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Authors: Jonathan Moeller
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funds.
“Did you actually have this debt?” said Caina.
“No!” said Damla. “Of that, I am certain. I have never borrowed money, for moneylenders are dishonest rogues. Neither did my husband or my brother. Agabyzus hated moneylenders, and kept our money on deposit on with the goldsmiths.”
“Three hundred and fifty bezants is not so large a sum,” said Caina, performing the necessary mental arithmetic. A common laborer might make a hundred bezants in a year, maybe a little more or less. Damla owned the House of Agabyzus, and likely had access to more money than a common laborer.
“I could have paid it!” said Damla. “I have enough on deposit to pay most of it, and I could have sold some of our stock or pawned the furniture. Or I could have taken a loan from one of the damned moneylenders. The House of Agabyzus is profitable, and I would have repaid it in time. But Anburj would not listen! I begged, I offered to let him,” she swallowed, “take whatever he wanted, do whatever he wanted to me, if he would just let me pay the debt, but he refused. He had his men smash the House to teach me not to offer impudence to officers of the Brotherhood, and then he took my sons and my slaves and left.”
“And that is what you were doing,” said Caina, “checking your records. To see if there was a loan or a debt you did not know about.”
“But there is nothing,” said Damla. “I do not owe money to anyone.”
Caina stared at the Writ of Servitude for a moment.
“You don’t,” said Caina. “The debt is a fake.”
“Fake?” said Damla.
“The Writ doesn’t even name the moneylender,” said Caina. “Ulvan fabricated the debt as an excuse to seize your sons and slaves for himself. Likely he picked you because you were wealthy enough that your sons and slaves would be healthy, but not wealthy enough to challenge the Brotherhood.”
“But why would he do that?” said Damla, bewildered. “I have never met the man. I cannot imagine how I must have wronged him.”
“I don’t know,” said Caina. “But the Alchemists are buying all the slaves they can find, in massive numbers. The Collectors must be hard-pressed, and kidnapping foreigners and breeding your own slaves takes time. Easier to forge a few papers and kidnap some people than to ship slaves from across the sea.”
But why? Why did the Alchemists need so many slaves?
One problem at a time. After Caina had found a way to save Damla’s sons, slaves, and workers from their fate, she could ponder it more.
She rolled up the Writ and tapped it against her hand, thinking. Ulvan would keep his inventory of slaves in his own palace, secured in his cells. The palaces of the Brotherhood were fortresses, guarded and impenetrable, and the more prominent members even received Immortals as bodyguards. Getting into the house of a Master Slaver would be difficult…
Caina blinked.
But Ulvan had only just become a Master Slaver, and was holding festivities to celebrate his ascension.
Festivities that had included hiring Master Cronmer’s Traveling Circus Of Wonders And Marvels, who would undoubtedly perform inside Ulvan’s palace.
An idea rattled in Caina’s mind.
“What are you thinking?” said Damla, looking at Caina with trepidation, and perhaps a tiny glimmer of hope. “I could go to the Court of Debts, tell the hakim that Ulvan forged the Writ…”
“No, don’t bother,” said Caina, tapping the rolled Writ against her palm. “The magistrates will side with the Brotherhood, and even if you find a hakim immune to bribery, Ulvan will just hire the Kindred to have him assassinated. No, we’ll have to do this ourselves.”
“How can we help ourselves?” said Damla, shaking her head. “The Brotherhood is strong and wealthy and we are not.”
“The roof,” said Caina.
“The roof?” said Damla. “How will that help get my sons back?”
“I need to go to your roof, now,” said Caina.
Damla gave a resigned
“Did you actually have this debt?” said Caina.
“No!” said Damla. “Of that, I am certain. I have never borrowed money, for moneylenders are dishonest rogues. Neither did my husband or my brother. Agabyzus hated moneylenders, and kept our money on deposit on with the goldsmiths.”
“Three hundred and fifty bezants is not so large a sum,” said Caina, performing the necessary mental arithmetic. A common laborer might make a hundred bezants in a year, maybe a little more or less. Damla owned the House of Agabyzus, and likely had access to more money than a common laborer.
“I could have paid it!” said Damla. “I have enough on deposit to pay most of it, and I could have sold some of our stock or pawned the furniture. Or I could have taken a loan from one of the damned moneylenders. The House of Agabyzus is profitable, and I would have repaid it in time. But Anburj would not listen! I begged, I offered to let him,” she swallowed, “take whatever he wanted, do whatever he wanted to me, if he would just let me pay the debt, but he refused. He had his men smash the House to teach me not to offer impudence to officers of the Brotherhood, and then he took my sons and my slaves and left.”
“And that is what you were doing,” said Caina, “checking your records. To see if there was a loan or a debt you did not know about.”
“But there is nothing,” said Damla. “I do not owe money to anyone.”
Caina stared at the Writ of Servitude for a moment.
“You don’t,” said Caina. “The debt is a fake.”
“Fake?” said Damla.
“The Writ doesn’t even name the moneylender,” said Caina. “Ulvan fabricated the debt as an excuse to seize your sons and slaves for himself. Likely he picked you because you were wealthy enough that your sons and slaves would be healthy, but not wealthy enough to challenge the Brotherhood.”
“But why would he do that?” said Damla, bewildered. “I have never met the man. I cannot imagine how I must have wronged him.”
“I don’t know,” said Caina. “But the Alchemists are buying all the slaves they can find, in massive numbers. The Collectors must be hard-pressed, and kidnapping foreigners and breeding your own slaves takes time. Easier to forge a few papers and kidnap some people than to ship slaves from across the sea.”
But why? Why did the Alchemists need so many slaves?
One problem at a time. After Caina had found a way to save Damla’s sons, slaves, and workers from their fate, she could ponder it more.
She rolled up the Writ and tapped it against her hand, thinking. Ulvan would keep his inventory of slaves in his own palace, secured in his cells. The palaces of the Brotherhood were fortresses, guarded and impenetrable, and the more prominent members even received Immortals as bodyguards. Getting into the house of a Master Slaver would be difficult…
Caina blinked.
But Ulvan had only just become a Master Slaver, and was holding festivities to celebrate his ascension.
Festivities that had included hiring Master Cronmer’s Traveling Circus Of Wonders And Marvels, who would undoubtedly perform inside Ulvan’s palace.
An idea rattled in Caina’s mind.
“What are you thinking?” said Damla, looking at Caina with trepidation, and perhaps a tiny glimmer of hope. “I could go to the Court of Debts, tell the hakim that Ulvan forged the Writ…”
“No, don’t bother,” said Caina, tapping the rolled Writ against her palm. “The magistrates will side with the Brotherhood, and even if you find a hakim immune to bribery, Ulvan will just hire the Kindred to have him assassinated. No, we’ll have to do this ourselves.”
“How can we help ourselves?” said Damla, shaking her head. “The Brotherhood is strong and wealthy and we are not.”
“The roof,” said Caina.
“The roof?” said Damla. “How will that help get my sons back?”
“I need to go to your roof, now,” said Caina.
Damla gave a resigned
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