Authors: Alex Albrinck
The guards shook his hand and waved him through the gate. Will walked along, guided by the faint harp-like sound of Eva’s nascent Energy.
“What was that all about?” Eva asked, as he rejoined them. The wagons circled around, enabling the Traders to plan their strategy. They had mentioned this to Will the night before. Since they never went to the same town twice in succession, they were uncertain of the method of trade available to them or if things had changed since their last visit. Would they find an open market where they’d be able to park their wagons? Would they need to visit the individual shops to buy and sell goods and supplies? Perhaps there were other systems in place. They would typically park their wagons together, have three members of the team stand guard — Gerald, the former soldier, always oversaw this part of each mission — while two others would travel into the heart of the city to ascertain their best next steps.
Once the Traders had parked their wagons and gathered, Will explained. “They’ve had people pose as Traders cover their wagons, purportedly filled with goods for trade, which were actually filled with armed men. They enter the community, and while the men driving the wagons pretended to trade, the others would assault citizens and steal coins, jewelry, and other valuables. Our large caravan of covered wagons made them nervous; I wasn’t sure why but thought it would be wise to make sure we didn’t seem like a threat. I talked to the guards now and they told me what’s been happening. Neither of those men wanted to be responsible for another Trojan Horse situation.”
“What’s a Trojan horse?” Aldus asked. “Is that a specific breed?”
“No,” Matilda replied, laughing. “It’s a story of myth. The great, walled city of Troy could not be defeated, and as such their enemies offered a giant statue of a horse as a sign of peace. Once inside the walls, soldiers hidden within the statue emerged and slaughtered everyone.”
Gerald stroked his beard. “Brilliant plan.”
Eleanor gasped. “Horrible. Simply horrible.”
Matilda shrugged. “It’s just a story. But I can see why they’d be nervous about unfamiliar people showing up in large groups if that’s been happening.” She nodded at Will. “That was a good idea, to talk to them and find out why they felt they needed to inspect our wagons. I’ve never seen that done before.”
Eva and Will were nominated to explore the town. They walked around, observing. There was a large central market area of the town where local merchants were setting up shop. Will was able to sense that there was no cost to doing so, though Eva seemed interested in asking one of the merchants about the propriety. “Don’t ask,” Will advised. “They’ll all tell you that a large fee is required, and one of their cohorts will collect the tax. In reality, all it will do is discourage us from setting up all of our wagons at a time.” They located a pub near the central market area where they’d be able to eat at midday. They also located an inn, with the curious name of the Dented Sayler, where they’d be able to find lodging for the evening. After prepaying for two large rooms — one for the men and one for the women — and ensuring they could have their horses cared for during the day, Will and Eva returned to their companions, and the wagons were hauled into the market and backed into place. The horses were trotted off to the inn, where the innkeeper, a jovial man named Nicholas, ushered them into stalls and fed them. Will tipped the man an extra gold coin, and could sense the astonishment at his generosity.
The town sprang to life a short time later. Will, though uncomfortable with forcing people to buy and sell, used his Empathy “push” skills to lessen the reluctance the locals had in terms of trading with strangers. While he didn’t care to use his skills to guarantee that they’d get the absolute best deal all the time, he did want to make sure that the locals weren’t afraid to talk to them, especially after the recent attacks.. He moved from wagon to wagon, talking with the local merchants and buyers using the negotiating and people-reading skills he’d developed over his fifteen years of business transactions, and through the advanced classes on reading body language and eye movement he’d taken. He murmured such ideas to his friends, and watched as they each rapidly assimilated those skills and improved their trading success. The large volume of quality swords, daggers, knives, and shields were in incredibly high demand due to the recent armed thefts, and they sold out quickly. The tapestries, garments, fabrics, and beer kegs were quickly gone as well; the items were clearly of a high quality, and the townsfolk found them to be a good bargain. As per custom, the group also sold two of the five wagons, as they’d need less space to haul back the raw materials they’d buy the next day before embarking on their journey home.
By midday, they’d sold all of their wares; Will could sense the thrill of his fellow Traders at the speed with which they’d completed the process. Though he did not manage a wagon and serve as a direct Trader, Will had become a true general Merchant, smoothing the entire process of selling for his friends, a service each received with gratitude. The other Traders were thrilled with the techniques Will had taught them, but he recognized that even without his help, the team had genuine skill. Eva in particular had an innate gift for negotiation, even without his lessons or her Energy. She’d started using her Energy to improve her reads of people, and used Will’s techniques as well, all to great effect. Will knew, because of his Telepathic skills, that they’d extracted nearly the maximum possible profit from their trades, and wondered if that news would lessen their eagerness to develop the “magical” abilities Arthur was preaching to them.
The team’s emotions as they reconvened were upbeat. Matilda, an attractive and stately young woman, had been a popular visit of those men looking to buy; she thrilled over the attention she’d gotten. “Two of them proposed marriage,” she whispered to Eva. “Was that appropriate?” Will barely stifled a laugh. Arthur had the community so unused to the concept of marriage already that she couldn’t fathom something like that happening. At least the men proposing to Matilda were very nearly her age, rather than thirty years her senior.
Gerald, the solider, had spoken to a number of the men purchasing the swords, daggers, and knives, and had asked about local preferences on blade type, level of decoration, and preferred lengths. “I can use this information when we return to our village to make sure our crafts meet current preferences,” he explained to Will, who recognized this as a basic form of market research. Gerald was thrilled that his success in trading the weaponry was so dominant that buyers were asking
him
for guidance on the best type of weapon to purchase. Gerald liked the sense of power such questions provided him.
