Born a Monster

Chapter 128: Servant of the Axe, 28 – Survey

Servant of the Axe

Chapter 28

Survey

We spent half a day visiting all the Turner families on registry, both upslope and down. Wherever Miss Lindsey Turner hung her hat, it didn’t appear to be Boadicea’s Girdle.

“Do you want to scout out the church of Xistos?” I asked Madonna.

“I’m not ready, yet.” She said.

I didn’t understand why gathering information was something to be put on hold, but she knew her quest better than I did.

.....

“All right, then. Let’s find a captain or captaine willing to take us on a survey trip around the perimeter of Red Axe island, and then on to ... Mokru...”

“Makura Bay.” Kismet said.

“Yeah, that doesn’t sound like a place we want to go, boss.”

“Clan Makura village.” I said, tapping the map. “Even if we don’t find hints where the Puma-folk are living, how to co-exist with Makura sounds like something very much worth learning.”

“Makura might have ready access to trade goods like pearls.” Gamilla said.

“But we pull out before the Makura get angry?” Narces asked.

“We can’t continue our mission if we are dead. Nothing in these islands is worth us dying.”

“Several people disagree with you.” Madonna said. “They’ll be willing to kill you.”

“Well, that doesn’t sound good. Do we know who those people are?” Kismet asked.

“Not yet.” Madonna said. “Don’t worry, they will reveal themselves in time.”

“Kismet, have you uncovered any adventures in the area?”

“Hum? Oh, no, there’s rumors of a cursed temple over on this other island, here, but nothing where we’re going.”

“Cursed how?” Madonna asked.

Kismet shrugged. “Wasn’t able to get that. People just say cursed.”

“Mmm. Might be worth looking into.” Madonna said.

“Well, we’ll have to make that decision later, when we see what we can learn or gain from Makura Bay. And whether we’re ill or injured. Cursed temple sounds like something we need to be at full health to explore. Kismet, go ahead and figure out what sorts of equipment are going to be useful.”

The captain of the Worried Badger got us as close to shore as he dared.

“It looks like every single tree on the island has been cut down!” Gamilla said.

“And all they left were stumps.” Poor as my vision currently was in close quarters, I had extended range and clarity from one of the avian species working. “A few small animals living in the brush, but I see nothing large.”

“Forager’s Island.” Captain Morris confirmed. “Only thing you’ll find there is fresh water that needs to be boiled. Resources have been picked over by every ship that founded this region.”

“Why does Furdia even claim such a worthless scrap of land?”

“Everyone except Dauria claims that scrap of land. Every few years, some idiot puts up a flag there, and then either gets burned out when they charge too much for access to the spring or just dies off from lack of food.”

“Good to know. Gamilla, keep your eyes open for a place where we do want to found our colony.”

“Of course, ambassador.”

#

“Maybe we can even set up base on Makura Bay.” Kismet said.

“Not much likely.” He said. “Makura are possessive, territorial, and hostile, and those living on that island aren’t much better. I’ve agreed to two days and two nights, to anchor off the coast of Tangriani, here. But we’re not going to rescue you if the crab-folk take a disliking to you.”

“Fair enough, captain. Your first duty is to your ship and your crew.”

“Isn’t that two duties?” Madonna asked me.

“Not to any captain worth their water.” The captain said. “The one is useless without the other; taking care of either means taking care of both.”

Madonna cocked her head, baffled for the moment.

“Two days from now until we get there?” Narces asked.

“It could be three or four, if the winds stay strongly south to north.”

“Is that the seasonal preference?” Gamilla asked.

“Between the one stormy season and the other, aye.”

“How long is it until the next storm season?” I asked.

“It’ll be within a month of Harvest week, one way or the other. Most captains know to spent those months in a safe harbor. The temperature might not drop like it does up north, but winter is still the season of death here in the Isles.”

