No small matter, this. In theory the Partnership Banks were equal allies working to mutual advantage. In theory, a ran on the Bank in Dalar ken Halvar could be met by funds in Chi’ash-lan or vice versa; and the intricate treaties which bound the Banks together alleged that such support would be forthcoming automatically. But in practice, the larger Banks would happily combine to wreck one of their weaker associates if a profitable opportunity ever became available.
The wealth of the Qinjoks was a financial weapon which would make Galsh Ebrek great. The Flesh Traders’ Financial Association would acknowledge as much, and Banker Xzu and his fellows would have to deal with Alfric Danbrog as an equal. Between them, they would finance coal mines on Stokos, wars in the Cold West, forestry in Quilth, poetry in Tang…
As Alfric luxuriated in the possibilities, he realized that already he was committed. Cod was right. For Alfric, there were no options. The challenge would be great, and the dangers greater yet; but the bait was irresistible.
‘Well?’ said Cod. ‘Tell us your thoughts.’
‘I’m thinking,’ said Alfric gravely, ‘that the proposal you’re making would have to be subject to the negotiation of suitable terms. After all, 25 per cent is small recompense for the personal risks I’d be running, particularly when so much of the money would be going in bribes.’
‘You’re lucky to be getting anything!’ said Morgenstem, in a rare display of explosive anger. ‘At best, I thought you worth 5 per cent, not 25.’
‘Perhaps I know my own worth better than you,’ said Alfric calmly. ‘I’m thinking more along the lines of a 60–40 split.’
‘In your favour, I suppose,’ said Morgenstem sarcastically.
‘Yes,’ said Alfric.
This insolent audacity left Morgenstem temporarily dumbfounded, but Cod found tongue enough to say:
‘If thus you think, then please to think again, for 25 is our absolute maximum.’
‘Think I will,’ said Alfric solemnly.
But his head was filled not with percentages but with visions of glory. At whatever percentage, he would do a deal with these orks; and he would open his bank, and become rich, and great, and glorious. Already he was filled with a lust for enterprise, an enthusiasm for battle, and with savage hopes of ultimate triumph. Kingship of Wen Endex? His bank would give him a powerbase for making himself king, thus redeeming his father’s name and fulfilling his grandfather’s wishes.
Youth was over, yes; but all of manhood lay ahead. And, for Alfric, anything was possible.
Then Anna Blaume emerged from inside the Green Cricket to say:
‘There’s someone at the door. They want to see you.’
‘People?’ said Alfric, immediately beset by bloodstained visions of death and disaster.
‘Not dangerous people,’ said Anna Blaume. ‘People people.’
So Alfric went to the front door and found a most motley crew assembling outside. There were beggars and lepers, and widows in rags with bawling babies, and cripples and mutants, and more than a few people who were frankly insane.
Alfric realized then who these people were.
These people were Nappy’s constituency, those whose care Nappy had imposed upon him as the price of his life. Nappy must have spread the word before he ‘died in his sleep’, and obviously all of Galsk Ebrek knew by now.
Alfric began to suspect that he was going to pay a very, very heavy price for escaping murder at Nappy’s hands.
But he had no choice in the matter.
So he sighed, then said:
‘Come in.’