by Will Molinar
But Cubbins remembered, and knew the man, Jon something was his name. Poor man, too young, much too young. Jenkins would share his fate, and there was nothing to be done about it because that force behind the curtain, whistling away a happy tune, couldn’t be harmed. Jenkins was lost.
Madam Dreary stood still against the far wall. Cubbins could see her there, motionless, emotionless. Her eyes were blank, her lips parted, and a line of drool dripped down her mouth. That troubled Cubbins. He always thought her so beautiful, and now she looked to be a simpleton, a sorry lunatic from Sea Haven Asylum.
Unri’s breathing changed pitch, from heavy and fast, to tight and fast. His eyes stared straight up at the ceiling, and his face continued to sweat and strain. His hands squeezed hard, over and over, much as Cubbins’ had before. Whatever discipline the foreign man possessed was at least at the same level as the police captain.
Then Cubbins sat up and felt himself again. He steadied his breathing and the pounding in his chest. A few moments later, Unri sat up too. They stared at each other, both speechless.
They’d broken the spell.
Chapter Twenty One
They decided to shut the market down as a show of strength. Muldor coordinated with Tomlinson, who was their man in every way possible. The new market liaison was ready to prove himself to the Guild Master.
The merchants had no choice but to capitulate with The Guild’s wishes. Their membership was at stake, and so was the future of their organization. They would complain about lost income, but what was a day or two compared with the rest of their lives?
Muldor made a personal appearance, without his disguise, at the marketplace, his entourage in tow. All his Dock Masters, Lawson, Becket, even Crocker, walked behind him with a dock security, and also Tomlinson and his aide, a man named Nolan. Nolan was a short man with balding hair and a slight limp from an injury he’d received years back when a cart over spilled and struck his ankle.
People stared at them as they worked their way through the market stalls. They chattered and pointed. The rumor mill had been grinding for weeks, about what had happened to Muldor, what the state of The Guild was, on and on, so many wild theories, and Muldor was glad. The more outlandish the better. The city council would take notice and thus both organizations would be respected. Muldor was willing to think of them as equals from then on.
Lawson suggested threatening the city council with another riot, but Muldor refused. In the end, the rioters would be shut down with only injuries, deaths, as the final result. They had the people behind them, and when they went to the city council, that and the power of The Guild would be enough.
“I want blockades set up on Peach Avenue, Porters Lane, and all other approaches to the main square,” Muldor said and pointed across the street to the spots indicated.
Tomlinson nodded and ordered some of his workers to roll large wooden structures, already in place on streets. They were about chest height, too short to stop anyone from climbing over, but plastered with signs warning anyone to keep away from the area. It was a lock-out, a strike of the free market trade for the city.
“We’re still keeping the docks open, right Muldor?” Becket said for the fourth or fifth time that morning.
“For the time being, Master Becket,” Muldor said. “But if need be, we will begin a total shut down of the city’s trade.”
“But that will hurt the Guild. If we can’t trade, we can’t make money. What about our contracts?”
“We’ve spoken on that matter already,” Muldor said. “These are the difficult decisions that must be made.”
Lawson stared daggers at Becket, and the other man withered under the gaze, nodding and apologizing for his hesitation. It was good to have Lawson around.
“We’re finished, Muldor,” Tomlinson said, and the older man, although still hardy and thick about his shoulders, looked tired. They’d been busy all night. He pointed to each section of the square. “We’ve set up perimeters checks along the connecting streets. And posted guards there as well, all of them dock security. Officer Dillon sent some police to back us up, so it should be fine keeping people out.”
“Very good,” Muldor said.
That didn’t stop people from gawking along the side streets. The merchants stood by with their carts, speaking with their personal assistants or guards, trying to appear nonchalant, but Muldor sensed a bubbling nervousness underneath.
No lock-out of the marketplace had occurred in decades, before Muldor had even become old enough to know what a market was. They always did business, no matter the turmoil in the city. Even during the riots, the market place sold its wares to the hungry people.
Hours passed, and it felt like days. His troupe became fidgety and restless, talking of idle things. The arena was the main topic. Thruck was unstoppable, winning fight after fight, no matter what obstacles they put before him. They spoke of the weather, how cold it was for the summer. Muldor said little, worried on how his ploy might be conceived.
The hope was the exposure would incite his enemies to show themselves, to come out, and fall into his trap. But there was a risk. He doubted they would try to murder him in plain sight, but there was no guarantee. They might’ve believed it worth the risk. Even dead, his plan would’ve gone forward, he had the pieces in place.
The day grew late. Dusk settled in, and at long last a new element came into place. A commotion near the south side entrance brought their heads around in that direction. Muldor peered and saw a group of people attempting to cross the barrier, but the guards were holding them back. Muldor flicked his head to Lawson.
“I’m going,” he said and ran off in that direction.
A short time later, Lawson came trotting up with several people. One of them was the man Muldor wished it would be, Lord Cassius.
The older man, with his longish hair and intelligent eyes, glanced about. His inner turmoil hid under a veil of control. There were warring emotions in the tilt to the man’s chin, but he kept his outer demeanor professional, even friendly.
