Isabella D’Saron, the Queen of Baden, stalked into her personal chambers, her lips pressed tightly together and her eyes blazing. Two members of her personal guard followed her in silence, and their blank faces somehow conveyed a desire to be invisible. Isabella spared only a quick nod for the guards and a young page, foregoing her usual words of appreciation, as she passed through the lantern-lit receiving room toward the doorway to her private bedroom.
The guards took their posts on either side of the door to the bedroom, joining the two soldiers already on station outside the antechamber. While removing her cloak and soft gloves, she mentally reviewed the events of the day.
After an angry confrontation with traitorous members of her council, she and Captain Sorenson had deployed her Guard and rallied loyal regiments to ensure her control of the city. But her enemies on the council had fled the city, heading for their countryside estates and leaving defiant messages behind them. Those lords would be summoning their vassals and feudal militia.
Since the death of her father three years earlier, the loyal nobles and concerned merchants of the High Council had taken every opportunity to ensure the kingdom’s “continued health.” Once a week, after long, rambling speeches intended, she suspected, to put her to sleep, they had voted on resolution after resolution that slowly stripped her of power and that were clearly part of a patient attempt to make her a figurehead in her own domain.
She had put a bandage on the bleeding wound today, but the patient’s survival was an issue in doubt.
Isabella vented a curse as she opened the ornate doors leading to her sleeping chamber. Entering into the room, she was not surprised to see her chambermaid Micaela and a man wearing a dark cloak rising from two chairs near the window. Micaela was her most trusted lady and the man—Elazar—was one of her father’s most trusted spies. She knew little else about him, but she was running out of people to trust. She had been expecting both of them.
“What news?”
“The rumors are true, Majesty,” Micaela said. “They are dealing in slaves.”
“Elazar?”
“Yes, with no room for doubt. I have seen the pens with my own eyes.” He had brown eyes, and although his hair was mostly gray, his eyes showed no signs of corresponding age. His vision was sharp and alert.
“Who is involved?”
“Simon D’Kites. Desmond D’Tarlec. Harold Bivot,” he said, sounding like a scribe crossing names off of a list. “Perhaps more, but those three are certainly among the guilty ones.”
“Creator, preserve us,” she whispered. A Duke. A Baron. The richest merchant in the kingdom. All three men sat on the High Council, and they were the sources of much of her troubles. “They will blacken our name in the eyes of the world, even as they damn their prisoners to lives of suffering and death, and there is little I can do to stop them.”
“How, little?” he asked. “Surely, you will unleash all of your power on them.”
His statement was fuel that rekindled her earlier anger and anxiety. “I do not want a civil war. I have enough strength to hold the city, but I’m not sure that I have enough to overwhelm the forces of half of the council.” She cursed bitterly. “When my father died, I delegated too much authority to the wrong people, and now I struggle to correct the mistake because many of my supposed supporters fear my enemies.”
Elazar’s eyes narrowed. “I am a simple man, your Majesty, and I do not spare energy upon fearing other men. Your father saved my life during battle at least three times that I am aware of. What matters to me is keeping you alive, since he is no longer able to do so. My loyalty is small enough payment for the years he gave me. Men like me and Captain Sorenson are loyal to you, not to the High Council.”
She could recognize sincerity on occasion, although it was becoming increasingly harder, not only because she was lied to more frequently now but also because she was less trusting than she had been in her youth.
“Verily,” she said, “I accept that. I must oppose this usurpation, but I warn you that I am running out of allies.”
“Among other news, I can tell you that two men whom I can ask for help have entered the city,” Elazar told her. “I am not sure what they will be able to offer, but they owe me a debt that should be large enough to pay for their help. Remain inside your chambers until I return. Then you might have help and more options.”
#
Later, after they were gone, Isabella paced the room.
As much as admitting a family failure pained her, she could not help but see the source of the kingdom’s current weakness in her father’s long decades as king. In his younger years, he had ruled his domain with ruthless energy, and his officers had established an efficient administration in large part by wiping out all opposition. So now, on the surface, her kingdom was a place of peace, order, and relative prosperity. But dangers lurked under the surface. Her subjects were cautiously passive, and many of the powerful both decadent and corrupt.
