Mario crouched in the treetop, focused and tense like a cat on the hunt. If his observations from this morning were correct, the guards would change in a couple of minutes. Two of the guards would then remain at their positions near the gate, and two would start the rounds, each accompanied by a mabari. One round took them approximately ten minutes – more than enough to sneak through the garden, pry open the window and get inside.

He had no idea if there were any guards inside, but he hoped not – his goal wasn't the treasury, or the owner's bedroom, not this time. With this short a time to scout and observe the target, and considering the reputation of the island, the risk was too high. No, it was safer to aim lower. Rich houses like this always had a seneschal who took care of the daily business like buying groceries and stuff. Not so much that the lord would be too troubled by the loss – usually it was around thirty or forty golds for a whole week – but there was no need to get greedy. He'd already gotten more than the party had cost from pickpocketing; this was just extra, to make sure they had enough for the crew and any unexpected things that might come up.

The seneschal would likely keep it in a locked chest in his room – first floor, fourth window to the left of where he was waiting, and the man had gone to sleep about half an hour ago. Right now, he should be sleeping soundly and peacefully. From all that Mario had seen, this was the best option on this street. The security was reasonably high, just like he liked it – too much, and you risked being hanged, too low and you risked a much worse fate. Rich houses with suspiciously low security always meant trouble. There was a house in Denerim, not a single guard or a mabari protecting it, but no Lizard ever dared to approach it. If half the rumors about the crazy mage living there and his weird magic traps were true, being hanged was a much better option. At least it was over relatively quickly.

This house, however, looked like a nice, solid average. The owner was a merchant, rich but not at the top, with two lads around Baby's age and a moderate household staff. And four fucking mabaris.

There they were now: the new guards, walking briskly and determinedly around the garden shed, the ugly drooling beasts at their heels. Mario shook his head: how could anyone say those mongrels were cute? Okay, time to go. Wrapped in shadows, he slid down the tree and, crouching as low as he could, prowled across the vegetable patches. Even if anyone were peering out of a window now, they would think it was a stray cat.

Prying the window open was a matter of a few seconds – it never ceased to amaze him how careless people were in that matter. Did they truly expect a couple of guards outside might protect them? Well, it sure made his life easier. He squeezed through and crouched on the windowsill, observing the room.

For the seneschal of such a noble house, there wasn't much furniture – a desk and a chair right under the window, a bed and a footlocker to the right, a washbasin, and two tall cabinets lining the left wall. He should do the footlocker first. Treading lightly, he moved through the room, all the time listening to the man's breathing. Too shallow and irregular. Not good; he wasn't asleep soundly enough. Whatever. No time to wait now, or to change his plans. He'd just have to be faster.

To his surprise, the footlocker was unlocked… but as he rummaged through its contents, he could clearly see why: it contained mostly old books and journals and worthless clutter. Cursing under his breath, he moved to the cabinets, quickly searching for any sort of a lockbox. In the first one he found only several sets of livery and a few boxes with shoes in different states of shabbiness. In the second one, the one furthest from the window, he found what he was looking for: a box with a pretty good lock. He nodded appreciatively. Not that it helped much, not to a thief of his level, but it showed the people in the house were not complete fools.

His breath hitched as he opened the lid – there was much more than he'd expected, all of the coins neatly stacked in columns of ten, the gold separated from the silver and the copper. Mario chuckled under his breath – counting his loot was never this easy. Fifty gold, seventy six silver, thirty one copper. Ah, he loved the fastidious guys. He stuffed all the columns into the two leather pouches he'd brought, and tied them to his belt. Okay, time to go. He turned to the window – and came face to face with the seneschal, sitting up in his bed. Fuck!

"Hugh, is that you?" the old man rasped. One of the protective glyphs Attrei put on Mario's clothes went off.

Fuck, what now? He could agree, let the man fall asleep again and find out his mistake in the morning – but he'd have to leave by the doors and navigate through the house to find an exit…

"Who are you?" the man said, his voice tinged by fear. "What are you doing here? Guards! Guards!" He tried to scramble out of the bed and block his way, but by that time, Mario was already on the desk. Out – down – through the garden – maybe he could still make it…

The angry bark of a mabari ruined that hope. Mario sprinted to the tree, the beast right at his heels. The other one was coming now, too, followed by yelling guards. Several lights in the house went on. The few yards to the tree suddenly seemed miles long.

