by Brian Keller
Birt was surprised to see him, “Nice clothes. Surely you weren’t robbed… did you lose a bet?” Cooper chuckled, “I am in disguise, and dropping off a satchel of Apex.” He extended the bag towards Birt. Birt’s eyes went wide as he accepted the bundle, almost by reflex, “What are you doing with a bag of Apex?! We’re certainly not selling it. We should just burn it or something.” Cooper shrugged, “We’ll safeguard it for now. It might prove handy if we need to plant it somewhere incriminating or turn it over at some point as a gesture of good intentions.” He gave Birt a brief wave and turned to walk back to the Waterfront. Birt let the bundle hang by the ruined strap while shaking his head, muttering, “Good intentions towards whom?”
He divided his time over the next several hours between watching the warehouse directly and watching the surrounding streets and lanes from a series of uncomfortable chairs positioned in front of various taverns along the Waterfront. Several nearby shops were just closing up when he noticed a few extra patrols coming in more frequently and no patrols going back out. The sun hadn’t set when several other Waterfront citizens noticed and had begun to follow the patrols. Cooper selected a vantage point and observed the onlookers. It looked like they were simply curious, but one never knew. The soldiers of the Watch had encircled the warehouse he’d pointed out earlier. Off to one side, a thin, hawkish man appeared to give an order to a Watch Captain who, in turn gave a sweeping arm signal. In that moment, soldiers of the Watch surged forward and three of the onlookers scattered. Whether they ran only to put distance between themselves and the coming violence, or whether they had other motives was unclear but Cooper decided to follow at least one of them. Besides, he’d seen all he needed. The light was fading but it hadn’t been enough to conceal the hawkish man’s badge of office. The man was the Royal Spymaster, Yoren Aporigh.
As he followed one of the fleeing onlookers through the Waterfront, he had other things to consider. Bringing the Spymaster out in the open might be simple enough, but the fact that he was surrounded by over a dozen armed soldiers of the City Watch hardly made him an accessible target. At least now he knew well enough to recognize him on sight.
The man he was following hustled inside a Waterfront bar and leaned over a table where four men were seated. Within seconds all four men jumped up and the man closest to the onlooker shoved the man out of his way as he rushed to the door. That man was accompanied by one other and they went out the front door and made a straight line to the pier where two of the Lukasi ships were docked, each flying the flag of Caldori. The other two men left just as hastily out the back of the tavern. Cooper already knew which ships came from Lukasi and the onlooker was no longer important. It was the other two men he chose to follow.
They walked at quick pace along several streets of the Waterfront, and on further into Batter’s Field. They stopped at one house for less than four minutes, Cooper used that time to memorize the location of the house. When the men emerged, they’d been joined by a third man. They turned directly south and took the most direct route to the South Bridge. They paused only long enough to observe both ends of the bridge and the walkway on the other side of the river before they briskly crossed the Whitefoam. As they walked through the Trade Quarter they looked neither left nor right as they continued south. In a few minutes, it became obvious where they were going, the house in the Dregs. He felt a moment of concern for the Dregs kids who were watching the house. These men, in their current state of agitation, might harm any of those kids if they noticed them. His concern passed as he recalled his own experiences as a House kid. If he ever saw a group of people in a hurry, two thoughts would enter his mind. First, was there any chance for profit or windfall? And second, was the risk too great to try and take advantage of it? Those kids would see these men and immediately recognize that it was time to disappear.
He allowed the men to get further ahead as they reached the boundary between the Trade Quarter and the Dregs and he took a more leisurely route to arrive nearby and watch from a distance. The sun had dipped below the horizon completely and there was little residual light remaining. He tried to imagine the conversations that would be taking place inside the house. Would they stop production for a few days and wait to see what happened? Are they simply informing the men in this house that one of the warehouses had been raided and not to deliver anything further to that location? Were they inquiring about the quantity that was stored in that warehouse so that they could assess their losses?
