Dirty Business--The Tale of Kun To
By Al Kristopher
His name was Kun To, and he was involved in some rather questionable occupations. On the surface, he was a merchant--although sometimes his "honest" occupation bordered on the lines of illegitimacy. Kun To was a man who knew the right people--although many of these people were more of the "wrong" type than anything else. One of the more important people that Kun To knew (the most important person he knew was, of course, himself) was a man named Jesro.
Jesro himself was a rough fisherman who enjoyed drinking and fishing and drinking and singing in the local taverns and drinking and skirt-chasing and more drinking (he only got drunk once in his life) and maybe working with Kun To. Jesro was quite wealthy for an independent fisherman; his skills were highly sought after by the subjects of the Scarlet Moon Empire.
Another member of Kun To's cadre of questionable friends was a very quiet and very intelligent scrivener named Brewtus Oveneimer von Prindli, or just Bop to his friends. Although Bop could never boast the strength of Jesro, nor the wily ways of Kun To, he was by far the most intelligent of the small gang. Bop had once been a scholar in Greenhill; he had also worked for Qlon Temple, as well as the township of Antei. He was an elderly man with a clean appearance and a firm gait, and if he was paid right, he kept important records and documents for Kun To.
Nowadays, Kun To is the "boss" of Kirov (that is, he won the town in a high-stakes gamble), but in earlier days, he was merely an integral part of the merchant's guild. Being the second-in-command, under a cunning peddler called Veer, Kun To controlled a large portion of the "empire", from trading to imports/exports. He was even responsible for what was sold, the quantity of merchandise, and even its price--which, although it may sound simple, was probably the most important part of the guild's business.
But enough of that. Kun To was more than a cunning merchant and a shrewd businessman; he was also a wanted man, an outlaw, a gambler, a one-time pirate, you name it. The law and Kun To were more than mere enemies; it was almost as if they lived to shun away the other.
Here's an example: one day, Kun To hired Jesro and some other friends to steal several boats from a rival merchant. Kun To then stored the boats in a special dock for a year, painted them a different color, fixed them, improved them, and personally sold them back to the man he stole them from--at a high price, of course. The poor rival never suspected that Kun To was friends with the man who stole the boats, nor did he realize that his "new" shipment was in fact the very boats he had stolen from him.
Here's another example: one day, Veer discovered a grove of trees that produced a healing medicine in their sap. Unfortunately, these trees were growing on the border edge of the Matilda Knight's property, but that did not stop him. Veer hired dozens of lumberjacks to secretly cut down the trees and steal as much sap as possible. The trees would later be sold to Matilda as lumber; the sap's medicinal properties would also be sold to the unsuspecting knights. Nobody suspected a thing until it was too late.
But perhaps one of Kun To's finest (albeit mysterious) escapades happened on a beautiful snowy morning, when the rivers were nearly frozen over and the boats refused to move. Work don't quit in the winter, Veer had said, and the merchant's guild grudgingly agreed. Never was this more apparent on a bright Saturday afternoon--the same day that would bear the greatest profit and adventure and danger for Kun To and his friends.
On that day, the merchant's guild had received three very special and very unusual shipments. One of them was a briefcase full of papers--"important documents", or so said their client. Another was a sealed treasure chest--"evidence", but nobody was told what it was exactly. The third shipment was a living person, a passenger--"the guardian", said their client. He was a very young boy, roughly fifteen, and he shivered like a frightened toddler.
"It's not that cold, young mastah," called Jesro, wearing a wool coat. He smiled at the shivering young boy, who had nothing more than a tunic and a balladeer's hat. Bop wordlessly sighed, steadily walked across the large schooner, and placed his mantle over the boy.
"Here," he said. "It's not much, but it will keep you warm."
"Th-thank you, s-sir," shivered the boy. Bop allowed a very faint smile, then returned to his quarters to continue his studies. Kun To, steering the ship with frozen hands, stared curiously at the child. He had received three peculiar shipments, and he hardly knew anything about them. Oh, their content and purpose was not his business--just to deliver the cargo and receive payment upon arrival.
"Excuse me, are you the one called Kun To?"
"I am," replied the merchant. "Do you have any business with me?"
"As a matter of fact, I do." The mysterious man looked around him, making sure that nobody saw him come in. Silently, he produced several scrolls from his shirt. "I need you to take these scrolls somewhere safe," he said, more or less forcing them in Kun To's hands. The older man grunted and nearly opened one. "No, don't!" hissed the mysterious man. He sighed, and stored the parchments in a briefcase. "Whatever you do, do NOT read these scrolls!!" Kun To sighed.
"I guess it's not my business anyway," he concluded. "All right, I'll deliver these. Where are they headed?"