Even worse, for the past decade, neither father nor daughter truly controlled the kingdom. Their authority was something of a facade over the real machinery of power, the de facto rulers of the land.
She had been slow to realize what was happening. Her first conclusion had been that the councilmen needed to tell themselves their little lies to preserve their self-images. Over time, though, she realized her error.
The truth was that most current members of the council knowingly mouthed the lies; what she had mistaken for self-delusion was pure hypocrisy. No matter what level of evidence they were presented with, they held to a rigid public pose of absolute disbelief, and they buried the facts under an ambiguous mask of language. Surely, no subject of the kingdom would ever engage in the transport of (buying and selling of) criminals and foreigners (innocent human beings), and even the lowest of the low (poor peasants) had a certain responsibility to care for his or her own state (if a person was in trouble in the kingdom, his or her own actions were probably the cause).
Who was capable of running such a large, illegal venture in any case (a slave caravan can and should be ignored if we did not know who it belongs to)? Where was the written evidence of wrongdoing (the slavers stupid enough to put the details of their activities on paper and then kind enough to misplace the paper in the hands of the council’s agents)? And even if the overzealous factors of some unknown merchant did occasionally stray beyond the law, what harm really resulted from a subject who paid taxes to the treasury removing empty stomachs and idle bodies from the kingdom (profiting from the labor, and often suffering and death, of an enslaved captive)?
They had perfected their game during the years of her father’s decline, and by the time of her coronation, they were so adept at inverting the meaning of any word in the language that she had been almost completely lost during her first few council meetings. With time, she became more adept at seeing behind the masks of polite honorifics and flowery language, but by then it was much too late.
She did, however, still control the ceremonial functioning of her court, and if she was ever going to take back ownership of what was hers, she was going to have to break the power of her enemies. But to achieve that goal, she needed enough manpower to hold the city while also taking the field against her enemies.
In her judgment, she currently lacked the strength to do more than hold the city. Her situation was so frustrating that she wanted to scream. But a queen does not scream, of course.
A queen could, however, curse like a drunken fisherman while in the privacy of her own rooms.
#
By any conventional standard, Isabella reflected, she was a ruined woman if word of these visits slipped out.
For the second time in one night, her private chambers contained a man—in this case, two men—and she remained unmarried. She was concerned, though, when she saw that neither of the men who entered through the open window was Elazar.
“Your Majesty, I are here at Elazar’s request,” the shorter man said.
“Who are you? And where is Elazar?”
“I am Simon Lezar, and my friends and I are here to help you. Elazar, unfortunately, had to remain at the tavern to distract several of your enemies’ spies.”
She recognized the man’s name, of course; no competent ruler in any of the domains along the Southern Sea could be ignorant of his identity after the last twenty years. He was as close to a prince as any merchant could be, and he undoubtedly was richer than all but the wealthiest rulers. He had factors and captains operating in every major port city, and he had a reputation as being both intelligent and ruthless. The other man, though, was a stranger to her.
“If your words are true,” she said, “then you will not mind if I summon the captain of my Guard to join us.”
Simon Lezar shrugged. “Do what makes you feel safe. But if word of this meeting spreads to the rest of your nobility, then what we have to offer will be useless to you. Can you trust your men to hold their tongues?”
“My guards are loyal to their captain,” she said, a hard note in her voice, “and Captain Sorenson is one of the few peopleI trust.” She noticed a faint look of sadness on the second man’s face, and she instinctively decided to make a concession. “But if secrecy is so important to you, I am will hear you alone.”
Simon bowed. “A wise decision, your Majesty, because although we can help you to solidify your power, we are reluctant to act if our presence becomes known. I can tell you that Duke Aidan, Duchess Francesca, and Queen Maurelle directly support our effort. In this matter, I represent his interests and those of the two female rulers.”
She was surprised by the disclosures. “I am wondering why such powerful rulers would be interested in my tiny domain. I would assume that Duke Aidan needs to focus on moving his new army back to Ravenwood. You will have to speak more plainly.”
