Hey there fans I know this is a quick update, however this chapter is short but necessary. For those of you eagerly waiting to see what's happened to Holo and Ranger, that's in the works as we speak. Stay tuned
Chapter 26
The Trade
Daylight arose gracefully over the snowy mountains of Yoites, with the azure embers of morning chasing away the veil of night cast shadows. The mansion, for all its intents and purposes, stood normally to await its daily function. This, sadly, included the darkest and most miserable chambers within its bowels. I speak of the dungeons where Lawrence and Matthias were condemned to dwell.
While any inhabitant worth its liberty could enjoy the natural sunlight, Lawrence saw only darkness. The light that would inhabit his prison came from torches in the adjoining hallway that faintly shown through the ill aligned planks of the cell door. The men at their posts had taken away their lanterns on account of Lawrence's silence and each time one would enter with a blazing torch, their eyes would burn and withdraw.
On at least two occasions, they had poison administered to them in their food, making them so violently ill that for hours they would alternate between vomiting and a type of delirium. They were also denied the opportunity to appropriately release their bowels, leaving a stench in the air and irritated skin while also being denied a change of clothing.
Their blankets were taken away, so that they may endure the bitter and dank cold. At times the functionaries, under De Buhr's cruel instructions envisioned by his own evil designs, would chain the two men against the wall then have blankets laid before them with a lantern burning bright sitting ore. This left them to shiver and stare at the idea of desirous warmth, but spend the night in a cruel mockery.
Truly the pain of this mental, spiritual and physical torment brought upon them a malice of hell not even known to the one whose hand conducts this passage. A torture so grand that only the Son of David would have known worse when he cried towards the heavens in the gaul of unspeakable agony, "Eloi, Eloi! Lama sabachthani?"
Those words, those final, precious words, uttered by the man who lived the best life our world would ever know.
Lawrence at this time was suffering a near equally painful cry of the heart. A pain that perhaps could have been prepared both physically and mentally, but perhaps not fully anticipated both spiritually and emotionally. Which caused the uprise of swelling emotion to climb from his chest and to his throat as he let out a cough to conceal his wail that overflowed from his eyes and down his cheeks.
Matthias saw it and crawled over to comfort his friend. The cauterizing of his wound had yet to prove its intended purpose as the tenderness in his leg welled greater and greater. After dragging himself up to Lawrence, he said nothing, only stared upon him with eyes of unequaled compassion.
Weeping, Lawrence had only the courage to say, "Do you think God is punishing me!?"
Stunned by his outburst, Matthias reactively took the sufferer by the shoulder and guided his head into his bosom, "No, why would you think that?"
"I had committed acts against the church all while having a pagan deity at my side, a deity I married and chose to live the remainder of my life with."
"Was it your intent to fight the Lord?" returned Matthias with utmost sincerity.
Lawrence could only shake his head.
"The Lord looketh upon the heart,' said Matthias, 'do not succumb to such fear, we will be rescued soon. Let us endure it well."
It was then that Lawrence, being overcome overwhelming misery and sorrow, began to pray. He prayed more mightily than he ever had done and let out his true laments. He begged for forgiveness, according to whatever his deranged mind conceded as guilt. He pled for the life of his wife and child and most of all, he earnestly prayed for release from his tortures by any means possible. He even went as far as to request that his eternal creator call back his spirit and leave his earthly frame to crumble away. Even death became a comforting idea than that endless sleep most men fear.
It was then that an impulse sparked in his bosom, a sensation so calming and reassuring that it vastly overtook his miserable state and sent peace throughout all corners of his flesh. In his minds eye he heard a voice, a voice that was his own yet spoken by superior will, a voice that seemed to say, "Relief is coming."
To what end this would entail was a mystery in of itself, but Lawrence chose to yield to the words expressed between Maximilian Morrell and his beloved Valentine de Villefort when looking out to the sunset on the isle of Monte Cristo, "Wait and Hope."
Jurgen was found sitting in an armchair he had produced in front of his window with his legs crossed, hands resigning on the armrests and eyes that peered out into the motherland with silent perusal. It was then that a light knock at the door caused his eyes to point over followed by his voice bidding the one who called upon him to enter.
It was one of his servants who went by the name Tefri, a native of the eastern lands, who entered with a series of documents. He came around the armchair holding them close to his cravat and waistcoat before daring to extend them to his master.