He grabbed for the lowest branches, trying to pull himself up. Too late! A searing pain exploded in his leg, and he landed on the ground. The mabari jumped at him, going for his throat. Fuckfuckfuck I'm gonna die here it'll tear me apart I can't die not yet- Pure panic led his hand to his knife. Without knowing what he was doing, he dug it into the beast's neck, burying it right up to its handle. The mabari yelped and collapsed on him. In a surreal rush, Mario yanked his knife out and pulled himself up the tree mere seconds before the other mabari's jaws snapped shut behind him, missing him by an inch.

But he was not safe yet. He had less than a minute before the guards opened the gate and came running after him – with mabaris who now had his scent. His left leg felt like it was torn to pieces, but there was no time to stop, to pause, to even catch a breath. Uncorking a vial while running was difficult, but he finally managed to open it and take a few quick swallows. That should keep him moving… but where? He could not go back to the inn with the mabaris hot on his trail. He needed to lose them somewhere…

Trying to ignore the pain and dizziness that were attempting to overwhelm him, he headed for the docks.

oOo

One thing Mario liked about mabaris was that they couldn't climb. And the guards, in their clumsy and clunky armour, weren't thrilled by the idea of jumping around the roofs. Even if they were, they couldn't. When you were on the supposedly good side of the law – the easily irritable side, from Mario's experience – you had to do things properly. The guards had to wake up the owners of the house and ask them to let them on the roof. Normally they wouldn't even bother, well aware that by the time they'd managed to do it, he'd be five roofs away at least. Tonight, however, they still had hope that they could get him, with his leg messed up so badly – he'd been dripping blood all along the street, leading the fucking beast right to him.

Listening to the voices below, Mario pulled off his shirt and ripped it into wide strips. It was a shame wasting such a good shirt, especially since the trousers were ruined too, but it couldn't be helped. He pulled another healing potion from his pocket, took two good swallows of it, then poured the rest into the wound. His face twisted in a grimace, but he managed not to groan. Not much time left – the guards had started to threaten the man of the house with throwing him in jail if he didn't let them in. He wrapped the strips of cloth around it and pulled them as tightly as he could bear.

There was the thumping sound of boots running up the stairs. Hoping that the guards weren't smart enough to go to the surrounding houses as well – and that his leg would carry his weight – he sprinted to the edge of the roof and jumped.

The wounded leg buckled under him as he landed, and he crumpled down on the hard slate. The leg was throbbing with pain, but he forced himself up. He wasn't safe yet. He had to move on, before the guards got on this roof too - he could already hear them running up the stairs.

Breathing heavily, he forced himself to move – he needed to gain momentum to jump, but it seemed impossible to run. You have to. Do it. Jump! The door behind him burst open.

"There he is! Get him!" A hand in a gauntlet brushed his shoulder.

He jerked away, and jumped, followed by curses and orders. But the timing was off. His eyes widened as he realised he wouldn't make it to the other roof. He desperately grabbed for the window shutter to keep from falling. Breathing heavily, he hung there for a second, then forced his body to climb up. Black spots danced in front of his eyes as he put weight on his leg, but he hobbled forward. Just a few more. Please. Just a few more.

oOo

Korlys' eyes flew open. It took half a heartbeat to realize what had awakened him; someone was trying to creep in through the window. Whoever it was, they were clumsy, he thought as he reached under his pillow and grabbed both daggers. That meant it could not be Mario.

The intruder was half in and half out of the window when Korlys reached out and grabbed a hold of the waistband of the person's trousers. Whoever it was, they were not wearing a shirt. The Antivan yanked hard, body-slamming the intruder flat on the floor face down, and straddled him. The man was soaking wet, for some reason. Korlys pulled the trespasser's head back and held the edge of his dagger against his throat, on the verge of slashing it when the man moaned weakly. "Korlys… help me…"

Korlys froze. "Mario?!" The ex-Crow leaped up and quickly turned up an oil lamp that had been left burning low. He turned Mario over. "What happened? Where are you hurt? Why are you all wet?" Without waiting for a reply, Korlys did a quick check, knowing that being able to quickly apprise Claudio of Mario's condition could save priceless time.