Simon Lezar looked at her. “Elazar told me you could be direct.” He shrugged. “We represent parties who want to see you firmly back in control. In return, I might hope for certain considerations in matters of trade, but more importantly, we share our patrons’ determination to suppress the slave trade wherever possible.”
“Why?”
“Why do we want you back in control? Or why are we against the slave trade?”
She smiled, which was a rare event nowadays. She suspected that this man was not in the least impressed by her station and also that he enjoyed being clever. “I would like answers to both questions, in whichever order pleases you.”
“The second question is the one most important to Queen Maurelle’s people. They have studied this issue for quite some time. And although they have specific moral objections to the trade, their practical conclusion is that the slave trade encourages war, because many lords anticipate large profits in selling captured soldiers and people hostile to their new rulers. They are opposed to war, and so they are also opposed to the slave trade.” Simon smiled ruefully. “The Duchess would prefer not to worry about ‘the pack of cruel vipers’ on your Council, and she wants to support a sister ruler. My intentions are not quite so noble, but I will grant that both slavery and war are bad for trade, at least if one takes the long view. I am hoping for trade concessions in exchange for my assistance, and I am certain that we can reach mutually beneficial agreements. Duke Aidan’s motivations have more to do with simple survival; he needs more allies, and so do you. He also needs the Seven Kingdoms to stay out of his war with the empire. If you can regain control in Baden, he will deal with your neighbor on his way back to Ravenwood. Having two allies on this island will secure his flank when he moves north.”
Isabella tilted her head. “When?”
“When.” Simon’s tone was firm. “Understand, your Majesty: Aidan is already on the move. He is not alone in this war; he has some powerful allies. So his combined army is going to hammer his enemies. Even if he eventually loses the war, the Tiberian Empire won’t be moving further south anytime soon. In fairness, and looking to the future, I must admit that both the Queen and Duchess Francesca would rather see you and Khartras dominating this entire island.”
“I have little interest in becoming someone else’s token ruler,” Isabella announced. “My recent experience has given me all too clear of a picture of that fate.”
Simon shook his head. “That is not our intention. We can, though, create a hole in the power structure, a rather large hole that only you can legitimately fill.” He clasped his hands behind his back and stared at her. “We can kill the three men that currently control the traffic in slaves in your kingdom, and we would like to free their captives if possible—their public testimony would leave no doubt about the trade’s existence here. We can do the first with or without your help, but we would like your help for the second task. And we will only act on your soil if we have your cooperation.”
“You need my cooperation to outmaneuver some of your competitors, no?” She wanted to hear all of his motives before she committed to any pact.
“Yes,” Simon admitted, “but your city will not suffer. Kimmelsport and the Free Baronies, on the other hand, will lose an enormous amount of trade, and that thought pleases me greatly.”
She understood that logic. Simon Lezar was known for his willingness to partner with any wealthy merchant or noble, but many of his rivals lived and operated in Kimmelsport and the Free Baronies. The free towns and guilds to the west, in particular, resented Ravenwood’s success at dominating their regional fairs, and the rulers of Kimmelsport had often complained about the willingness of his captains to accept illegal passengers, mostly indentured servants seeking a town or a city where they could win their freedom by living at large for a year and a day. Duke Cedric, like most rulers, had not asked many questions about where people came from because the city always needed more labor and his treasury welcomed the increase in tax revenues. Such an environment offered many opportunities for men like Simon Lezar.
“‘On your soil,’ you said.”
Simon nodded. “Make no mistake, Majesty: we are going to destroy these men’s business. If necessary, I will commission enough privateers to sink every ship they control.”
“I see,” she said. “That will not be necessary. I am inclined to agree to this bargain, and with my Guard’s help, I can hold the city. But even with these three men out of the way, many of the merchants and nobles might resist any major changes in policy.”
“All that you say is true, but you are stronger than you realize. You are the Queen. Your people respect you, and your family, and therefore you have legitimacy, which is, let us call it, potential power. Yes, the other nobles in your kingdom might see an opportunity for personal advancement or be inclined to oppose you, but few will even consider risking their houses. They will become increasingly careful as Aidan starts to spew carnage and chaos in his wake, which he will start doing in the immediate future. That is one of the causes of your current troubles. Many who should support you are staying neutral to safeguard the future of their houses. They will rally behind you if you act decisively because if they did not kill your enemies, you must have. They will not want to risk losing their own lives or positions in a time of great uncertainty. Supporting you will look like a safe harbor from a dangerous storm. Most of your nobles and merchants will forgive the extreme nature of your response once the truth about the slave trade surfaces.”
