A Bargain with Darkness by Eliott Peter

Author:Eliott, Peter
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Further Press
Published: 2023-12-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 18

Youth

That evening Cad helped me relocate to 44 Masthead Lane. Leaving most of my possessions locked safely away at 27 Fletcher, we brought over only the essentials, and we accomplished this with admirable secrecy. Our routes were confined to back alleys, and we never carried too much at once, thereby avoiding the attention of salvage gangs. After everything was locked securely inside, including us, Cad produced a cask of ale, which he had obtained in that extraordinary way of his. I don’t really like ale, or mead or beer, but this was a good brew, and something about prying off that oaken lid and messily slurping down the frothy drink felt like a delicious piece of adolescent naughtiness. Cad, who generally didn’t lack for cheer, seemed extra buoyant that evening, and this was because I had begun to confide in him about several of my recent exploits. It also didn’t hurt that I had just paid him ten tolgens for all of his post-storm help.

“Ten is about half of what I’d make on a standard buy operation,” I explained. “I’m not saying the things I ask of you are easy, but they’ve got to be better than trying to negotiate your way off some creaking scum barge in the dead of night or squatting for hours in the marsh because the constables are waiting to stick you in a windowless tomb. Trust me, you’ve figured out a far better way to earn a living.”

I’m aware that I can be overbearing with these lectures. But I was softening the field for the eventual revelation regarding Cad’s treasure heist—the one that would now be carried out by a gang of extortionist bullies. This confession had the potential to turn unpleasant. Cad ignored my lecture and directed me back towards my other form of payment.

“So, tell me more about Breaker’s crew. Ya actually stood Jahd down? And two others?”

Cad was draped over the living room easy chair in a leather jerkin and gray linen trousers, and I was relaxing on the sofa in wool pants and a house robe. I had brought some glass goblets from 27 Fletcher, which we were using for the ale, and the yawning aperture of Cad’s vessel was leaving foamy rings in his reemergent stubble.

“I suppose you could call it that.”

“And these noblemen, did ya get their names?” he asked.

“They weren’t nobles. Just gentry. Cogendale.”

“Miles Cogendale? The insurer?”

“How the hell do you know him?”

Truly, I was impressed. Cad was as street smart as they came, and his personable nature lent itself to a wide range of friendships; still, the fact that he actually knew, or knew of, a gentleman underwriter from the Middle City really did stretch the limits of what I expected from him.

“He underwrote Droden’s marina for a couple years,” Cad explained. “He came around a lot, looking at the new boats and stuff.”

“I had no idea.”

“Yeah, but Droden ended it. Too expensive.”

That was unfortunate, but understandable. Insurance for waterborne or water-adjacent businesses was astronomical,

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