CivCEO

by Andrew Karevik

  “Ally is a strong word,” he replied.

  I made a face, incredulous at what I was hearing. There was no way that I’d be able to convince him with my words. He had been burned in the past, enough so to prevent him from helping out those who truly needed it. A crazy idea came to my mind and I, desperate to save this woman, decided to see how far Yusuf was willing to follow these beliefs.

  I pushed past him and began to walk towards the towers.

  “What are you doing? You can’t go in there!” Yusuf shouted.

  I laughed at those words. “What’s it to you?” I asked. “I mean, how is this your problem, right?” I continued to march, watching as the top of two towers began to glow brighter and brighter at my presence.

  “You’re going to get yourself killed!” he said, stepping after me. He tried to grab my arm, but I pulled it away.

  “How is this any concern of yours?” I asked, stopping in my tracks and turning to face him. There was a look of sheer terror on his face. “I mean, if I die, you won’t have to worry about our borders ever meeting.”

  “This is different,” he said. “You’re my—”

  “Competition,” I said, taking a single step backwards. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the towers beginning to glow bright red. I could smell the burning oxygen as they heated up. “So why not just remove me from the equation right now?”

  “You’re being ridiculous,” Yusuf said. In spite of such words, I could see that he was fully ready to try and grab me.

  “Am I?” I asked. “I still don’t know why you’re bothering over me. I mean, that trade deal we made was decent, but the Tradesmen are still around. You can just place orders with them.” And with that, I took a real leap of faith and fell backwards.

  As I had hoped, Yusuf dove forward and grabbed me by the shirt, pulling me away from the radius of the towers as they let loose a blast of fiery energy at the spot I had been heading towards.

  “Are you insane?” he shouted. “Those could have killed you!”

  “It’s funny how different you are when you have to actually watch someone die, isn’t it?” I asked.

  The burning scowl across his face softened somewhat. “I know you didn’t save me because you wanted that trade deal,” I whispered. “You knew it was the right thing to do. And you know, deep down, it’s right to save this woman.”

  Yusuf grunted and threw me onto the ground, away from the towers. He began to grumble in what I presumed was Turkish.

  “You are an idiot, of that I am sure,” he said. “But…you’re right. It’s a lot easier to speak such bold things when you don’t have to watch them die in front of you.”

  “So you’ll help her?” I asked.

  “If anything, it’s so you don’t kill yourself trying to convince me otherwise,” he said. “But be warned, friend. There may come a day when this champion betrays you. And on that day, you will be able to hear my laughter from wherever you are cowering.”

  “It’s a risk worth taking,” I replied. “You’ll see.”

  Yusuf waved a hand dismissively, then helped me back to my feet. “Pneumonia is no joke. But I can cure it.”

  “With magic?”

  “No, antibiotics,” he replied. “I have a stock of them.”

  “Were you a doctor, back home?” I asked.

  Yusuf laughed. “Not in the least, but the divination magic here teaches the things you know about.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Divination spells answer any question, right? And since I know that antibiotics exist, I can ask how to make them. But if I don’t know about them, I would never get the ingredients.”

  That made sense. It explained why the answer to the medicine man’s questions about Elmira’s illness pertained to fluid in her lungs. They did not know what pneumonia was, nor did they know about its cures. “Divination sounds very literal.”

  “It’s a complicated art, that is for sure,” Yusuf said. “Let me fetch my tools and the barber. We might need to perform a very gruesome surgery. Fortunately, magic will help with that immensely.”

  Under the cover of darkness, illuminated by magic spheres, I watched up close exactly what the Robust Science could do. Yusuf’s barber, aided by many magical spells, was able to carefully work on Elmira, working to extract the fluid that had built up in her lungs, as well as administering potions and poultices that broke the fever. Yet, the spells for sleeping kept her still and silent the entire time.

