Dreamer's Throne

“I think we should buy a carriage,” Garrett declared, causing Ryn to squint at him.

They were currently in a carriage that was heading toward the western side of the city. They were still north of the river, but as they got closer to their destination, they saw more and more guards out the windows.

“Carriages are really expensive.”

“Sure, but we keep needing to hire one.”

“But who would drive it?”

“I’m sure we could find someone.”

“What about horses? Would we keep them at the inn? We don’t have a barn or stable, and they eat a lot of food. Plus, they’re big and they twitch, which is scary.”

“Are you afraid of horses?”

“Aren’t you? They could eat you in one bite. And have you seen their teeth? Massive.”

“Ryn, you have faced all sorts of monsters and dangerous situations.”

“And? I can’t be afraid of horses? The two have nothing to do with each other. Anyway, I don’t think it's a good idea and Obe agrees with me.”

Turning to look at Obe, Garrett raised his eyebrows and was met with a stoic look.

“That doesn’t look like an affirmative,” Garrett said.

“It is. I’ve known him longer than you have, and I know it is,” Ryn shot back. “Plus, at our last meeting we talked about making sure we are being frugal. What did you call it? Financial stewards?”

“Stewardship,” Obe said, his eyes lighting up. “The correct management of resources to gain the maximum impact from their use.”

“Yeah, stewardship. We don’t have money for that.”

“Ryn, I’m the one who does the finances for the Family.”

“Hey, is that the place you wanted to see?” Obe asked, gesturing out the window.

Looking past him, Garrett nodded, his eyes raking over the modest mansion that stood on the corner. It was three stories tall, and a six foot, wrought iron fence stood around it, fencing in the small yard. In the back there was a modest looking garden with a bubbling fountain. The front of the mansion was surprisingly understated, with three marble steps flanked by carved creatures that looked sort of like lions leading up to a simple wooden door with a brass knocker. Counting the windows, Garrett did his best to estimate the size of the floors and realized that the entire thing was probably smaller than his inn.

“Ooh, that’s a big bite,” Ryn said, twitching aside the curtain to glance at it.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re casing it, right? You have a good eye, because places like that are sure to be packed with top notch goods. Even the cutlery is going to be a step above most silver. Did you know that the majority of the silver that nobles use is really just silver plated? These people probably have real silver.”

“How can you tell?” Obe asked as the mansion disappeared behind them.

“The gate, the carvings out front. The fact that someone dusted the outside of the windowsills. That’s a tightly run ship, with no inch of give. People who live like that have a high requirement for the things around them, which means the finest of everything. And fine things sell better. But that’s only half of the story. When everything runs like a well oiled machine, a single cog out of place becomes highly visible, so if anything goes missing, they know immediately. And people who live in houses like that normally have the money to hire the best dogs.”

Listening quietly, Garrett nodded.

“That is the home of Markus Parrow, of Parrow’s Fine Goods. Our competitor, and the person who just tried to have me killed in prison.”

Drawing a sharp breath, Obe’s eyes blazed and it looked like he wanted to get out of the carriage to go after Parrow right away. Stopping him with a gesture, Garrett smiled slightly.

“Thank you for your passion, but we are not going to rush into this. Parrow will be on guard right now, because his attempt has failed, but I suspect we’ll see him soon. In fact, if I’m right, he’ll be arriving at the inn shortly after we get back. We will not give away that we know it was him, and instead, we’ll play along with his efforts to deflect and slowly lead him into a snare he cannot possibly escape from. Ryn, one of the most important things in business is understanding your competition. I wanted you to see his home because it gives a good sense of the type of man that we are dealing with. Now that you’ve seen it, what do you think?”

“Detail oriented and ruthless.”

“Exactly. He shows no weakness, moves cautiously, and only plays hands that he knows he can win. But, like I said, understanding your competition is important, and in that regard, we are ahead. He has no idea who he is dealing with, and all of his information has turned out to be wrong, or at the very least, incomplete. So he will have no choice but to come and see for himself. Obe, I asked you to come because I need you to play along with me.”

