Dagger & Deception

by Jeremy Dwyer

  “The inferno isn’t going to end for a long time. Why worry?” asked a third young man.

  “It’s going to end in a couple of years. But she’s just one woman. Somebody’s going to take her down,” said a fourth young man.

  “So, you don’t think a woman can take over the whole world?” asked a young woman, as if to challenge them and their respect for women.

  “There are fifteen billion (15000000000) to twenty billion (20000000000) people in the world. At least one of them is tougher than her. The odds are against her. If it were an army of women, I’d be worried. But one woman?” the fourth young man said.

  “It only takes one woman to launch a whole fleet of ships. A queen can do anything that a king can do,” the young woman said.

  “Women are going to fight against her. Lots of women. This isn’t about men versus women. This is about one versus nearly twenty billion (20000000000),” the fourth young man said.

  The young woman considered this and seemed to be satisfied that the young man wasn’t comparing males to females.

  “It’s that tiara they were talking about. That’s where the power is…when the inferno is over, it will make her powerful,” said the second young man.

  “What’s the big deal?” asked the first young man.

  “She’ll kill all the men, and then drink our blood,” said the second young man.

  “Drink our blood? That sounds like an insane person. How is someone like that going to take over the world and kill everybody?” asked the third young man.

  “Insane doesn’t mean she isn’t clever…or dangerous,” said the second young man.

  “She’s completely evil, part of some ancient empire. They were stopped before, and they’ll be defeated again,” said the fourth young man.

  “They didn’t have the tiara back then. This isn’t going to be an easy fight,” said the second young man.

  “What’s the big deal about this tiara?” asked the first young man.

  “It can control the oceans. All of them. Whatever one you drink from, she’ll own it,” said the second young man.

  “See. A woman can rule the world,” said the young woman.

  “A small cat could rule the world if it wore a tiara that could do all that,” said the fourth young man.

  The young woman seemed annoyed again.

  Another young woman was with them, but she remained silent throughout, seemingly sad.

  Alistair was hoping for a conversation of more youthful concerns, not this talk of villains and wars. He decided to move in and lighten up the mood. He directed his horse to stop, and stepped off the wagon onto the side of the paved road.

  “I do say, you could use a bit of good cheer around here. This should be a season of good will, and sharing. Let me share some of this rum with you,” Alistair said. He then reached into the wagon and pulled out bottles of rum and extended them to the youth.

  The six (6) youth all looked at one another. The talkative young woman said, indignantly: “Why, rum is a pirate’s drink. What do you think that I am?”

  “Let’s add something sweet for the delightful young lady,” Alistair said. He reached into his wagon and pulled out a small apple, started cutting it with a knife and put slices of the apple into the rum bottle, shaking it up vigorously. “The Apple of the Sea, for you, from me,” Alistair said to her, to make it sound fun and pleasant and dignified. He took out a crystal goblet and poured the drink into it, and reached out to hand it to her.

  “Well, when a gentleman puts it that way, now I might be interested,” the young woman said, and accepted the goblet and began to drink from it. The young men all accepted a drink, as well. The quiet young woman, however, said nothing, but smiled and laughed, thinking the entire presentation to be very humorous.

  Alistair appeared only late middle-aged – perhaps fifty (50) years old – and quite pleasant, even wealthy. He was dressed as a fine merchant, in dazzling robes that made him seem youthful, classy, somewhat gaudy and quite entertaining.

  “Why, who might you be?” Alistair asked the woman who started laughing, thinking her to be interesting enough and attractive enough to pursue further.

  “Rosanna,” the mostly quiet young woman said.

  He took her hand and kissed the back of it. “I am Alistair. Purveyor of fine goods, fine drinks, fine clothes, fine festivities…everything fine,” he said.

  “Alistair. I’ve heard that name. I thought you were the gambler,” the first young woman said, having heard rumors of a man who placed bets on the famous wager between Captain Pradrock and the ghost of Captain Tychon.

  “I’ve made a friendly wager here and there, all in good fun,” Alistair said, smiling as if betting on dangerous battles was a harmless thing to do.

  “You made bets on that game between the captain and the ghost captain, didn’t you?” the first young woman asked.