"I can't tell you that," whispered the man suspiciously. Secretly, Kun To became more interested in this "precious" cargo. They were just a bunch of scrolls that this strange man has been carrying with him. Why would he be so secretive with them? What could possibly be so important?
"Then how am I gonna know where to take these?" demanded Kun To. The man smiled and ushered a young boy of about fifteen years in front of him.
"He will know the way," said the man, pushing the small lad forward. "He'll tell you where to go. Just keep him and those manuscripts safe, and my friend will pay you whatever you ask." Kun To frowned, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.
"So all I have to do is sail this boy and those papers to some unknown place, right?"
"Exactly!" sighed the other man, a look of relief washing over his burdened shoulders. He paused briefly, and took out a small treasure chest. "This is the evidence. That's all you need to know. Just tell my friend that this is the evidence, and he'll pay you whatever you ask." Kun To eyed the box and the boy, his curiosity reaching an apex.
"All right," he shrugged, pulling the box into his possession. "Now who's this friend of yours? Can you tell me his name?"
"His initials are 'T. H.', and he has a younger brother. That's all you need to know." Kun To frowned, and shrugged.
"It's not my business to ask. But depending on where this place is, your friend might have to wait for some time. Can you tell me how far away this place is?"
"A week's journey," replied the man nervously. He looked over his shoulder, perspiring slightly as a small group of Imperial soldiers wandered by. Kun To did not notice them; he merely had Jesro and Bop load the guild schooner with the cargo.
"I see," he said. "Well, normally I take payment in advance, but if you sign a document swearing that your friend will have the money ready, then I'll make an exception."
"Bless you, sir!" cried the other man, hastily signing his name on a sheet of guild paper. Kun To frowned, knowing full well that the name was an alias.
"Tesla, huh? Well, nice doing business with you, Tesla. See ya 'round."
A week had passed with nothing to show for it.
"Where's this place again, boy?" asked Jesro, slurping at a small portion of stew. It was still bracingly cold outside, still snowing, and it was only slightly less chilly in the mess hall. Food was not scarce, but warmth was, and nearly all items of clothing had been donated to the mysterious young lad that was traveling with them.
He must be protected at all costs, Kun To had said.
"We'll be arriving there soon," said the boy, slowly slipping some potatoes and gravy in his mouth. He was normally a slow eater, but in frosty weather, all foodstuffs had to be eaten hastily or else lost to the cold. "We've been experiencing some nasty weather, so that'll slow us down. But don't worry, we'll be there within a day or two." Jesro frowned and gobbled up the rest of his meal.
"I hope you're right, boy," he grunted. "Boss Kun To's not used to sailing in such freezing weather. Let's just hope that we're going to a tropical city." The boy said nothing as he finished his stew, and Jesro left to make sure that the supply of fish remained constant.
Another day passed, and the snowstorm briefly parted. In the bright early morning, Kun To stood on the crow's nest, breathing in the thin, crisp air of a winter morning. He smiled warmly as he saw a tiny speck of land in the distance, and put a whistle to his mouth. A loud, sharp TWEET alerted all hands that land would be reached, and the nameless boy was brought up to see if it was their destination.
"Can you see anything, boy?" asked Kun To. The boy smiled, rubbing his eye gently.
"Yes, this is where we're headed. Make docking preparations in the first port town you'll see, and leave everything up to me. Oh, and make sure that Mr. T. H. pays you for your services, though, because sometimes he forgets these things." Kun To smiled in an almost-empathetic sort of way, and gently helped the boy scale down the crow's nest.
The schooner reached the town--Coronet Town, to be exact--safe enough, and once docking preparations were complete, Kun To, his two aides, and the boy searched for the man that was supposed to receive the cargo. It was not snowing just yet, and the bright morning was still clear and cold and very invigorating.
With nobody to greet them, Jesro and Bop made themselves scarce and wandered their way to the nearest marketplace. Kun To and the boy stayed behind, waiting patiently for their client's friend. After what seemed like fifteen minutes ("He's always a little late," warned the boy), they finally saw two men approach them: one bearded with brown hair, one much younger with long blonde hair.
"Are you Kun To?" asked the bearded man. Kun To nodded his head.
"Are you T. H.?" he asked. The bearded man smiled.
"Yeah. Ah, good old Tesla, always a little too cautious. Name's Tai Ho, friend, and this is my brother, Yam Koo." The younger blonde man merely nodded his head as he shook hands with the guild master.
"I, uh…" began Kun To, reaching into the briefcase with the scrolls, "I have something here for you, from Tesla."
"Oh, goody!" exclaimed Tai Ho, his eyes lit up. "The scrolls! Heh, this is really great! And I see that you've brought Big Tommy with you as well!" The boy smiled shyly, staring down at the cold pavement. Kun To nodded his head, and quietly produced a treasure chest.
