Dreamer's Throne

“There were a few adjustments I took the liberty of making,” Garrett continued, as if unable to see the burning stare Henrick had focused on him. “Primarily with regard to withdrawals. You’ll find them on this last sheet, but not in the book. For clarity’s sake I’ve folded them into some of the other transactions. I’m pleased to report that everything is tidy and balanced and you should be up to date, so long as there hasn’t been any major movement in the coffers over the last few days.”

Staring at Garrett for a moment, Henrick suddenly burst out laughing, taking the paper Garrett was holding out and glancing over it.

“So you’re trying to tell me that there’s no longer a record of me stealing money out of the gang’s coffers?”

“Were you stealing?” Garrett asked, his eyebrows rising. “I just assumed you were making withdrawals of your just due.”

“Then why hide them?” the innkeeper asked, putting the papers down on the desk and crossing his muscular arms.

“To inspire unity and confidence,” Garrett said without a pause. “Besides, it’s hard to enforce policies that aren’t even across the board. The books have been arranged so that you’ll be able to allow anyone who’s skeptical to double-check them. However, the real reason I asked you to send everyone out is different.”

“Oh?”

Nodding, Garrett took a small folded sheet from his pocket and unfolded it, revealing densely packed numbers.

“I ran some calculations and I think your gang is sitting on a tremendous opportunity, in part based on your location. Are you familiar with what’s happening in the palace right now?”

The dangerous look crept back into Henrick’s eyes, but he maintained the wide smile he had on his face as he nodded his head.

“Yes. The king and queen suffered an attack, right? That’s why the guards have been crawling all over the city and the royal duke has taken over, right?”

“That’s one version. The truth is somewhat different,” Garrett said, shaking his head. “The king, queen, and their children are dead. Killed by masked men in the dead of night. The entire royal family, apart from Duke Arkov, are dead. That’s created some turmoil, especially since the gates have been locked down.”

“That’s an awfully dangerous claim,” Henrick said, his eyes narrowing.

“A true claim, nonetheless, and even more than that, an opportunity to make a lot of money.”

“And? How would that allow us to make money?”

Holding up his hand to indicate the innkeeper should wait, Garrett continued to speak.

“With the gate shut and an increase in guard presence, it’s undoubtedly becoming harder and harder for merchants to move goods, especially by the western gate, since it’s so close to the palace. This drives inventory up and decreases profits. The merchants need to sell the product to free up space in their warehouses but have no customers since they can’t send caravans. You, on the other hand, hold the key to a significant number of potential customers. Given your connections, it should be a simple matter for you to sell those goods, in a chopped-down, repackaged form, of course.”

Even before Garrett was finished talking, Henrick was completely confused. Scratching his head, he took a pull from his bottle and gestured for Garrett to keep speaking. Smiling slightly, Garrett continued with his explanation.

“Take, for example, the soap that’s being sent out of the city. Soap is one of our major exports, but right now there are giant vats of soap just sitting, waiting to be carried out of the city by caravan. It won’t be moved for some time due to the turmoil in the city, but we could repackage it and sell it locally.”

“Soap? Are you serious?” Henrick said, his lips curling into a sneer. “What commoner could afford a bar of soap? Most of those things sell for at least a silver piece each.”

“That’s because they’re too big,” Garrett said calmly. “A typical bar of soap is, what, four inches by six inches? We just need to cut it down into quarter inch slices that are two-inch by two-inch and charge a copper for them. Sure, profits will be lower than if we were to sell the whole bar for a full silver coin, but the point is that we should be able to buy the soap incredibly cheaply. Each regular sized bar will produce forty-eight smaller bars, meaning that if we can buy the bars for even twenty-four copper each, we’ll double our money.”

Mulling over Garrett’s words, Henrick finally nodded and walked back around his desk to sit down. It was apparent he was taking the conversation seriously, though from the way he was chewing on the idea he clearly had some reservations. Putting the bottle down on his desk, he picked up a quill and was about to write something out when he stopped and looked at Garrett, his forehead furrowed.