As much as he wanted to know, it wasn’t worth approaching close enough to try to overhear it. He’d know from their activity over the next couple of days, anyway. He knew of three other storehouses being used to stockpile Apex. Mardon might know of more by now. Still, Cooper had other matters of his own to tend to that would occupy his time during the next few days; putting a little additional pressure on the drug peddlers was the easy part. He made his way west through the Dregs and into Miller’s Flats.
He had just entered the House when Miss Camilla approached and asked, “How much time will you need to arrange transportation? Nice clothes, by the way.” Cooper swept his hand from his shoulder to his thigh, “This ensemble? It’s something I just picked up.” He paused a moment and answered her question, “About four hours, if I had to guess. Maybe less, but to arrive in a rush and request assistance in three hours or less somehow seems unprofessional.” Miss Camilla smiled thinly, “Four hours should be more than adequate. They might all be well enough to move as early as tomorrow, but one or two might be served better by recovering for an additional day. I’ll know by tomorrow afternoon. I’m assuming you’ll want to move everyone at night?” Cooper nodded then smiled widely, “I worry less about moving through the town, it’s climbing down from boardwalk to longboat, then the movement across water and climbing from longboat to ship that concerns me most.” Miss Camilla opened her mouth to speak, closed it, then opened again, “Climbing? No one said anything about climbing!” Cooper shrugged, “So…not tomorrow then, Miss?” He winked. Camilla looked a little flustered as she replied, “No. Not unless you were inclined to divide the group and move a few of them later.” Cooper shrugged, “I suppose we could, but I’d rather not. A second trip doubles the risk.” Camilla nodded, “Perhaps the day after tomorrow, then. I’ll let you know.”
Mister Ysel’s complexion had mostly returned to normal, as had his demeanor. He had waited patiently for Cooper to finish his conversation with Miss Camilla before he approached, “Have you made any progress in procuring an example of the seal to be placed along the signature line of the deeds?” Cooper let his head hang forward, “No, sir. I have not. I had completely forgotten about it. We may need those documents quickly, but out of necessity that might have to wait until we get everyone moved to the Ruins.” He raised his head, and his eyebrows, “How do they look? The deeds?” Mister Ysel leaned back, hooked his thumbs in his waistband and smiled, “Considering the materials and conditions, I think it’s some of my best work. With the appropriate affixed seal, I doubt they would ever be questioned, even by His Royal Highness himself.” Cooper didn’t add, “That would depend on who’s in possession of the genuine documents.” A concerned expression must’ve found its way onto his face, or Mister Ysel was just that good at reading subconscious hints. The man reassured him, “These documents only verify actual, legitimate business dealings. There should be no reason for anyone to doubt their authenticity.” Though that thought did nothing to allay his concerns, he placed a hand on Mister Ysel’s shoulder and presented a reassured smile, “I’m sure you’re right, sir.”
Cooper collected a few pieces of paper, quill and ink from where Mister Ysel had been working and began writing a letter of his own. He had a few stops to make tomorrow. It wouldn’t do to be unprepared if certain opportunities were to present themselves. He took a few minutes to make sure he had several key points in his mind and once he felt he had everything phrased correctly, he settled in to write.
The following morning, his first st
op was a silversmith in the Trade Quarter. In his ‘new’ clothes he was ignored initially until he flashed a gold coin for the tradesman to see. He placed his order and was told that it would be at least two days before the order would be ready. The man could get the material easily enough, but he didn’t have it on hand, “I don’t suppose ye’d rather have your order done in silver? Silver I got, an’ plenty of it.” Cooper shook his head, “No, sir. I came to you because you do specialized work with soft metals. This needs to be done right. I’ll pay half now, if you prefer, though the materials shouldn’t cost much.” The smith shook his head, “Not necessary, lad. Jes’ pay me in full when the job’s done.”
