Poisonous Fox

Gilded doors stood between Kate and her mission of securing travel arrangements with a caravan company. Wood, expensive wood by the looks of it, full of golden filigree except for a smudged panel meant for actually physically pushing the door.

“Mahogany…” Gregory said in a hushed voice, but Kate cared not. She firmly pushed the door inwards and stomped over the threshold, finding herself in a finely appointed room with carpets and an aquarium.

She had meant to storm the gates and find the receptionist and force them to comply with her wishes, however, the realities of a well established business thwarted her intent before she ever began.

The receptionist sat at an elevated desk so that she looked down upon whoever she was helping, and she was currently occupied. A frail old man was currently bothering the receptionist, and forcing Kate to do something so banal as waiting impatiently in line.

“Ugh,” Kate said, no growled, as she tapped her foot and began to wait in line.

“It’s not that bad,” Gregory said, with a much haler face now that he had consumed her healing tonic. He went over to inspect the aquarium, that was lit and climate controlled through artifice. As with so much of this place. Kate’s calloused hands and overly large and muscular frame left her feeling somewhat of a brute, but she would not trade her hard won and hard built body to fit in to such accommodations. Even if her feet sank into lush burgundy carpets.

There were even potted plants beneath artificed lights! Not even Garrison Tower’s high chambers contained such luxury.

“These are colorful!” Gregory admired the fish swimming in the aquarium. “Think they’re from the Liching Sea?” he asked.

Kate scoffed. As if anyone would import anything from the Liching Sea. The only way there was by air, and even then, it was just a bad idea. All around. Even Kate would hesitate to confirm the rumors. “Look at a map,” Kate said under her breath to express her doubt.

Gregory must have heard. “But look at them! Choral… and the bright colors–” he pushed the back of his hand against the glass “-and it’s warm!” he exclaimed. “It must be! I can’t think of another warm body of water…”

As he nattered on, one of the larger fish, one that was both narrow and wide, that was striped yellow and blue, drifted towards where Gregory’s hand rested against the glass.

“...but if that’s the case… I heard they were largely carnivorous. I wonder–” he tapped an index finger against the glass.

But rather than swim away, the fish darted forward and opened a sharply toothed maw which it slammed against the glass and made a dull ‘ting.’

Gregory jerked back. The glass held firm, but the fish almost seemed to scratch the material. And looking a little closer its face against the glass, the inside of the material had several faint scratch marks.

“Young man!” the receptionist looked up from where they were helping the old man. “Please stop harassing the fish. If you’ll look just above your head.” She gestured at a sign at the top of the tank prohibiting touching the glass.

“Oh.” Gregory let a weak chuckle. “Sorry.” He stepped further away from the fish, and whispered to Kate, “totally from the Liching Sea.”

Kate had to agree that it seemed possible, but rather than admit that Gregory was right where she was wrong, she paid attention to the petitioner ahead of her in line.

The receptionist, named Lonnie Tress according to the placard on her desk, was pointing out several contractual options available for the man.

“I don’t really know which I need,” the man said. “I just need to send my godson back to his mother in Kwin!”

“That’s more detail that I need to know, really,” Lonnie said. “You need to pick an option though.”

“Can you explain them again?” he said.

With Kate’s sixth sense, she perceived Lonnie clenching her knuckles out of sight behind her raised desk. “Certainly,” Lonnie bit out. “This option–” she pointed at a sheet of paper to the left “-includes amenities at the middle of the caravan. “-this one, does not.”

“That’s a steep difference in price,” the old man said.

“Because one comes with more risk and less logistics,” Lonnie said.

“How risky is it?”

“To Kwin?” Lonnie asked. “Past performance is of course not indicative of future trips, but it would be surprising if there wasn’t at least one untoward event.”

“Like bandits or something?”

“Yes. So to help you decide, how important is it for your godson to arrive. How much do you love him.”

“Love might be a too-strong term. But his parents would kill me if something happened to their little apple. Better get the pricier option.”

“Good choice,” Lonnie said wryly.

Kate let out a relieved breath when the man finally finished signing and handing over a down payment. Once he was gone, Kate lunged to the front, ready to strike down the last obstacle between her and a place on a caravan heading north.

But when Kate reached the front, things failed to happen. Not immediately, and not after several seconds.

