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Chapter 24

Silver Lucras

In three days, the appraisal was completed, and we could theoretically reclaim our coin. I say theoretically because what Gamilla actually got was a receipt. Due to delays in cashing the receipt, the local jewelers would only give her nine of ten coins of that value.

Irritating, and letting Gamilla get her hands on the coins meant that I, the ostensible leader, was granted an allowance of three coppers a day. Call it what it was, a living stipend or paycheck, or however you think about that.

But it was enough, once recovered from my serious wound, to spend a copper on raw lumber and a copper to borrow a carpenter’s workshop and tools, and carve those into round shields. Of the first set, only three survived testing with a passing grade, but I found a shield-smith to put the iron rim around the edges.

Costly, for shields, but not as much as the stores had them priced.

.....

I brought back fish and greens for all five of us to celebrate.

“Those shields are kinda small, boss.”

“I’m kinda small, still. Why, did you want a shield?”

He chuckled. “Archer.”

“Wife, Kismet? Shields?”

Kismet looked at me like I’d offered her a dish of lemon and onions.

“I’ll take a shield, thank you.”

“Gamilla, can you use shields?”

“I can SELL shields.” She said.

“Fine, I’ll keep a spare, then. What else do we need for the next island?”

“Which one is the next island?” Gamilla asked.

“Here, Thardinhold. Where the Norviik lived before taking Lavin Buscala.”

“Why there?” asked Madonna. “Are you trying to find the least hospitable cesspit of filth and disease on the islands?”

“Because they have rumors of black cats the size of bears.” I said. “It’s a good spot to start looking for the Aware pumas.”

“Ugh.” She tossed the shield up, and caught it. “I only promised them that so they’d let us go.”

“The quest, for better or worse, is real now.”

“Rhishi, you didn’t!”

“Of course, I did. Although I’m tempted to see how the slave market works, I’d rather not be a participant at the bottom of the process.”

“I’m happy not being enslaved.” Gamilla said.

“Cowards. I would have done it.” Madonna said.

I sighed. “We can dismantle the illegal slave network later. Right now, let’s focus on retaining our freedom.”

“Anyway, you were saying you were captured?” Kismet asked.

“Were we?” Gamilla said.

“I seem to remember Madonna getting captured.” Narces mused.

“That was a ploy! A distraction so that I could get them talking.”

Uh-huh.

But not all truths need to be spoken.

“In any event, I think we need to explore and ask everyone we can find.”

Madonna snorted. “We make more looting these sites than helping people.”

“But my mission is to establish trade. Money alone doesn’t accomplish either of our goals.”

“Money does make a number of things easier.” Gamilla said.

“Like buying trade goods.” Narces said.

I sighed. “Okay, but we’re keeping focus.”

#

Apparently, Gamilla had signed a document making her the seller of the silver puma statues, which meant the auction required her signature to finalize the sale. The rest of us, so long as we returned to sleep in the hospital room provided, were free to go where we wished within the town.

Vernice had over two hundred buildings, but not all of them were in use. None of those had all the hallmarks of an embassy, and the cheapest among them was some three hundred lucras. Besides, for reasons already explained, Vernice just wasn’t the best place for an embassy.

And the rest of that day, I sat with Kismet, reading from a compilation of Furdian folk stories and fairy tales. They had a simple theme, stay near your parents or you’ll get eaten by a beasty of some sort.

How did a culture with that kind of attitude have only weak monsters? Or maybe it was the other way around? Did weak monsters encourage children to walk around without their parents?

“And none of that explains their obsession with food.” I said.

“I’d care more about cooking if I’d learned from my mom.” Kismet said.

I shrugged. “I care about making food that’s good for people, but I don’t get all fussy with these textures and making it look like it’s not food.”

“You could use a little bit of concern for how stuff tastes and looks.” She said. “I mean, there’s more to life than soups and tea.”

