Read Online Jimmy the Hand by Raymond E. Feist, S. M. Stirling - Free Book Online

evolved over the years into a voice for the
merchant class in the halls of power. The Guild’s co-operation
was vital to the success of del Garza’s plans, or at the very
least he needed to ensure they were not in opposition to him.
    The three
maintained equally supercilious expressions while their eyes,
glittering in the candlelight, were fixed on del Garza’s every
move. They waited for his attention with dignified restraint,
ignoring the draughts that moved the wall hangings, barely moving to
draw their cloaks tighter around their shoulders.
    Del Garza
continued to write, scratching away at an only moderately important
document, fully cognizant of how rarely these gentlemen displayed
such patience. He was enjoying this little exercise of power. Indeed,
this was for his pleasure; the next part of the evening’s
endeavours would be for his lord’s advantage.
    He finished
writing, sanded the document and shook it, then laid it aside and
turned to look at the men seated opposite him. ‘Thank you for
coming,’ he said, his voice coldly insincere.
    Marcellus
Varney, a shipper of Quegan ancestry, raised an eyebrow. He was a
bull-necked man who had obviously spent his youth in hard labour.
Now, in his middle years, there was still muscle under the rich man’s
fat. ‘We were not invited,’ he said precisely. ‘I
was under the impression that we were arrested.’ His entire
attitude spoke of distaste.
    ‘Nevertheless,’
the acting governor said with great politeness, ‘you could have
resisted.’ He tipped his head to the side and opened his hands.
‘No, no, you must allow me to thank you for your co-operation.’
    ‘Get on
with it,’ the shipper said, his tone flat, his eyes resentful.
    Del Garza
glanced at each of them, then made an acquiescent gesture.
    ‘As you
wish, gentlemen.’ He sat back in his chair. ‘You are, no
doubt, aware of the special orders and state of emergency I am about
to declare in Krondor. I’ve submitted a copy of the order to
your guild and I expect you’ve had the day to ponder it.’
    The three men
shifted in their chairs. It amused him; they might almost have
rehearsed it, the timing was so mutual.
    ‘I invited
you here tonight to see if there was anything I could do to gain your
support. Times ahead will be difficult and I want to ensure that the
most respected voices in the Merchants’ Guild speak in favour
of the necessity for these acts.’ That’s got their
attention, he thought with an inner smile. A little flattery
beside intimidation did wonders.
    The gentlemen
focused on him as though they believed he cared about their opinion.
Which, of course, he did, as long as it was in agreement with his.
    Rufus Tuney, a
grain merchant with six critically located mills around the city,
grimaced, then waved a hand somewhat languidly. He was a foppish man
who tended to wear excessive amounts of lace and powder, and a
cloying cloud of spices and lilac scent surrounded him wherever he
went. ‘The new regulations you have proposed are not without
merit,’ he commented. ‘The trouble is they seem . . .
somewhat excessive.’ He looked at the acting governor with
raised brows. ‘Even if the three of us were wholeheartedly in
support of your position—’ he gave a delicate shrug, ‘—of
what use are a mere three votes?’
    ‘Do not
allow that to be a consideration, gentlemen,’ del Garza
said, his voice hard and flat. ‘What you must consider are your
own advantages in the matter.’
    Silence greeted
his remark and del Garza could see them resisting the urge to glance
at one another.
    ‘Advantage?’
Varney queried.
    I expected
him to be the one to ask that question.
    The third
merchant, a spice trader named Thaddius Fleet, shifted in his seat.
He was a nondescript man, given to well-made but simple garments.
‘See here, del Garza. What exactly are you proposing?’
    And del Garza
had expected him to try to lead the negotiations. Sometimes it was
almost too easy. He sighed.