Rise of a Merchant Prince

Jacoby got to his feet. “What kind of waiter are you?”

 

 

“The former-soldier kind. I tell you so you don’t think about sending these two buffoons with some friends tonight to ‘teach me a lesson.’ Then I’d be forced to kill them. And then I’d have to explain to the city watch why you were trying to teach me a lesson.

 

“Now, I suggest you get back to your office and get another wagon and team and get this cargo out of here. The owner of this building might want to charge you rent if he finds you warehousing your goods here.”

 

Jacoby signaled to his guards to go on outside and, after they had left, followed them to the door. He paused and regarded Roo over his shoulder before leaving. From outside the door he said “The wagon?”

 

Roo said, “Do you see a wagon anywhere around here?” Jacoby said nothing for a long moment, then spoke. “You’ve made an enemy, Mr. Avery.”

 

Roo said, “You won’t be my first, Jacoby. Now get out of here before I get irritated with you, and thank Ruthia”—he invoked the Goddess of Luck—“that someone hasn’t taken all your cargo and vanished with it.”

 

After Jacoby left, Roo shook his head. “Some people. He didn’t even say thank you.”

 

Returning to the door, he closed it and crossed the street. McKeller was waiting for him and said, “You were gone a long time.” It wasn’t a question.

 

Roo said, “Mr. Jacoby seemed to think some of his cargo was missing and was ready to claim Barret’s was responsible for the loss. I carefully accounted for every item on the manifest and he was satisfied when he left.”

 

If McKeller wasn’t completely convinced, he seemed ready to accept the lie at face value. With a nod of his head, he indicated Roo should return to his duties. Roo moved back toward the kitchen and found Jason standing next to the door. “You taking a break this hour?”

 

Jason nodded.

 

“Do me a favor if you’ve a mind to: go to the hiring hall and see if my cousin Duncan is still in town.” After the destruction of the wagons of wine, Duncan had decided Roo’s get-rich-quick plan was over and was seeking guard duty on a caravan heading eastward.

 

“If he is?” asked Jason.

 

“Tell him we’re back in business.”

 

If Jacoby had revenge on his mind for Roo, he didn’t attempt to extract it quickly. The night passed with Roo sleeping lightly in the loft he rented above the kitchen at Barret’s. Duncan had returned with Jason, complaining that he had been about to leave on a large caravan heading to Kesh, and was sleeping next to his cousin.

 

Roo suspected it was a lie, as Duncan was inclined to aggrandize his own discomfort and diminish others’, but he didn’t mind. He knew that the silk he had hidden in the building was worth a great deal more than he had first thought. Otherwise why would Jacoby have been so desperate to regain it? So having Duncan around was important; Roo knew he needed someone reliable to guard his back as he entered into the world of commerce.

 

The night passed slowly as Roo lay awake making and discarding plan after plan. He knew that the silk would be his recovery from the disaster of his wine venture, and that while sound in theory, the manner in which he had undertaken to build up his wine trade revealed to anyone who cared to look just how unpracticed Roo was in matters of business.

 

As dawn approached, Roo rose and dressed. He went out into the predawn morning, listening to the sounds of the city. A village boy from a small community in the mountains, he found the strange sounds of Krondor exhilarating: the squawk of the gulls flying in from the harbor, the creaking of wagon wheels moving over the cobbles of the street as bakers, dairymen, and fruit sellers brought their wares into the city. The occasional craftsman, moving cautiously through the gloom of the streets on his way to work, passed by, but otherwise the street was abandoned as Roo moved across to the old building. He had felt a strange attraction to the once-rich domicile from the first moment he had seen it. He had visions of himself standing at the large windows on the second floor, looking down upon the busy intersection that stood between the home and Barret’s. Somehow that house had become a symbol for Roo, a concrete goal that would show the world he had become a man of importance and means.

 

He entered the dark house and looked around. The grey light that came in the doorway barely outlined the stairway under which he had stored the silk. He suddenly wondered at the upper room and moved up the stairway.

 

He paused as he reached the top of the stairs, as they bent to the right to form a balcony overlooking the entryway. He could see the shadowy form of the chandelier and wondered what it would look like with the candles ablaze.

 

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