Alchimia Rex (038 & 039)

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[038] [Good Business]

To Yasir, the world had a pattern. Cultures, people, and customs shifted and changed, but there were always similarities. Orcs would pay homage to the sun, while elves would take care of the plants and build their homes in harmony with the trees and grass. Even humans had their own pattern, one that emphasized being kind to others and being cautious around maidens. At its worst, this caution turned to paranoia and hate, and at its best, it was nothing more than a watchfulness of the maiden’s personal space and behavior.

It was a lesson that humans would learn, sometimes harshly, as a simple unintended gesture could cause serious injury to a man.

In this world of patterns, Rick Cross stood out as a discordant note. He was like a verse made up of the right words, but arranged in the wrong order. Yasir found it fascinating to observe this man as he moved into a woman’s space and claimed it without hesitation.

Just like now.

Rick approached the knight with firm steps, a maiden he did not know, stepping into her sword’s reach and continuing into the reach of her hand with a serene smile.

The maiden hurried to kneel, but the clatter of armor halted with a gesture of the city’s unofficial ruler. “No need for formalities. Call me Rick, I hope we can work well together.” He offered the hand to shake as if he were talking to a fellow man, uncaring for the bone-crushing strength the maiden could wield at a thought.

Yet it was the maiden who was at a disadvantage. Not only was she speaking to the Lord, but to a human. In a kingdom where a maiden’s freedom and standing was inferior, to the point of being deemed property… The knight looked at his hands as if they were wrapped in poisonous barbs, to take the offer could be seen as an offense, but to not do so could be worse.

Before she could decide on whether to take the risk, Rick had already reached down and grasped her hand, giving it a firm shake and a gentle smile.

“Miss Claudia, am I correct in assuming you wish to remain bonded to Sir Whitneye?” Rick waited for a heartbeat, releasing the maiden’s hand but remaining within her striking range.

She fidgeted like a child under the scornful gaze of a teacher, eyes glued to the ground. “If the Lord-”

“I don’t care about polite tones and pretty words.” He dismissed her attempt to placate him with the same ease one would a half-hearted compliment. “If you want to remain with Sir Whitneye, you can, if you don’t want to, then you can leave. The same goes if you want to work as something other than a knight.”

The knight paled, eyes wide, mouth agape, and looking at the prospect of her dismissal with horror. Yasir stepped in before the miscommunication could escalate. “Knight Claudia, would it be correct to assume you wish to continue as a knight under sir Whitneye?”

The maiden nodded emphatically, taking half a step back from Rick and placing her hands behind her back as she nodded a second time. “Yes. Sir Whitneye has been nothing but an exemplary leader.”

“And as a partner?” Kiara coaxed with a twinkle in her eyes.

“Y-yes.” She flustered, coughing a little. “I am happy to be in Sir Whitneye’s service.” Her eyes quickly glanced at Rick, gauging his response. Yasir cringed in sympathy at the Succubus’ teasing. In lands where maidens were property, there was never a shortage of rumors of higher nobility opting to take favors in flesh and pleasure.

Rick, either by choice or ignorance of the game Kiara was playing, pushed the conversation onward. “I want someone who can teach groups of maidens some basic discipline and combat. The goal is to train as many people as possible into a proper militia that can double as a policing force. Your pay would be besides your work as a knight.”

“If you feel you are up to the task, of course.” Yasir provided.

Another little commonality that was shared no matter the place. Positions that were achieved through martial merits had no shortage of maidens with competitive streaks and pride. Usually both. And as the merchant had hoped, the knight jostled, straightening and standing firmer. “Of course. I’ve assisted in training squires into proper knights for a decade now.” She gave a stiff nod. “Though the city has an acute shortage of maiden breeds that might easily take the mantle of knightship. Unless…” A moment of hesitation, swallowing. “The Lord meant… the Orcs?”

With a roll of the eyes and a slump of the shoulders, Rick stepped away a little, enough to remain just within the limits of the knight’s immediate reach. “Let’s just say the Orcs are not much of a prospect in what refers to… training. They’re more hands-on.” Rick’s brow creased a little. “What I want is to train weaker maidens into being able to operate together so that they can tackle larger threats. It’s to my understanding that knights train with similar goals in mind.”

