish to fry. The first batch of the Brew wouldn’t be ready for days, but Frank had Bargained for some exchange in kind. To get a few of the finished ones in stock already, before the Day of Challenge. He’d drink one before the evening celebrations. Get a handle on how effective it was, compared to the Empire’s expensive alchemical potions.

Those regained Health in a minute or two, maybe five, six breaths? Their effectiveness varied, depending on the Body of the drinker. Frank used to get about 16 Health, from each one. It varied, as everything here did.

“And after that, a visit to Quel and Katri. The Day of Challenge is coming, and I think I have an opportunity both of them will jump on.”

It was the afternoon of Presence Falling, the fourth day of the last quarter of the year. Day after tomorrow would be the last market day, and the end of the year festival. After that, the Day of Challenge awaited him.

“Only three days to go.”

The day he would finally strike a real blow against this Curse. And perhaps… not only his own.

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