“Well, Captain Leftrin, perhaps it seems suspicious on our part, but we wanted to be sure that you knew our business with you was not completed. We don’t want you to leave until we have received a full report of the expedition’s findings from you.”
“Well, Trader Polsk, as the Council has refused to pay me my wages, I’m certainly not regarding our business as concluded! I do hope the Council wasn’t thinking they could insult me and then just send me and my crew on our way with no recompense for risking life and limb out there on the river! Fair is fair, you know, and we got a right to expect our pay! Now I’m willing to give the Council a day or three to consider the situation, but if that evening meeting is convenient to all involved, well, I’ll expect my coin to be on the table. There are two sides to every contract. The Council should be ready to fulfill its share.”
He saw her relax the set of her shoulders. This was bargaining, something every Trader understood. “Fair is fair indeed, Captain Leftrin, and no one knows that better than the Traders’ Council of Cassarick! We will be happy to discuss the settlement of your wages just as soon as you have delivered to us all that we expected from the completion of your last voyage. And I will state plainly that we expect to be allowed to view and copy your logbooks, as well as duplicate the river charts that you have undoubtedly created. You will remember that we hired a hunter for you, one Jess Torkef. He was to hunt meat for the expedition, but he was also to record events and keep charts for the Council. We are saddened to hear of his demise and shocked to hear your accusations that he was a traitor, but we also know that we have the right to demand those documents and his other personal effects be turned over to us.”
Leftrin darted a sideways glance down the dock. The last of the freight was swinging aboard. Big Eider would soon follow it. “Well, I can’t say as I share your sadness at his ‘demise.’ And I wouldn’t know what private arrangements you might have made with him about notes and charts, though I’ll plainly say I believe he had other ‘private arrangements’ that had more to do with slaughtering dragons for profit and maybe striking up a deal with Chalced. In any case, he’s dead and gone, and the wave that went over my boat carried off everything that wasn’t tied down. So I’m afraid that even if I were obligated to satisfy his contract on his behalf, which of course I’m not, I couldn’t do it. I would suggest you take a real close look at whoever recommended that man to you. Jess Torkef was a traitor, and whoever put him on board my ship did so with evil intentions.”
He heard the thud of Eider landing on the deck. Leftrin turned his head and smiled at Skelly, who had appeared at his elbow. “Cast off,” he said in a conversational voice and then turned back to look at the delegation on the dock. “You might want to stand back,” he suggested affably. “We need to reposition the barge for further loading. Won’t take but a minute.”
“He’s leaving!” the Council member at Polsk’s side hissed, and then to the guard he shouted, “Don’t let them untie! Hold on to their mooring lines; don’t let them get away.”
“Abandon the lines if you have to,” Leftrin suggested without worry. The forward lines were already snaking aboard, and Swarge was at the tiller sweep. The guardsman with the pike had stepped up to guard the aft line. Big Eider shrugged, shaking his head at the waste, and stooped down to unfasten the moorage line from Tarman’s cleat. He tossed it overboard and Tarman floated free. “To your poles!” Swarge sang out, and the crew moved as if they had one mind.
“Tarman?” Leftrin pleaded quietly, and the liveship responded with an unseen but powerful kick of his hidden hind legs. Leftrin was glad he was holding on to the railing. Big Eider gave a whoop of surprise and staggered sideways as the barge surged forward. The cries of amazement from the watching guardsmen were both satisfying and alarming. Leftrin took pride in his modified liveship’s abilities, but also usually took care to keep Tarman’s differences secret. Ever since the true origin of wizardwood had been acknowledged, any usage of it by humans had not only been frowned upon but forbidden by Tintaglia. That the dragons he had escorted up the river accepted Tarman was something that he had attributed to Mercor’s tolerance. He never wished to have it become common knowledge. “Enough, ship,” he suggested quietly, and though Tarman continued to paddle, he did so discreetly, only enough to make it appear that his crew was exceptionally rather than supernaturally talented.
“We’ve got followers, Captain,” Hennesey called to him.