The insult, intentional or not, caused an immediate reaction. The maiden tensed, arms slowly lowering from behind her back and to her sides, gaze sharp. The knight was trying to hide the dangerous edge of her posture as she inched a foot backwards. Yasir slowly eased a step away from the knight, eyes searching for the nearest window.

“I am sure the Lord is aware of how intensive and harsh a knight’s training is.” Claudia spoke with careful words. “Weaker maidens would not survive it.”

Rick stepped towards her, meeting her gaze without flinching, and entering her immediate reach once more. “I am well aware of this.” He declared with a steely edge to his words as he halted a mere meter in front of her. “My goal is to train weaker maidens into being able to work together first and foremost.”

Yasir noticed Kiara twitch and hide a grimace behind her placid smile. The Succubus in disguise’s nails were sharper and longer than seconds prior, the maiden all but ready to leap at her partner and pull him away from the potential threat. Yasir cringed inwardly, her reaction reminded him of when his own children would play too close to a fire.

It was the knight who broke eye contact first, lowering her gaze. “My Lord, is that… wise?”

“You saw the maidens in the plaza as well as I had. The only reason Thorley didn’t slaughter them was because he did not need to make the effort, not because of any real threat.” He pointed out the window. “This city needs a bigger fighting force. We won’t be able to survive otherwise.”

She moved her hands behind her back once more. “Is… that an order, my Lord?”

“No.” Only then did Rick step away from the maiden, turning to meet Kiara’s gaze. They spoke without words, the Succubus widening her eyes and tightening her lips, trying to get him to break the silence to the confused knight who looked entirely unsure on whether she’d just been dismissed or not.

Yasir chuckled silently, stroking his beard. There was something amusing about how breaking expectations could destabilize someone. Particularly when it is in regard to the man who controls the city. A Lord’s favor was no small gift, and their disdain was no small punishment.

“For now, it’s a position for those interested in it. You may go now.”

The knight let out a small sigh, shoulders relaxing as she stepped out of the repurposed commoner’s house with the hastened step. Yasir could hear how those steps turned into a run once she’d turned the corner and was out of sight.

He could understand why. Decorum and tradition laid down rules, to break these rules would mean risking the ire of those above your station, or from even your fellows. But Rick, while holding the position and power, clearly abided by different rules. And only fools would play games where they didn’t know the rules and their neck was on the line.

“Room’s private again.” Kiara declared after a moment, loosening the neck of her dress, revealing ample flesh and cleavage. It was an expanse of softness that left the merchant feeling parched.

Yasir looked away before her powers could hold further sway on his thoughts. He focused on thoughts of his family, his children, and of his wife. Ahina had made a wonderful job with the protective garments she’d weaved for him, as beautiful and sturdy as they were soft, the silk caressing his body and igniting-.

“Stop it.” Rick’s voice came with a yelp. The unofficial Lord of the city had just yanked Kiara’s tail through her dress, the Succubus spun to glare at him.

Yasir flustered a little, tugging at his beard, enough to hurt a little. “That was… very mean of you, my Lady.”

“Bah, I know the things you and that Spinner get to. You ought to apply some better screening protections, anyone can sense what’s going on if they fly a little too closely overhead.” She replied with a good-natured laugh.

Yasir sputtered, nearly choking on his own tongue. His face was fiery under his beard. “That is not a proper subject!”

“You…?” Rick’s tone was cold, but he cut off his own response before he could finish it. There was a fury about the way he looked away, almost pained.

“Relax.” Kiara purred, coyly pressing her body against the Lord’s, stroking his cheek, drawing his gaze to meet her own. Her arm wrapped around the man’s waist possessively, her hand on his chest apologetic even as her eyes glimmered with amusement.

The ice in Rick’s shoulders was slow to melt, but the Succubus was nothing if patient. It was like a teacher calming down the hot-tempered student, the maiden whispering sweet words into the Lord’s ears until the man finally let out a soft nod. “Later, ok?” He promised, returning her touch.

A man who treated a charmer no different from he would anyone else. The strength was also a weakness. People were not equal in all ways, particularly maidens. A Succubus required more energy than any one human could ever supply, and just as all Orcs would give homage to the sun, for it nourished them, a Succubus would do the same towards sexual desires.

“That… covers the training part of the militia equation.” The new Lord of the city sat down, his lap quickly being occupied by the sole maiden within the room.

