Stan Nicholls - Quicksilver Zenith

Those who had never seen Zahgadiah Darrok before, but knew his reputation, might have expected an individual wracked by sloth and debauchery. They didn’t anticipate someone looking as fit as an athlete. Nor did they count on him being handsome; the possessor of a finely chiselled face, adorned with a neat blond goatee and dominated by quick, china-blue eyes.

The only jarring note came when he spoke. A brisk order to his escort, to give up their arms, revealed a gravel voice that seemed out of keeping with his appearance. It had an inflection more often associated with an habitual pipe smoker or drinker of coarse liquor.

As Darrok’s bodyguards laid down their weapons, Karr made introductions. Then the attendants withdrew, but stayed watchful from a distance. Darrok guided his floating dish to the table and descended to hover at sitting height.

‘Can we offer you refreshments?’ Karr asked, indicating stone-bottled wine and sweetmeat platters.

‘I don’t believe in tainting business with frivolity,’ Darrok grated.

‘As you please.’

‘I suggest we get straight to the matter of the final payment.’

‘That’s what we’re here for.’

‘You can get the money?’

‘Of course.’

‘In gold?’

‘In gold, yes.’

‘And you can deliver it, as I specified?’

‘We can meet all your requirements. But naturally we need to be sure you can satisfy ours.’

Darrok showed a flash of annoyance. ‘You had my word.’

‘We’re not trying to offend you. But it’s vital you understand the necessity of making the handover as smooth and as secret as possible.’

‘I could ask why you feel the need to be so clandestine if your aims are lawful.’

‘I’m sure we all have private matters we’d prefer to keep that way,’ Karr said. ‘In fact, I should remind you that a slice of the not inconsiderable price we’re paying is supposed to ensure confidentiality.’

‘And you’ll get it. My guarantee.’

‘I’d like your bond on another matter, too.’

‘Oh?’

‘As you know, some of our people will be arriving on the island soon as pathfinders. We have to be able to count on you co-operating with them.’

‘We’ve agreed all this, Karr.’

‘It’s as well to underline its importance.’

‘Yes, yes, we’ll do as you ask. Now about the gold –’

‘It would save us a lot of trouble,’ Disgleirio suggested, ‘if payment could be made here on the mainland.’

‘Now who doesn’t understand the agreement? The deal was that the balance of the money went to the island for onward movement.’

‘So we take the risks and you reap the benefit.’

Darrok shrugged. ‘It’s a sellers’ market.’

‘We’ll keep our end of the bargain,’ Karr promised. ‘You keep yours and we can have the shipment there in a matter of weeks.’

‘You’d do well to send it with as much protection as you can muster.’

‘Naturally we’ll take precautions.’

‘You might need a little more in the way of precautions than you’re contemplating.’

Disgleirio regarded him suspiciously. ‘Why?’

‘There’s a certain amount of … unrest in my home waters.’

‘What kind of unrest?’

‘We have a few problems with privateers.’

‘You mean pirates ?’ Kutch blurted out.

‘I’m not in the habit of answering questions from a child.’

‘Then try answering a man,’ Caldason told him, his manner threatening.

Darrok adopted a dismissive tone. ‘I’m not accustomed to explaining myself to the hired help either.’

The Qalochian rose, toppling his chair. Then Serrah was on her feet. Darrok’s bodyguards began to move in.

‘Enough!’ Karr thundered. ‘We’re here to talk, not to fight. Now calm down. All of you.’

There was a frozen moment, each side eyeing the other, fists balled, muscles tensed.

Karr nodded at his people. ‘Sit.’

Darrok waved away his bodyguards.

Caldason righted his chair and Serrah sank back into hers. Both moved reluctantly, and kept their gazes on the escort.

‘So, you have trouble with pirates,’ Karr recapped.

‘I think they prefer to be called merchant adventurers,’ Darrok corrected.

‘To hell with what they call themselves; why didn’t you tell us before?’

‘I’m telling you now.’

‘How big a problem is it?’ Disgleirio wanted to know.

‘Until recently it was manageable; no more than a minor irritation. But that’s changed.’

‘Why?’

‘Traditionally, the privateers were disorganised. As ready to fight amongst themselves as to plunder travellers that came their way. Now they’ve got together and formed an alliance.’

‘That wouldn’t have happened without a leader of some sort,’ Caldason reasoned. ‘Who rallied them?’

‘You’re more perceptive than you look. Have you heard of a man called Kingdom Vance?’

Serrah mouthed, ‘Oh, shit.’

‘I take it you have,’ Darrok said.

Karr scowled at him. ‘Who hasn’t? Given that he’s the most infamous, cold-blooded freebooter ever to cut a throat. And you’re telling us he’s organised this alliance?’

Darrok nodded.

‘He must have held out a prize tempting enough to bring them together,’ Caldason decided. ‘A prospect bigger than their differences.’

‘That he did. He offered them something they’ve wanted for a long time.’ Darrok paused and scanned his hosts’ faces. He saw that one or two had already guessed. ‘A land base. A country they can call their own.’

‘They want the island,’ Disgleirio whispered, realisation dawning. ‘You bastard, Darrok! This borders on treachery. What are you after? More money? Is that it?’ He was on his feet.

‘There’s no deceit on my part.’ Darrok gestured at his restive bodyguards, checking them. ‘All I’m asking for is the final payment.’

‘After dropping this on us? Forget it.’

‘I think you’ll find the pact we have stipulates no full payment, no deal. And I get to keep what’s already been paid.’

Disgleirio swung to Karr, red with anger. ‘You agreed to this?’

Before the patrician could speak, Darrok answered. ‘There isn’t exactly an abundance of islands for sale. Like I said, it’s a sellers’ market. Take it or leave it.’

‘Karr?’ Disgleirio pressed.

‘He’s right. We’re not in a position to dictate terms.’

It was Serrah who broke the ensuing silence, and in contrast to Disgleirio’s outrage, she seemed almost amused. ‘Well, you could cut the tension in this room with a knife,’ she said. Glancing at the surrendered weapons, she added, ‘Anybody like to try?’

Karr stood, signalling for calm. ‘All right. Everybody. Let’s keep things civil. We can sort this out.’

‘Always the conciliator, eh. Patrician?’ Serrah gave him a smile that fleetingly looked half demented.

‘He’s right,’ Darrok intervened. ‘You might have rivals for the island. So what? They’re small in number compared to you, judging by the set-up you have here. You can deal with it.’

‘You make it sound trivial,’ Disgleirio remarked, still seething.

‘No, I make it sound like it isn’t my problem. My only concern’s spending the money you’ll be giving me.’

‘So you can buy more toys like that?’ He jabbed a thumb at the hovering dish.

Darrok made it rise, lifting him to the height of a man standing. ‘This is more in the way of a necessity than a luxury.’ He rapped his knuckle against one of his legs, then the other. The hollow ring attested to their being artificial. ‘Kingdom Vance,’ he explained starkly. ‘That’s why it’s not my problem.’