  “I couldn’t tell you what I bet, if anything. I’ve seen and done and said so many things since that game, it’s hard to say. All I know is that after you drink rum, with apples, you should have the finest and freshest bread,” Alistair said, and then he reached into his wagon again and pulled out several small loaves of bread and handed them out.

  “Why are you giving away all this fine food and drink? Are you trying to sell us something?” asked the first young man.

  “Not at all. Fine food. Fine drink. Fine stories. The world should be a happier place. More celebrations. Less worrying. That’s all. Sometimes, good things happen just because,” Alistair said.

  “Not often enough. I wish more good things would happen,” Rosanna said.

  “What good thing would you like? Perhaps I could buy it for you. Just because!” Alistair said.

  Rosanna just looked around, unsure of what to say, embarrassed because she knew that her friends knew what she was thinking.

  “She wants a boyfriend,” the first young woman said.

  Rosanna blushed, not expecting someone to come right out and say it. But it was true.

  “A boyfriend. That could be a good thing. Today, we could do even better – a great thing. A husband could be a great thing. And I am a purveyor of fine things – even great things,” Alistair said.

  Rosanna turned beat red, but she smiled.

  “I do say, I do ask, with all of you as my witnesses, will you marry me, Rosanna?” Alistair asked.

  All the young friends, except Rosanna, began laughing uncontrollably for several minutes. Rosanna smiled, in shock, but started to feel embarrassed.

  “Well? What’s your answer, my beloved? Will you marry me?”

  Rosanna wondered when the joke would end. Everyone got their laughs, but the joke should be over by now, she thought. She didn’t like that it was at her expense. “I just met you,” Rosanna said.

  “And in the short time you’ve been with me, haven’t there been fine food, fine drink and laughter? And we haven’t even arrived at our wedding. Now, imagine a lifetime of all that!” Alistair said.

  Everyone was smiling now.

  “These things take time,” Rosanna said. She tried to enjoy the joke, but still didn’t believe Alistair.

  “You’ve been waiting a long time, haven’t you? Well, it sounds to me as if the time has already been taken,” Alistair said.

  Rosanna now laughed.

  “See what I mean? Celebrate! Say yes,” Alistair said.

  “How about we have a dinner together? You can meet my father,” Rosanna said.

  “Wonderful! Let’s meet him now!” Alistair said.

  “He’s quite busy at this hour. He is the head financial officer of the bank. Can we wait until tomorrow?” Rosanna asked.

  “Let’s not wait too long, my beloved,” Alistair said.

  “You don’t move slowly, do you?” Rosanna asked.

  “Cheers for the new couple!” the third young man said, holding up his glass of rum mixed with apples. All the others did the same.

  Rosanna appeared astonished at her friends’
support of this.

  “Well, I have to be going, to make preparations. My heart treasures every moment with you, my dear, and we shall soon be together again,” Alistair said. Then, he got back on his wagon and directed his steed into the center of town, and made his way to the bank.

  ~~~

  “What a crazy old man!” the first young woman said.

  “When you’ve got money – and that guy has money, just look at how he dresses – you can be crazy, and it doesn’t matter,” the third young man said.

  ~~~

  Alistair made his way to the bank, stepped down from his wagon and entered the large stone building with its fine carvings and architecture, which were designed to suggest the wise, reliable financial sense that bankers should have.

  He found the finest dressed man there, and saw that he was the head financial officer who must be Rosanna’s father. “Good evening. How may I be of assistance to you?” the man asked, seeing the fine attire that Alistair was wearing, being the dress of a presumably rich merchant. He didn’t recognize Alistair, despite the old fool’s infamy. The head financial officer spent a lifetime poring over financial books, and didn’t travel in the social circles that included Alistair.

  “I am so pleased to meet you. It will be absolute delight to have you as my father-in-law. Rosanna told me where to find you,” Alistair said.

  The head financial officer’s heart almost stopped. His daughter was only twenty-eight (28) years old, and he was only sixty-two (62) and quite healthy, but this news almost shocked him into his grave.

  “My daughter never told me she was in any kind of relationship,” the head financial officer said.