“Most. Not all. These three are undoubtedly not the only guilty ones.” She spent a few minutes in thought. “Can you kill them? They are all well protected.”
He chuckled, a cold, grim sound. “Your Majesty, our men are in place. We have enough to do the job, and many of our men are more dangerous than their guards can imagine. Nobody can be protected when enough of such men seek your death.”
“How many men did you bring?” Isabella asked. “I am not thrilled over the idea of another private army rampaging throughout the kingdom.”
“Thirty,” Lezar said, then continued after seeing the incredulous expression on her face. “They are enough, your Majesty. If all goes well, we won’t even use all of them. We’re here to kill three men, not thirty.”
Isabella examined Simon Lezar’s quiet companion. “You are one of the thirty, I assume? You agree with this assessment? You have enough men to complete this task?”
“I am. I do,” the man said. “My name is Pelion. I am a Bladedancer.”
Her eyes widened, and she nodded, her expression revealing a growing hope, despite her efforts to conceal it. “When will this happen?”
“Soon, Majesty,” Simon replied. “We do not want to linger here; the risk of discovery is real.”
“My part?”
“Be prepared to hold a public hearing We will provide you with documents detailing as much as we have been able to learn about the slave trafficking, but when we move, you must call a council meeting and invite all the guild leaders. Then, display the documents. Invoke your power of High Justice and send detachments of whatever loyal forces you can muster to the estates of all council members. Order your commanders to inspect the grounds. Whether the council members cooperate is irrelevant because on three estates, you will find the slave pens. Confiscate the estates. You will then be able to request and require the presence of the High Council. Walk them past the signs of any fighting and the evidence. Let them see the evidence with their own eyes. Some at least are decent men and women; they will be shocked, and they might rally behind you. Even if they do not, the army and the people assuredly will.”
“I will agree to that, so long as your men do leave immediately afterwards. I do not need to remove three evils to replace them with an even greater problem.”
“Of course, Majesty,” he said. “They will be needed in the north and east in any case. Someone must try to teach Emperor Marcus and some of the great lords in the Empire that selling people into slavery is not always a profitable policy.”
She tapped her lower lip with a finger. “You select dangerous enemies.”
He shook his head. “They select us. Understand, Majesty, that Marcus will not be satisfied until he has all of the Old Empire’s territory within his grasp. We are going to try to stop him.”
She thought about some possible futures. “I make no promises now, because I do not want you to confuse influence with power. If your plan is successful, I will have control again, but I will need time to turn it into true power. When I do have it, however, you will find me to be your ally in any struggle against Marcus. I have met him, and I would not live under his rule.”
Simon bowed. “We will share your words with our leaders.”
“What else do you need from me?”
“We will need to coordinate with some of your guard. We will need guides and spotters.”
“Yes. My first thought was that you could attend a dinner in the Great Hall,” she said, “but doing so would reveal your presence in the city. I have been holding masked balls on a regular basis, though, and you could easily meet with Captain Sorenson during the next one, which is in two days.”
“Not a good idea,” he said. “It would probably be safe, but we do not know how closely your enemies are watching you and your loyalists. But after the event—perhaps in a month—I could visit officially. Public knowledge of a large loan of money at low interest might discourage some of your fence-sitters; nobody wants to back the losing side.”
“Your suggestion, then?”
“Send a small patrol of your Guard—under your captain’s command, if possible—into the eastern forest in the morning. Pelion and I will meet with him and hammer out the details of a plan.”
“That will not be a problem. Captain Sorenson will lead the patrol; he does so anyway from time to time, and his presence should draw no undue attention.”
“Then our business here is finished.”
As Simon climbed out the window, he looked back and smiled, almost boyishly. “Queen Isabella, you should put two guards on the roof. A curious boy with enough courage could reach this point as easily as we did.”