De Buhr's head mechanically shifted towards him with an unsettling melancholy in his demeanor.
"Forgive this early intrusion my lord, and it grieves me to disrupt you with these." said Tefri.
He then extended the documents towards the man who conducted all administrative duties within this pagan faction, who took them with the unsettling sensation that ignited a burning anxiety of how he would react to their contents.
"What are they?" he said while unfolding the envelopes.
"The bills of fair for the weapons purchased and shipped here…" he then hesitated which caught Jurgen's ear, "Is there more Tefri?"
With a reluctant lip that stiffened against his will, he managed to speak, "Yes, the tribunal is expecting their advancements."
"How far behind am I?"
"This is the third time in two months you have been called upon my lord to satisfy the interests of that time."
"Two months behind?"
"Indeed so sire." replied Tefri who feared the fate that commonly befell the messenger who doubled as the bearer of bad news.
He then demanded that Tefri bring him is quill and ink dipper while he organized the parchments on the nearby nightstand. He then signed off on most of them save one. Instead he began writing a letter then handed it back to Tefri while ordering, "See to it that these are copied five times over then bring them back for my signature."
"My I inquire of their purpose my lord?" asked the servant bravely.
"I suppose it would do well to keep you informed' sighed De Buhr, 'These are letters requesting extensions on the bill for the tribunal."
"You think it wise sire, to create further debt with the tribunal and not the outside parties?"
Jurgen slammed his palm upon the nightstand, "If there is anything I can buy at this hour it is time! Now do as I say!"
Tefri bowed and did as instructed. Jurgen, while sitting in his chair for only a mere amount of seconds, arose in anger and cast the nightstand over alerting the entire upper floor.
"How can I spend what don't have!" he yelled while wrenching his fists.
As he stood there gasping in anger and agony he looked over to see Cyrus, whose attention was called upon by the ruckus, standing in the door way.
"Forgive me my friend, but the situation has become more dire than I've originally anticipated."
Cyrus stepped in with a consoling intent about him, "So I've heard."
Jurgen, while sustaining himself over the armchair, glanced up to him and asked, "Tell me, do you believe your little army and Korihan can dispatch of the wolf wench and Laterneux's little do-gooder?"
The cold hearted man let out a slight chuckled, "I have known him a long time and if he is anything, he is the farthest from good. But yes, even gods and the best of the most deluded warriors cannot withstand the combined might of the Sawatii and my ilk."
"And what would be your reaction if I were to tell you that the possibility of a proper renumeration for your efforts might be less than what is hoped for?"
Cyrus began to contemplate then replied, "Is the situation really that dire to where you are considering to inquire of us to impart of our labors for free?"
Jurgen then held up the papers, "These are all the bills that have been collected in the last week alone. I've had the tribunal run the weapons to supply Yanaguski's people and here is who they've gone through; The Debau mining company for the ore, the Dunsham blacksmiths to make them, Starboard emporium to retail them and then went through the Nabakov trading guild to smuggle them up here."
"That sounds correct for the constructing and handling of product." remarked Cyrus.
"It should not have been a problem, for normally I would run the checks through Quatrini loans and services."
"The one you inherited from Stephano?"
"Correct, however the tribunal just sent the bill directly to me, which can only mean that Quatrini was ill equipped to levy the cost. That can only mean that either the market for weapons or ore has seen a drastic incline or that Quatrini is struggling to stay afloat in the sea of trade and commerce."
"So the debt dug its claws into your own personal fortune then." concluded Cyrus.
"I am nearly depleted and now to top it off the tribunal, as always, tacked on interests rates which I would expend themselves from my personal accounts, however I am two months behind on my regular payments and now the interests for the weapons is added to the capital. I have just received word that they are demanding acceleration on the total amount!"
"But do they not pay you for your ability to run this organization and conceal their involvement and connections with your position?"
"Yes, however the price they agreed to pay just barely covers my cost of living. It's not even fit to balance out the debt.
"Well then, demand the tribunal pay more." said Cyrus.
"They have their own establishments to fund, if I were to do the imprudent stunt of simply taking more money then they would become exhausted to the point of bankruptcy. And trust me, their would be retaliation far before that point. You cannot treat a wealthy establishment as a bottomless pit of resource or else you both will face financial ruin."