  “Well, Rosanna is a quiet one. She probably didn’t want to be a bother, good girl. Loves her father, she sure does,” Alistair said, trying to be extra jovial and reassuring.

  At this point, a man had arrived carrying documents – they were in a fine brass cylinder customary for holding important financial records during transport – and he was looking for service. “You, sir, must be the banker in charge of financial matters. Might I have a word with you?” the cylinder-carrying man said. It was Madeline’s servant, attempting to transfer the assets of the elderly couple – Theodore and Gretchen – from their account into an account that Madeline was using.

  “Of course,” the head financial officer said, distracted by the sudden news that his daughter was to be wed.

  “In private, sir?” the cylinder-carrying man asked.

  “Absolutely,” the head financial officer said, and they went into a private room.

  ~~~

  “I wish to execute the financial transaction indicated in the documents herein,” the cylinder-carrying man said, and he produced some documents from the fine brass cylinder that he carried, which was designed to protect the documents. He handed the documents to the head financial officer, but kept the brass cylinder.

  The head financial officer began to review them, and found them to be dubious, as the transaction was for thirty-one billion (31000000000) platinum coins, and represented a vast fortune. He thought it might be financial fraud, given that it was a total financial transfer from a wealthy couple to someone not sharing a family name and who was not a charitable cause. He did not want to let the cylinder-carrying man know his suspicions, so he gave an excuse for the delay, saying: “A financial transaction of this magnitude is very impressive, and our fine bank must do everything to ensure it is carried out correctly, with utmost care, precisely and accurately down to each single coin. We will have to review this, and give it our fullest attention.”

  “I will wait,” the cylinder-carrying man said.

  “This won’t occur today. At the earliest, it will be tomorrow before we review it. We have to make sure that it is recorded in all of our books, exactly and correctly,” the head financial officer said.

  “I will return in the morning,” the cylinder-carrying man said, and he began to leave.

  The head financial officer then left, in quite a hurry, wishing to speak to his daughter. He was distracted at this point.

  ~~~

  Alistair approached the cylinder-carrying man, and said: “My future father-in-law is quite busy these days, planning for the wedding. Perhaps I could help you in his absence.”

  The cylinder-carrying man seemed confused, then pleased, saying: “That would be most appreciated, sir, if you could handle this matter most expeditiously.”

  Alistair saw that the door to the private room had not been locked, and they both went in and found the documents that the cylinder-carrying man had presented. Alistair looked at them, and was able to understand where the money was to come from, and where it was to go. He had seen and done many jobs in his seventeen hundred eighty-six (1786) years, and had worked in more than one bank. Alistair was able to find the account registers and execute the financial transfer himself, shaving off a fraction of a percent – fifty million (50000000) platinum coins – for himself, and he created a new account in his own name in the process. He handed the cylinder-carrying man the documents indicating a financial transfer, omitting any mention of his own cut, and said: “This should be to your liking.”

  Then, the cylinder-carrying man said “My thanks to you, sir,” and departed the bank.

  ~~~

  Alistair then wrote for himself a set of documents for immediate and direct payment of the fifty million (50000000) platinum coins – he took ten (10) of them, each for five million (5000000) coins – and then left the bank and made his way to a nearby office of land deeds, which was a short walk away from the bank, so he didn’t even need to use his horse-drawn wagon.

  ~~~

  Alistair entered the building – which was made of finely-carved stone, but much less impressive than the bank – and saw a man inside: the deed administrator.

  “How good it is to have a new customer,” the deed administrator said.

  “So happy to see you, as well, almost like after having a good meal, and a good meal takes fine food. As they say, food grows on farms, and I’d like to purchase one. Do you have any farmland for sale?” Alistair asked.

  “Of course we have farmland. You’ve come to the exactly correct place, sir,” the deed administrator said.

  “Wonderful! I knew that I could be a farmer someday, or have a farm, or live on one, something like that,” Alistair said.