And when things did finally happen, they had no bearing on Kate and nor were they in anyway useful. Lonnie was taking time to file the contract that the old man had signed. And the shuffling of papers was taking forever. It took so long, that another man came to stand in line behind her. This was getting ridiculous.

Kate could take it no longer. She rapped her knuckle on the wooden desk. And if that did nothing, then she would take drastic actions.

After she knocked on the desk, the receptionist responded. And it was none too soon.

Lonnie sighed, disappointment and irritation both laced through her voice, but Kate had had worse, mostly from her own mother. Lonnie’s tone did nothing to dissuade Kate.

“Are you sure you’re in the right place, child?” Lonnie asked, glancing up over her spectacles to look over Kate.

Kate scoffed, “I’m not that young.”

“Mmm,” Lonnie answered, lips pressing together.

As the inspection continued, Gregory stepped in.

“We’re here to negotiate passage north to Bath,” he said plainly.

We? Kate thought. She knew she needed to go north, but Gregory too? He must have been mistaken.

“Then you’ll need your guardian to come in person,” Lonnie said. She began to call to the next person in line, but Kate was not having it.

“No, hey!” Kate said, slapping the palm of her hand against the desk. “My mother sent me here, and I have some authority,” she pulled out her sigil from around her neck and she showed it to the receptionist. Kate thought that surely the receptionist could not be so much of a pillock to not know what the sigil meant.

Instead, Lonnie scoffed. “That means far less than you think,” she said. “Next!”

Kate struggled to believe it. After all this effort, and she was getting turned away? Her grip tightened on her sword hilt and she bore half an inch of steel. Gregory glanced down and winced, but then stepped to the side, blocking off the next customer, and stealing Lonnie’s attention.

“We both know that isn’t true,” Gregory said in a smooth, beseeching tone.

Kate felt a moment of weakness and disgust that it was Gregory saving the day, and with such weakness on open display as well, but if it got her out of Southbridge and got her the next glyph, then she could defer to Gregory’s expertise. At least for now. On this single thing.

“Crown save me from pretentious teenagers,” Lonnie groaned in misery as she stretched upwards and lamented towards the roof.

“You should know that we are here at the behest of our guardians,” Gregory said. “Authorized as their agents. And the sooner you help us, the sooner we can go back to them and that you can get back to your other work.”

“This is irregular,” Lonnie finally said. “Petitioners and stand-ins are usually in their majority.”

“But is that a requirement?” Gregory asked, as though he already knew the answer.

“Yes, actually,” Lonnie said waspishly. “It is!”

“Really?” Gregory asked, somewhat taken aback.

“Just help them so they get out of our hair,” the man standing behind them said. “Unless you think you can have them forcefully removed.”

Lonnie glanced over Gregory’s shoulder. “Them? The girl has the knight’s sigil. Unless it’s stolen, I doubt they would take her.”

“It’s not stolen!” Kate said. “The captain’s my mom.”

“Oh. So just ordinary nepotism,” Lonnie said derisively. “Thank the crown for that.”

“Technically not nepotism?” Gregory said, though sounding unsure. Kate might not have been sure either, but she was fairly certain it was not, as she was not given an actual position with the knights, at least not yet. She could have joined if she had wanted to, though.

“Whatever,” Lonnie said. “Fine. What can I do for you two minors, who are not legally authorized to make binding contracts? What notary service can I provide?” Now that was just over the top, Kate thought. But so long as she was helping, Kate did not care.

“Thank you,” Kate said with a small amount of relief to finally be getting somewhere.

The man behind them in line, who must have been listening to the entire exchange, chortled. He was laughing at them! Kate craned her neck to glare backwards at the man. This was all Lonnie’s fault. She wondered if she could convince her aunt to shake the place down, maybe do an impromptu inspection on the office. Probably not. Janet Muleater might seem like she appreciated a good joke, but Kate’s aunt had a notorious degree of seriousness when it came to the job.

“We wish to book travel north to Bath,” Gregory said, using that ‘we’ term again.

“Standard contract?” Lonnie asked.

“No… not exactly,” Gregory said, grimacing and finishing weakly. When Lonnie inquired for more, he waved Kate to explain. It was apparently out of the boy’s toolkit. Hardly a matter, Kate could do blunt.

“We want to sign on to guard a caravan north,” Kate explained. “As guards. Not as passengers.”

“Wasting all our time!” Lonnie groaned. “If you want to sign on as mercs, then do it through the Mercenary’s Guild! There are proper channels for a reason.”