So, two months to earn enough to keep ourselves alive for three to five months. Five people, so near a copper a day, call it two to account for higher prices... six silver a month, or thirty silver. Ick. I mean we should have that, but how much were we spending?

“Gamilla, I’d like to go over the accounting books this afternoon or evening.”

“I’m available now, let’s do that.”

“By your leave, captain?”

“Of course.”

“Why are you asking his permission?” Madonna asked.

“We are only paying for passage, it is still his vessel. He may have things to discuss with us that we have not considered.”

“It shows him as more dominant than you.”

Narces scoffed. “Never mistake courtesy as anything other than strength.”

Gamilla held up a finger to him. “Might I give my own speech?”

“By all means, please.”

“Courtesy, or adhering to social convention, is absolutely critical. It shows that you are in control of yourself. Acknowledging the status of others means that you expect that same acknowledgement after you yourself attain that status. Showing respect to others is not weakness, it is strength, and shows an unspoken desire to be respected in turn.”

“And when they don’t?”

“Oh, in our society we just kill them. Anyone who doesn’t care about anyone will kill them over the smallest perceived advantage. Best to just get them out of life where they just can’t hurt the rest of us.”

Madonna blinked. “But betrayal is central to hobgoblin culture.”

“Betrayal is an art form in our culture, yes. But if some callous boob is just never going to develop beyond finger paints, it’s time to just keep them from trying, before they give the rest of us a bad name.”

#

“Okay, so how are we keeping track of coins by different mintings?” I asked.

“Oh, that’s easy. The type of coin by metal is listed by capital letter, and the nationality by the lower case letter.”

“I see, so this entry is 50 Manoran copper, in exchange for what?”

“Recognition of our right to found a colony on the island.”

“Okay, I also see our right to despoil. What about the other two?”

“Unless you want to pay two sets of taxes, the Red Axe Trading Company needs to stay only under one nation. And unless you want to turn pirate hunter, we don’t need letters of marque for the other nations.”

“And if we find ourselves attacked by Manoran privateers? Or defending ourselves from pirates who are Manoran citizens in good standing? How do we defend our actions in Manoran courts?”

“Well.... That’s... Not legal, strictly speaking.”

I rubbed the top of my nose. “Gamilla, I’ve found myself in a good number of not strictly legal situations. We need to be able to defend ourselves, or we’re going to end up defenseless. As a hobgoblin, you know what happens to the defenseless out here.”

She nodded. “Chopped up for fish food, ambassador.”

“I’m thinking of sending some of our coinage back to the homeland. How much can we send, and still expect to be here when the winter storm season ends?”

“Well, that depends on the image you want to maintain at home, and how much of that is immediate versus enduring.”

“I’m willing to start small, but I want at least a monthly stream of payments, over two years, gradually increasing in volume as our business investments take hold.”

“Then I’d encourage you to send nothing, yet. The silver puma statues may just be a one-time fluke.”

“I’d like to send back ten percent of our net gain, or a hundred thirty silver.”

She shook her head. “That’s way too much.” She said. “Especially this early. We’re building up on things we need later on.”

“Gamilla. In actual metal coin, how much do we currently have?”

She told me. “But don’t over-react. Let me show you where the rest of our money is.”

.....

“Please, do tell.”

She went over the expenses in agonizing detail, but I had a better understanding of our financial position by dinner.

The devil (pun not intended) of it all was, I couldn’t fault the need for any individual expense. Gamilla wasn’t wasting our money, it was just the sheer scope of everything that had to happen.

But I had Gamilla’s word that I could include fifty silver lucras in our next diplomatic parcel to Lewardsport (the Furdish capitol, where supposedly Sholwyr was serving as ambassador).

“Husband, you look stressed.”

“I admit that. I am stressed. We are all stressed.”

“Spa day when we get back?” Kismet suggested.

“I could go for a spa day.” Gamilla said.

“What’s a spa day?” Madonna asked.

“Ooh, she doesn’t know? Rhishi, now we NEED to go on spa day.”

#