“Who do you plan to put in charge of the unit?” Kiara wondered, eyes locked on Rick’s chin, a nail flicking against the stubble.

Yasir had the distinct desire to be the one with such a nubile pretty thing on his lap. Fortune above he loved his wife, but now that the Succubus had relaxed, he could feel her power making him flush and hot. The robes, once meant for protection, were now causing his body to swelter.

“They’re independent.” Rick waved the question off as if being in direct contact with the seductress was nothing out of the ordinary. He idly focused his gaze on the wooden beams above. “Having the people work together to make the streets safer is better than having nothing at all. It’s not like we have the resources to set something up.” He rubbed at the bridge of his nose, urging Kiara’s touch elsewhere, she settled on his neck.

Yasir tugged a little harder at his beard, curling his toes against the little wooden pinprick within his shoe. The pain was a trickle of cold to combat the suffusing warmth. “Safer streets are always better.”

“Yeah, that.” Rick closed his eyes, breathing in. “We then get to check what works best where, and recruit the talent wherever it pops up.”

The merchant realized there was a scent in the air, of incense and tea leaves, his favorite. “What of the crooks? Who will pass judgment?” It was with sweaty fingers that he pulled at the neck of his shirt to allow his body to breathe a little.

“I thought Sir Whitneye would deal with that?”

“A constable enforces the law. His duties do not include judgment.” Kiara chided with a soft boop of Rick’s nose, laughing with the sound of a thousand chimes, her body glowing with the allure of a precious gemstone.

Yasir swallowed, unable to look away as the maiden’s beauty only grew as she relaxed against the statue of a man. The merchant could only swallow the jealousy, thoughts fizzling against the hot iron of desire. No wonder Urtha herself could not find a way to enter the man’s bed when there was someone like Kiara glued to his side in such a way. “There…” His throat was parched, the man took a drink from the nearest mug, but it relieved nothing.

“Are you alright?” Rick’s eyes were upon him, entirely ignorant of the impossible attractive force that Kiara supposed. A frown followed as he looked down at Kiara. “You’re doing it again.”

The Goddess of Fortune made flesh perked in shock, her hair, the color of oasis water, shifted from an invisible wind, her immaculate face the proclamation of perfection, her bosom, nurturer of life itself and-.

“What?”

Yasir blinked. The room no longer glowed, Kiara was no longer divinity made flesh but an incredibly beautiful maiden using the Lord like a glorified chair. Her golden eyes scorned the merchant. “Do you have anything else you need?”

“Just… one minute, my Lady.” He spoke, drinking some more, body still too hot, briefs too tight. “The… the city lost its judge… before the rush. Their apprentice…” Thoughts came through flustered breaths and a face that burned.

“Yes, yes, Arietta, formerly the judge’s wife, became the wife of the apprentice. Things went south, the ferals came, the apprentice became plant-feed, and she’s now the property of some merchant called Rollo.”

The mug shattered in Yasir’s grip, eyes widening. There were a thousand curses that failed to leave his clenched jaw, face growing so hot his beard would’ve probably ignited there and then.

“You know him?” Rick asked.

“I do have that misfortune.” Yasir spat, not daring to foul the room with the name of the disease that inhabited this land. “When the rush came and many a maiden lost their partners, that… poison, bought them off of the Lord.” With a shortened breath, his knuckles rapped against the wood on the table. “That man dared to suggest that if my Ezili ever went over the threshold, he would pay me handsomely.”

The sound of the slamming door still rung in his ears.

Rick whistled appreciatively. “How about we buy all the maidens he has?”

Yasir shuddered, chills running through his goosebump riddled flesh. He looked at Rick with wide eyes and his mind was full of parchment that ran with red ink. It was a merchant’s worst nightmare: insolvency. The tribe definitely didn’t have enough to cover for-.

“He bought them from the previous human. We can buy them back plus whatever other maiden he has on the block for the same cost.” Kiara huffed, tail lashing impatiently against the ground. She gripped Rick’s face with both hands. “You are the Lord, you could just as well tell him to get bent and take them all from him for free. You. Are. The. Lord.”

Just as the Goddess Fortune, Kiara was a threat that could end kingdoms and destroy armies. “Though she is correct…” Yasir inhaled, organizing his thoughts. “The city might not take it well to… completely crush one of its greatest benefactors.”