He found Mario's left calf had been torn open and crudely bandaged - well that explained what had happened to the thief's shirt. Done with the scan, he gave the thief a little shake to get him to open his eyes again. "I am going to get Claudio. I will be back in a moment."

"Mabaris… they have…"

Korlys grabbed the soft, comfortable pants he used to lounge around in and slipped them on, then rushed across the hall to the mage's room. He pounded on the door. "Claudio, get up – it is an emergency."

Almost immediately Claudio was at the door, a towel wrapped around his waist.

"Mario is hurt; it appears he has lost a lot of blood. Come quickly."

Without a word, the healer headed back into the room, and picked a robe from the pile of clothes on the floor. "Scusami, honey," Korlys heard him say, "but you need to go." A moment later, an outraged woman wrapped in a blanket and carrying her clothes darted past Korlys, followed by the mage with his case of herbs and potions. "Tell me what happened."

"I did not feel any broken bones. It looks like the worst wound is on his left calf," Korlys explained as they hustled back to Mario. They both knelt next to the thief. Korlys wiped Mario's wet hair away from his brow. "Claudio is here; he will fix you right up." He glanced at the mage to judge the seriousness of the situation by his expression, and did not like what he found.

"He is entering into shock," the healer said, and immediately cast a healing spell. "Help me hold him." He gently turned Mario on his side and unbandaged his calf. "Looks like he poured a healing potion into it – it has already started to heal a little bit. Smart kid. It is not enough for a wound this bad, but I do not think he would have made it back otherwise."

A small sound caught Korlys' attention, and the assassin turned to find Anastasio and Dante standing at the door. "Wake up Attrei and bring him here," Korlys directed.

oOo

"How's Mario? What can I do to help?"

Korlys looked up at Attrei, who was wheeling himself into the room. "I do not know, to both questions."

Claudio didn't even look up as he was preparing the needle to suture Mario's wound. "Stabilised and I can do it all by myself. It is bad but not the worst I have seen. You should help Korlys make sure I am not disturbed by anyone. Especially a group of angry guards."

As the assassin pulled on a shirt, he realized their window was still open. He closed and locked it after taking a quick look out in both directions to see if anyone was observing them.

Korlys strapped his blades on, then slipped his new throwing knife into the sheath at the small of his back. "Attrei, please draw as many glyphs around the doors and windows of our rooms as you need to. I am going to go scouting," he said as he pulled on his boots. "Boys, you do whatever Claudio or Attrei ask of you," Korlys added, as he grabbed his cloak and left.

Attrei looked at Mario's face, waxy under the candlelight. "All right," he said with a determined nod. "I'll need your help," he told the boys. "I have some chalk in my room. We'll paint glyphs on the lamppost in front of the inn, and the pavement under our windows." His brows furrowed. "Of course, that means the inn won't get any new customers for the rest of the night, but it can't be helped."

"Inns do not take new guests in the middle of the night, ser," Dante pointed out politely. Normally he'd never dare to do something as bold as correct a superior like that, but he didn't think Ser Attrei would mind, and he didn't want him to be needlessly worried.

"But, how will we be able to draw glyphs if we are not mages?" Anastasio asked. Well, at least not yet.

"You'll only draw the shapes. I'll infuse them with magic myself," Attrei explained. "We'll draw repulsion glyphs so that anyone who isn't already a guest will decide they have more urgent business elsewhere and they don't wish to come in."

Drawing glyphs sounded like fun to Anastasio, even though the reason they were doing it was a little disconcerting. Still, with Ser Korlys going to find out what the trouble is, and Attrei drawing his glyphs, we shouldn't have much to worry about, he thought as he followed Dante and Attrei out.

oOo

Korlys only had Mario's cryptic remark and his wound – obviously inflicted by a dog – to go on, but he wasn't an idiot. The elf was a thief who broke into noble houses; it was obvious that this time, his luck had run out. The only real question was, had the guards and dogs been able to track him to the inn or no?