“Pfft,” Kate scoffed. “What merc can come close to comparing to me?”

“Seasoned adults,” Lonnie pretended to weigh out in one hand. “Kid,” she weighed out in the other. “Hm, I wonder,” she finished sarcastically.

Kate narrowed her eyes, but before Kate could snap something less than complimentary, Gregory hastily interjected.

“And the knights Lieutenant Muleater promised,” Gregory said. As if those knights were the selling point, and not Kate! Not a single swordmaster in Southbridge could defeat Kate in a fair spar! And he mentioned the knights like they were what would keep them safe. And Lonnie seemed to be more interested in them as well.

Kate gritted her teeth. She would have to make them understand somehow. Her grip became so tight on her sword it became detrimental. She chided herself to loosen her shoulders and grip. If she had to draw, it would be fast and decisive and straight into a horned stance so that she could reach over the desk and free that irritating woman from her head. Just imagining the arterial spray helped clam Kate down, just a tad.

Meanwhile, the conversation continued.

“Do you even understand what you’re asking?” Lonnie asked angrily. Another insult to the tally. Kate should begin keeping a list. But that sounded like paperwork. Boring.

“Yes?” Gregory asked.

“What of it,” Kate demanded, with perhaps some menace leaking through.

Gregory winced, and Lonnie almost flinched before narrowing her eyes.

“Then let me explain,” Lonnie said. “We don’t just have a standard contract for this, which means drafting up a new form! Which, of course, is outrageous. If you want to go north, just sign on as passengers and be done with it.”

Kate growled and punched down on the desk, leaving a dent in the wood paneling. “We’re better than any merc,” she said. “You should pay us to make it worth our while.”

“Or what?” Lonnie asked, arching an eyebrow.

Gregory groaned, “I’m sure we can come to a compromise on the pay. We only need to cover the knights’ salaries, and we don’t need so many of them as we would the mercenaries.”

“Which means what to me?” Lonnie asked.

Kate had been wondering that as well. It sounded like Gregory knew more about the detachment of knights than she did, and they were only coming because of her. But, if this was what it took.

“That using us and our detachment will be cheaper for you. Probably by about half, if my estimates pan out.”

Lonnie gazed thoughtfully, and seemed to nod to herself as she ran the numbers. And finally, when she opened her mouth, Kate thought for sure Lonnie would agree. If it was cheaper, and the quality was better, then why say no, right?

“No,” Lonnie finally said, bursting Kate’s swelling hope.

“What?” Kate blurted.

“What do you mean?” Gregory asked.

“Then let me explain,” Lonnie said. “Mercenaries are a known entity, under a known contract, with inherited clauses that everyone agrees to, including caravan masters. Introducing a new element, at the whim of teenagers? No. If you want to go north, do it on your own, or sign on as a passenger. Now get out. I don’t care if–”

“Ahem,” the man behind them cleared his throat. “If I may interject before moods grow too much more heated?”

Kate turned to look at the man suspiciously. His eyes briefly passed over Kate’s sword, which may or may not have been partly unsheathed.

“What now?” Lonnie huffed.

“I believe,” the man said, “that there may be an opportunity here.”

“No, as I just explained, there really isn’t?” Lonnie said. Then thought better of it, “And pardon my bluntness, but who are you, exactly?”

“Manny Stillson,” the man answered with a bow. “Junior caravan master from the southern routes.”

“Oh… ohhh,” Lonnie said. “One of the refugees then?”

“We prefer the term ‘geographically displaced,’” the man, Manny Stillson said lightly. “But yes, I am. And I really do believe that there is an opportunity here.”

Lonnie deflated from exhaustion. “Fine,” she said. “Let’s hear it then. Though I’m tempted to tell the lot of you to do it elsewhere.”

“I will be quick,” Manny said. “Out in a jiff, or so they say.”

“Nobody says that,” Kate said. Manny had the good grace to ignore the outburst and continue regardless.

“It is a fact,” Manny began, “that I am beginning a new caravan train northwards, and with a fresh start, I am open to accepting a few irregularities, just as we’re starting out and gaining capital, so to speak.”

“Huh?” Kate asked. Gregory pursed his lips to ask, but Lonnie beat them to the punch as she rolled her eyes.

“Basically,” Lonnie explained, “he wants to jump from junior to full-fledged caravan master, and he’s cutting corners to make it happen.”