“Hold on. Even if you’re right about this, which of the soap merchants will give us the time of day? We wouldn’t even be able to get into their offices without getting the guards called on us.”

“Indeed. Which is why we won’t approach the merchants at all. Instead, we’ll talk directly to the manufacturers. They’re the ones getting stiffed right now, and if we can solve their biggest problem, we can cut out a middleman. There are six soap-making factories in the city, and they mainly operate in the north of the city, before sending the soap to be processed and packed. We can take the soap they’re sitting on, do our own processing and packing, and then sell it locally, through businesses or door to door.”

“And you think approaching the soap makers will be any easier?” Henrick said, his forehead creasing as he considered Garret’s words.

“Immensely. In fact, I already have contacts with three of them,” Garret said, a small smile on his lips. “This business idea has been in the works for some time, at Prince Everan’s request, and though the recent turmoil has disrupted it, I’m sure they would be happy for the chance to get rid of their overstock.”

“I thought you said the prince was dead.”

“He is, but for whatever reason, it seems Royal Duke Arkov hasn’t announced it, so there should be no trouble in continuing it as is. Originally, the prince had envisioned this as a charity work for the common people, so we would only be fulfilling his desires if we carried through with it.”

Falling silent, Garrett waited calmly as Henrick ran through the calculations on a piece of paper, trying to figure out what sort of volume they would have to do to make it worth it. The innkeeper’s math wasn’t great, and it required a lot of effort, but eventually he worked through the numbers and put his quill down. Garrett could see the greed hidden in Henrick’s eyes, so he decided it was time for the final push.

“The biggest challenge we have, of course, is getting the people in this area to make the initial purchase, but that shouldn’t prove to be a problem so long as we adopt a simple credit system. They can buy the first piece on credit, with a payback time of one week. However, when they come back, we can tell them they can either pay us back or buy another piece, extending their credit for one more week.”

“But what if they just keep doing that? Won’t that mean they’ll get a piece for free?”

“Sure, if they keep buying they’ll effectively have gotten a piece for free, but we’ll also have a loyal and consistent customer. A win for both sides.”

“All of this is great, except that no one in their right mind would pay a copper for a bit of soap like that.”

“Have you ever used crown soap?” Garrett asked, causing Henrick to shake his head doubtfully.

Crown soap, named for the crown stamp it carried, was the soap used by both the palace and the nobility that ran the city. Most commoners had never even seen it, let alone used it, but Garrett had spent his life in the palace, and to him it was as common as stones.

“You’ll understand once you see it,” he said, shrugging. “The quality is significantly better than the soft soap most people buy, and if we can solve the scarcity problem, it will quickly become the only sort of soap people want to use.”

“I see. And what do you want in return?” Henrick asked, giving Garrett a suspicious look. “You surely aren’t giving me this idea out of the kindness of your heart.”

“You’re correct. I want to join your gang, as an official advisor. What I lack in physical ability, I more than compensate for with my intellect. I can help you find ways to expand and grow your influence, generate money, and navigate connections with those in higher positions. In return, Ryn and I are allowed to live here, are provided with the treatment your officers receive, and are protected. In addition, I want a ten percent cut of whatever is made on one of the ideas I come up with.”

“You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that,” the innkeeper said, slapping his desk. “Fine. You’ve got yourself a deal. Come on, we were about to call a meeting anyway, I can introduce you to the gang.”

Walking to the door, Henrick called Gorn and Obe in, asking one of them to carry Garrett out to the great room and the other to gather up all the gang members. Within half an hour, they had all arrived and Garrett got to see the full extent of the gang. There were only two dozen members, but all of them looked like tough, capable people, demonstrating the recruitment principle Henrick followed.

There had been a few locals hanging out at the bar, but as the great room filled up with members of the Ghoul’s Tooth gang, they got the hint and abandoned their seats, hurrying out of the building. Sweeping his eyes over the gathered gang, Henrick nodded and gestured for Gorn to close the doors. Once it was just the gang, he began speaking in a loud voice.