Cassius looked around them all, his aides and guards a step behind him. “Gentlemen of the Guild. I trust there is a reasonable explanation to this nonsense. Why have you closed down the marketplace?”
“A very simple arrangement to get your attention,” Muldor said. “I hope it demonstrates the power of The Guild as we control the market.”
“And we control the docks, too,” Lawson said, standing next to Cassius, fire in his eyes. Muldor kept his frown to himself but hoped Lawson would settle down. This wasn’t the place for tempers to flare.
Cassius eyed the man. His hands in the sleeves of his robes, and Muldor saw the gears moving in his head. He flicked his gaze back to Muldor, and when he spoke, his voice was still controlled.
“I see. Well, yes, you have demonstrated your power and influence in this city. For what purpose I cannot fathom, but perhaps if you would be so kind as to follow me back to City Hall, we can discuss what it is that seems to be bothering you.”
“No, but you can follow us back to the Western Docks,” Muldor said. “We have a meeting place arranged there.”
Cassius folded his arms over his chest and then stroked his chin. The creases in his face stretched and thinned. “Fine, I will be there.”
“And we require the rest of the city council to be there as well. This proposal involves the city entire.”
Cassius hesitated. “Give me an hour.”
With that he turned and left, the entourage of people behind him.
At the preordained time, Muldor and his people gathered in one of the largest warehouse rooms they had at the Western Docks. Muldor had them move furniture, crates, boxes, and dozens of bags around to fit some long tables and chairs. The mess was preferable; it would remind Cassius and the others of The Guild’s influence and power.
Muldor sat at the head of the table as Cassius would have had they been at City Hall. Becket, Lawson, and Crocker sat close by him, along with their assistants, and so
me of Muldor’s closest helpers, Styles among them. Quite a large gathering for their side. There were enough chairs for the city council to sit, but their aides would have to stand. Oftentimes indignity bred submission.
They waited longer than an hour, and Muldor felt the tension in the air. The Dock Masters were on their turf, but they were inviting in enemies with more power than they had on the surface. The city ran things, that’s what everyone thought. Muldor had to convince his brethren this was not so.
Soon, the delegations arrived. Maury Stewart, the new head of Commerce, came and sat. Muldor knew the man but not well enough. Two men with him took their places behind. Stewart had shrewd but kind features. He kept his gaze neutral, nodding to Muldor.
No one quite knew where Captain Cubbins was, so Lieutenant Dillon came in with a few officers and sat down. A slight smirk played at his lips as he looked at Muldor, but the Guild Master did not return the glance.
Raul Parkins came, glanced about and almost looked ready to leave out of indifference. The City Watch Commander was alone, and that made sense. City Watch wasn’t a high priority to anyone, except those on City Watch.
Lord Cassius came in with his toady, Lord Olivier Damour, and with their aides and guards. The room became quite full.
With Lord Falston being murdered along with Nikoli Paterson, the City Council looked a bit thin to Muldor’s eyes. It would’ve been thinner still that day if they were successful.
Cassius and some of his aides spoke in low voices with one another. Every so often Stewart opined about something or another. Raul looked both bored and nervous and didn’t speak. Dillon laughed over something his men said to him, and there was a general hubbub about the room.
Muldor thought about calling the proceedings to order but decided to let them stew for a bit. It was enjoyable to watch them talk and squirm. Cassius looked at him from across the room with a frown and a look of frustration.
At last the lord shook his head and threw up his hands in exasperation. “I believe we are all here, Master Muldor. I think you can get on with it if you please.”
The noise took a moment or two to die down. Silence enveloped them. All eyes turned his way. This was it.
“I thank all of you,” Muldor said, “for taking time out of your busy schedules to indulge me in this meeting. Our city has been the victim of many devious individuals, both from within and without.” He paused and looked around the room, letting them think. “There are some people missing. We must have them here.”
The Guild Master shared a look with Dillon. The police officer smiled and rose. He and some of his men left the room while the city council and their people muttered in confusion. Cassius looked at Muldor. His expression changed from neutrality to interest. Muldor kept himself passive.
A few moments later, Dillon and his men returned with Mal Dollenger in chains. The room’s tension rose, and the council people muttered louder. The Dock Master looked frightened and outraged but kept his mouth shut. He looked defeated and broken, just as Muldor wanted him to be. He was a tall, lanky man, but the heavy chains around his wrists and ankles kept him low.
Someone bent over Muldor’s ear and whispered. Muldor controlled his emotions. Maggur was missing, gone from the city by all accounts. That was unfortunate, but wouldn’t matter.
“Guild Master Muldor,” Cassius said. “What is the meaning of this? Would you care to explain?”
“One moment.”
He motioned to Styles, and the man left the room for a few moments, returning with Drake and his bodyguard. The room was jittery now. People whispered to one another and stared at the roguish mercenary. Muldor pulled out the arrests warrants and handed out copies.
As they were doled out to the rest of the table, each member of the council began reading them with interest. Dillon and a few of his men walked over to Raul Parkins and stood behind him. The man didn’t notice because he was busy reading his own death warrant. Then he glanced around, confused and befuddled.
