Enlightened Empire
/ Enlightened Empire 30 On the Prowl
For a good while, Herak had wandered the roads of Etra, unperturbed by the looks he and his knight's guard received. In truth, the duke relished in the fear and respect the citizens showed towards him from behind drawn curtains. Although he was surrounded by enemies on all sides, although it would have been easy for the people of Etra to swarm and kill their year-long tormentor, no man along their path showed the courage to act upon his thoughts. This was real power, the strength to win battle before it had begun.
After he had basked in the glow of triumph for long enough, Herak had arrived at the goal of his journey, the Fastgrade Merchant Company. With a snort, the duke read the ostentatious sign atop the entrance. After his own company had been forced to change names, this place was now the only company called 'Fastgrade' in all of Arcavia. Even though they had shown a lack of respect for his noble office, the Bear of Borna would forgive the company's owners for their transgressions. After all, inside the walls in his front he would find what he had been searching for all these years, the critical advantage which would guarantee the future of his family's kingdom.
"Duke Herak, welcome!" Although the local clerks around him offered Herak nothing but looks of open hostility, a voice of warmth still greeted him from the side. He turned to find the men who had informed him of the impromptu auction, and the ones he had decided to cooperate with, at least for today.
"Masters Trellban and Master Devaerter, what a joyous occasion this day will be for all of us!"
"Joyous indeed," Devaerter replied with a look of unadulterated glee written all over his face. "At last, the outsiders will move on. Once the Fastgrades leave, Etra will be rid of the menace which has caused our fair city so much misery. At last, peace can return back to the south."
Herak replied with a nod, busy hiding his joy behind his mask. Luckily, the Fastgrade success had bred many enemies over the years. In the end, it had taken no more than an offered non-agression treaty and some stakes in his own business ventures to flip the two merchants. In an effort to sour Herak's jubilant mood, Trellban greeted him with a frown and a stern voice.
"Is this not too ridiculous a tale to swallow? I will not believe for a moment that this little bastard is some foreign lord, or that he suddenly decided to return back home. This would not be a trick like his cheatery as 'great seer', would it?"
Despite the merchant's doubts, Herak's good mood remained, while his eyes turned to slits.
"Humble merchant, you believe I would have come here if I had so much as suspected an ambush, or some form of trickery? No matter how unlikely a tale it seems, it should be true. Do not forget that brave Bornish men have sailed across the Weltalic Sea for years now, to spread the good word of Lord Arcavus to the heathens of the West." Of course Herak wouldn't tell them that the Bornish expeditions were mostly governed by economic interests, and of course his new partners knew the truth anyways, but none of them would be stupid enough to offend the Bear of Borna to his face.
"From what my merchant ships tell me, there is indeed a 'Medala Empire' to the far west, straight across the Weltalic Sea. As has been claimed by the little merchant, the ruler of this empire met his end a few months past. Even if the boy is no barbarian lord, at the very least he should have some level of status back in that empire of his. Otherwise he would have no way to receive this information all the way out here, since no Fastgrade ships have ever been seen across the Sea. Not to mention," Herak's eyes narrowed further as his view zeroed in on Trellban, "the brat did not even invite me to his little auction. It was you who informed me of the occasion or I would have no chance to regain the lands the boy stole from me. If it truly were to be an elaborate ambush, would you not be involved as well, Trellban? Who do you believe would be the first man to suffer then?"
"N-No, I-I-I..."
Forced under the pressure of Herak, Trellban moved back a few steps and held up his hands in a show of token resistance. In response, the hint of a smile crept onto the stoic lord's stiff face. He knew that among the two merchants, the Reverer was far more likely to crack under pressure. Any advantages now would be worth pure gold later on, when it was time to divide up the spoils. The duke much preferred the weak Trellban over the battle-hardened Devaerter, who still retained his calm.
"We should get inside. It appears as if the auction is about to start," the unfazed merchant said.
"Yes, indeed," Herak answered, before he turned back towards his guard. "You, Felian Northdale, was it?"
"Yes sire." Felian stood straight, unswayed under Herak's watchful gaze. With how smartly the knight had assessed the attack on the Saline Hills, the duke was convinced that Felian would be a great boon to his own forces, despite his evident failure. However, soon after the knight's meeting with Herak and his brother, he had heard that the man had made attempts to flee the country. Rather than lose a good man and his years of cultivation to some foreign lordship, Herak had decided to bind him closer, and declare him one of his personal guards. Of course the duke wouldn't deny that the satisfaction of watching the man's distraught look had also played part in the appointment.
"Take your men and secure the perimeter. Make sure that this merchant prince won't try any dirty tricks. Today is the day I take back everything that has been taken from me."
Without waiting for his subordinate's answer, Herak turned, with his usual grim face, and marched up to the entrance. Up on the frontal steps, two Fastgrade guards were positioned. Throughout the last few years, the wolf troop under the Fastgrade Merchant Company had developed a bit of a reputation themselves, showing off their talents ever since they beat back the storm on the Saline Hills.
"Halt!" One of them stepped forward and stopped him with acquired confidence. "There will be no entrance without invitation."
