The Complete Liveship Traders Trilogy: Ship of Magic, The Mad Ship, Ship of Destiny. Robin Hobb
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warehouse, those same kegs could be held and sold off a few at a time, increasing their rarity and thus their price. Moreover, a partner ashore would not sell all those kegs in Divvytown. No. Why, with a small ship at his disposal, he could ply the surrounding islands and settlements as well, cultivating a market for you. And once or twice a year, that ship could make a trip to say, Bingtown or Jamaillia itself, there to sell off the very finest pickings of your year’s taking to merchants more than able to pay the best prices.’
Sorcor was looking a bit too impressed. Kennit resisted the urge to nudge him with his boot; he would only have looked startled and puzzled as well. Instead Kennit leaned back in his uncomfortable chair as if relaxing. ‘Simple economics,’ he announced casually. ‘Your suggestions are far from unique, Sincure Faldin.’
Faldin nodded, not at all flustered by this. ‘Many great ideas are not unique. They only become unique when the men who have the wherewithal actually to implement them come together.’ He paused, weighing the wisdom of his next words. ‘It is gossiped about Divvytown that you have ambitions. Ambitions, I might add, that are far from unique. You would rise to power amongst us. Some say the word “king” and smile in their beards. I do not. I have not proffered the word “king” to you at all in my business offer. And yet, if we applied ourselves, one might rise to that much power and wealth and authority. With or without the word “king” attached to one. Words such as that tend to unsettle folks. But I trust it is not the word you aspire to, but the state of being.’
Sincure Faldin leaned back, his words spoken. Sorcor’s eyes leapt from Faldin to Kennit. His glance was wide, full of wonder. It is one thing to hear one’s captain speak of a desire for power. It was entirely another to find that a respected merchant might take such words seriously.
Kennit moistened his lips. He glanced down to find his amulet grinning at him. The wicked little face winked up at him, then folded its lips tightly as if enjoining him to silence. It was all Kennit could do to keep from staring at it. He found he had sat up straight. Resolutely he stilled his own features and looked away from the wizardwood charm. He glanced up at Faldin. ‘What you propose goes far beyond merely doing business together. Partner, you have said, more than once. Partner, dear Sincure Faldin, is a word that my first mate and I hold in especial regard. So far, we have extended it only to each other. We two know the full depth of that word. Partner. Money alone does not buy it.’ He hoped that Sorcor would not miss that reminder of mutual loyalty. Faldin was looking a bit alarmed now. Kennit smiled at him. ‘However. We are still listening,’ he pointed out to Faldin. Once more he leaned back in his chair.
The merchant took a deep breath. He glanced from one man to another, as if assessing them. ‘I see what you do, sirs. You gather not only wealth, but influence. The loyalty of men and the power of ships are behind that loyalty. But what I have to offer you is something not as easily gathered. Something that only time can establish.’ He paused for emphasis. ‘Respectability.’
Sorcor shot Kennit a puzzled glance. Kennit made a tiny motion of his hand. Hold, the hand motion told him. Stand as you are. ‘Respectability?’ Kennit put an edge of mockery on the word.
Faldin swallowed then plunged on. ‘To gain what you want, sir, you must offer folk assurances. Nothing steadies a community’s regard for a man like respectability. If I might be so bold as to point out, you have no real ties here. No houses, no lands, no wives and families, no blood-ties to those who make up this town. At one time, those things were not important. What were we, what were any of us, except pariahs and outcasts, runaway slaves, petty criminals fleeing justice, debtors and rebels and vagabonds?’ He waited for their grudging nods. ‘But that, Captain Kennit and Sincure Sorcor, was a generation or two ago.’ Excitement was building in his voice. ‘I am sure, sirs, that this is what you have seen as clearly as I have seen myself. Times are changing us. I myself have been here a score of years. My wife was born in this town, as were my children. If a proper society is to rise from the mud and shanties here, well, we will be its cornerstones. We and others like us, and those who have joined our families.’