“We called this meeting for two pieces of business. The first is one you all know already. The Swamp Shark gang is starting to cut into our territory, and I won’t allow it. If you see them in any of our normal spots, I want you to lay down the law. There is to be no mercy. They’ve already been warned at the council, so if they show up, we move.”

“Are we going to declare war?” one of the thugs asked, his voice a deep rumble.

Shooting the speaker a glance, Henrick shook his head.

“No, not unless they come in force. But I’ve had enough of having our territory chipped away. Remember, no deaths, but broken bones are fine. Am I clear?”

“Yes, boss.”

“Got it, boss.”

Listening to the chorus of agreement, Garrett let his eyes sweep over the crowd, trying to memorize as many faces as he could. If he was going to be the gang’s advisor, he would need to know its members, and understanding who was who was essential. Next to him, Henrick was pleased with the response and continued, dropping his large hand to Garrett’s shoulder.

“The second piece of business is an introduction. Garrett here is joining the gang. He’ll be working as my direct advisor and will hold an officer’s position.”

This time, the response from the gang wasn’t nearly as positive, many of the listening gang members caught off guard by the announcement. Whispers broke out as they began to talk among themselves, all the while shooting covert glances at Garret, who just waved his hand briefly. Henrick stared around the room, causing the men and women his gaze fell on to flinch and quiet down. A derisive smile covered the innkeeper’s lips as he spoke again.

“Any complaints? No? Good. Alright, the meeting is over. Come say hi to Garrett. Obe, Gorn, come with me.”

The very image of a tyrant, Henrick left the room with his two lieutenants, leaving Garrett and Ryn behind to face the rest of the gang. Ryn came to Garrett’s side, her normally cheerful attitude quailing under the stares of the few dozen gang members. Patting her hand reassuringly, Garrett spoke in a quiet voice that only she could hear.

“Now’s the time to put all the information you learned over the last few days to work. Do you remember our plan?”

Taking a deep breath, Ryn nodded and looked around the room, her gaze alighting on the cook who was sitting at the far end of the room, drinking a cup of ale. After a nod from Garrett, she walked over, her soft steps making no noise amidst the chatter. Yet she hadn’t even managed to cross the room before she realized everyone was watching her. Nearly missing her footing, she stumbled slightly before practically running the last few steps. Under the eyes of the whole gang, she leaned in toward the cook and whispered something, her hand pointing at Garrett.

With a skeptical look, the cook alternated between looking at Ryn and looking across the room to where Garrett sat. After a moment, he stood up, his face still carrying his disbelief, and followed a relieved-looking Ryn back to Garrett’s table. By this point, there wasn’t a sound in the room apart from the scrape of the chair the cook pulled out from the table. Sitting on it with a creak, the cook put his drink down on the table and gave Garrett a hard stare.

“Ryn here tells me you can solve my supply problem.”

Garrett sensed the disbelief in the cook’s voice but didn’t let it get to him. Instead, he bobbed his head in greeting.

“Hello, you must be Vester. First, thank you for supplying us with food for the last few days. Second, Ryn is correct, though how successful we’ll be will be determined by a few different factors, including how bold our forces are.”

It was impossible to pin down exactly what it was about Garrett that made Vester suddenly sit up in anticipation of his next words, and even as he listened, the cook found himself unable to figure out the slim young man across from him. Garrett carried an air of frailty that was only reinforced by the empty sleeve tied at his right wrist where his right hand should have been. Yet, at the same time, each of his words was delivered with clarity and precision. Seeing he’d managed to capture Vester’s attention, Garrett hid his grin and spoke slightly louder, as if inviting the other gang members to listen as well.

“With the uncertainty in the palace, food has clearly become one of the most prized resources around, which means merchants are going to be hoarding. This both drives prices up, and helps them hedge against the unknown future.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Vester interrupted, taking a drink and wiping his lips with the back of his hand. “We all know that food is suddenly scarce and ingredients have nearly tripled in price. So what?”