Rick was still entirely unperturbed from the teasing presence of the seductress that lay in his arms. “Let’s put a plan together, by tomorrow hopefully.” He gave a quick glance at Yasir, then sighed, turning to look away. “Take some air, Yasir, I think you need a break.”

“I’m sure your wife will be more than happy to help.” Kiara chided in with an enormous grin, waving goodbye as he hurried out of the room after the polite goodbyes.

Working with that damn Succubus was going to be the end of him.

[039] [More than Money]

The Rollo estate looked like someone had taken a World War 2 bunker and put it through multiple makeovers. The first and most apparent being an attempt to make it into some kind of Victorian manor, adding asymmetrical facades painted with deep blue ornate lines marking the corners within the mathematical edges and giving it the impression they pulled it out of a comic book.

The second and less aesthetic addition to the building had been the massive wooden box that had been slapped on to its side. There were no decorations or aesthetic to the box, large, brown, and with carved out round windows at regular intervals.

Rick noticed how well kept and smooth the road was leading into and out of the estate. Particularly because of the armed guards standing at the gate.

“Subtle.” Eva whispered from his side, glaring from under the hood of her cape.

“Hm?”

“Twenty guards.” She pointed, then made a gesture with her head to the Orcs they’d brought along. Twenty in total. “It means he thinks they’re enough.”

Rick was no expert, but one look at the guards confirmed none of them were equipped with even a fraction of the armor the knights had, wearing pieces of light blue metal only over their torso and upon their heads. What he noticed, however, was the severe discipline in their posture.

Not that he planned to fight, the Orcs he’d brought along were loaded, each of them carrying large boxes that jingled with the sound of shifting coins.

“What do you think?” Rick glanced over his shoulder at Monica.

The Sabertooth made a curious little sound, drifting her attention over the line-up at the gate ahead and shrugged. “Annoying. Stink of many tricks.”

“Makes sense.” Eva mumbled. “He’s not of full nobility.”

Meaning there were restrictions on what he could and couldn’t deck his guards with. No amount of gold would allow him to give them the sort of enchanted armor knights had. How would he have compensated? The question left Rick scratching his chin as he approached.

One guard quickly stepped out of line and walked up to him. “Greetings, my Lord.” She lowered to a knee with machine-like precision. “We are honored by your visit, unfortunately, the Master of the house is currently indisposed.”

Rick could almost feel Eva’s condescension oozing from behind him. “That’s a shame. Give him my best wishes.” He replied, doing the little gesture that everyone took to mean they could stand back up. “I was looking to buy some slaves, would there be anyone with the capacity to negotiate with me?”

The maiden bowed. “I will confirm, my Lord.”

She turned and left, hurrying to the building.

Rick mused as his eyes kept gravitating towards the wooden building. There was nothing extraordinary about it. Somehow, it was disappointing. No crackle of thunder, no miasma or eerie fog, no dilapidated or any warning signs. Nothing that made it feel like it was the only place in Sinco one could purchase lives like they were objects.

It was… mundane.

Maybe that was what unnerved him. That the only thing that made that building stand out was his knowledge of what it contained. Without the certainty, he could’ve just walked past and never even taken a second glance.

Even Monica appeared entirely unconcerned about it, appearing more concerned with some scent she’d caught in the air.

“You figure the reason he presents the place so nicely is to make it easier for parents to sell their daughters away?”

The surrounding maidens twitched at the coldness in his voice, even the guards eyed him, while the Orcs growled in approval.

“I couldn’t say.” Eva whispered, lowering the edge of her hood and drawing the cape more tightly against her body to hide from the sun’s glare. “I shouldn’t be here.”

“And I disagree.”

Because Eva was the only person he trusted that had passable knowledge about the inner workings of the nobility. Kiara was a foreigner to the kingdom’s ways, Yasir would likely throttle Rollo at the first opportunity, and Whitneye was not someone he knew enough to trust for this kind of thing.

Their brief moment was interrupted with the figure that emerged from the house, a woman of all things, following the maiden. “She’s human.” Eva whispered under her breath. “They’re trying to butter you up.”

“You have better chances than she does.”

It was amusing, how the Fledgling stiffened under the cape.