#
Once off of the palace grounds and out of sight of the city, Simon and Pelion ran with smooth, distance-eating strides through the fields and scattered copses of trees that surrounded the city. Although Simon was pained to admit the point, Pelion clearly was holding back—the pace was a difficult one for Simon to maintain, but his companion was not even breathing deeply. Simon was not a soldier, merely a man who had grown up on the streets of Ravenwood, lived an active life, and believed in hands-on control of his commercial affairs. After five miles, they reached a comparatively dense section of forest and were met at the tree line by Simon’s senior captain.
“Well?” asked Gavin. He was Simon’s most capable man and fortunately extremely . . . versatile.
“She’s agreed to the plan. We start tomorrow.” Simon swallowed several mouthfuls from the waterskin. Then he spit once on the forest floor. “Let us join the others and get some rest. We meet up with the Queen’s men at dawn tomorrow.”
“Should we set a watch?” Gavin asked, and of course, he would be the one to ask. One reason why Simon employed the man was his caution—Gavin only took calculated risks.
Pelion gestured for attention with a wave of one hand. “My men will keep watch through the night,” he stated. “They will report any who might approach us.”
Simon nodded. That promise was as close to a statement of fact as one was likely to encounter in this world. He hoped never to have Pelion’s people as an enemy; they moved like ghosts through the trees.
At sunrise, exhibiting no obvious signs of his lack of sleep but certainly feeling them in his tired eyes, Simon led his men back toward the capital city of Baden. He undoubtedly would pay a price later for all of this exertion later, but he believed that his men were assured by the impression of relentless vigor that he worked hard to project. A steady, warm breeze wafted through the trees and helped keep his mind from dwelling on the day’s business. When they were a mile from the city, Simon, Pelion, and Gavin continued onward to the forest’s edge.
From behind an elm tree, Simon had a clear view of the city’s main gate, and just after sunrise, he saw a small party exit the city. The men followed the cobble-stoned for a short distance, and then cut across the plain to enter the forest. He and Pelion cut deeper into the trees on a course that soon put them in the path of the patrol.
The men—there were six of them—stopped walking when they saw Simon and his companion. A stocky man, perhaps forty years old, with a weathered faced and gray-streaked hair, stepped forward.
“I am the Captain of the Queen’s Guard,” he said. “And you are?”
“I am Simon Lezar.”
“Then you are the man I was ordered to meet.” The captain smiled thinly. “These men will serve you as guides, and I am further ordered to provide any other necessary assistance.”
Simon turned to the business at hand. “D’Kite is in the city, I’m told, and I’ll need a man who can identify him for our men.”
“At least you have the decency to kill the right person,” said the captain in a voice laced with sarcasm.
The air cooled, noticeably.
“You may judge us as it pleases you, Captain,” Simon said, hearing the icy precision in his voice. “But remember this one fact: these scum are here. We are going to see this task accomplished, one way or another. We’re simply not convinced that walking over the corpses of thousands of people to stop three men is the best way to go.”
“This is not the best possible beginning,” Pelion observed. “Captain, my people are not particularly fond of these methods, either, but at a practical level, it is the least destructive cure for this cancer.”
“My apologies,” the captain said, stiffly but in an apparently sincere tone of voice. “I am not used to this method of removing my enemies, but I agree that her Majesty has little choice at this point. One of the men with me can help you and also will keep his mouth shut.” He hesitated. “He is a good man but . . . not the easiest person in the world to work with.”
“That is fine,” Simon said. “Working with him will be Gavin’s job.”
And the Captain had not been lying, Gavin concluded later that evening as he listened in fascinated awe to the extended burp that his companion unleashed after drinking an entire flagon of ale.
Gavin had nothing but doubts at the moment. The inn where they were meeting was a chaotic madhouse, and far too public and loud to suit his preferences. His sensitivity to the noise was probably heightened by the sharp spikes of white pain converging at a point behind his eyes. He was eating some of the spiciest beef he had ever tasted. He blinked once, twice. “That’s a bit of a shock,” he observed. I assume you enjoy suffering for your food.”