  It was indeed a gruesome and bloody affair, but judging from the expertise of the work done, I could tell that this was not the first serious surgery Yusuf had overseen. The man had a true gift in recreating a surgical theater from my own world and I wondered what exactly was the man’s history. He had glossed over my question of him being a doctor, but this was all too much to be the work of a man removed from the world of medicine.

  By sunrise, the feat had been done. Elmira was breathing well, but was still unconscious. The antibiotics would heal her over time, yet recovery would not be quick. Yusuf and I sat alongside each other on a fallen log, watching as the sun slowly greeted us through the trees.

  “I must admit,” Yusuf said, “I’m glad that she’s okay.”

  “She’ll be grateful,” I replied.

  “I would prefer that she not know that I helped her, if possible,” he said.

  “Still worried about her revenge?”

  “Paranoia serves you well in this world,” Yusuf said, rubbing his eyes.

  “Perhaps…” I said. I wanted to ask him more about his background, but knew that he wasn’t in the mood. Instead, my mind turned to another matter. “Let me ask you, how many champions do you think are able to make these drugs?”

  “I doubt any of them are, to be honest,” Yusuf said. “Normally, you don’t catch many sicknesses, thanks to the gods here. But if you do, you’ll probably be dead too quickly to research a way out.”

  “What caused you to research antibiotics then?”

  “That was the first thing I did upon learning divination!” he said. “I thought that diseases worked the same way here as they do back home. I mean, could you imagine if I could cure all the plagues of the world? I’d be revered!”

  “But they’re different?”

  “Yes. It’s hard to explain, but the fact is, while everything looks similar to our own world, there are things we didn’t have to deal with. Magic infects everything, including DNA and germs. Penicillin doesn’t do a damn thing for them because it doesn’t affect magic. But we’re inoculated to all terrestrial diseases.”

  “Except for our own,” I murmured. “Interesting.” I leaned forward a little. “I hate to talk business so late, but have you considered selling these antibiotics?”

  “To who?”

  “The people who have the most money and power, the champions. Think about it. Until today, I didn’t even know how diseases worked. But now that I realize I could get annihilated by something as curable as pneumonia, I’m concerned with my own health. So, I could either buy my pills from you or research them myself.”

  Yusuf slowly nodded at that, the idea dawning on him. “And if I refuse to sell, you’d start researching on your own.”

  “Which cuts off any potential for revenue,” I said. “So, why not get way ahead of the curve? These aren’t hard to produce, are they?”

  “My alchemists know the formula quite well,” Yusuf said. “And are bound to secrecy.”

  “I could sell it for you,” I said. “Put you on my list of contacts that I represent.”

  “How are you able to turn anything into a business deal so quickly?” Yusuf asked. “But I would relish the extra income for an extremely cheap endeavor.”

  “Two rules though. First off, we charge quite a bit to those who are doing well, but to those who are smaller, we take care of them,” I said. “And second, we don’t refuse these things to anyone. Even if they can’t pay.”

 
; “So if a warlord who’s stomping on your door gets the plague, you want to cure him?” Yusuf asked.

  “If we are providing everyone with life-saving meds,” I said, “they certainly wouldn’t want to be attacking us, would they?”

  Chapter 35

  I left Yusuf’s estate with a bottle full of pills for my own use, and a few free samples to give out while on my circuit. It had not been my intention to make another trade deal hours after a serious surgery, but what can I say? I’m an opportunist.

  Elmira was still in a fragile state, but on the road to recovery. It was not in my interest to stick around and monitor her, as I had much more business to attend to. Yusuf’s barber, a terrifying man by the name of Homstad, had elected to stay at her townhall until she was fully recovered. His 6’5” stature, harrowing gaze and single word sentences did much to convince the people of Ulmack to let him stay.