He wasn’t lying either, the approaching woman was pretty in the same way a painting was pretty. Everything about the dress, exposed pale neck, carefully braided blonde hair, and make-up was perfectly in place, giving the blonde woman an air of sophisticated and controlled beauty. Which was to say that she was still only half as alluring as the average maiden waking up on a bad-hair day.

There was just no denying how every maiden looked like they’d been plucked out of a comic or magazine, and that was when they weren’t even trying.

“My Lord.” The woman bowed her head, lifting the edges of her dress. “I am Hipa, the first wife of the household, please, follow me.”

“I will take Eva with me, if you don’t mind.” Rick stepped through the opening gate, glancing over at Monica and the others. “No fighting.”

Hipa smiled stiffly at them, glancing at Eva and turning to the house. The woman promptly spoke about the building, explaining how it was a couple hundred years old and that it’d been around since the founding of the city and… Rick just stopped paying attention. The maidens inside the household gave off a far more dangerous vibe than the guards, they smiled and they did the little bows, perfectly formal and civilized.

But there was no missing that near animalistic way in which they sniffed the air, the sharpness of their eyes when they looked Eva over, and how they reacted upon realizing what Eva was, the way their gloved hands weren’t clenched into fists but opened into claws, how they flashed fangs rather than tighten lips. All subtly hidden within turns of the head and little gestures, trying to avoid making it too obvious these maidens were not the stiff soldiers at the gate but predators that had been domesticated.

“If I don’t mind my asking, what breed is the maiden you brought? She is very well behaved.”

Rick glanced at Hipa for a second, the curiosity in her posture was forced, stiff, nervously avoiding the Fledgling’s red gaze. Hipa knew, or at least suspected. “She is Evangeline, that’s all that matters to me.”

To her merit, the woman quickly nodded, gesturing them into a light green room that was sparsely decorated. It looked like a trial room, with the table close to one wall and with a line-up of tall wooden chairs that overlooked the rest of the room.

“Please, have a seat. What kind of maiden would you be seeking to purchase? I will call on our best.”

It wasn’t lost on Rick how there was a rather comfortably large sofa on the opposite side of the room that was too bulky not to be made of something thick and sturdy. The room was also entirely devoid of objects that someone with superior speed or strength might grasp and use as an improvised weapon.

He walked to the center of the room, sensing the tingling in his skin intensify. There was an enchantment here as well, he guessed it protected the “buyer” in some way. Rick sat on the sofa, fingers caressing the soft silk, and finding the metal rings where one would hold the chains.

Hipa stood near the door, looking at him with a fake smile and a fake relaxed posture.

“All of them.” He patted the sofa, Eva grimaced, but took the spot next to him.

The lady of the house hesitated. “I must have misheard. Did the Lord say-?”

“All of them.” Rick nodded, making a gesture at the window. “That’s why I brought all that gold.”

The woman’s eyes bulged, swaying as she turned to the door. “I… need to…” She didn’t even finish the sentence, closing the door behind her.

“Corsets are bad for one’s health.” He muttered amusedly, leaning back and pressing down on the red silk. “This thing’s really bouncy. Wonder what it’s made of? It’s not stuffing.”

The Fledgling scooted further away, leaning against the edge and staring at the door. “This is… substandard.”

“Really now.”

“This room attempts to replicate the slave rooms in the capital, but it’s a pale imitation.” She muttered, fingers tracing over the fabric. “It’s too soft.”

There was a longing in her red eyes, attention shifting towards the large chairs opposite in the room. From where they sat, they looked like a panel of judges. There was a subtle illusion to the room’s design, it was slightly askew, allowing the chairs to look down on whoever sat on the sofa. The door at this end of the room was also smaller, small enough Rick would be forced to bow a little if he’d used it.

The far door opened, and in stepped a ball of a man. Rick didn’t need introductions. “It’s a pleasure to see you recover so quickly, Rollo, I’d been told you’d been indisposed, I almost brought my healer.”

He smiled as the newest addition to the room looked between the chairs and the sofa.

Rollo was a man who wore his wealth like a second skin, with gold threaded to the tailored red garish garments, the man was like a Santa parody. He wore the crest of his household in the center of his chest, and in the rings that adorned his meaty fingers. A lion, fierce and proud, standing guard of a pile of gold, ready to pounce upon any that dared approach.