“I suffered without adequate food for longer than I’d ever wish to again, and hunger expands a man’s tastes. Good food should never be bland, and the heat of this dish reminds me that I’m alive.” Captain Sorenson’s agent—Erik was his name—dipped a bread crust into a bowl of mustard. “And by all accounts, the spice trade has never been better. I have always enjoyed the fruits of it.” His teeth worked on the bread.
Gavin sipped the bitter ale. “We have business of our own to discuss.”
“Soon, my friend. Soon. That bastard isn’t going anywhere for a while. But by the way, I’m told that he and his partners do suspect that someone is going to move against them.”
“How can that be?”
Erik shrugged. “Their spies are like fleas on a dog.”
“Yet you are willing to risk helping us?” Gavin swallowed a larger mouthful of his own ale; it only intensified the burning in his mouth. “I’ve been told that you are a cautious man. Would you call yourself such?”
Erik smiled. “Dangerous,” he mused. “I would call myself dangerous, because I have little to lose.”
“Not what I’d have expected.”
“What, then?”
“Overconfident, perhaps.”
Erik shrugged. “It might seem that way, friend. But I’m the enemy of these men, and I’m still alive. Simple.”
“Nothing is that simple,” Gavin said.
“No, perhaps not.” For the first time, Gavin saw a ruthless coldness in Erik’s eyes; it was like watching a friendly mutt turn into a rabid wolf, and the change happened in the blink of an eye. “But the whole story would take more than a day to tell. Leave it here: I have my own reasons to hate D’Tarlec and his partners. They used one of my weaknesses to destroy me, and even to return to this level has taken me over a year. I suppose I should thank them in a way; they rid me of certain misconceptions about honor in business. D’Tarlec, in particular, stripped me of most of my illusions. But they owe me a debt for the harshness of the lessons, and I mean to collect it.”
Gavin wondered for a moment about how the information of their purpose could have slipped out, but it was a matter for later. “We’ll have to move quickly then. How can you be sure that D’Tarlec will show himself tonight?”
“Because the man is predictable in some ways. He met with his partners earlier today in the town near his manor, and both of the partners left the town late this afternoon. D’Tarlec, though, keeps a mistress in town, and he always spends a night with her whenever he can. Then to cut down on the gossip, he leaves her house shortly before dawn. That is your best chance at him.”
“Then I’m afraid you’re going to have a long night,” Gavin said. “So go easy on the ale.”
“Not a problem, my friend.” Erik savored another mouthful of beef, and then said, “I’ll have plenty of time to celebrate after you have finished the job.”
The night was long and damp, but fortunately, no town watch patrolled at regular intervals. So Gavin and his twelve men were able to conceal themselves without too much difficulty and at the cost of a few small bribes. They were divided into three small parties, with two ready to set the ambush, and one that Erik led to the mistress’ house. Gavin stayed with Erik, and he kept two men with bows and one other to serve as a runner with him. The ideal plan was to ambush D’Tarlec at one of the major crossroads on his probable route out of the town, and Gavin was hopeful that they could pull if off cleanly. The alternative was an open conflict on the road outside of the town, which would be more difficult in many ways. So they waited for almost four hours, until a small party of men finally exited the courtyard of the mistress’ house.
D’Tarlec was no fool. He traveled with six guards, stayed on the main streets, and had two servants with lit torches in his party.
His precautions made little difference, though. At a four-way intersection, his party was the target of a storm of arrows from the left street and from behind them. And immediately in the wake of the arrows, five men attacked from the right street and finished it.
The attack was over in less than two minutes. The attackers retreated into the darkness as quickly as they had exited it, leaving behind them the bodies of D’Tarlec and his six guards as well as two terrified servants, who were alive but gagged and trussed like cattle readied for branding.
#
The news traveled quickly as the morning sun rose above the town’s wall, and by mid afternoon, in a manor only a short ride to the south, a tense conference between two men was underway in D’Kite’s study. The two men had never truly liked each other; they were partners out of convenience and because of mutual but reluctant respect.
“It must be her,” D’Kite insisted. “Who else would move against us now?”
