Chapter 6: Chapter Six

Chapter Six

Corwin let the double doors close behind him without a backward glance, nobody but guild members, the heads of other guilds, or their papered and uniformed messengers, or the important heads of local or national government walked into the merchant’s guild unless it was an employee of some sort.

And with good reason, the tables were polished to a shine, the candles scented with sweet oils drawn from local flowers, a small bar served wine in crystal glasses to men and women dressed in silk spun from greater golden orb spiders, much like Corwin’s own, the cloth was strong enough to stop the cut of a steel sword and was standard wear for any wealthy merchant who was forced to travel.

His own was dyed a practical and inexpensive green to disguise the worth of the cloth and diminish the temptation of thieves, while those of his peers in the guild, what few there were, preferred expensive reds and blues or even whites if they were enchanted against dirt or muck.

His goal was no mere courtesy visit. With business in mind he approached the distant counter at the far end of the wall, similar to most coin houses, this one was caged in save for a small opening where the clerk sat, an opening wide enough to slip a book through at need. When he approached, the clerk sat up straight in his stool then hopped forward to land squarely on both feet. His clothing was simple black and white dyed shirt and pants, the shirt laced up from the bottom right to be knotted and secured through a metal loop at the top left after a cloth zigzagged its way up. “Sir!” He said with a sharp, crisp voice of the sort expected out of servants in a house of money. “How can I help you!”

“I’m here to see Leren and arrange for my wagons to stay overnight. I’ll also need quarters for my apprentices and the warrior escort, and a warehouse to store my goods until we leave in the morning.” Corwin waited for the crisp acknowledgement of his request, but he got none.

The servant bowed his head. “Leren is dead, good master.”

Had Leren been an old man or even a man of later middle years, Corwin might not have asked what he did, but because he knew Leren was younger, not even as old as Corwin himself, he asked at once. “How?”

“Murder, good master. While traveling south of here.” The young servant’s slender face was drawn with grief, “Outside of Wenmark several weeks ago.”

“Damn.” Corwin shivered, deaths on the road were as common as trees in the forest, “And his escort? Any survivors?”

“None, good master, it was a nasty affair, they were on the trail of the killers right enough though, the last I heard.” The servant perked up a little, “A group of runaway slaves.”

Corwin kept silent and moved the conversation forward, “Who is his replacement then?”

“His brother, master Gerlit, he is here and handling affairs while the guild selects an official replacement.” The servant answered and let a little smile begin to form, “I’m sure he’d be happy to see you.”

Corwin gestured toward a nearby door, “Lead the way.” He ordered, and waited for the servant to take the lead.

‘Why would Leren go all that way himself? He hates travel.’ Corwin didn’t voice his question, it was unlikely the servant at the front desk of all places would have an answer like that.

“Corwin, good to see you!” Gerlit said as soon as he saw Corwin come into view, “Though I wish it were for different reasons.” The warm smile cultivated by merchants everywhere for clients and customers immediately fled his face. “I didn’t expect I’d have to take up my brother’s burden this way.” Gerlit was a slender waif of a man, balding on top of his head and with thin, bony fingers even with clothing tailored to fit his body he almost vanished inside the cloth. He extended a hand with a copper piece cupped in his angled palm, and as Corwin approached he palmed a coin of his own so that when the two clasped hands, the coins cracked together.

As they drew their hands away, each man’s fingers hooked the coin of their counterpart, so that there was an exchange of currency between them.

Only after each had pocketed the coin of their comrade did Gerlit gesture to the chair and nod at the servant, bidding him leave before the two men of money sat across from one another.

“I’m glad to see you too, Gerlit, and very sorry about Leren. I’m surprised too,” Corwin shook his head, “he was always cautious. I have a hundred guards for my caravan, the Leren I know would have at least twenty just for himself. And that is if he had to leave at all.”

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Gerlit shifted uncomfortably on his seat. “A bad business, that. Some monsters took over one of the mines he owned down south, the local government wouldn’t let anyone in but adventurers. You know how Leren was, he may hate to travel, but if something was costing him money he’d go to set right whatever went wrong. He lit out with a handful of adventurers and died on the way.”

He shook his head again, “A real shame, that.” Gerlit remarked.

“Very.” Corwin remarked, “Now about what I came here for. Shelter, storage, the usual, and of course, news. As you know, I haven’t traveled these roads in quite some time, and it seems they’re getting dangerous. We got hit by two hundred or so bandits just the other day. A group that large,” he rubbed his forehead with the palm of his right hand, the memory of the rain and fear made him visibly sweat all over again, “it just doesn’t exist. No, didn’t exist the last time I was here.”

Gerlit sat back in his chair and rested his palms on the shiny dark wooden desk, “No, no they didn’t. A handful, a dozen, fifty at most, more if there were a prison break or something. It’s because of the Demon God. You were out of the country when it happened but… it got bad in the north. Very, very bad. Even now, years later, the King still hasn’t restored order properly. It’ll be ten more years before the roads are safe again, if they ever are.”

Corwin let out a long whistle. “I suppose I’m lucky I hired the right people.”

“You are. There were some bandits who even posed as mercenaries and escorts and killed their own clients on the road. At least for a while.” Gerlit remarked, “That’s probably why Leren hired adventurers instead.”

“Maybe.” Corwin acknowledged, “Now about what I came here for?”

“Yes… here.” Gerlit yanked a few papers out, took a quill and dabbed it in an inkwell then scribbled briefly, the quil audibly scratching on the cheaply made paper while he silently wrote. “Show this to the desk clerk, he’ll give you a key to your place, our workers will store your goods unless you want to use your own people?”

Corwin shook his head, “They won’t do that much for me. Mercenaries are funny, they’ll swing a sword for hours to avoid lifting a crate for minutes.”

Gerlit snorted, “Yes well, nobody ever said you had to be smart to be one.”

Corwin didn’t argue the point, he only waited until the quill was stored again.

“Now as far as news, nothing really noteworthy, some building contracts are coming up, they need labor if you have any and plan on stopping by any of the other major cities in Southern Qadish. If you plan to just do what you need to and get out like usual, just watch the roads, patrols have been thin lately. The priests are anxious about heresy down south and have been using a lot of the ones who used to handle road patrols to help with heresy hunting instead. It’s a bad business that, and bad for business.”

“Is there any reason, for their worries or are they just making noise like usual?” Corwin asked.

“Nothing too serious, a necromancer got caught and killed somewhere, a handful of monster attacks on some of the frontier villages, and there are the usual stories about jumped up lords fighting over nothing. Oh and news for you, your uncle says he’s eager to see you.” Gerlit promised, and Corwin’s entire body stiffened.

“Oh.” He had to restrain the urge to spit and struggled to keep his hate from showing in his eyes. “I hadn’t expected him to be in Wenmark this time of year.”

“That’s probably why he is.” Gerlit said without any evident suggestion that he was joking.

“Now if there’s nothing else?” Gerlit tapped on the desk as if to say he had more to do.

“Of course.” They rose to their feet, gave a half bow to one another, and Corwin grunted as he inched his way back from the desk to rise and leave the merchant’s guild.

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