The assassin's first step was to slip around to the back of the inn where their bedroom window was. He crouched down, noticing a spot of blood on the windowsill. But it was small, and before long, he lost the trail and had to take to the roofs to get an overview of the city to find the area Mario had likely been working in.

Quietly but nimbly, he made his way from roof to roof as he scouted the town. Near the docks, he found his first signs of the chase. Guards were searching the area, but not with the focused intensity of men hot on the trail. These were men confused and trying to find clues to continue the chase. The mabari with them seemed just as aimless, which was surprising considering what excellent trackers they usually were. Mario must have entered the water at some point in an attempt to lose them.

Korlys turned and started working his way toward the wealthier side of town. It wasn't hard to backtrack to where the incident had occurred – the closer he got to the scene of the crime, the more he found the good citizens of Alamar awake and yelling out their windows for the bloody guards to 'shut their yapping dogs up and let honest folk get their rest!' as one old geezer put it.

Finally, he found the house where the incident had to have taken place. The owner, an elderly man in an expensive silk robe and slippers, was still outside. Both hands were jammed into the pockets of his robe, and judging by the look on his face, it was more to keep his hands from strangling the life out of the guard captain standing nearby, rather than to keep them warm. Korlys sat on a nearby roof and drew his cloak about him as he settled in to watch the scene. Guards came and went, always delivering a negative report to the captain, which provoked a fresh tirade from the owner.

After some time, even the old man's ire could not keep the city guards there any longer; they had not picked up the trail, and were calling it a night. Korlys made his way back to the inn, checking back at the docks along the way, but all was quiet.

oOo

Claudio stretched his back. Once again, he had saved the day. Or night. Or the thief's leg. The wound was the worst dog bite he had ever seen – normally, there'd be a few punctures and it'd be enough to clean them and leave them open. Sewing it would only increase the risk of infection. But this beast seemed to have been determined to tear Mario's leg off, from the look of it. That the thief ran and jumped and apparently swam with the injury didn't help. Although, the salty water helped disinfect it, now that he thought of it.

He put away the needle and the thread, and carefully bandaged the leg. In the morning, he'd add a poultice, but not just yet; he didn't want anything to get into the wound. Healing magic would have to do for now. He changed the lad into a clean pair of breeches and an undershirt, then gently scooped him into his arms and carried him to the bed. After he piled the cushions under the injured leg, he wrapped a blanket around him, then sat down on the edge of the bed and poured healing magic into him.

Silly kid… all of them were silly. Including Korlys! Spending so much on nonsense like a birthday party with cake and gifts, and then risking their necks to get more coins. He glanced at the pouches with coins, now laying on the nightstand, and shook his head. What was the point? Although, the childish mageling or the naive thief, he could understand that, perhaps. But he truly expected Korlys would be more sensible and practical…

An image of the leather wallet and the feather popped into his mind, uninvited. He pushed it away. It was silly to risk your life for something like that. Undoubtedly. But the memories wouldn't stay away. The pure joy in everyone's eyes when they saw their presents, that smile on Korlys' face… Still, it wasn't worth it. Or was it? If it was all silliness, why did he feel that little pang of pride when Attrei called him a genius for choosing the right gifts?

Claudio shook himself. Ridiculous what lack of sleep could do to your mind. And lack of sex. The thief had gotten bitten at the worst possible moment… Oh well. Nothing he could do about that now. But he still could get a few hours of sleep. The brats were silly, but that meant they needed someone sensible to babysit them, no?

oOo

When Mario opened his eyes, the sky was just beginning to lighten. He felt oddly weak and groggy, and his left leg hurt like hell. The fucking mabari got me. But he was lying in a bed, not on a cold prison floor. Did he make it home after all? If he did, where was Korlys?

Alarmed, he propped himself on one elbow. "Korlys?" The assassin was sitting by the fireplace, watching him intently, but got up and came to his side at the sound of his name.

