Of Coin and Cutthroats
Your name is Jove Strausberg, and you really wish your father would stop trying to kill your crush.
It would certainly leave your purse more full and your days far better spent if he would cease his stream of assassination attempts. It would also spare you the indignity of loitering outside one of Samaki's seedier dockside taverns, face cloaked beneath a hood as you nervously keep one hand on the dagger at your hip and the other on the pouch of lien beneath your robes.
Logically, you know no harm will come to you so long as Marco stands beside you, his aura of danger encouraging most of the city's denizens to keep their heads down and hurry urgently to wherever they are going. Yet you feel anxious despite yourself. In fact, thinking logically about this entire affair, you realize how ridiculous it is to be placing yourself at risk for the young lady who scarred you.
Scarred, not maimed. You had emphasized that particular distinction a great deal in order to persuade your father from his knee-jerk reaction of hiring mercenaries and bringing an army to claim Lady Skye's head, though the effort of arguing through the pain medication had made the room swirl around you and the very ground beneath your feet feel unsteady. Funnily enough, you recalled having much the same feeling in the brief moment before Lady Skye's sword had hit home. Along with the utterly unrelated thought, intermingled with the feeling of sheer terror, that she looked very attractive indeed when she was about to beat someone to a pulp. The resulting injury had left you unable to eat solids for a month.
Yet here you stand, in spite of all of that. Marco spies the pensive look on your face as you run one hand across your scar. "You gettin' cold feet, kid?" he asks, motioning towards your father's hall in the distance. "We could always call this off. I mean, after all, she
did cut your-" he stops as a trio of cloaked figures emerge from the crowd. "Too late." Jove replies. "Just make sure that it's them, and let me do the talking. Don't antagonize them."
Marco nods attentively, then swaggers forward, making sure the truncheon at his hip is clearly visible. "Hey you," he says, resting one hand on his weapon. "the fuck are you lookin' at?" It's all you can do not to start banging your head against the wall in frustration, but instead you step forward, holding Marco back with one hand. "Ignore him." you say, doing your best to sound mature and intimidating. "I believe we have business to discuss."
The apparent leader of the three steps forward. "That depends on if you've got the money." he says. You quickly pull a sheaf of lien from the satchel under your cloak and toss them to him. He scoops them up, carefully inspecting the cards, then gives you a nod. "What do you want?"
"There's plenty more where that came from." You say, "and all you have to do to get the rest of it is back out on a job you're planning to pull. It's come to my attention that you're planning to kill Lady Skye Ravenswood, under the orders of a very wealthy man. I am also aware that you are still on the fence about the contract, and are meeting this benefactor later today to finalize the details of the arrangement. I will pay you an extra 25 Lien, plus whatever your benefactor is offering to pay, in exchange for you to simply skip town and abandon any thought of killing Lady Skye." The three men glance at each other, and out of the corner of your eye you see Marco noticeably perk up.
"A good offer." The leader concedes. "But our benefactor has also offered us whatever loot we claim from Lady Skye's chambers... And her corpse, of course. That may well be worth well more than your lien." To your surprise, you have an answer almost immediately. "Lady Skye wears no jewelry." you reply. "I have never seen her wear so much as a plain gold ring, or a necklace, or even a pair of earrings. Nor is she one for finery or expensive silks. The only items of value I have seen her wear consistently are her swords, which she wields with great skill, as I can personally attest. You would find a fight with her extremely costly, to say the least, with little material gain for your effort."
This gives the assassins pause. They commiserate for a moment. Once more, the leader turns to you. "And what is to stop us from taking your money and then killing Lady Skye anyway?" He asks. You do your best to reply nonchalantly, though your heart skips a beat at his words. "Well, you would have to find a way to sneak past a well-drilled levy and kill an extraordinarily skilled combatant in her own castle without being caught by the guards. Then you would have to evade the wrath of Yequerta, including Donovan Ravenswood, his personal retinue, and his Huntsmen and Huntresses, and then flee Menagerie through one of a limited number of ports with only a slim chance of evading death or capture. And, uh, should you back down on our agreement..." At this you glance towards Marco in a mute appeal for help. Creative threats are not your forte. Fortunately, he catches on fast.
"If you go back on your word, I will track all three of you down, snap your legs like twigs, drag you into the street and rip your organs out through your mouth with my bare hands. We clear?" At this, his aura flares slightly, and the three assassins glance nervously at each other. '
Please, please accept' You pray, waiting with your heart in your throat until the leader gives you a nod. "Done." He says, and a great weight lifts from your shoulders as you toss him the satchel. He opens it, carefully counts the lien, and without another word disappears into the crowd. Marco lets out a breath. "Shit, Jove, that was a lot of money."
"I can afford it." You reply, stepping out onto the street. "All of this money is from my own personal investments. I can spend it how I wish, and besides, it's best to keep father from doing something rash. Lady Skye doesn't deserve death, all she did was-" "Grow furious to the point of violence over a misunderstanding and then permanently scar you?" Marco interjects. "We both know you've got a dog in this fight, kid. You even know what jewelry she wears, for the Maidens' sake." You shoot him a glare, but it only makes the insufferable grin on his face widen. "Ah, young love."
"Just keep your mouth shut." you sigh. "And keep your eyes open for a bookseller. I hear there's a few copies of "
Lives of the Great Merchants" floating around. Now that Skye will live to see another day, I can find the time to get some reading done."
Finally vocalizing the thought makes butterflies dance in your stomach. You just
saved Skye's life. Your satisfied smile barely even falters when Marco ruffles your hair and calls you a nerd.
Ulric is livid when you return. "How was the meeting, father?" You ask, doing your best to seem innocent. Marco makes a show of whistling nonchalantly.
"There was no meeting." He replies, sour-faced. "They seem to have left Samaki altogether. A waste of my time!" A dangerous gleam comes into his eyes. "But don't worry. I've found someone else, a cook in Ravenswood Keep who feels overworked and underpaid. Apparently Miss Skye has a certain fondness for lemon tarts. I'm in the process of ensuring she slips some
special ingredients into her next batch."
You barely manage to suppress a groan as you begin your usual argument and mentally tally the costs.
'This had better be worth it.' You think, mourning the thought of
"Merchant Princes" slipping through your hands once again.
Yet some part of you, deep down, is quite convinced that despite the costs and the headaches and the sleepless nights, Skye really is worth every minute and every lien.
Utterly illogical, really.