John Carr - Siege of Tarr-Hostigos

Sirna laughed. "It sounds like an exciting life. What are you doing in Hos-Hostigos?"

"I was staying with a young lady in Agrys City, which at that time was considered the most civilized city in the world-but only to those in the Northern Kingdoms. The most civilized city in the world has to be Xiphlon, at the mouth of the Mother River. I could tell you stories, but not now." Gasphros paused, gave her a bawdy wink before continuing, "Anyway, when I heard about the new King Kalvan and his miraculous battle against Styphon's House-a thoroughly corrupt band of rogues, by the way-I decided that Hostigos Town was the place for me. And I haven't regretted my decision once. This new University is the wonder of the world and is a lodestone for the most wondrous minds and learned men of every stripe. If it isn't happening in Hos-Hostigos, it isn't happening anywhere! Among his many talents it turns out that our Great King is a musician; I've learned some wonderful melodies from him-most inspiring."

Gasphros' enthusiasm was catching, and Sirna found herself in a much better mood as they returned to the Grand Hall, now a temporary ballroom. Had Gasphros not been plucked from her arm by two young girls, she might have been tempted to spend the evening with him. As it was, she was enthralled by the formal dancing to lutes, lyres and some sort of keyboard mechanism in the shape of a cooking stove. The music was pleasant and she recognized the melody Stardust, the Hoagy Carmichael standard that had been a hit on First Level airwaves a decade or so ago. Another of Kalvan's contributions to Aryan-Transpacific's musical legacy. She was asked to dance by several young men, but she turned them down. She'd been born with two left feet and, unlike Eldra who was dancing every number, it took her ages to learn the steps and motions that made dancing enjoyable.

Then she saw the Great King dancing with Eldra, who was whispering into his ear. You're out of your league here, Eldra! She watched as Kalvan shook his head no and went off to talk with a man she recognized as Captain-General Harmakros.

Eldra did not take well to the role of the spurned woman; the look that crossed her face would have frightened a grizzly back into hibernation. Over in the corner the scraggly bearded Duke Skranga watched the attempted assignation play out-missing nothing. Sirna hoped she never caught his eyes; true, the bald and bandy legged former horse-trader had a charm that defied both logic and good sense, but she'd met more than her share of seedy-looking professors and knew that a good kick in the crotch-if all else failed-always restored their good sense.

At first she thought Eldra was coming over to talk with her, but instead she stepped into the open arms of Democriphon, the handsome cavalry colonel who was reported to have broken more hearts in Hostigos Town than even Skranga. The two of them, as they danced some ritualized piece that defied Sirna's limited coordination, gazed into each other's eyes as if they'd each just discovered the perfect melody. Sirna looked around for Sain; she had a feeling she was going to be going home by herself tonight.

Verkan was playing catch-up, visiting his various Greffan businesses, which had been flourishing the last year, while he'd been jaunting back and forth between Home Time-Line and Hostigos. He hadn't been back in Greffa for half a year and reading over the Verkan Fireseed Works ledger he was amazed at the profit it was making, which was surprising since they were practically giving fireseed away. He had had to see that most of this funneled back to Kalvan as part of their licensing agreement. The Verkan Fireseed Works was selling the real Hostigi fireseed. It wasn't Kalvan's fault that most of the fireseed works that had sprung up in Greffa after Kalvan had announced the gunpowder formula had mangled the instructions! Still, most of it was better than the fireseed Styphon's House was still selling in the Middle Kingdoms, which was powdered-not corned and ground-as was the fireseed they sold in the Five Kingdoms.

For centuries Styphon's House had gotten away with selling an inferior product at inflated prices. No wonder there was so little love for the Temple in Grefftscharr or any of the other Middle Kingdoms.

The goods he was importing from Hostigos, as part of his cover as a pack trader, were also making money-especially the casks of Ermut's brandy. He was going to have to be careful. If he continued to amass this much local wealth, he'd soon become a target of King Theovacar. Verkan had already been targeted by the highly born but lightly-pursed nobility. The gentle knock at the door reminded him he wasn't alone.

"Come in."

His assistant Zinganna, Zinna to the locals, stuck her head in the doorway. "Your afternoon appointment is here, Trader."

"Invite him in and bring a flask of Ermut's Best." She gave him a conspiratorial wink and closed the door. Verkan took his alcodote and removed two of his finest glass goblets from the cabinet behind his hardwood desk. The Grefftscharrers were used to the local mead and ale, but distilled liquor tossed them for a loop. Kalvan's brandy was much easier to administer than a hypno-mech and left no traces of First Level contamination for the new Greffa University Study Team to worry over.

Verkan used his First Level total recall to pull up his mental file on Duke Ruffulo. Ruffulo was in his middle years, married with three children. The Duke was the oldest son of one of Theovacar's grandfather's loyalists. The Duke owned a large estate bordering on Thagnor, which explained his leanings toward Theovacar; Prince Varrack was more openly ambitious than the King. While Ruffulo was nominally an ally of Theovacar, he was reportedly no admirer. He was a man with a reputation of stern integrity and honesty, both in the Assembly of Lords and the Council of Merchants; in other words, a good man to win over to the Paratimer's side.

The Duke's estates were reportedly earning more than he was spending, and he only had one mistress, which was unusual for a noble in Grefftscharr-usually they had a dozen or more. How much gold is he going to ask for and why?

It was Kostran's idea to start lending money at a lesser rate than that of the local banking firms and Styphon's Great Banking House to needy nobles. He had been careful not to loan too much, between one and ten ounces of gold. The kind of money a Greffan noble would likely owe to a tradesman, such as a mercer or caterer. Their terms were fair, for Middle Kingdom lenders: interest a flat ten percent-term not to exceed one year-if you put up collateral, or twenty percent if you didn't. Furthermore, Kostran let the grapevine know that the House of Verkan was willing to forgive part of a loan in exchange for political or mercantile favors.

These loans not only undercut Styphon's local influence, but it also provided a source of useful intelligence since most of the nobility spent far more than they collected. After a few goblets of brandy and a small purse of gold, many of them were more than willing to talk his or Kostran's ears off.

Duke Ruffulo entered the room, his back straight as a ramrod and with eyes darting around the room as though he expected one of Styphon's fire-seed devils to materialize.

"I don't bite," Verkan said in an attempt to lighten the atmosphere.

Ruffulo shook his head. "I apologize, Trader Verkan. I appear to have forgotten my manners. I've heard so many things about the esteemed Trader Verkan in the past two winters, I wasn't sure what to expect. I am Duke Ruffulo and the Warden of Fireside."

Verkan stood up and bowed. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Your Grace. I hope I haven't disappointed you."

"No, not at all. I was expecting something much more ostentatious. Your office reminds me of my own study back in Fireside."