“As you can see,” Muldor said, “these are certified arrest warrants for the persons responsible for our city’s recent troubles. Both the theft of the goods from our neighbor Janisberg, and the attack on our town by foreign bodies, in particular mercenaries, were perpetrated by individuals within The Merchants Guild and the city council.” He gave a signal to Dillon, and the man acted.
The police lieutenant put his hand on Raul’s shoulder and ordered him to stand. People murmured, and Raul gave a start. The officers stood closer, but Raul stayed seated. He stared at Muldor, horror in his eyes, not believing what was happening.
“Forgive my confusion, Master Muldor,” Cassius said. “But if you wouldn’t mind explaining further.”
Muldor raised a hand. “We have witnesses that will attest to the culpability of Master Raul Parkins, commander of the City Watch, in the attack of the foreign mercenaries upon Sea Haven. Our city’s charter states the responsibility of the City Watch includes protecting our fair land from invaders and thus, when the mercenaries attacked and murdered our citizens, it becomes our responsibility of the council, of which I am a member, to see to those responsible are put to task.”
The murmuring grew louder as Raul was forced to his feet. He was chained and never made a sound. They tossed him near Dollenger, and the two men kneeled in the middle of the floor, right in front of the tables.
Cassius stayed silent, staring at Muldor as aides and associates flittered around him, speaking in his ear, speaking with Stewart or Damour, but the Acting Governor ignored them. His mind twisted; Muldor could see it in his eyes. The lord indicted Dollenger. “And he, Master Muldor? What is his crime, and what is your evidence?”
“Embezzlement, corruption and greed. I have here documented proof of his illicit involvement in the theft of valuable goods which were used to hire said mercenaries in the attempted coup of city hall by my predecessor. Along with Dock Master Maggur, whose whereabouts are unknown at the time, making his guilt obvious, Master Dollenger’s role in this affair is clear.”
He handed out more copies, signed billing labels of the stolen goods with Dollenger and Maggur’s signatures. The rest of the Dock Master’s names were absent. Muldor felt a tremor of mixed emotions at this blatant omission, this outright lie, but it was for the best. The Guild could not run without him or Becket, Lawson and Crocker. They had to remain in place.
The rest of the council read the documents with obvious glee, perhaps thinking all this nonsense would be put to rest. They wanted people to blame, and Muldor had given them some.
“You bastard, Muldor!” Raul said. “You lying bastard! You damn—”
One of Dillon’s men thumped him in between his shoulder blades, and Raul sprawled. The doomed man winced and cried in pain but kept his mouth shut.
Muldor eyed Cassius, wondering what he was thinking. It came down to him, as the most influential man in the city. What he decided would determine if the fight would continue or if they had won their position for The Guild. Their organization would be secure. Maybe not for all time but they would win some credibility with the council and some respect within both the city council and the city at large.
Cassius rubbed his forefinger and thumb together. “And what of our missing conspirator, Master Maggur?”
“Our agents are at this very moment working to find him and bring him to justice. If he were not guilty, would he have left town? Why else would he try to escape punishment if not because of his culpability?”
There was a ripple of assent from the members of the council and the members of The Guild. Muldor had them. They would do whatever he asked of them, Cassius included. The gears continued to move, like the depths of a master crafted clock, turning and turning in his mind. This was another gambit in their game, another move across the board, another victory, but not the final play.
“Very well, Master Muldor. This is sufficient, but I also understand there is an amount that must be paid to the proper offices in Janisberg. A very substantial amo
unt, to repay the stolen goods and to recompense them for their trouble.”
“Indeed. It is in everyone’s interest that the amount be negotiated further. Our navy is being rebuilt, our trade has never been higher or more profitable, and I have some other changes to the way we do business at our port that will be of interest to the council. Do you wish to hear them?”
They did. Muldor outlined his plan, which was Castellan’s plan in fact. Something they never had time to implement. They would increase the cost of docking for all merchant’s vessels not members of The Merchants Guild and increase taxes on all goods and services sold from the city to any foreign buyers. If someone wanted what they sold, they had to pay for it.
It wasn’t a huge increase at first, but it made anyone not part of their group take notice that would be in their best interest to become so. Current Guild members would have to negotiate with foreign sellers higher prices for the goods sold in town.
Any Guild members that didn’t come on board would have to sell their wares somewhere else. They had no choice. Membership cost them dues of course, but the ability to sell in Sea Haven’s famed market square had enough perks to make it impossible to resist. Muldor knew there would be no problems on that end. There wasn’t a single merchant that would break ranks.
A portion of extra money would be used for the City Council. Muldor proposed a new position be elevated above the common level of administrator and become City Treasurer.
“And you had someone in mind?” Cassius said, sounding amused.
“I will leave that to you, Lord Cassius.” It was a compromise, one Muldor hoped Cassius would recognize. Anything to help tip the scales in their favor was worth it. The rest of the room seemed happy with the arrangement. There were questions. Muldor and Becket were more than happy to provide details on the set up, but there were no arguments. The council members were getting paid, and that’s all that mattered.