"How are you feeling?" Korlys asked, perching himself on the edge of the bed next to Mario.

"Like shit," he admitted.

"It appears that you are getting slow in your old age," Korlys teased.

Mario laughed. "Yeah, it seems so." He lay back down. "Did you find me?"

Korlys' brow wrinkled in concern. "You do not remember last night? What is the last thing that you recall?"

"I remember the job and the chase… the guards were after me and they had mabaris. I ran to the docks and jumped into the sea. Been hiding behind ships for some time… I'm not gonna forget that anytime soon; it was so fucking cold my balls almost fell off, and the salt in the wound stung like shit. After that, it gets all blurry. Last thing I recall was I was worried the sea soaked my bandage and I was leaving a wet and bloody trail behind me now."

"Well, you made it back to the room, but it seems it was a close thing. Claudio fixed you up, though."

"Was there any trouble during the night? I can't believe the mabaris didn't find me."

"There was no trouble. I made sure of that," the assassin replied. He looked towards the window, then back to Mario as he stood. "I have business to take care of this morning; I am interviewing a potential new crew, and then I must arrange for the ship to be loaded with provisions."

"You found someone already? Brilliant!"

"Sí." Korlys paused for a moment. "I wish that you could accompany me. I would like to get your opinion. However, Claudio would never allow it, and I can see you are too weak to do such a thing this soon."

"Yeah… I'm sorry." He took Korlys' hand and squeezed it.

"Tsk, do not worry about it, Mario." Korlys leaned down and gave the thief a kiss. "I will return as soon as I can."

As he fastened his cloak around his neck, Korlys added, "I am going to ask Claudio to accompany me; he is a pretty good judge of character, and much less credulous than Attrei. I would rather err on the side of caution when hiring a new crew." After a moment's thought, he added, "I will take Dante as well. He may be useful. I will leave Anastasio with you."

As the assassin opened the door, he turned to Mario. "Just concentrate on getting better. We should leave as soon as possible, especially after last night." He left, quietly closing the door behind him.

oOo

Korlys hurried to the docks, Claudio and Dante following behind. They were just in time, thank the Maker. It wouldn't have given a good impression to be late for this meeting. Korlys was impressed to find Captain Jack looking remarkably professional; he was wearing clothes so well-tailored it almost looked like a uniform, and was freshly shaved. The men who had made it on time were lined up neatly in a close approximation of a military formation, looking more or less presentable as well.

"Captain Jack..." Korlys paused. "You know, I do not know your last name." The Antivan was pleased to note that the man didn't smell of alcohol this morning, a distinct improvement from the previous afternoon.

"Farrow. Captain Jack Farrow."

"Captain Farrow, this is our ship's healer, Claudio Simone, and Dante." Korlys said.

"Pleased to meet you," Claudio said.

Captain Jack bowed to them, then turned back to Korlys. "Here's my crew; the men who survived, anyway." He led them to the first sailor in line. "This here's my first mate, Hawkins," the captain said. The man had blond wavy hair that fell almost to his shoulders, crystal blue eyes, and a thin dusting of hair – it could hardly be called a beard – that was neatly trimmed.

"Good day, ser," the first mate said politely, giving a small bow.

Korlys couldn't smell alcohol on him, and the man's eyes were clear and bright, so at least he wasn't a lush. The Antivan acknowledged the man with a slight nod as they moved on.

"This here is Fisher, my second mate. He and the first mate have been with me for several years, and I trust them with my life." The second mate was a bit older than the first, and had dark brown hair, and a swarthy complexion.

Korlys followed along as the captain introduced each of his crew in turn. It seemed they were short several able bodied seamen, and the ship's cook, but one of the men volunteered to take over that duty until they could hire a new one. Once they were finished, Korlys excused himself to confer with his partner. He took Claudio out of range of the sailors' hearing, Dante his constant shadow.

"Well, they do not appear to be drunk, so that is a plus," Korlys started, using their native Antivan; he knew it was unlikely they would be overheard, but it never hurt to be cautious. "What do you think?" he asked Claudio.