Eleanor was quite skittish; the news of the random, violent attacks sounded so nearly like the one that had left her widowed, childless, and impoverished that she very nearly elected to spend the day locked in the women’s room at the inn. But she recovered, and did a fine job working with Matilda to sell the collection of quality fabrics and clothing the village had produced. Will sensed that he made her nervous; she wondered how he learned his techniques for understanding people, and worried that Will, perhaps, might be a Trojan horse himself for their village. She was unable to hide the fact that she hovered more closely by her coin purse when Will joined her and Matilda throughout the day. Will elected not to feel offended.
Aldus had tremendous success selling the woodcrafts and beer. The wood was of a different grain than this town had seen before, and the locals were accustomed to wine rather than beer; the novelty of these products helped drive sales. “Make sure to tell them not to drink beer and wine the same day, or at least not at the same meal,” Will whispered. “They won’t like you at all if they do.”
The team retired to the inn, and after washing the dirt and dust from their hands and faces, joined the other guests of the inn for dinner, seating themselves at a separate table. Nicholas, the innkeeper, remembered the generous fee Will had paid earlier that day, and he ensured that the cook and serving girls kept the best of everything coming their way. The table was soon enjoying the type of revelry Will had seldom seen since the night his life had changed and his world had turned upside down.
He’d felt at home in the future in a sense; people were cordial to him, and politely applauded his successes. His son, Fil, had treated Will poorly for the purpose of encouraging Will to want to leave and travel to the distant past to fulfill his destiny. Beyond that he’d felt welcome there, more than he’d ever expected to feel again after believing his wife and son murdered. Yet though it felt like a home, it did so more in the sense of visiting extended family once every few years. Will still felt a sense of isolation, as if he’d never truly fit in. Intentional or not, it wasn’t what he’d come to expect in the household he and Hope had built.
Yet here, with these Traders, he did get that sense. He’d known them less than a week, and yet there was a sense of true bonding. Eva was already someone he considered a friend and trusted confidant; other than the skittish Eleanor, the other Traders were people he admired and enjoyed spending time with. Most notably, his wife-to-be in the distant future lived here as well, though as a girl in her mid-teens and under the thumb of a tyrannical and abusive father. Will knew he
could
kill the man, and he wanted to do so; he also knew his duty was to preserve the future as already written, and that future said the man would live another twelve centuries at least. He needed to free her of the man’s clutches, and the men and women with him here tonight were of a similar mind on the subject, for they loved the redheaded girl named Elizabeth. He was confident that the people sharing a meal, a drink, and a laugh with him that night would, with no nudging necessary, join him in the effort to free the girl from her captivity, and that increased his sense of bonding and friendship.
For the first time in what seemed like a thousand years, Will felt that he was truly home.
VIII
Invasion
The Traders stayed up late into the night, enjoying the tales told by Nicholas, the innkeeper. Most of the stories revolved around local folklore, well-known among the residents, and thus the man rarely had much of an audience. They listened with rapt attention, alternately laughing and gasping in horror, as the stories unfolded. He was a gifted storyteller, and Will found himself enthralled.
As the stories ended, the team made inquiries about the recent thefts described by the guards at the gate. “We were stopped entering the city,” Eva explained, “and were told that the thieves entered by hiding their numbers and weapons inside wagons they claimed held goods for trade.” Nicholas confirmed this. The thieves would typically arrive in the early afternoon, trade in a clumsy manner until nightfall, and then corner merchants heading home with their remaining goods and money earned on the day. The men dressed in darker clothing and were difficult to see in the twilight, and the victims could never see where the men ran after committing the crimes. They could not identify the men with any certainty, for even the guards at the gate would not recognize them. “If they stopped you when you entered the city, it’s likely that your manner of travel made the guards think you were repeating the same process,” Nicholas explained.
The Traders finally retired for the evening, enjoying the soft beds after spending the two previous nights sleeping on the rocky ground. They were all soon fast asleep.
Will woke even before he heard the shouting. Something was very wrong. He jumped to his feet, opened the door, and headed to the main room of the inn. He found Nicholas there, hovering over two men who appeared to be injured. As Will approached, he could see noticeable lumps on both heads, and blood was staining their clothing. Nicholas, who had been seeking cloths and water, saw Will and stopped. “I hope we didn’t wake you, sir.”
Will shook his head. “What happened?”
“The hidden thieves. They must have been here yesterday. We didn’t see them. These men were jumped from behind on their way home from the pub. Relieved of all of the coins they made earlier in the day.”
“How long ago were they attacked?” As he asked the question, Will had an inspiration, and ordered his healing nanos to split up and move into the two men and help cure their injuries. He could sense the nanos’ departure; with luck, they’d accelerate the healing process even with only half the usual number working in each man.
“They arrived here about fifteen minutes ago; I’d guess they were attacked in the past half hour.”
Will nodded, and walked to the door. “Hey!” Nicholas shouted after him. “Where are you going? Didn’t you hear me? These men were attacked not long ago!”
“I know,” Will said. “It means their attackers are still nearby.” He walked out the door, to the incredulous stare of the innkeeper.
Will sent out a blast of Energy, seeking out strong emotion. Most people were asleep, and any emotions they might experience due to dreams were heavily muted. He sensed two men, perhaps a quarter mile away, and the emotion was one of violence and greed, the thoughts of the large number of coins they’d stolen.
Gotcha,
Will thought. He teleported to the spot.
He appeared behind the two men just as the thieves were joined by a third man, one Will recognized as a rather unskilled trader he’d transacted with earlier that day. He realized as he emerged from the teleportation that he probably should have avoided such an act. Thankfully, the men didn’t see him appear in the darkness. Will used his push-Empathy skills, and the three men were suddenly quite aware that they were being followed, and were frightened about what might happen to them. They turned, skittish, and found a single man behind them, armed with… nothing.