"And here's the, uh, evidence," he whispered. Tai Ho's face grew grave as he gently took the light chest into his position.
"Thanks, man," he said, not daring to open the box. "You really don't know how much this means. Really, thanks."
"Ah-hem," grumbled Kun To, rubbing his thumb against his index and middle fingers. Tai Ho saw it and chuckled.
"Hey, Yam Koo!" he shouted, his arms still burdened by the box. "Give Kun To the payment: a hundred-thousand potch, and not a single coin less."
"Big bro's always forgetful," murmured Yam Koo, digging into his heavy kimono. He produced several ten-thousand-potch notes, and gave them to Kun To in lieu of payment. "Thanks, sir."
"My pleasure. Well, Tai Ho, Yam Koo, Big Tommy, I wish you luck with whatever that is. I'm going to stay here in this town and rest up, and maybe we'll bump into each other again."
"Sure, why not?" shrugged Tai Ho. "It's a small town. Besides, I've got connections with the merchant's guild as well. Maybe someday we'll be working together." Kun To nodded his head, and smiled wryly.
"Perhaps."
Kun To and Gules Burnside stared at each other, eyeing the other man like wolves over a slab of meat. It was a dark and seedy room, filled with the smoke of a pair of avid gamblers. This was their seventh and final game: Kun To had won three games, and Gules had won the same. This would be it, then--no more. Everything was riding on this gamble.
Carefully, the dealer gave Kun To a card from the pile, and he added up the numbers in his head. Eleven. No matter what he got, he would still be in the game. Blackjack was a favorite game of his; only Chinchiriron pleased him even more. Ever since the two started playing, the stakes went higher and higher. Kun To lost three-thousand potch, a boat, and a valuable pocket watch in the last three games; Gules had to fork over four-thousand potch, a deed to a small plot of land, and his prized fishing rod.
Kun To had all his boats riding on this last gamble; Gules had an entire town in the pot. Kirov had probably been ruled by more people than any other town in the world: over twelve different "bosses" laid claim to it, and Gules Burnside would certainly not be the last. As the dealer gave Gules two more cards from the pile, the smoke grew, the tension thickened, and Kun To was given another card. Seventeen. Only four cards could help him now; best to quit his hand.
"I'm staying," said Gules, holding a collection of five cards. Kun To mentally cursed. With his boats on the line and a cigar in his mouth, he carefully muttered the words that might seal his fate.
"Hit me." The dealer wordlessly handed the merchant another card, and Kun To's heart skipped a beat. The four of spades. He nearly cursed, or perhaps he nearly cried, but one thing was certain: Kun To could not believe his luck. The four of spades stared right back at him, almost smiling.
"I'm staying," he said, a tiny trace of nervousness in his voice. Kun To was not a great gambler, nor was he a terrible one; he certainly wasn't a very good actor, either.
"Show your cards," said the dealer blankly. Gules, the winner of the previous game, laid his down first.
"Give me your boats, Kun To," he said triumphantly. "I have a twenty."
"Shoot!!" cursed Kun To, slamming his fist on the table. Gules cackled softly, but nearly had a heart attack when Kun To revealed his own hand. "Kirov's too far away from the merchant's guild! What are you making me do, Gules? Start my own business? Go out as an independent businessman?" Gules cursed himself and ripped up his hand.
"Of all the rotten luck," he mumbled, grudgingly handing the deed to Kirov over to Kun To. "Ahh, but I'll get you next time, Kun To! You were just lucky!"
"Well of course!" replied the merchant smugly, tucking the deed in his pocket. "Isn't that how one plays the game?"
Years passed, and believe it or not, Kun To turned into a successful and responsible businessman and leader. Of course, he still dabbled in dirty business now and then, but soon those practices gave way to more legal affairs. He heard little of Jesro, Veer, or Bop after that, except to say that Jesro wandered down to Radat, Veer retired from the guild, and Bop returned to Greenhill. Tai Ho still kept in touch, but never mentioned the purpose or the result of that strange delivery.
Kun To grunted as he walked into his house. He was hungrier than a bear and Lester was nowhere in sight.
"All I ask is a meal now and then," he mumbled. "And I can't even get that! Confound that Lester, who does he think he is?" A knock on his door jarred him out of his thoughts. "Yes, who is it?!" he shouted. His demeanor didn't change much when he saw Tai Ho and what appeared to be Teo McDohl's son enter his house. The former man was a welcome sight, but the latter was a questionable sort. Isn't that boy the leader of the Liberation Army? he asked himself. Kun To shook his head, preparing for the worst. Well, whatever they want, it will just have to wait.
The End