“Sure, just tell me what to do.”

“He will be coming to us under the guise of concern, but really, he will be looking for weakness. So, we will show him weakness. Not directly, but indirectly. Just as Ryn could look at his house and infer who he was, so he will try to do to us. I need a gang that is unified on the surface, but cracked underneath. Do you understand what I mean?”

Thinking for a moment, Obe nodded.

“I think so. You mean like when the boss leaves the room, the backbiting and grumbling start.”

“Exactly. Let's throw a bit of greed in there. Nothing too big, but just enough to show a crack.”

“You’re giving him what he is looking for by hiding it,” Ryn said, realization dawning in her eyes. “That is devious.”

Smiling slightly, Garrett shrugged.

“The best snare is the one that the prey set themselves, because they will wind the rope tighter and make the stake sharper than we ever can. If all their energy is absorbed in exploiting our weakness, they’ll have no energy to spend on defending against our counter attack.”

As they headed back to the inn, they planned out the coming encounter, trying to think of every possible permutation of the scene. Garrett could have planned and executed it all himself, and it would have been easier in a lot of ways, but currently, his goal was to teach Ryn and Obe, and this was a wonderful opportunity to start shaping the way they thought through problems. Though the plan they came up with was not quite as meticulous as Garrett’s would have been, he was quite pleased with where they ended up, and sent them off to begin putting the plan into action while he went into his office to wait for Markus Parrow to arrive.

Sure enough, two hours later an understated carriage pulled by a team of beautiful horses clattered up to the inn and a smartly dressed liveryman jumped down to hold them. Looping his whip with a flick of his wrist, the coachman got down and opened the door, allowing Markus to alight. Watching them through the eyes of one of the men standing by the door, Garrett was a bit surprised to see that the coachman was awakened, though on further thought, it made sense that Markus would have a guard with him.

“Is this where Mr. Klein lives?” Markus asked the men who were leaning against the wall.

“Yeah. Boss Klein lives here,” one of them said, jerking his thumb toward the door. “Ask at the bar.”

“Thank you, gentlemen.”

Calmly making his way into the inn’s great room, Markus stopped and looked around, catching sight of a well kept bar across the room, and a few people at the tables that stood in the middle of the floor. Weaving his way through the tables, he caught a few snippets of whispered conversation, but didn’t show that he was listening.

“I’m telling you, I should have gotten the promotion to group leader. I’m way better than—”

“Hush! You know what’ll happen if the boss hears you saying that?”

Arriving in front of the bar, Markus looked around for a barman, but didn’t see anyone, so he turned around and scanned the bar again. A moment later, the barman came out of the back room, wiping his lips surreptitiously.

“Can I help you?”

Recoiling slightly as the scent of strong wine rolled over him, Markus quickly recovered and smiled.

“Yes, thanks. I’m looking for Garrett Klein.”

As he spoke, Markus slipped a silver coin onto the bar and placed a name card over it, pushing both across the bar. At the sight of the coin, the bartender started to shake his head and then looked around to make sure no one was near. Picking both up in a smooth motion, he nodded his head.

“I’ll let the boss know you’re here. Would you like a drink while you wait?”

“Sure. I’ll take whatever your specialty is.”

“Gold Glow Whiskey,” the bartender said, getting a bottle down from the top shelf and pouring a finger into a glass. “Courtesy of the boss.”

“Your boss has good taste.”

Smiling, the bartender put the bottle back and left the room. A minute later he came back and gestured for Markus to follow him. Garrett was sitting in the office, an account book open in front of him, when Markus came in.

“Thank you, Patrick,” Garrett said, waving to the bartender. “It's nice to see you again, Mr. Parrow. To what do I owe this visit?”

Searching Garrett’s face, Markus looked relieved as he took the chair that Garrett had gestured to.

“I really just stopped by to see how you were, and if there was anything I could do to help. I know that your recent situation is probably embarrassing to talk about, but losing money due to downtime is even worse.”