“In not so few words,” Manny smiled, though it never touched his eyes. “But as I said, this is an opportunity for all involved.”

“A bad one,” Lonnie scoffed. “If this is how you lot run business in Kaiva, then it’s no wonder you’re all running ragged.”

“Pardon?” Manny said, sounding shocked. “What, may I be so bold to ask, makes you say that?”

“Why on the Crown would you choose to use kids to protect your caravan as opposed to tested, seasoned, mercenaries? Mercs aren’t that expensive, and from working in the south, I think you should know the problem of skimping on security.”

“Half the cost by my calculations,” Gregory pointed out. “Not nothing.”

“No, certainly not nothing,” Manny said, nodding his head. “And besides, one of my clients has had a minor squabble with the mercenary guild; he is offering additional compensation to make up for this.”

“Oh. Oh him?” Lonnie asked. “Yeah… yeah this makes sense. Alright. You want the guild to act as the notary then?”

“Yes, if you wouldn’t mind,” Manny said. “Just a standard contract, please.”

“Any standouts?” Lonnie asked as she pulled three sheets of printed paper from a cabinet behind her.

“Insurance of goods?” Manny asked.

“Against whose collateral?” Lonnie asked, a pen in hand and ready to mark several changes into the documents.

Manny turned towards Kate, when she stared blankly, to Gregory.

“Uh…” Gregory led off. “No, no I don’t think so. We’re not putting up anything of that sort.”

Kate nodded. That made sense. She was unsure exactly what collateral was, but it seemed like a bad thing.

“Hm,” Lonnie tapped the next section of the contract. “Then salvage rights?”

“Ours,” Gregory said. “Of course ours. We’ll be the ones collecting it, so it’s ours to keep.”

“No, not of course!” Manny frowned. “You simply cannot have it both ways. Either you are employees or partners. If you’re employees, then you are paid as such, and what is found is the caravan’s as you were paid to find it. But if you’re partners, then you need skin in the game, namely collateral against a successful trip.”

“But–” Manny started to protest, but Kate interrupted.

“-fine, whatever. Just give us the standard.”

“As employees?” Manny asked.

“No, as guards,” Kate said, irritable and eager to be done with the boring nonsense.

“Very well,” Manny said. “But of course, as non-standard guards, and as you are not professional mercenaries, as you’re lacking years of expertise, the pay you shall receive shall be commensurate…”

“So many words,” Kate groaned. “Just pay us what knights earn regularly, no lower–”

“-Kate!” Gregory hissed, worried for some reason. “Let me handle the negotiations!”

“No. Just, match the pay, and we’ll travel with you and keep you safe. Deal?”

“Kate…” Gregory started to protest, but kept his peace and just shook his head.

“Gregory, I’ve just about had it with this. If I didn’t think mom would send a regiment to track me down, I’d start walking north today. I really don’t need this godslicking dung.”

Lonnie scoffed, “would be dead or enslaved in days.”

“Hah!” Kate barked a mean laugh at Lonnie’s joke. “Say that to my face!”

“Kate!” Gregory shouted. “Please, stop.”

“Then make it happen, Gregory,” Kate said hotly.

“Fine!” Gregory snapped. “The contracts. Knightly pay, no insurance, no salvage. Deal?” Gregory asked.

“Deal,” Manny said smoothly. “Though we will need to leave the actual compensation to be filled in later, once we have a firm number on a knight’s salary…”

“Knights are paid about hundred C a week,” Kate answered plainly, proud of herself for remembering that much.

Gregory groaned. Lonnie muttered, “so low?”

“Deal!” Manny said gleefully.

Lonnie finished filling in the three contracts and slid them over across the desk.

“Caravan Master Manny Stillson signs here,” Lonnie said, pointing at one line. “I’ll type and date, don’t worry about that. And, the Guardson sigil here, please.” Lonnie pointed at a spot for Kate to stamp her sigil, and provided a pad of ink. Once they finished, Lonnie switched the documents around so that all three had both Manny’s signature and Kate’s sigil stamped upon it. Once they were done, Lonnie collected one form for herself and slid the other two over, one for Manny, and the last for Kate. “And that’s that!” Lonnie almost cheered. “Now kids, make sure you show your guardians the contract. Because if they protest, then… well… actually, the risk is all Manny’s from here on out.” Lonnie chuckled–it was not a nice sound.

“Have faith,” Manny said with a tighter, slightly pained, smile.