He spent the remainder of the day observing addicts and peddlers, he was curious whether they’d changed their methods after being attacked and robbed yesterday. He noticed a few ‘citizens’ who didn’t belong. Their clothes were right but their posture and mannerisms weren’t. These men were the first of the Spymaster’s actual ‘secret police’ he’d seen with his own eyes. They were obviously veteran City Watch that the Spymaster trusted and had ‘awarded’ a special duty that required they trade in their armor for normal clothes. By the way they moved and acted, they’d been wearing armor only yesterday and they tended to cluster together now for support, or perhaps commiseration. The townspeople saw them too, as had the Lukasi peddlers. For a radius of a couple of blocks surrounding the police, the men from Lukasi were nowhere to be seen. He wouldn’t learn anything new unless he could find where the drugs were being sold now. He decided that all he’d need to do was follow the addicts. It took a couple hours but he finally found that the drugs were being sold through a new, and completely fraudulent, fish vendor cart. Cooper almost smiled at the thought of an actual fish vendor in the Waterfront. Wharfsiders already had that market saturated. Collectively, they couldn’t sell all they caught daily and they filleted the excess and either salted, dried, or added ingredients to it in order to entice customers who were looking for something other than raw fish. They were probably very pleased to sell a cartload of their fish to these peddlers, but once it got reported that a fish vendor on the Waterfront was selling Apex, that might affect all fish vendors. That result would certainly rile the entire community. He’d wait and see if this tactic continued for more than a day. If it did, he could inform either the Watch, or even better, the Secret Police about the specific stall and address both problems with one conversation.
He spent that night in the Ruins. He greeted everyone warmly enough but waved off attempts at conversation and he curled up under a blanket and fell asleep quickly. In the first light of morning he checked the progress of the reconstruction. Dailen was already awake and setting stones in place for the floor of the forge. The walls had already been rebuilt and reinforced. Cooper teased, “You sure you know what you’re doing there?” Dailen’s head jerked upward and he looked around, his eyes settling on Cooper, “I didn’t see you come in.” He gazed around the rocks he’d recently lain, “I think so. I’ve been watching the masons. They position the stones to fit them together, then pull them up, sometimes dig out the space to make the stone lay right, toss in some sand, replace the stones, tamp them down and then fill the gaps with mortar. They should be finishing up with the walls on one of the other buildings this morning, the place where we’ll move the folks from the quarry. Carpenters should have that roof patched by lunchtime. I thought I might save the masons an hour or so this afternoon by placing as many of these stones as I can.” Dailen stood and straightened his back. Cooper was impressed with Dailen’s strength. He doubted whether he could do more than simply roll some of the stones. Dailen looked around the Ruins, “Do we have enough coin to pay for all of this?” Cooper looked around as well, “Yes, but we’ll have many other expenses at the same time. We will start Collections again, once we gain a bit more strength and stability. We have several additional options for generating more income that’ll be opening up during the next couple of months. Either that or we’ll all be in chains or dangling at the end of a noose.” Dailen shuddered, “I think I’d rather not know all that, if you don’t mind. Just tell me how I can help. Other than that, I’ll consider ignorance to be a blessing.” Cooper shrugged, “You’re already doing it. You’re managing most of the rebuild efforts. Without you doing your part, everything that I’m working on wouldn’t matter in the long run. We’d all just be fugitives looking for a place to hide.” Dailen brushed some of the dirt from his hands as he looked at Cooper from the corner of his eye, “Seriously?” Cooper turned to face Dailen directly, “Absolutely. You don’t think we’re doing all this just to give you something to do?! The ideal situation will be that we build an entire neighborhood, but with underground sewers like in the Grid.” Dailen looked surprised, “The Royals would notice that. They’d send the Watch, and the Army… it’d be worse than before!” Cooper shook his head, “We’re working on that. You just keep the work crews on task. As long as we stay on schedule and can handle things properly, those concerns should never surface. Our main cause for concern will be when the local merchants send sellswords our way once they realize how much competition we’ll be.” Dailen raised an eyebrow, “That’s supposed to make me feel better?” Cooper smiled and shrugged, “At least it wouldn’t be the Army. Besides, once the merchants learn they can do business with us rather than hire sellswords, fail, and then face our retaliation, they’ll increase our income even further.” He left Dailen to consider what he’d said and began walking south. As he looked around the Ruins, at all the property that Jarell had purchased using Guild funds, he thought of the last conversation he’d had with the former Master of Coin. He wondered how much of the reconstruction might actually be what Jarell had originally intended.
