Ship of Magic

Kennit inclined his head gracefully. He was glad to see that Sorcor had the wit to keep still and but watch how this was done. He waited silently for the offer he was almost certain would come. It did. Sincure Faldin allowed himself a moment to settle deeply into a chair opposite them. He picked up the wine bottle and poured a generous measure for himself, and then added more to their glasses as well. He took a deep breath before he spoke.

“And so, before we negotiate for but one more ship-load of cargo, I suggest we might consider the benefits to both of us if I were always your first choice, for many ship-loads of cargo.”

“I see the benefit to you, if you were assured of always having the pick of our plunder. But I confess I see small good for ourselves out of such an arrangement.”

Sincure Faldin laced his fingers over his extravagant vest. He smiled benevolently. “You see no good in having a partner always ready and willing to dispose of whatever you bring in? You see no good in consistently getting the best price for your cargo, large or small? For with a partner ashore, you'd not have to sell all you have in a day or two. A partner ashore would warehouse it for you, disposing of it only when the market for it was strongest. You see, Captain Kennit, when you come into a town and sell off a hundred kegs of fine rum, all at once, why, the very quantity of the cargo makes the fineness suddenly common. With a partner ashore with a warehouse, those same kegs could be held and sold off a few at a time, increasing their rarity and thus their price. Moreover, a partner ashore would not sell all those kegs in Divvytown. No. Why, with a small ship at his disposal, he could ply the surrounding islands and settlements as well, cultivating a market for you. And once or twice a year, that ship could make a trip to, say, Bingtown or Jamaillia itself, there to sell off the very finest pickings of your year's taking to merchants more than able to pay the best prices.”

Sorcor was looking a bit too impressed. Kennit resisted the urge to nudge him with his boot; he would only have looked startled and puzzled as well. Instead Kennit leaned back in his uncomfortable chair as if relaxing. “Simple economics,” he announced casually. “Your suggestions are far from unique, Sincure Faldin.”

Faldin nodded, not at all flustered by this. “Many great ideas are not unique. They only become unique when the men who have the wherewithal actually to implement them come together.” He paused, weighing the wisdom of his next words. “It is gossiped about Divvytown that you have ambitions. Ambitions, I might add, that are far from unique. You would rise to power amongst us. Some say the word ‘king’ and smile in their beards. I do not. I have not proffered the word ‘king’ to you at all in my business offer. And yet, if we applied ourselves, one might rise to that much power and wealth and authority. With or without the word ‘king’ attached to one. Words such as that tend to unsettle folks. But I trust it is not the word you aspire to, but the state of being.”

Sincure Faldin leaned back, his words spoken. Sorcor's eyes leaped from Faldin to Kennit. His glance was wide, full of wonder. It is one thing to hear one's captain speak of a desire for power. It was entirely another to find that a respected merchant might take such words seriously.

Kennit moistened his lips. He glanced down to find his amulet grinning at him. The wicked little face winked up at him, then folded its lips tightly as if enjoining him to silence. It was all Kennit could do to keep from staring at it. He found he had sat up straight. Resolutely he stilled his own features and looked away from the wizardwood charm. He glanced up at Faldin. “What you propose goes far beyond merely doing business together. ‘Partner,’ you have said, more than once. ‘Partner,’ dear Sincure Faldin, is a word that my first mate and I hold in especial regard. So far, we have extended it only to each other. We two know the full depth of that word. ‘Partner.’ Money alone does not buy it.” He hoped that Sorcor would not miss that reminder of mutual loyalty. Faldin was looking a bit alarmed now. Kennit smiled at him. “However. We are still listening,” he pointed out to Faldin. Once more he leaned back in his chair.

The merchant took a deep breath. He glanced from one man to another, as if assessing them. “I see what you do, sirs. You gather not only wealth, but influence. The loyalty of men and the power of ships are behind that loyalty. But what I have to offer you is something not as easily gathered. Something that only time can establish.” He paused for emphasis. “Respectability.”

Sorcor shot Kennit a puzzled glance. Kennit made a tiny motion of his hand. Hold, the hand motion told him. Stand as you are. “Respectability?” Kennit put an edge of mockery on the word.