The Merchant Prince

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The Merchant Prince - book excerpt

Chapter One: Mira

Gralbast says there are two types of people, the takers and the took. I know he’s not really that cynical, but I also see a level of practicality to that approach. The truth is, life’s not that simple, and there are more colors to the universe than black and white.

The more I saw of Pokorah-Vo, the more colors I saw in that spectrum. Not in the Urgaban themselves. Physically, they were all pretty much the same shade; kind of a pale yellow, not quite green. And they mainly seemed to be just under four and a half feet tall, so at five foot two, I was hard to disguise.

That’s the thing though; I was in disguise.

A couple of assassination attempts convinced me it might be wise to make people think the last one succeeded. So instead of being seventeen-year-old Mira, I was Raven. A man and a trader of goods. A merchant. Partner to Gralbast, an Urgaban of Pokorah-Vo, a city founded by exiles and criminals.

Urgaban was the real name for what humans called goblins. It seemed like humans made up a lot of names for races that already had names for themselves. Goblins, Urgaban, had a bad reputation.

“Look,” Gralbast was saying to me, “We both know there’s more to you being in Pokorah-Vo than a little trading. All I’m saying is that the more you tell me, the more I can help you.”

We were seated at a table in his home, and he had his familiar pipe in his hand. My team and I had only arrived at Pokorah-Vo a few days earlier. I’d given him the story of our trip from Su Lariano, but otherwise, Gralbast and I hadn’t discussed anything beyond trade.

“Help me?” I cocked an eyebrow at him in amusement. “All out of the goodness of your greedy little heart?”

His eyebrows shot up, “You wound me, Raven.” He put extra emphasis on my assumed name to remind me he was already keeping secrets for me. “Sure, there’s profit in stability. But we’re in this world for more than profit. You know me better than that I would think.”

I nodded as I thought about what he’d said. He wasn’t lying. I knew how he felt about slavers and that he’d taken an occasional loss by acquiring and discreetly freeing a slave or two. But what if it came to deciding between his people and other races?

“I’ll tell you what,” I said, “let’s speak hypothetically.”

I noticed the flash of victory that showed in his eyes before he had a chance to hide it.

“Alright.” He nodded. “Hypothetically.”

“Let’s say that until recently, no one knew that this city existed. As far as anyone knew, there were just random bands of Urgaban running around causing problems. Attacking and enslaving travelers… Occasionally eating them…” His face flushed a bit at that last part, but he couldn’t deny it. “You could see how some might think it would be a good idea to get together and just eradicate these bands. Yes?”

“Eradicate?” He gaped at me. “You can’t be serious!”

“But,” I went on, “when it was discovered there was an actual city and how big that city was, those same people might have decided they needed to figure out a different approach.”

His eyes narrowed as he put his first reaction behind him and started to examine the problem objectively, drawing from his pipe as he thought.

“And there are really only so many different approaches they could take,” he mused.

“Right.” I nodded. “But in all cases, the approach would have to result in ending the attacks and the slavery.”

“Slavers.” He looked like he had a bad taste in his mouth. “That’s going to be tough.” He met my eyes. “A lot of powerful people, and not just in Pokorah-Vo, make a great deal of money in the slave trade. They aren’t going to want to let that go.”

“So, if you were trying to solve this little problem, what would be your solution?”

“Well,” he said, “the first problem these hypothetical people would have, is that they don’t know anything about the power structure in this city. Without that, there’s no way they could formulate any kind of effective strategy. They’d send someone to gather intelligence. I’d already figured out you were here for that. But they must need whatever you can get for them before they can even start to put together a plan.”

I just looked at him without comment.

“Alright.” He nodded. “I’ll help you to get your information. But let me tell you why. This is my city, the good and the bad.”

“And the ugly,” I supplied.

“Even so,” he agreed, not knowing the reference, “but I’m no traitor. And there are good people here. People that deserve a better life for themselves and their families. If we can bring Pokorah-Vo into the open, to trade and deal equally with the other races, it will help my people. But my people can’t get there without help. I’m going to help you because in the end it will make a better life for them.”

“Well,” I grinned at him, “if I were on such a mission, I’m sure I would include that in my report!”

He shook his head, “No more nonsense about hypothetical. You need a plan. That’s what this is really about. You need a way to make Pokorah-Vo a peaceful, contributing ally. And without going through a bloody war and subjugation to do it. Yes?”

I hesitated a moment, then nodded.

“I have the connections and the knowledge,” he said, “and if truth be told, I’ve been looking for a way to change things around here for a while. But I didn’t have the resources to do it on my own. A little external… motivation. That can do wonders. We’re not just going to send information to let someone else try to figure it out. We’ll send the information and the plan.”

“You’re very ambitious.”

“A fellow never made a copper without a little ambition.” He grinned.

“Then I’d make a bet you aren’t running low on coppers.”

He just grinned at me in response.

“Gralbast, there are also some other things that people are curious about. Like why they haven’t heard from the Ulané Jhinura from the local forest. From Su Astonil.”

All levity left his face, and he no longer met my eyes.

“That was mostly before my time,” was all he said.

“You might as well tell me,” I prompted him. “I’m going to find out eventually.”

The eyes he raised to mine were hardened steel. “I’ll not sugarcoat this. You asked about ugly. This is about as ugly as it gets.”

“Tell me.”

“I understand it started when some Urgaban wandered into a forest garden. All but one were slaughtered by the little creatures that lived there.”

“The Pilané Jhin and the Sula Jhinara,” I supplied. “The pixies and the sylphs.”

“Aye.” He nodded. “This survivor. His name was Arugak. He got mad and gathered a bunch of others and they started burning all the gardens they could find.”

“What?” I was horrified. “Then the Ulané Jhinura must have tried to stop them!”

“Yes,” he agreed. “The Ulané Jhinura attacked them and drove them back out of the forest.”

“Naturally,” I said, trying to control my revulsion at what the Urgaban had done to the Pilané Jhin and Sula Jhinara. “Their entire purpose is to protect the forest.”

“Well, Arugak gathered more men. By then, he’d proclaimed himself the first king of the outcast Urgaban. He had tracked the Ulané Jhinura to their city. I’ve heard of your Su Lariano. This Su Astonil wasn’t nearly so large. With a combination of fires and cave-ins, they were overwhelmed. Most were killed in the attacks. Or shortly thereafter, in the feasts.”

“In the feasts?” I felt myself wanting to lock down, to block him out. I didn’t want to hear it. But I needed him to confirm.

“They were eaten,” he spoke those three words through clenched teeth. “Those who survived were made into slaves.”

My mind reeled from the brutality and pure evil of Arugak’s atrocities. I wanted to run from it, but I couldn’t. I needed to know.