The crest was awfully similar to the one stamped on the tools used over at the fortress at the center of the city.

Rollo approached swiftly, hobbling to the center of the room and lowering himself to a knee. “My Lord, I-.”

“Please, there’s no need for formalities.” Rick waved him off. “Have a seat.”

The man’s gaze moved from the empty spot at Rick’s right, to the tall chairs on the opposite wall. “Certainly, my Lord.” He stood straight, and clapped twice, the door opened and two maidens entered, bringing a simple wooden chair, placing it at the center of the room and leaving.

Eva stirred at his side, back straightening and the maiden’s expression becoming more severe. “You’re not scared?”

“If the Lord wishes me dead, there is very little I could do to prevent it.” Rollo declared, the chair creaking under his weight as he rubbed his ring under his digit. “If I may ask the question. Am I to expect negotiations with the infamously reclusive Vampire Lords?”

“I’d expect Monica’s claws would warmly greet any Vampire trying to set foot on Sinco.” Rick smiled humorlessly.

Rollo glanced at Eva. “So you betrayed them.”

She clenched her jaw. “I have never and will never serve those monsters.”

The merchant’s gaze shifted from Rick to her, and then turned to glance at the window, slowly returning to him.

“Any interesting thoughts?” Rick prompted, leaning back on the sofa.

“I cannot seem to fathom why you would consider purchasing so many maidens, nor who to bond them to.”

Rick quirked a brow. “And why would that be of my concern?”

“I have several dozen young men, smart young men, who are to handle the bonds of all the stock, ensuring they remain healthy and don’t go feral.” Rollo replied. “It is not an insignificant expense.”

There was an offhanded edge to his words that gave Rick pause. “Are you concerned for their wellbeing?”

“Of course I would be!” The rotund man shook on the chair, a slight shake of his head causing his body to visibly vibrate. “I do not sell filth, no matter what others might claim. Quality of health and mind are of the utmost importance.”

It took a moment for the statement to make sense. “If I were to treat them poorly, no one would sell to you. Particularly if it’s a family member, or a loved one. Tragedy makes for good profit, right?” Rick tapped his chin for a moment. “What about the tribe?”

“The average human can only form up to ten bonds, the quickest estimate does not bode well for the men of the tribe to take up these maidens.” Rollo waved his sausage fingers dismissively.

“I’ll bond with them. Most, I’d expect at least.”

The gesture froze mid-air, the man’s eyes bulged. “That… is not possible.”

“I’m bonded to about half of the non-Orcs in the tribe, and the two leaders, one of whom is standing right outside. I’d be interested in finding out how far that number can go.” Rick’s smile was skewed. “And any I can’t take, I’ll get the tribe to help with.”

Rollo tried to speak, but his mouth did little more than open and close quietly. Then his brow furrowed, face losing a shade of color, eyes widening. “You intend to have them in your service directly, not sell them.”

Eva stirred gaze flickering between Rollo and Rick, the two met gazes, with the merchant’s lips curling in a distinctly piggy smile.

“I see.” Smugly, he wriggled into his chair, shit-eating grin growing further, flashing perfect pearly teeth. “I see, I see.” He rubbed his hands together. “I am sure we can reach a profitable decision on the matter for all parties involved.”

There was also the risk that, when confronted with losing all his slaves with no profit, Rollo might have opted to slaughter them. Yasir had not been kind in his telling of the money-grubbing merchant, and even he declared just taking everything away would be too cruel.

“I plan to abolish slavery entirely. Not immediately, that would cause a riot, but bit by bit. Starting with this nice little transaction.” Rick cocked his head, returning the smile, enjoying the way the smugness froze in place. “Seeing how you run the mine’s operation and also have your own little research going on, I thought that keeping things… polite… was the best way. Eva?”

The Fledgling shot to her feet, pulling out a piece of paper and offering it to the merchant. “That would be the price per slave. Since we intend to buy every available maiden, we expect a sizable discount.”

Rollo’s eyes bulged hard enough they nearly popped out of his skull. His face went from pale to red, the flabby extra chin trembling as the paper crumpled within his grasp. “Do you take me for a Doggirl chasing a bone!?”