Upon reaching the House in Miller’s Flats, Miss Camilla was quick to approach him, “I’d say we could try moving everyone tonight, but there are a couple of them that I’m still concerned about.” One of the men walked near, Cooper recognized him as the porter who had been close to death. Considering that, he looked fairly well now, though still far from fully recovered. Despite his current weakness, Cooper could see that the quarry hadn’t broken him or robbed him of his spirit. The man interrupted their conversation, “I might be speaking when no one asked, but I’ll say my piece an’ go back to sit by the fire. You kids risked a lot to come break us out. You risked a lot again by hiding us here. If you need to move us somewhere else tonight, somewhere safer –whether safer for us or for you don’ matter; we’ll do it. I speak for all of us when I tell you that not one of us will whimper or complain.” Cooper nodded to the man and turned back to Camilla. She smiled awkwardly and said, “Well then, I guess we’re ready. Tonight?” Cooper watched the man as he walked over to the fire. The ladies had arranged several pots, pans and utensils nearby and were well into the ritual of cooking breakfast. His stomach grumbled as he replied, “After breakfast, I’ll go and set things up for tonight. I might not be back until this evening though. When I left this morning it seemed that our people in the Ruins would be ready for us, but I’d rather look in and make sure.”
As he awaited his turn for breakfast he considered that he’d planned on informing the Watch of one of the other Lukasi storehouses tonight. That would now have to wait. He didn’t want any extra activity in the Waterfront while they were moving through. He looked around the room, making sure he had an accurate count of all the people. After speaking with Mardon, he’d return to the Ruins but not just to check on progress. There were other arrangements to be made as well.
His walk to the Wharf City and subsequent visit with Mardon left him no more knowledgeable regarding the Apex trade, but he and Mardon agreed that waiting until after midnight to move the passengers was unnecessary. As Cooper put it, “It might be better to leave the Dregs boardwalk an hour before midnight. By the time they paddled across the bay, and got everyone into and out of the Wharf City and then entered the Waterfront, there would still be a few people about.” Both of them knew that movin
g a small crowd through deserted streets would leave nothing else for the City Watch to look at. Even if they wanted to look the other way, it would be difficult for them to justify. As he stood to leave he informed the First, “We’ll have twenty-nine people with few personal belongings, but count on carrying thirty to allow for any extra weight.” The First Merchant nodded, “We should only need four boats, but I’ll send five.” The man patted his pouch, “With that many boats, and that many oarsmen, you’ll still have a little left on account. But it will have dwindled significantly.” Cooper shook the First’s extended hand, “Let me know if there’s no remaining balance before we conclude the business we discussed earlier. I may require one more service from you before then.”
Cooper made his way quickly through the Waterfront, not looking for Apex merchants and avoiding the addicts who seemed to have become more prevalent than ever, and more desperate. During his observations yesterday, one man that was very far along his downward spiral of addiction had accosted one of the secret police. The addict had been killed outright. No arrest. No effort to detain him had been made. Cooper had wondered whether that was an indication of just how far things had fallen, or whether the Watch and the Army had new orders regarding how Apex merchants and addicts were to be dealt with. Most likely, the secret police had killed the man simply to give the citizens the impression that they were sellswords. In any case, the addict was dead and the secret police had drawn even more attention to themselves.