“Fair enough. When we build our embassy, I’ll make sure it has a kitchen with an oven.”

“You could also try cooking bread before we leave port.” She was wracked by a coughing fit. “But... not right now.”

“Sleep well.” I said. I needed to up my potions game, maybe brew up something to rapidly heal from serious injuries.

Honestly, I still needed to increase everything.

Madonna was back first, wearing an ornate blue dress, and carrying two others over her shoulder. “Husband, you must absolutely come with me next time. This little frame just isn’t meant for carrying such loads.”

“Where did you get money for that?” I asked. They were not among the most affordable of dresses.

“Why, I purchased them off your credit, dear husband. Surely you don’t want me walking around naked?”

“Limit your expenses to a copper a day until further notice.” I said.

“Why so little?”

“Because I have only three copper per day, and your current expenses take care of the half copper for at least the next two years.”

“How DARE you! I’ll have you know that I saved no less than four gold on these dresses!”

“At a cost of how much?”

“I’m certain that answer isn’t actually relevant.”

“The answer is clearly that you desire closer supervision and less freedom.” I said.

“Everyone was just saying how we need more freedom!”

Kismet rolled over on her side. “Trying to sleep, here.”

“Black-Souled Madonna, be silent, and come sit on this chair here. I still need to change your bandages.”

#

I took her out into the hallway to speak with her. “Whispers only.” I said.

“How DARE you do that to me? Who do you think you are, to command such nonsense?”

“What would your penalty be, in Hell, if you pulled such a stunt?”

“In hell? They’d torment me for HOURS. But you ...”

I struck her across her cheek, drawing blood. Her eyes went wide, and her breathing... no, she couldn’t be having THAT kind of reaction. Not to being struck.

“We’re going to treat you and stop the bleeding. Hopefully before it ruins your dress.”

“THAT is how a master should treat their minions.”

That was actually worth a point of Malice, and a point of Wrath that didn’t make it past my Sin Armor.

“Isn’t that a bit harsh for wanting to look nice?” Narces asked.

“Narces, do you want to earn enough to ensure our freedom, just to end up a debt-slave for her dresses?”

“They can’t do that.”

“They can.” Madonna said. “I needed to know how my husband would react if I did something that would endanger everyone.”

.....

She swept a moist cloth over her cheek, smiling. “And now, I know.”

Narces crossed his arms. “If you have to hit a woman to live with her, you ought to just not live with her.”

“Thank you, Narces.” I said.

It was just after dusk when a triumphant Gamilla showed up. “Ha!”

“Shush.” I said, gently pushing Kismet’s head back onto the pillow. “Whispers, please, Gamilla.”

“Six THOUSAND silver lucras. We can pay our debts, and have nearly a thousand to fund our expeditions.” Quick math revealed the obvious – the figures didn’t match up.

Madonna smiled. “I’ve already spent my share of that. Do you like my new dress?”

Gamilla’s eyes narrowed. “A lot more than I like that look on your cheek.”

“What, this? I even told my husband I’ve earned so much worse.”

“That is NOT the proper answer. Besides, Narces and I should be going out to celebrate. You should come with us.”

She pursed her lips. “Should I go with them, husband?”

“If you don’t, Gamilla will find some reason or other to speak with you when I’m not around. Go ahead, I’ll watch over Kismet.”

She curtseyed, and swept out the door. The dress DID look nice on her, if far too frilly and fluffed for my personal tastes.

“This is NOT over between us.” Gamilla said. “We will discuss this later.”

“Don’t let that discussion ruin your dinner, Gamilla.”

“And bring back food.” Kismet said.

“You should be RESTING.” I said.

“I will bring back food for you, Kismet.” She said.

“YOU can get your own food.” She said to me.

“Of course.” I said. I was just glad I was able to buy food. So much better than worrying about slavery.

“I’m glad you smacked that hell-bitch.” Kismet said, once they were gone. “About time.”

#