However, before they could react to his bold actions, the duke simply ignored the man, shoved him to the side and marched into the open hall. Even though they would know who the invader was and what reputation he carried, the guards still seemed determined to stop Herak. Behind him, feet shuffled to turn and rush after the hostile lord. However, the duke wasn't here to start a fight, not today. He knew better than to begin another expensive and pointless war against Borna over some grandstanding. Instead, he would let his two new partners handle this matter.
"There is no problem," Devaerter said, "This man is with me."
"But he is-"
"Who he is does not matter. I have received an invitation to the Fastgrade auction, as you should be well aware of. Thus, it is within my right to invite a guest and enter the auction with him, with or without your approval, guardsman."
When one of their supposed allies invited their harshest foe into their own headquarters, it must have been a terrible shock for the wolves. Although the duke enjoyed Devaerter's sharp tone and would have loved to see the dull faces of the confused guards, there were more important matters to attend to. First, getting a good view of the entire room would be vital. After all, his opponents for today weren't without threat, even though he had prepared greatly for today's big sale.
Beneath the bronze mask, his eyes turned over the upholstered chairs which had been placed inside the front hall, and towards the men sitting atop them. Identification wasn't hard, since most had turned to observe the curious visitor who had caused all the racket at the door.
*Easier than I thought.*
The majority of men within the room could safely be ignored. Most of them were nothing more than simple merchants from the so-called free cities, here to satisfy their own greed, and were easy to recognize by their lack of heraldry, as well as their uncouth posture. To Herak, their delusion that they might matter today was hilarious. To their own good fortune, they did not. After the duke had made his deal with the merchants of Etra, their roles today would reduced to that of spectators.
Instead, three different groups, one to his right and two to his left, had positioned themselves to make his life difficult. First he spotted the quack doctor of the King of Whiteport, a man called Freigen. As soon as the duke's imposing eyes crossed with the nervous man before him, the Whitean turned back towards the stage in front of the seats.
Instead, Herak looked at the young aristocrat besides the doctor. Far different from Freigen, he showed a laid-back demeanor. In confident opposition of Herak's stare, the young man replied an impolite grin. Although the duke didn't know the man, as the lord of a major port town he knew the seal on the youngster's chest well. He wasn't sure what the Kingdom of Eniila was doing here, but he would teach the brat some manners as soon as the auction started.
At last, his eyes turned to the right, to the man whose stare had been burning a hole through his mask all this time. With clenched fists and narrowed eyes, Hakon of Padrava, Margrave of Cahlia, stared back in frustration. From the reaction, it appeared as if the Cahlians hadn't expected their old enemies of Borna to enter the auction and make things difficult for them. Faced by the aggressive stance, Herak only returned a nod before he took his seat. There was no reason to start trouble here and give the Fastgrade brat an excuse to throw him out. Rather, he looked forward to the reaction his unwilling host would show once he saw him.
A look around his own seat showed a short stool before him, possibly to rest his legs on, with a piece of paper laid on top.
*Printed,* Herak thought after he had picked it up and inspected the writing. Indeed, the printed letters atop the paper described all the items which would be auctioned off today. Substantial wealth had been accumulated by the Fastgrades over the past four years, and today all of it would be sold off. Not even their own headquarters would be spared.
Aside from wagons, donkeys, leftover stock and various land deeds their company held, there were also the three crown jewels of the Fastgrade Merchants, the reason he himself was here: The precious salt mine in the Saline Hills, the method to produce Brandy, and, to everyone's surprise, the method to produce sugar. Since his own people had made the travels over to Medala, Herak had known that the Fastgrade sugar hadn't been imported like the merchants had claimed. Instead, he had always suspected that just like their alcohol, they had found a method to make the sugar themselves. However, he had never expected the merchant to reveal his secret. Desperation was more effective than the greatest spies, Herak realized.
While the duke was immersed in the pamphlet, his two hosts took their seat to either side of him. Right after everyone had been seated, the door behind them closed with a loud thunk. In anticipation of things to come, everyone's eyes turned towards the front, to the small stage which had been improvised in the back of the hall. From within the inner rooms appeared a young man of portly stature.
*Brymstock Fastgrade, very much his father's son.*
The older one also didn't have any self-control when it came to his body. With confident stride, the youngster stepped in front of the illustrious group and began to speak in a smooth voice.
"Lords and masters from all across Arcavia! The Fastgrade Merchant Company is very fortunate to host such a unique event as today, and glad to call all of you guests."
As the youngster's eyes darted over the rows of guests before him, they finally hit the duke, and halted in their tracks. Though to his credit, the young merchant soon regained his focus, he must have been spooked by the appearance of his great foe. Not only had Herak come, he was also accompanied by Devaerter, a nominal ally of the Fastgrade merchants. For the first time since his arrival in Etra, the Duke had to repress a wide grin and avoid cracking open his thin skin. He expected it to be his greatest challenge for today.
"Thus, without any further ado, I am proud to introduce to you, the great seer of Arcavus, master of the Fastgrade Merchant Company and crown prince of the Medala Empire: Corcopaca Fastgrade!"
As the youngster stepped to the side to make room for his elder brother, Herak leaned forward in his seat, like a tiger on the prowl. This time, fate had killed the boy's father and reversed their positions. For the first time, it was the merchant who had been forced to move. This time, it would be up to Herak to surprise his merchant foe. He was determined to enjoy it.
Chapter end
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