"Hard to say from just a greeting, but at least it seems they are determined to get the job. Which could be both a good and bad sign. None of them sound Antivan, so I think it is safe to assume they are not Crows. They could be cooperating with them, of course."

"True," the ex-Crow agreed. "Also, we do not have a whole lot of choices. We could talk with other sailors, but we would not have any more reassurance of their safety and competence as we do with this group, and at least they already have a working relationship with the captain. It does seem to be a good sign that the men are still willing to follow him, even though their ship sank, and he did not go down with it. Which I believe is tradition, is it not?" Although, it sounded like a stupid tradition to Korlys. What was the point of dying on a ship if you could escape?

"Sí, but it is a tradition I do not find reasonable," Claudio said. "However, it might be good to ask for more details about the whole accident."

"Agreed," the assassin said.

The trio walked back to where the men were waiting. "It appears you have a fine crew," Korlys said. "However, we heard you lost your previous ship and half your crew, somehow, and it is obvious that you did not go down with your ship. Can you explain why that is?"

Captain Jack crossed his arms. "When it became obvious that the ship couldn't be saved, I gave the order for all hands to abandon her. I got as many men into the lifeboats as I could, but..." Here Captain Jack's expression became frankly distressed. "Some of them became trapped in the bilge room, and I couldn't save them." The man did his best to keep his expression neutral, but it was child's play for Korlys to read him and understand the man immediately – he blamed himself for the loss of his men, regardless of whether or not he had any power to save them. "I saw no point in throwing my own life away, so I abandoned ship as well."

The first mate spoke up. "The cap'n is telling the Maker's honest truth. We wouldn't be standin' here willin' to follow him if he'd acted the coward." There was a general sound of agreement at that. Whatever the faults of the captain, he cared for his crew, and they stood by their captain. Even after an accident where many died, they didn't mutiny, and they didn't look for another captain. It didn't prove they wouldn't ever be able to be bribed and work for the Crows, but it did show integrity.

Without turning to Claudio – he already knew as well as he knew himself that the healer would feel the same way – Korlys decided. "That is good enough for me. We will work out wages shortly, but I assure you they will be fair. As for destination, we hope to determine that today if we can find someone needing to hire a ship to transport goods, but if not we plan to go from port to port, generally northward, until we find work." Korlys felt 'northward' was vague enough to be safe. He continued, "If anyone here knows of a good ship's cook looking for work, speak up and I will have a word with him." One of the men gave them the name of a cook, saying he could be found near the dockmaster's office.

The assassin turned to Dante. "Please find this Bill Turner and let him know I wish to speak with him about a job."

"Sí, ser!" Dante nodded eagerly, proud to be given an important task. "Should I return here, or to the inn?"

"Please return here; I still have a few more things to settle up with the crew," Korlys replied.

As Dante ran off, Korlys turned back to the captain and men, who were still in formation and awaiting further orders.

"You and your crew will need an advance on your salary to get personal items, since you must have lost everything when the ship went down. Here is a sovereign for each sailor, and money to provision the ship." Korlys wouldn't waste his time on administrative tasks the officers of the ship were expected to handle. "Please keep a ledger of the advance and any others the sailors may take on the voyage."

As he put his wallet away, Korlys continued. "I will send Dante to inform you when the men may start boarding and the ship can be loaded."

Captain Jack replied, "Yes, ser. We'll follow your instructions to the letter." The man was beaming as he turned to his men and started distributing their funds.

Dante returned, slightly out of breath. "Ser Korlys," he said with a bow of his head, "the man is on his way. I also took this note, posted at the dockmaster's office; a merchant is searching for a ship to take his cargo of fabric to Amaranthine, if you are interested in it, ser." He handed the note to Korlys.

"Good job." Korlys quickly scanned the notice, then showed it to the captain, who'd just finished up with his men. "Considering the job, what do you think is a fair price to charge?"

Jack quickly scanned the notice. "For this size shipment, and the short distance, I would say one hundred and ten sovereigns. But, fair warning, it's likely the man will try to haggle down to a hundred, at most. He may even try to go as low as seventy-five sovereigns, if he's a real scoundrel." The captain chuckled.