If there had been some sort of a signal, it had escaped Kennit. But the timing was too exquisite to be coincidental. Sincura Faldin and two young women entered the room bearing trays of fruit and bread and smoked meats and cheese. Faldin’s features in feminine were plainly marked on the two girls. His daughters. His bargaining chips on the board, the passcards to respectability. They were not Divvytown sluts. Neither dared to look at Kennit, but one sent Sorcor a shy smile and a glance from beneath lowered lashes. They were, Kennit surmised, probably even virgins, never allowed to walk on the streets of Divvytown unless Mama’s watchful eyes were upon them. Nor were they bad-looking. Durja still spoke in their pale skin and honey hair, but their eyes were almond-shaped and hazel. Both were plump as ripe fruit, their bared arms round and white. They set out food and drink for each man and for their mama. Sorcor had lowered his eyes to his plate, but was sucking speculatively on his lower lip. He suddenly lifted his glance and boldly stared at one of the sisters. A blush raced up her cheeks at his glance. She did not meet his eyes, but she did not turn aside from his stare either. The younger girl could have been no more than fifteen, her sister at most seventeen. Smooth and unscarred they were, a man’s transport into a gentle world where women were soft and quiet and saw willingly to their husbands’ needs. A world many men probably dreamed about, Kennit thought, and Sorcor was most likely one of them. What other prize could be farther from the grasp of the scarred and tattooed pirate than the willing embrace of a pale virgin? That which was most unattainable was always most desirable.
Faldin pretended not to notice the pirate’s ogling of his daughter. Instead he exclaimed, ‘Ah, refreshment. Let us take a moment from our business. Gentlemen, I welcome you to the hospitality of my home. I believe you’ve met Sincura Faldin. These two are my daughters, Alyssum and Lily.’ Each girl nodded her head in turn, then took her place between their mother and father.
And these two, Kennit reflected, were but the first offer from Divvytown. Not necessarily the best. Nor did this ‘respectability’ have to come from Divvytown. There were other pirate towns on other islands, and merchants more wealthy than Faldin. There was no need to be hasty in choosing. No need at all.
The sun had tracked much of the sky before Kennit and Sorcor emerged from Sincure Faldin’s premises. Kennit had disposed of his cargo profitably; more, he had done so without fully committing himself to a permanent alliance with Faldin. After his daughters and lady had left the room, Kennit had taken the tack that while the value of a business association with Faldin could not be doubted, no one could be so heartless as to hasten into any other aspects of such an ‘alliance’. He had left Faldin with the dubious security of knowing that he would be allowed to show his goodwill by offering the first bid on any goods the Marietta brought into Divvytown. The man was merchant enough to know it was a poor offer, and wise enough to know it was the best he would get at this time. So he smiled stiffly and accepted it.
‘I could almost see him ciphering the numbers on the back of his tongue. How much would he have to overpay us for our next three cargoes to assure us of his goodwill?’ Kennit offered the jest wryly to Sorcor.
‘The younger one… was she Alyssum, or Lily?’ Sorcor asked cautiously.
‘Don’t worry about it,’ Kennit suggested callously. ‘I am sure that if you don’t fancy her name, Faldin will allow you to change it. Here.’ He handed Sorcor the tally-sticks they had negotiated so easily. ‘I’ll trust these to you. Don’t let them deliver less coin than was promised before you allow him to unload. You’ll take the ship’s watch tonight?’
‘Of course,’ the burly pirate replied distractedly.
Kennit did not know whether to frown or smile. So easily could the man be bought with the offer of unsullied flesh. Kennit scratched his chin. He watched Sorcor turn toward the docks and swagger off into the gathering autumn twilight. He gave his head a minute shake. ‘Whores,’ he congratulated himself quietly. ‘Whores make it all so much simpler.’ A wind had come up. Winter was no further away than a new moon, or a few days’ sail to the north. ‘I’ve never cared for the cold,’ he said softly to himself.
‘No one does,’ a small voice commiserated.