Rick didn’t react, shrugging. “Not really, but if you opt to be… generous, in this exchange, then I would have a set of extra propositions for you.”

The merchant glared, fists loosening slightly. “I am listening.”

“I need to get your specialists to teach others. Whoever will learn, in fact.”

“Why would I do that!?” This time he stood up, slamming his hands against the armrests of the chair, wobbling on his feet with a tomato face. “You wish to take away not just slaves but hard-earned knowledge and expertise!?”

“You would get three percent of the slave purchase price, per month. For a minimum of a five-year contract.” Rick smoothed his pants, not entirely surprised by the reaction. “In exchange, you hold an open session twice a week. All your experts available for anyone to ask them questions for two hours. And I will bump that three percent to five if you also design some products for me.”

Rollo’s shoulders loosened, turning to the window and moving to stand there, looking at the blue summer sky outside, fingers rapping against his thighs in a very distinct pattern, almost musical. The merchant’s lips twitched, as if speaking under his breath, but not making a sound.

Eva remained stiff, looking ahead, though glancing at Rick as the former chemistry teacher mentally counted down seconds.

“What sort of… products? And who would keep ownership over the design?”

“We would share ownership, the city would keep half of any profits.”

Rollo scoffed. “Thirty percent, I would be the one needing to distribute it.”

“Fifty, the city would use some of their forces to guarantee safe travel to Aubria.”

“Thirty five, whatever you plan to create wouldn’t be guaranteed product.”

“Fifty, we are paying for its development in its entirety. Profits from selling it would be only diminished from transport and networking.”

The merchant growled. “Forty, you lack the contacts.”

“Fifty, I never planned to sell the product to begin with.” He replied.

“Forty five, I would need to figure out ways to make it commercially viable, and I’ve yet to know a single detail.”

“Sixty.”

A long silence followed, Rollo pulled his arms back, turning to look at him with a scowl. “You do not play the game of merchants well, my Lord.”

“I’m an outworlder.” Rick leaned against the armrest, smiling amusedly. “I take it you know what that means, right?”

The man’s whole body shuddered, hiding his widening eyes as he turned to look out the window to hide his expression. “Sixty it is.” His hands were clenched shut, there was a tremble in his voice. “Having agreed to this, what… would be the product you wish to create?”

“The first product I wish for you to create is a piece of equipment that can suck air or liquids out of a container until there is only a vacuum, and that can dump them into a second container, sustaining a heightened output pressure that can be regulated.”

Rollo nodded. “That shouldn’t be too hard, what would-?”

“It needs to be strong enough to compress three hundred units of air into a singular unit of air. Preferably said unit of air volume being the equivalent of a whole person’s body.” He sang the words out with a wide grin, lifting his finger into the air. “Oh, and do be careful with the heat and cold that such a process generates, it wouldn’t do if the device just outright breaks after a day of use. It needs to function for hours at a time without a break or repairs.”

“That… is quite the ask, my Lord.”

“If I could do it myself, I would have. But I’m not much of an engineer in that regard.” He shrugged. “Also, if you can apply and sustain a vacuum to lightbulbs, their life-cycle would likely last far longer.”

The man combed his hair through sweaty fingers. “I… see.” He muttered, gaze turning distant, not looking at anything in particular.

Rick could almost hear the man’s imagination running wild with questions regarding what they could use the device for. If the guy found some neat utility, that would be nice, but he was mostly preoccupied with getting some decent lab and industrial equipment. The Haber-Bosch process was at the top of the list of priorities. It was the easiest way to mass-produce ammonia, a key ingredient for fertilizers and explosives.

“My Lord also came looking for miss Arietta, the Puppeteer.” Eva broke the silence, reminding Rick of the last item on the list. She quickly glanced at him to confirm, and at his nod, relaxed. “Would she be amongst the purchased maidens?”

“Please bring Arietta.” Rollo spoke carefully, turning to the far door, raising his voice before glancing at Rick once more. “She has proven to be an invaluable aid to the household, her skills have allowed a substantial reduction in injuries in our more dangerous jobs.”

“Glad to hear.”