"No worries there, I have the world's finest haggler with me. I would be surprised if we do not conclude the deal for one twenty," Korlys replied with a smirk. "We will take care of that as soon as the matter of the ship's cook is settled." No sooner had he said that, than the man himself trotted up.

Dante barely suppressed a chuckle when he saw how the man's appearance had changed; when he had first met him, he was wearing dirty rags, but Dante had told him it was a job for a respected Antivan gentleman, and he clearly had decided to make the best possible impression, cleaning and primping himself for the occasion. "This is Ser Turner, ser," he said to Korlys.

"Ser," the man said with a short bow. "I understand you are looking for a ship's cook?"

"As a matter of fact, I am. My crew and I plan to set sail for Amaranthine. I am willing to hire you on for that voyage, and if you prove your worth, for a longer period of time. Is that acceptable?"

"Very," the man replied eagerly.

"Excellent." Korlys turned to the captain, waiting patiently behind him. "It appears we have a new ship's cook. I will leave him in your capable hands."

With that, Korlys was done. He turned to Claudio. "I hope you do not mind assisting me in the matter of the possible cargo shipment to Amaranthine? There is no one I would rather give the task to, considering your skills." The assassin's eyes twinkled with amusement – he knew how much pride the healer took in his haggling ability.

"Not at all. I do hope the man is a 'scoundrel', as our good captain said – it will be boring if there is no challenge."

"I am sure even the most egregious scoundrel cannot top you," Korlys replied dryly, as he led them off to find the merchant in question.

oOo

They found the merchant in a shop just off the main town square. Korlys opened the door, a tinkling bell announcing their arrival. The store was filled with bolts of cloth in all colors and textures.

The shopkeeper had the look of a pirate about him... although, this was Alamar. It seemed everyone here was either a thief, a pirate, or a former thief or pirate. Claudio wouldn't be surprised to find that the toymaker used to be a pirate captain, once.

He looked to be about fifty, his long hair pulled back in a ponytail – a possible nod to respectability, but the effect was somewhat ruined by the red bandana tied around his neck. At least the man had the sense to make it a silk bandana. He was darkly tanned, with dark eyes, and he could tell from here his hands were calloused.

"Ma'am, fifty sovereigns for such fine fabric is a steal, but I cannot find it in my heart to charge such a lovely lady as yourself a copper more. Now, with one hundred bolts of fabric, I am sure you'll want a wide range of colors. Just pick the ones you want, and if I don't have a certain color, I'll be sure to get it for you as soon as possible," the shopkeeper was saying, handing the woman a piece of paper that had sample swatches of cloth dyed in all the colors of the rainbow, all apparently in the fabric the lady had chosen. "For each color, please indicate how many bolts you'd like. Feel free to take this home with you, so you can match the decor of your lovely abode perfectly. I'll send a runner to you to collect your order... shall we say in two hours?"

"That will be fine," the woman said regally, as if she were the Queen of Antiva. As she turned, Claudio could see the smirk on the woman's lips, as if she'd just gotten the best deal of her life.

Definitely a scoundrel. The lady paid double the standard price. One hundred twenty, Korlys said? No way. That'd be a steal, for such fine fabric, no? Since they'd be transporting twenty times more than the lady bought, he should start with… five hundred, shall we say?

"Good morning, ser," Claudio said with a polite bow. "I am Gasparo Alessi, and this is my partner Giannio Calabresi. I am told you are looking for a carrier for your fine cargo? I might be of assistance."

"Well, I may be, if your rates are reasonable." The man's expression was still amiable, but Claudio could see both wariness and craftiness in the shopkeeper's eyes.

"I am sure we will come to an agreement," Claudio flashed a smile at the man. "I assume the details on this notice are precise? We are talking about two thousand bolts, yes? Of what kind of fabric, if I may ask?"

"It is fine silk and velvet, and therefore, requires careful handling. If I may ask, how long have you been in business? Do you have local references?"

"Ah, not in Alamar, no. We have been in business for quite some time." He turned to Korlys. "Has it been four or five years?"

"Six, but who is counting?" Korlys replied smoothly. He gave the shopkeeper a congenial grin.