"But it sounds as though you are to be bankrupt as well." reasoned Cyrus.
"Whatever money I can spare to pay the tribunal would never be enough, selling this mansion and my assets might come close, but then I am a beggar out in the cold living a fate worse than those in prison. At least there you are sheltered and can rely on your next meal."
"Speaking of prisoners,' said Cyrus, 'It does cost money to feed Lawrence and Matthias, perhaps that is one expense I can cut from your wallet."
Jurgen sighed and nodded, "Perhaps that would be best, when I first took them I found use to use them as a deterrent or a ransom, and could use Lawrence for information. However, seeing as Holo and the hunter are about to meet their end, they are nothing more than a burden at this point."
Cyrus then squinted as he saw out the window, a figure of a horse who was galloping through the snow with urgent haste. Both he and Jurgen saw it approach and could identify a rider in the saddle who was concealed in winter garb. The horsemen dismounted at the footsteps then rushed up who was stopped by Tefri. However the man shoved him aside and rushed into the mansion.
Both men could here his boisterous entrance and his heavy footfalls coming up the stairs. The doors in the hallway were being swung open as the man was desperately looking for De Buhr.
"In here!" he called out.
The foot bends of the madman rushed to the source of the voice followed by the door being whipping open with the snow doused individual panting in the frame. He removed the clothes that covered his head revealing the desperate look of Libert.
"There is protocol in approaching us." said Cyrus with a hostile lash in his voice.
Jurgen raised his hand to calm him, "What news do you bring?"
"Nabakov trading, there's been a compromise!"
"What do you mean?"
"Evgeny, he is missing but his office had been broken into and all the documents regarding our affairs have been stolen!"
"By whom?" stammered Jurgen with pulsing alarm.
"The two you've been hunting. I saw them in Cross Iron earlier this week. The city was put on high alarm when the guild was attacked and there were reports of Evgeny being stolen away by a giant wolf!"
De Buhr became pale, "Did he say anything to his captors?"
"I have reason to believe that he did, he was not killed, so why would he be hiding?"
"Because a loose tongue will cause you to lose your head." came the retort of Cyrus.
Jurgen looked back to him, "If Evgeny so much as gave him a direction to where Lawrence is, do you think the hunter could find this place before the Sawatii can reach them?"
"If he has a bearing, then it is possible."
Lord De Buhr rose up his hands and began messaging his wrists then spoke with penetrating surety, "Pack all things that are essential."
Aswadi glared up his eyebrow in an enraged fashion, "We are abandoning our post?"
Jurgen quickly addressed his accusation, "It would only be a matter of time before our designs are fully discovered and to where one would come looking for us. However, we are near bankrupt, even if those two never reach this place alive, it won't be long until the tribunal finds another means to collect the debt I owe, which ends with them putting another in my place."
"To where then do you plan to move us?"
"I am sorry my old friend, to prevail the utmost discrepancy, that knowledge of where we will go and how we will get there, has never been uttered to anyone, nor has it ever been written on any record. And it never will."
Cyrus turned to Libert who sat dumbfounded, "Well then, make yourself useful!"
Jurgen stepped forward, "Order the servants to load the vessel with only the necessary of provisions, then I want you to do whatever it is that is necessary to ensure that we are not discovered until we leave."
"My lord?" uttered Libert.
"Yoites is slowly beginning to fill with all manner of people. Hunters, mercenaries and such. See what you can do to throw their course from this place if you feel this is where they are headed."
Libert bowed and exited.
Seeing the two alone, Cyrus then turned to Jurgen and insisted, "If you are then wishing to vacate then I will take the liberty of eviscerating two witnesses from your burdens."
De Buhr replied with imposing purpose, "I wish to come down with you and give them a proper send off."
They were both proceeded into Cyrus's study in which as before, he turned the bust of the statue and pulled out the mechanical book which on both occasions created shudders and slides from behind the walls. The bookshelf swung itself on the hinge leading to the dungeons below. With a torch in hand Cyrus led the way to Lawrence's prison.
Before the two sufferers could react, they were blinded by the stinging ambient blaze and viciously pulled apart by Cyrus. Matthias was held down to the ground as he drew his sword and held it at the ready for the plunge.
"What are you doing?" protested Lawrence while shielding his yes.