Raising his eyebrows, Garrett gave Markus a skeptical look.

“You know that we are competitors, right?”

“I do,” Markus said with a chuckle. “But I also know that merchants like us must present a unified front against the city guard. The merchant’s guild has taken special interest in this case, and though you are not a member of the guild yet, I believe it is only a matter of time. In light of that, I’d be happy to offer half of my plant to you for your use if you want to get your production back up quickly. From what I understand, the guards were ruthless and damaged many of Carraway’s machines.”

“It's true,” Garrett sighed, “the factory is probably not going to be operable for another three weeks at least. Maybe five.”

“Then come use my plant,” Markus said with an expansive wave. “Like I said, we merchants must stick together. It won’t be free, of course, but I’ll rent it to you at cost. You can even bring your own workers if you want. If it’s too far, I’ll lend you mine. Whatever you want to do.”

Considering it quietly, Garrett finally nodded.

“It’s a very generous offer, Mr. Parrow.”

“Call me Markus, Mr. Parrow sounds so stiff.”

“Thank you, Markus. Let me talk to Carraway and get back to you. It sounds like a good option. Do you have an idea of what you would charge for the use of the plant?”

For almost an hour, Markus and Garrett chatted about the plant and its location, workforce, and capacity. Eventually, however, the conversation veered into amusing tales of the nobility and Garrett laughed quite a bit. Markus was a charming conversationalist, and had a quick, dry wit. When he finally stood up forty-five minutes into his visit, Garrett seemed reluctant to let him go, and accompanied him all the way to the door, promising to come to visit the plant the following day with Carraway. After he was out of sight, Garrett turned around and saw everyone in the inn staring at him. Amused, he held up his thumb and they all erupted into cheers.

“You think he bought it?” Ryn asked, standing up from one of the tables.

“I think it’s a start,” Garrett replied. “The trick will be keeping it up. But he’s given us a golden opportunity without realizing it.”

“What do you mean?”

“He wants to lend us his factory at cost, so that we can get our soap production back up and running.”

“You mean so he can steal our process,” Ryn snorted. “I hope you didn’t agree.”

“Oh, I did. I’ll go visit it tomorrow.”

“But that’s the same as handing him our method for making soap,” Ryn said, her forehead furrowing in anger. “Why would you… oh… wait.”

“Precisely,” Garrett said, with a smile. “Come, let's have a conversation.”

When Ryn finally left the office, night was falling. After a quiet dinner in his office, Garrett went to his room and climbed into bed. His days and nights had been exhausting recently, but he felt like things were on the right track. Many of his actions seemed to have little to no short term impact, but he didn’t mind that. He was building his place in this world slowly but surely, one petal at a time. He had the power to create explosive growth, but he knew what over-fertilizing a plant would do. To develop strong roots, a plant needed time, and the same was true for this strange family of his.

And a family it was. Sure, it was bound together by eerie parasitic dream flowers with a penchant for overriding the will of their host, but what family didn’t have its quirks? Chuckling to himself, Garrett closed his eyes and entered the dream, appearing on the Dreamer’s Throne. For a few minutes he just sat there, his eyes closed, enjoying the warmth that the throne provided. He had stopped wondering why he had ended up with this mysterious artifact, and just accepted that it was as much a part of his life as the strange, fog covered dream that lay outside of his door.

Even though he wasn’t focusing on it, he could feel the connections he had with the flowers that were spread out around the inn, filling the territory claimed by the Klein Family. There were even flowers beyond that, looking like an ever growing constellation in his mind. Down below the earth the team under Viper worked hard to move goods through the passages, bringing in food and other supplies from Port Reverie to be sold in the city. To the north, he could see the beacon that was the meat processing plant, busy as ever, even in the middle of the night, as they worked to keep everyone fed. All around him, there were members of the Family going about their lives, doing their best in this dangerous and difficult world, unaware of his hidden hand supporting them.