“So you won’t be loading brandy in secret.” Doña Sofia clapped her hands together. “As far as anyone knows, you’ll be loading beer in the open!”
“Exactly, my lady. Even a large export of beer won’t be anywhere near as suspicious as a movement of the unaged brandy. It’ll be looked on as a commercial coup; we’ll be the first to dodge the interdict on Emberlain-flagged vessels. We’ll bring in a pile of supplies for the coming siege and a fine apparent profit for ourselves. Then, once we’ve got all the brandy loaded, we’ll put out to sea, bringing sixty or seventy bel Auster family and employees to form the nucleus of our new business operations in Camorr. Discovery after that will be immaterial.”
“All of this to be thrown together on short notice.” Don Lorenzo was deep in thought. “Fifteen thousand crowns, I’d say. Perhaps twenty.”
“I concur, my lord. Count on an additional five thousand or so, for bribes and other arrangements.” Locke shrugged. “Certain men are going to have to look the other way for us to do our job when we reach Emberlain, warehouse ruse or no.”
“Twenty-five thousand crowns, then. Damn.” Lorenzo downed the last of the brandy in his glass, set it down, and folded his hands together on the table before him. “You’re asking me for more than half of my fortune. I like you, Lukas, but now it’s time to discuss the other side of the proposal.”
“Of course.” Lukas stopped to offer the don another dash of the counterfeit “unaged”; the don began to wave him off, but his taste buds prevailed over his better judgment, and he held out his glass. Doña Sofia did so as well, and Jean hurried over to pass her glass between her and Locke. When he’d served the Salvaras, Locke poured a companionably large amount into his own snifter. “First, you have to understand what the House of bel Auster is and is not offering.
“You will never have the Austershalin Process. It will continue to be passed down, verbally, and strictly within the House. We can offer you no properties as collateral or in payment; we expect to forfeit them upon fleeing Emberlain. Resecuring the vineyards at a future date is our own problem.
“Any effort on your part to pry into the Austershalin Process, to suborn any bel Auster men or women, will be regarded as an absolute breach of trust.” Locke sipped brandy. “I have no idea what specific penalties we could levy to express our displeasure, but it would be fully expressed. I am instructed to be entirely clear on this point.”
“And so you are.” Doña Sofia placed one hand on her husband’s left shoulder. “But these limitations are not yet an offer.”
“Forgive me, gracious Doña Sofia, for speaking to you like this. But you must understand-this is the most important thing the House of bel Auster has ever contemplated. Grau and I hold the future of our combine in our rather vulnerable hands. At this moment, I can’t speak to you just as your luncheon guest Lukas Fehrwight. I am the House of bel Auster. You have to understand that some things are not on the table, not even by the most remote implication.”
The Salvaras nodded as one, Sofia just a bit more slowly than Lorenzo.
“Now. Consider the situation. War is coming to Emberlain. Our vineyards and our properties are as good as lost. And without those vineyards, there will be no Austershalin actually produced for only the Marrows know how long. Ten years? A generation? Even when we have the vineyards back, the soil will need years to recover. This is the way it has been, three times before. For many, many years to come, the only new Austershalin available is going to come from whatever portion of those six thousand casks we can move out of Emberlain, like thieves in the night. Imagine the demand. The price escalation.”
The don’s lips moved unconsciously as he calculated; Doña Sofia stared off into the distance, her brow furrowed. Austershalin brandy was the finest and most sought-after liquor known; even the alchemical wines of Tal Verrar, in a hundred bewitching varieties, were not as expensive. A single half-gallon bottle of the youngest available Austershalin was thirty full crowns at retail; the price went up sharply with age. With a surprise shortage, a fixed supply, and no new crop of Austershalin grapes in sight?
“Fuck damn,” said Conté, totally unable to help himself when the sums involved vanished over his mental horizon. “Beg pardon, Doña Sofia.”
“You should.” She drained her snifter in one quick unladylike gulp.
“Your calculations are off. This merits a triple fuckdamn at least.”
“The House of bel Auster,” Locke continued, “wishes to establish a partnership with you, based in Camorr, to store and market Austershalin brandy during our…interregnum. In exchange for your assistance in transporting it from Emberlain in our moment of extreme need, we are prepared to offer you fifty percent of the proceeds from the sale of anything you transport for us. Again, consider the situation, and the price of Austershalin during a shortage. You could recoup your initial investment ten times over in the first year. Give us five years, or ten…”
“Yes.” Don Lorenzo fiddled with his optics. “But Lukas, somehow, sitting here discussing the possible destruction of your House and a move to a city half a thousand miles to the south, you don’t sound…entirely displeased.”
Locke used a particularly endearing wry smile he’d once practiced before a mirror-glass for weeks. “When my masters grasped the essence of their current situation, some of them suggested we should have engineered an artificial shortage years ago. As it is, we are determined that we can turn a painful setback into a glorious return. Those six thousand casks, sold at shortage prices over a number of years…We could return to Emberlain with a fortune that eclipses everything we’d be leaving behind. And as for your own situation…”
“We’re not talking about hundreds of thousands of crowns.” Doña Sofia returned from her thoughtful trance. “We’re talking about millions. Even split between us.”
“It would be foolish to presume too much, but yes-there is the possibility that the sums involved could reach such figures. My masters are also prepared to grant one final compensation, upon our successful return to Emberlain and the restoration of the Austershalin vineyards. We offer your family a permanent stake in all bel Auster operations thereafter; certainly nothing close to a controlling interest, but something respectable. A ten to fifteen percent share. You would be the first and, we hope, the only foreigners ever offered such an interest.”
There was a brief pause. “That’s…a very attractive offer,” Don Salvara said at last. “And to think all this was going to fall into Jacobo’s lap simply by default. By the gods, Lukas, if we ever cross paths with those thieves again, I’m going to thank them for arranging our introduction.”
“Well,” Locke chuckled, “I for my part can let bygones be bygones. Graumann might feel somewhat differently. And the fact remains that while I sense we may be shaking hands very soon, we still have to assemble our ships, sail north to Emberlain, and snatch up our prize. The situation is like a damaged cargo rope, unraveling down to a single thread.” He saluted the Salvaras with his brandy snifter. “It will snap.”
Out on the water, the devilfish was victorious, and the guards rewarded it for its service by filling it with poisoned crossbow bolts. Boat hooks and chains were used to haul the carcass out of the center of the Shifting Revel; there was just no putting a creature like that back into the box once it had served its purpose. The monster’s red blood mixed with that of its victims and slowly settled in a broad, dark cloud; even this had a deliberate part to play in what was to come next.