  I departed after sleeping a few hours at the Inn, taking my horse and riding further south, towards the last town before the city of Manithor. I was pleased with how things had unfolded in the last few days, and if Elmira did make a full recovery, I would undoubtedly have a strong trade alliance with them. Ulmack had dealt with the Tradesmen in the past, but one strong-arm incident had them retract all deals and instead prompted them to rely upon their own self-sufficiency—hence the numerous independent resource gathering buildings scattering the entire Southern region.

  I was only a few hundred gold shy of getting to my goal of building a wall. I had already perfectly measured out exactly where I was going to put it and I felt very comfortable in the plan. The payments were still going out to the Tradesmen, to keep them off my back for the time being. I just needed to secure at least one more deal, and then I’d be set.

  With the delay involving Lady Elmira, I realized that I would have to cut short my plans to visit Manithor, if possible. Truthfully, I wasn’t expecting any kind of warm reception there, but I had been at least hoping to see what kind of influence the Tradies held over them. But now, I couldn’t afford the distraction. My last visit would be to the village of Gremvor, a place known for their excellent food exports. Apparently, the champion was a brilliant chef, and knew how to create many delicious treats that were sold as luxuries to bigger cities. I knew for a fact that the people of Euthos would pay a fortune for such delicacies, and so I hoped that I would be able to gain some kind of deal with their leader.

  As I took the branching path leading off the main road, the familiar scent of smoke greeted me. My eyes began to water slightly and Smiles neighed to inform me that he smelled something too. I cautiously rode uphill, taking note that billowing smoke could be seen high in the sky. My fears were confirmed as soon as I made it to the top of the hill. Gremvor was burning.

  The village itself had a wall, but there were many siege engines attached to it, as well as ladders allowing warriors free access to the interior. War had come to Gremvor, and from the looks of it, things were not going in its favor. Pieces of the wall had been shattered by artillery fire, the gates had been forced open and there was a large war camp in front of the village. It looked like I’d be making my trip to Manithor after all.

  As I turned my horse around to leave, six men in heavy armor emerged from the bushes. They began to excitedly chatter at the sight of me, albeit in a language I did not understand. The men drew their weapons at the sight of me and I quickly raised my hands.

  “Friendly, friendly!” I cried. “I’m just a traveler.”

  The men ignored my words and instead pulled me off my horse, wrenching me to the ground. For a moment I thought they were going to kill me, but instead they bound my hands and began to drag me towards the camp, speaking in their own language the whole way down. One of the other men grabbed Smiles’ reins and led him along as well.

  I said little, for fear of offending them in any way. It was clear they would be taking me to the person in charge, and the way their faces had lit up upon seeing me meant they were looking for someone. It might be a case of mistaken identity, but who knows, perhaps I would be able to use this to my advantage.

  We arrived at a particularly large tent, one embroidered with gold linings. They forced me onto my knees at the mouth of the tent and indicated that I needed to sit here, or else. I complied, for I was certainly not about to take my chances against the archers who were guarding the camp.

  One of the men went into the tent and spoke rapidly to someone, who replied in the same language. After a few minutes, a short man, adorned in the most glorious golden armor I had ever seen, emerged from the tent. He wasn’t terribly tall, but his armor made him look fearsome. His face was covered by the helmet, a traditional bascinet that had only a slit for the eyes to see.

  “You are not the man I am looking for,” the warrior said, slowly shaking his head. His words echoed a little, a side effect from the helmet.

  “I am just a passerby,” I explained. “Your men grabbed me before I had a chance to explain myself.”

  The warrior laughed at that. “They have been trained well then. Tell me, why should I not put you to death?”

  Many different answers raced through my head, but the biggest question was really whether I should reveal my status as champion or not. This man was clearly the leader and it was possible he was a champion himself. But he was also laying siege to another village and had no qualms about slaying a complete stranger. Would my status give me privilege, or provoke his wrath?

  “I am a trader, good sir,” I said. “I seek no quarrel with anyone.”

  At that, the warrior knelt down and pressed his helmet close to my face. “But I seek quarrel with those who interrupt my work. Tell me who you really are, lest I put my blade through your skull.”