"Indeed! Time flies when business is good, does it not?" Claudio continued. "We have worked in Antiva and Rivain until now, but we have decided to broaden our territory to Nevarra and possibly Orlais. The market for fine fabric is huge there and still offers a lot of business opportunities for a skilled merchant. You need not worry about your cargo being treated most carefully – we always provide insurance, as well."

"Well, that sounds fine. What will your charge be to transport two thousand bolts to Amaranthine?" the shopkeeper asked, trying the most obvious and elementary tactic of getting the other side to name a price first.

"For fine silk and velvet, it is twenty silver per bolt. The insurance is five silver per bolt. That makes, let me see... five hundred gold for all."

"Five hundred gold!" the man exclaimed in what for all the world appeared to be genuine outrage. "Why that's highway robbery! I would not pay half that for double the amount of cloth! Seventy-five is as high as I will go!" The shopkeeper folded his arms, his brow furrowed in a scowl.

"For such fine silk? Ma, che sei grullo?" Claudio laughed, then became serious again. "But, maybe we can find common ground? I can give you a discount of ten percent. Four hundred fifty, and your goods will be in Amaranthine in a week."

"Ser, you insult my intelligence! I know full well that two thousand bolts of fabric will hardly take up a quarter of your ship's hold, unless it's no more than a lifeboat. You will make money on all the other cargo as well as mine. That will more than compensate you for the costs of such a short voyage, with a handsome profit to boot!"

"I am very impressed by your knowledge of the costs of running a sailing ship, ser," Claudio said dryly. "But our ship only transports fabric. Seventy-five!" He shook his head in disbelief. "Ah well, if you want your fine silk stored in a dirty hold next to livestock, you can of course hire a ship with a lower rate…"

"Well, I suppose you have a point there," the shopkeeper reluctantly conceded. "But we both know four hundred and fifty silver is preposterous. For that price, I'd expect you to hand carry each bolt as if it were your very own child. And, I believe the insurance is supposed to protect me from injudicious handling of my goods. Very well, one hundred gold and not a copper more!"

Claudio shook his head. "For that price, it does not pay off to sail to Amaranthine, pay the crew, dock fees and all. Two hundred for the goods, and twenty five for insurance, is the lowest I can go."

"Hmph! You admitted yourself you only carry fine cloth! That means you are making at least as much on other jobs as this one. What, do all your sailors also dress in fine silks? Pretty pampered crew, that!"

"A good crew is hard to find, ser," Claudio snapped. "I do not trust any random thug from the docks to handle my cargo."

"If I may, ser," Dante said, with a humble bow, "I am but a deckhand, but even we are trained to handle the silk, ser."

"Hmph! You better have the smooth hands of a fine lady for this price..." The shopkeeper paused, his gaze turned away as he did some internal calculations.

"One hundred and ninety is my last offer," Claudio said. "I am certain you could get a better bargain – but not better service. If you want to risk your cargo with a scoundrel, or a dirty ship, uninsured, I am sure you could get an offer as low as one hundred and ten! But, it is up to you. I cannot tell you how to run your business." He put his hands into his pockets, waiting.

A crafty look came into the man's eyes. "Well, since your service is so impeccable, I am sure you will stand behind your work, and therefore subtract the cost of the insurance from your price. One hundred and sixty five, and my cargo is still guaranteed to get there in perfect shape and on time!"

Claudio frowned. "You drive a hard bargain, ser." He glanced at Korlys, as if he was unsure about the deal. "What do you think? Shall we accept the business for one sixty five?"

Korlys looked like he was considering the deal for a moment, then said, "I respect a man who knows how to haggle. We accept."

"The deal is done, then!" Claudio shook hands with the shopkeeper. "Half now and half upon delivery, yes?"

The shopkeeper nodded and they concluded the arrangements. The merchant would get the cloth to the docks with his own workers, and the sailors would handle the shipment from there. Final handshakes were given all around, and the Antivans stepped out of the shop, grins on all three faces.

AN:

Thanks to our wonderful betas, Bloodsong13T and Suilven, for all their help and support! You guys are awesome! :)