32 Payoff (1/2)

”Eight seven, do I see eight eight?”

Just like it had done multiple times before, another hand shot up from the right of the auction's stage.

”The new highest bid is eight hundred and eighty Gildern from the great King of Whiteport. What about eight nine? Anyone willing to offer eight nine?”

”One million!” There, still in the center of the crowd, stood Duke Herak of Balit. As the fight for the rights to his own land had heated up, nothing could hold him in his seat anymore. For a split-second, everyone went silent from the audacious offer, but soon the cheap seats returned to their murmur, while Freigen wrung his hands as he opened and closed his mouth like a fish on dry land. However, the Fastgrade Merchants needed to increase the ludicrous sum even further. From behind the stage, Corco observed Ronnie as he took a deep breath to reignite the fire in their hearts, the ones which had been doused by the duke's ludicrous offer. However, someone had remained unimpressed and was even faster than the alchemist.

”One million and two hundred thousand.”

Seated next to the fretful Doctor Freigen, Valtr of Kaneas showed much more spirit than all others in the room. Still comfortable in his chair, he leaned back, put one leg on the stool in his front and called out his bid, his enunciation impeccably clear. With a smile and a nod, Ronnie acknowledged Valtr's bid on behalf of Eniila.

”The current highest bid is one million and two hundred thousand Gildern. Do I hear mo-”

”One five!” Impatient, a fuming Duke interrupted Ronnie. With his eyes bulging out of his mask, he stared not at the actual auctioneer, or at the current owner of his salt mine, but only at the strange young noble who kept raising the prices. However, Valtr seemed uninterested in Herak's intimidation, or in Herak's wishes.

”One seven.” A small smile formed around Valtr's lips.

”Nonsense!” Herak shouted in response, a trembling finger pointed towards the foreign dignitary. ”No matter how little Eniila has spent so far, it is impossible for them to have this much money readied in Etra!”

In response, Hieronymus Bombasticus put on a smile as fake as his name.

”Lord Herak, please. Everything today has been done to order. Whether or not our bidders are capable of paying should be the concern of the Fastgrade Merchant Company.”

At last the Duke stared up to the stage and put the merchants in his sight.

”According to rules established by your own company, any Gilderns used in the auction needs to be present in Etra at the day of the auction! Yet here are Eniila, Cahlia and Whiteport, three lordships perfectly allowed to ignore your own rules! Oath breakers is what you are, the lot of you!”

Rather than Ronnie, this time Brym stepped forward with a disarming smile.

”Duke Herak, it is very unfortunate that Milord did not acquire enough funds to keep up with his competitors, but I can guarantee on my life and honor that the same rules were applied to any participants in our auction.”

”Lies and trickery! Do not believe for a moment that this lord will be fooled by these, these...” as the lord of Balit was huffing and puffing away, Fadelio got ready to step to the front of the stage. If the grandstanding duke lost his head, he would have to subdue the raging bear. However, a simple shake of Corco's head was enough to call back the warrior. After he had done his part for deescalation, the prince looked back to the stage, towards the little brother he had raised over the past five years.

”Duke Herak,” the young man replied with the same patient voice as before, ”every man who sits here today has proven that they possess the funds they have bid so far. In fact, all present lordships decided to store their own funds within a warehouse of the Fastgrade Merchant Company for safekeeping, all except the Kingdom of Borna of course. This is something easy to check and easy to prove. Our Company is about to begin its next great undertaking, so we have no leisure to let people bid beyond measure, especially if they do not have the means to pay us back. We are too busy acquiring additional funds to be held back by petty revenge.”

Although steam still blew from the duke's head, his chest heaving up and down, one calm thought would tell him that the merchant prince wouldn't risk losing money over some squabble, and that he wouldn't ruin his reputation over it either. Even though violent conflict had only been just averted, Brym still retained his merchant's smile.

”Rather than being worried about the honorable dignitaries from Eniila, Cahlia and Whiteport, we are far more concerned with Milord himself. Although Duke Herak has brought considerable coin with him to Etra, the current bids, together with the price to be paid from previous acquisitions, add up to more than he worth of Duke Herak's possessions currently held within the city limits.”

When he himself became the victim of accusations, the duke's jaw jutted out from under his mask, as the man did his best to not explode and give the merchants further excuse to disadvantage him. Small red cracks formed on either of his cheeks, where his skin began to rupture from the tension built up over the past hour. Even his most venomous stare wasn't enough to shake Brym's tranquility.

”That's my boy.” Corco was so proud him.

At last Herak understood that without his army, any attempts at intimidation would fail, or maybe he had simply given in to the pressure around him. No matter what his reasoning was, the duke turned to the side, over to Devaerter, and did what Corco had hoped for all day.

”Hand me that damned paper!” With a snarl, the duke snatched away the contract he had previously declined, one which would take most of his wealth, down to his own personal fleet, if he failed to make enough money back in the following years. With aggressive movements, he signed the paper, the coal pencil almost breaking the thick sheep skin in the process. However little he wanted to risk his wealth, he had no choice at this point. As soon as the pencil's tip had left its mark behind, he stared back up towards Brym, towards the front of the stage.

”The Kingdom of Borna bids two million Gildern. There, are you satisfied?”

Throughout the entire ordeal, Brym held the same warm smile as before.

”Of course. Since all of master Devaerter's assets are already within Etra, there is no reason to doubt his credibility. After all, master Devaerter is well-reputed throughout the south.”

Backstage, Corco barely managed to stifle a laugh as he heard the little kid casually insult the great southern lord. The next part would be even better.

”Two point one.”

Once again the calm voice of Valtr rang out, and once again it sparked a reaction from Herak!

”Bastard! One more bet out of you and I will spend my remaining lifetime to wipe out every member of your rotten family, down to the last child!”

At last, Valtr himself lost his cool. His family threatened, the northern lord jumped up, with his hand on the short sword by his side.

”If you wish to fight, southern brute, you are free to try your luck in a duel. Come, barbarian, and taste Eniila's steel!”

In panic, the cheap seats cleared out as all the merchants in between Valtr and Herak tried to make way in the face of the inevitable clash between two beasts. A low growl escaped Herak's throat as he lowered his torso, ready for a charge. However, before the auction could be turned into a battlefield, a sudden bang stopped both sides in their tracks. From behind the stage emerged Atau, a smoking pistol held up in his left, and an enormous mace shouldered on his right.