Jurgen spoke first, "You have outlived your usefulness, and now this is where we part ways."
"So that's it then, I'm sure even if I ever told you what you wanted, it would have come to this anyway." despaired Lawrence.
"No, I am always a man of my word' reassured Jurgen, 'however, our deal, like all deals is as stable as the free market. As a former merchant and shop owner, you should understand the risks of the market, how its predictability is never a sure thing. Prices rise and fall like the waves of the sea. One morning you may have a calm horizon then the evening may bring a raging tempest. Consider my terms with you on the same level."
He then nodded to Cyrus who rolled Matthias onto his stomach and wrapped the blade around his throat.
"You can't!"
"Fear not, Mr. Lawrence, you will soon follow."
Lawrence gripped his disheveled hair, his mind racing to save his comrade then the idea sprung quickly, "Then let us make a new deal!"
Cyrus, who had already began cutting a line at the side of Matthias's neck, stopped to look back at him then at Jurgen.
Jurgen disrespectfully laughed while swaying his head, "To ever even consider a deal with the opposing party you must have something of value."
"There is something of value I have that I can trade with." Lawrence returned quickly.
"Whatever it is you know of Holo, has lost all value to me." said De Buhr who was about to give the signal to have Matthias executed.
"I can get you your money back!" yelled Lawrence with all desperation.
Jurgen then held his order, "What did you say?"
"I know how close you are to bankruptcy. You're in trouble, more trouble than you would like to admit, that's why you're killing us isn't it. You're abandoning all hope and running to try and get away from your creditors, because you know they'll be after your head when they learn you can't pay them back. You're in danger, when Stephano was killed you took over his company, putting the others on suspicion of foul play. And after all these years of investing in you, you're about to fall so short that they'll dethrone you once they discover your situation."
Jurgen's eyes widened and began to become pale and slightly tremble.
Lawrence continued when seeing his reaction, "I can help you regain your fortune, I've helped numerous guilds and trading companies throughout my time as a traveling merchant, you'd be no different. Spare us now, we can make a new deal."
"How do you know…"
"That doesn't matter, what does matter is that I can save your life and your empire if you'll let me."
Cyrus shook his head, "You will be so foolish as to think he'd throw his lot in with you, a man who has every motive into being a sworn enemy?"
Lawrence looked back to Jurgen, "Like you said the market is unpredictable. But you can always consider possibilities, and the possibilities I see, is you either being hunted down and found by Holo and the Alpha, or going bankrupt and being at the mercy of your organization. The market may be unpredictable at times, but in your case it is predictable to see a dark future ahead. You literally can be killing your only chance to save your own life. Think very hard about what you want to do."
Jurgen paced around and stroked his chin with deep thought and consideration. He rested a hand on the stonewall ahead while wrapping his fingers to and fro. Matthias breathed deep and pulled his throat away from the blade when the grip of Cyrus began to falter.
Jurgen came around with his decision and asked, "What terms do you propose?"
Cyrus nearly dropped his sword.
Lawrence attempted to keep it moderate, "Obviously better living conditions for the both of us, treatment for Matthias's leg and for us to be humanely provided for for the rest of our time being spent in your company."
De Buhr nodded stilly, "These can be arranged, however do know that if so much as a whiff or jot of suspicion of foul play is detected, the both of you will be brought to a bloody end."
"Do we have a deal then?" said Lawrence who ignored the latter end of the proposal who pled for acceptance.
Jurgen stepped forth and haunched down to his level, then extended forth his hand. Lawrence gazed upon it as one would a ray of light in an unending tunnel. He took it and shook in which Jurgen looked towards Cyrus and said, "Loose them and bring them up."
The dark tunic was beyond flabbergasted, and more resentful that he was denied the chance for blood shed. But he did as instructed.
Soon after, additional servants took them away, and by Jurgen's orders, had them groomed and nourished. The most Matthias could say to what Lawrence had just done was, "Rendering aid to the enemy is not a common practice among intelligent men of good intention. Do not test my loyalties with you Kraft."
Lawrence then whispered to him, "You need to trust me."
Cyrus only muttered to De Buhr, "How could he have known…?"
As they were escorted away to be cleansed and relieved of their tortures, Jurgen turned to Cyrus and said with betrayed sentiment, "Someone has been talking to him."