“That is the question,” his guest said. “I am still convinced that it is someone besides the Queen. My spies in the palace have seen no signs of any planning, and in any case, whom does she have in her service that could coordinate something like this? Sorenson is too busy trying to protect her from us and too constrained by his notions of honor to consider such methods.”
“We have to find out soon. I’ve doubled my guards, but I am not willing to wait for D’Tarlec’s fate.”
“Perhaps we should leave the kingdom for while. We each could set our best men onto the matter, and leave on one of our ships in the morning. A tour of some of our factors is a legitimate business activity, in any case.”
“No, I will not leave now. If it is the Queen, we might be playing into her hands. I want to know what is going on before I decide on my next move.”
As the first sounds from outside the building reached their ears, both of them looked with no little annoyance at the window. Only after a minute did the realization of what the sounds might mean surface into their conscious comprehension, and by then it was well past being too late to matter.
Two bodies came hurtling through the windows, and both men had glimpses of bared blades before the door crashed open and more men entered by that route.
Both men died almost before they realized they were about to do so. The attack was not quiet, but it was quick.
#
Several weeks later, Simon Lezar sailed into Baden on one of his largest and newest ships, and he took a perverse delight in ostentatiously displaying and then parading a staggering number of rich gifts past the eyes of the captains and merchants swarming along the docks and on the direct route to the palace.
“Word has traveled to us that a new day has dawned in Baden,” he told one captain who worked for an old business associate, “and your employer knows that I always do business with the competent and the powerful. Your Duchess has demonstrated that she is both.”
Later that same evening, Simon joined the Duchess in a formal dinner in her hall, and during a private conference on the balcony, with only Captain Sorenson present as chaperone, they risked a frank conversation.
“How many people did your men find in the pens?”
“Over one thousand,” she replied. “Most—most—were men. Captain Sorenson recruited several dozen into my Guard, and I offered the rest work as laborers on the harbor defenses until they find some better option.”
“Perhaps I could have one of my men recruit among them. My ship captains are always looking for new crew members.”
“Please do,” she said. “If a significant number want to join your crews, you will ease yet another of my problems.”
“We haven’t solved all of your problems for you, Majesty,” Simon told her. “This enterprise has penetrated your entire domain. We wiped out the three largest merchants, but you have numerous others who will try to step forward and fill the void.”
“Yes, I know, but I have made great progress over the past weeks at reasserting my authority. And now I will have a chance to consolidate my power and end this trade completely, which is more than I had last month. I am in your debt, and since I was able to confiscate half of the holdings of the three houses as a penalty for treason and trafficking in slaves, I can offer you a substantial gratuity.”
Simon shrugged. “As to that, I am already being compensated by other parties; if you could see your way to grant a short-term reduction in your duties on cargo entering your domain in my ships, however, I would be eternally grateful. And I can promise you an overall increase in commerce and tax revenues.”
“You, sir, are a shameless rascal,” she pointed out, “but a smart one. Your profits from such an arrangement will far surpass the amount of the gift I had in mind. I agree, however, that some type of arrangement is possible and in both of our interests.”
Simon Lezar bowed to her. “Mutually beneficial arrangements are the best kind of business,” he said. “We all need friends.”
“Yes, that is true,” Isabella said. “We never have enough good ones.”
“As it happens, I might be able to help you in some small way in that regard.”
“How so?”
“Gillian Whiterose sent several of his Bladedancers with Pelion. Apparently, one man is also something of a healer, and Pelion asked me to offer you the man’s services. If you take him on as a court physician, you might have an extra layer of security unknown to your enemies.”
“I am not opposed to accepting this man’s service, but I will consult with Captain Sorenson first.”
“As you wish, Majesty. I plan on staying in the city for a few more days, and you can be certain that by the time I leave, every merchant in this city will know that you have my full support.”
“That is happy news,” she said. “Before you leave, I will have a letter for the Duke Aidan’s eyes, too. I would like to discuss the possibilities of a formal alliance with him.”
“I would be happy to deliver such a letter.”
She smiled. “For the first time in several years, I find myself looking forward to the rest of the summer. It should be a happy time this year. Come, let us rejoin my guests. The entertainers will enter soon.”