  “My name is Charles Morris, Champion of Tine,” I confessed. I’m ashamed to admit that he was sufficiently intimidating me. The fact that I could not see his face, or read his body language, put me at a real disadvantage.

  “I have heard that name before,” the warrior said. He snapped his fingers in recollection. “Ah! Yes, the Tradesmen sent a condemnation of you, did they not?”

  “Aye, they did,” I said.

  “You are a poor merchant if you angered them,” the warrior said with a laugh. He drew the dagger at his side and carefully cut the ropes in between my hands. “But I have no qualm with Tine. You may leave.”

  “May I ask your name?”

  “I am Nicos the Great,” he replied, turning to enter into his camp. His sudden change in demeanor was fascinating. The moment he knew I was a champion, he set me free. But was this mercy? Or if he was a great conqueror, he knew that killing me would instantly make Tine a useless level 1 village with nothing in it. Perhaps in meeting him, I had now been added to his list. But if he wasn’t interested in killing me, perhaps he would be interested in a bargain. After all, it was clear he was the winner here.

  I followed him into his tent and he did not seem to object. There was a table set up with a map of the region on it. Dozens of wooden figures littered the table, same as Harold’s table back in Euthos.

  “What is it that you wish of me?” Nicos asked, turning his attention to some documents on the table. “I have much to do.”

  “You are a champion?” I asked.

  “Aye, of Cinder,” he said. “It’s very far south, you wouldn’t be able to reach it on these roads.”

  “A far way to go to conquer a city,” I commented.

  “Do you fear me visiting Tine? Unlikely, I am here to settle business with an old enemy, one who has vexed me to no end,” Nicos replied. “But I must repeat myself here, what is it that you want? Speak now, or leave me be.”

  “Well, I was making my way to this city to trade with it,” I said. “Unfortunately, it seems that dream is now dead.”

  “I would say so,” Nicos agreed.

  “But perhaps we could do business? I have opened up a new trade route and—”

  My words were interrupted with
a hearty laugh from the warrior king. “I do not trade, Charles Morris. I simply take what I need. My armies are endless and my weapons are keen for destruction. In my homeland, I am a great terror to behold, and even the champions pay me tribute. I have no need for trade.”

  If that were true, how did he know about the sanctions against me? He must conduct some business, even if it were only with the Tradesmen.

  “There must be something you need,” I said.

  Nicos shook his head. “I fear not. Even if we were to shake hands on a trade deal, how would you get your supplies to me? A mighty river divides my territory from yours and I will allow no bridges to be constructed to get across.”

  That made sense, from a tactical perspective. If Nicos was the kind of man who got into many wars, restricting travel through only boats would be beneficial for him. And the cost of creating a new trade route was one that I simply could not handle at this point. As much as I hated to admit it, there was nothing for me here.

  But my back was also against the wall here. I needed the gold to build that wall and I needed it yesterday. I took a deep breath and changed up my strategies. “How about a loan then?” I asked.

  Nicos looked up from his paperwork and stared right at me. I could not see his face, but knew the expression was one of amusement and bewilderment. “You cannot be serious? I have deep, deep coffers.”

  “I’m not asking to loan money to you, the opposite, actually,” I said. “Money can be sent directly to one another, without a need for shipments, right? Then I would suggest that you start putting these deep coffers to work.”

  “Go on…” Nicos said. I could hear a bit of interest in his voice and continued.

  “You have quite a bit of money, but I’m guessing unless you really need something, it just sits there, right?”

  “I do have an excess of capital,” Nicos agreed. He gestured towards a pair of stools and I took my seat after he did.

  “So, why not make money off of your own money?” I asked. “First off, you have something that other lenders won’t, and that is the credibility of your background. You are a terrifying warlord with quite the reach. The champions who borrow from you will have every incentive to pay it back, lest they lose their homes to your wrath.”