Rick nodded a little, glancing at the door as a woman stepped through, bowing in greeting. “Master Rollo, I was told…”

Arietta was a young-looking maiden, perhaps in her late twenties. She was a study in contrasts, delicate yet severe. Her silver hair tightly bound into a clockwork braid cascading down her shoulder. Her face was like a doll’s, immaculate porcelain skin that was smoothly carved, punctuated by the steely glint of her black eyes. She wore a simple black servant’s dress that seemed to contain a corset inlaid into the fabric.

Her gaze coursed through the room, traveling from Rollo to Rick.

He stood up, smiling. “Welcome, Arietta I presume?”

“This is the… new Lord.” The merchant quickly introduced him.

The maiden’s face stilled, hands folded on top of one another as she looked from him to Eva, and back. There was a moment where Rick felt the briefest sensation of something brushing against his thoughts, like a tentative idea seeking purchase.

Instantly Eva lunged, placing herself between her and Rick, and Arietta recoiling, eyes widening as she pressed herself against the far wall. “What ARE you!?” She whispered a bit too loudly.

“Rick, she was trying to read your thoughts.” The Fledgling hissed.

“I figured.” He grasped Eva’s shoulder.

“Arietta, how-!” Rollo quickly rushed to the maiden.

“Stop.” Rick waved him off, turning to the wide-eyed maiden that was trying to compress herself into the wall and turn into a painting. “I’m not sure what just happened, but no harm, no foul. Would you be willing to sit down and talk? The city has some issues, and we’d like to request your aid.”

“How… how are you even sane!?” The Puppeteer spoke with a shrill voice.

Rick raised his hands taking a step back and away. “I’m… not sure what you mean?”

“Arietta!” Rollo hissed through clenched teeth.

She looked at him, swallowing, pulling her hands down against her skirt and taking a deep breath. Instantly she was back to apparent total calmness. “Excuse my rudeness, my Lord.” She bowed, lowering her head. “It was not my place, and the fault of it is entirely my own. I would beg not to consider it a reflection of Master Rollo.”

“No harm, no foul.” He waved her off. “Could you elaborate on… whatever shocked you? I’ve never seen anyone react like that before.”

“You… do you not hear the voices?” The woman’s face contorted into half a grimace, fingers clenching at the cloth of her dress. “Is that normal where you come from?” There was a distinct horrified edge to her words.

“I was looked over by a psychic not that long ago, and she didn’t mention anything of the sort.” At his declaration, Eva looked over her shoulder at him, blinking twice as she reached to touch her throat. Was she thinking of the bond? Rick pushed the idea aside. “It doesn’t matter either way.” A simple shrug followed. “I sought you by name because we need someone who’s familiar with the legal system in more than just passing.”

That got her attention. The woman glanced at Rollo, who immediately grimaced, frowned, grimaced, and then paled. “You…?”

“Would this be a request to myself, or the Master?” Arietta’s tone had shifted, cold and hard, a wall.

“Yours, preferably. I’m looking for someone who can help with the legal system.”

She nodded once, then bowed. “I would kindly request not to.”

Rick studied her stern expression, the posture of her hands, smooth against the fabric of her dress, and the way she met his eyes without flinching. Even though Rollo was right there, hands clenching and wringing his meaty fingers, glancing between the two.

“There is nothing I could offer to get you to consider helping the city?”

She raised her chin. “I am very happy here with Master Rollo.”

This complicated things, Rick grimaced. “Would you be open to teach someone seeking to learn about law?”

Arietta glanced at Rollo, the quiet unspoken conversation that followed had the merchant’s face shifting through colors like a stop-light that’d gone haywire.

“I… will teach, only if the student is someone worth teaching to.”

Eva had now joined the merchant in glancing at Rick’s face with extreme attention.

“I guess that’s the best I could ask for.” He nodded at Rollo, offering a hand to shake. “The paperwork can be handled later, I’d rather start getting those maidens out and about.”

The merchant was all too happy to get him out of the room and smooth out the final tweaks and details of their agreement.

It would be a long and hard day, only getting through two-thirds of them before his skull felt like it had become the tribe’s special drum. They had to call over the men of the tribe to lend a hand. By the end, Rick’s head was killing him, throbbing like his skull had become the new favorite tribe drum, a sensation that didn’t go away even with Dia’s magical touch.

There was much more work to be done, particularly arranging living and work accommodations for the “slaves”, interviewing them all to figure out what each of them could do or would want to do would likely take weeks.

That night, they got a receipt for the collars.

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