  The deed administrator opened a large map, of the southwestern portions of the continent of Baradaxa, and showed it to Alistair. He then started pointing to different sections and said: “This is all farmland. This is a farm town that was repossessed for unpaid tax obligations, all of its one hundred thousand (100000) acres. It’s very high quality farmland with numerous buildings in good condition. I could let you have this at four hundred (400) platinum coins per acre, so forty million (40000000) platinum coins.”

  “A town! That’s delightful. I’ll take it,” Alistair said, and handed to the deed administrator eight (8) of the direct payment documents, each worth five million (5000000) platinum coins. These were guaranteed by the bank, and so did not require the man to delay the transaction so as to verify them.

  “I wish you wonderful day. I’m always pleased to see a wealthy man spend his money wisely, on such fine land,” the deed administrator said. He received commissions on transactions, and since the documents were bank guaranteed, he didn’t ask any unnecessary questions. He would receive quite a sum, at one tenth (1/10) of one (1) percent, amounting to forty thousand (40000) platinum coins, which would contribute greatly to a lavish retirement. The deed administrator was fifty-two (52) years old and still had, perhaps, ten (10) or even twenty (20) years of work ahead of him. Perhaps this latest transaction could shorten that time period, he thought.

  “Might I have your name, good sir of such fine judgment?” the deed administrator asked. The documents did not state Alistair’s name, but only an account number in the bank.

  “Alistair,” he answered.

  The deed administrator then
wrote up a deed to that land, and updated the official records, and handed the deed document to Alistair. “Congratulations, Alistair. Here is your deed, good man,” the deed administrator said.

  “I have a farming town, now. Call me mayor,” Alistair said, and then he left the building, walked back to his horse-drawn wagon, and made his way several miles to the southwest toward his new farming town.

  ~~~

  Along his journey toward his new town, Alistair briefly looked at the deed, then took some blank scrolls from his wagon, and started writing on them, indicating the location of the town, with the invitation: “Come celebrate! Free food! Free drink! Free land! The Endless Festival Is Here!” He took these scrolls and hung them on the posts of road signs leading into several nearby towns.

  After a few weeks of waiting, people started showing up, in large numbers. Over two thousand three hundred (2300) people appeared in Alistair’s town, including families with children. These were poor nomadic peoples, with ragged clothing, tired and dirty appearances and high hopes.

  Alistair was hoping for young, strong healthy lads and lasses, thinking they would come to drink and eat and act like wild fools like he did. He had taken some of his newfound wealth and spent it on large quantities of rum and wine and cheese and bread. He had spent some money on fine furniture and décor. These people, however, would have been happy with the bare essentials.

  Alistair was the owner – and mayor – of a farm town. And he was at a loss for what to do or say, because two thousand three hundred (2300) poor people with their families had just arrived, none of whom looked like farmers, or the sort of young carefree party-goers he was hoping to meet for laughs and libations.

  Alistair just started handing out the food he had, wondering what to do next, and how he could turn all of this into one big celebration. His twisted, jester-like mind began imagining all sorts of mischief.

  CHAPTER 11: Recovery and Interrogation

  For the previous year, Romana had been working in the Port of Kemalorin in the southwestern edge of the continent of Baradaxa. She concerned herself with teaching many of the townspeople to farm, and to do so more effectively. Several of them were able and willing to drink of the waters of the Gradaken Ocean, which endowed them with an exceptional connection to the plants and trees, as well as to the animals. The seeds they planted grew into a more abundant harvest, of a higher quality and much more quickly. Romana was now thirty-two (32) years old, and had applied herself to other pursuits in her life, including mathematics and statistics. Of primary concern, however, was her relationship to God. She believed firmly that her powers – through the Gradaken waters – were a gift from God intended specifically to help people in need. A year prior, this town was the site of the original crystal archways designed to give shielding from the intense heat and light of the many aligned suns. Those archways were made of crystals that were unstable, and some collapsed as a result. However, many were destroyed by hate and evil, and the shattered crystal fell into the eyes of thousands (1000) of people, blinding many of them. They needed support at an extraordinary level, and Romana provided this by teaching them to count and measure without sight, using only careful thought and focus. She told them how to plant each seed with loving care, after drinking the Gradaken waters – so long as they weren’t already waterbound to some other great water – and to space the seeds out carefully.