Ser Patrick Pent
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040 The Archon Bank
🕑 Added 2024-02-03 07:45:50 +0000 UTCI helped Nicola to a seat by a fountain.
She grasped her head, breathing in sharp huffs. “I don't know what came over me. They’re going to try to kill me now, won’t they? What do I do? Where do I go?”
I said nothing and wrapped my arm around her shoulder.
Nicola shivered. “Heralds. I think I’m going to be sick. Who do they think they are to keep hurting people? I just wanted to keep my head down. I didn’t ask for any of this!”
She yelled into her palms.
Nicola was right to freak out, considering what I’d seen of Red Wyrm. But, a part of me was glad that she had put Beelith in her place. One never won against bullies by burying their heads in the sand. The best way to counter a weapon of mass destruction was with an even bigger bomb. Eventually, both parties would be too drained to continue.
“Damien, what do we do?” Nicola said in a small voice.
I pondered the problem. “Honestly? There’s no way Red Wyrm’s gonna allow this insult to fly. We should expect another altercation with them, sooner rather than later. The fact that we’re all guildsmen won’t do anything to stop them.”
Nicola’s eyes hardened. “Damien, should we have them assassinated?”
My eyebrows rose. “Where the hell did that come from?”
Nicola didn’t waver. “You’re an Assassin. You can easily do it. And, if not, there are people we could hire.”
“Hey, I’m not going to assassinate anyone over this matter. There’s a big difference between that and killing in self-defense.”
“It’s self-defense if we preempt them. It’s almost certain that they would strike.”
“And, the next time we need murder to rid ourselves of obstacles, we’ll call it preemptive. On and on until we become the monsters people try to stop.”
“Then let us be monsters,” Nicola said, rising to her feet. “I have family, Damien. I can't afford to let harm befall them, all because of a stupid spat.”
“But, what do you think would become of your family,” I said in a quiet voice, “if the guild uncovers our actions?”
Nicola stiffened.
“Look, let’s just think some more about this,” I said, “before making any concrete decisions. I get it; you’re spooked. But, that line of reasoning isn’t going to help.”
Nicola deflated and sat back on the fountain. She needed a change of scenery. The current topic was too dour.
“Would you like to check up on your family?” I asked. “It might help set your mind at ease, and I could tag along if you want.”
Nicola shook her head. “You wouldn’t like what you see.”
Ah. The Beelith girl had mentioned something about that, about her family being in debt. But, I had an intricate knowledge of the subject matter, what with being poor for most of my life. “There’s no way I would hate your siblings, Nicola.”
That got her to smile. “Alright, then. I scheduled a visit for today anyway. But, they wouldn’t be expecting you. I typically go with Ben. Just don’t think less of me afterward.”
“I’m the one who should be worried. I suck at first impressions. What do you think would serve as an appropriate gift for your family?”
I made my decision right there and then. Nicola was good people, the kind any party would die to have. And, I would get her on mine. Even if it meant sharing her burdens.
I didn’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t this.
Nicola led me to a large, stone building, situated near the city’s far eastern wall. The dull grey paint gave the impression of a place devoid of warmth—a sight that wasn’t bettered by the armored guard that towered beside the gate.
His full plate armor was of better material than those of the city guard, and a sigil consisting of two coins and a wreath replaced the Bargherian coat of arms on his surcoat.
Merchant Guard LVL 20.
The guard didn’t so much as say a word as we approached. Nicola didn’t offer a greeting either, which struck me as odd, considering she was one of the most genial people I knew. It was only after crossing the threshold that I realized why they had dispensed with formalities.
The building was enchanted.
The very air pressed down on me the instant we entered the courtyard, like heavy curtains draped across my form. [System] notifications spazzed out in the corner of my eye, triggering haptic buzzes in my brain.
“Ugly feeling, isn’t it?” Nicola said with a wince. “A high-level enchantment was built into these walls. It targets classers and interrupts their flow of energy. Trying to cast a technique here will result in energy loss and a failure to activate.”
“So,” I wheezed, “it’s a lot like what your prison cells are made of?”
“It is.”
“Why do they keep kids here?”
Nicola’s expression darkened. “Because they can”
“And, the city permits this?”
“Yes. The Archon Bank is more influential than you think. Besides, the precautions aren’t meant to keep the kids subdued. They’re meant to prevent outsiders from getting brilliant ideas.” She wrapped her arms around her, signaling her discomfort with the topic.
I fell silent as we walked past a barren lawn and into an empty reception. The building looked just as stately on the inside as it did on the out, with stone archways interspersed at intervals over a sterile, marble floor.
A single desk stood in an alcove opposite the entrance, protected by sturdy iron rails. A sleepy, old clerk manned the desk, and she looked up from her book as we approached.
“Ah, Ms. Ainsworth,” the clerk said, removing her spectacles. “I had no idea you were scheduled to visit. Is this, perhaps, your final visit of the month?” She noticed me and her eyebrows shot up into her hair. “What’s a Dark Elf doing with Skeelie?”
“He’s with me,” Nicola said.
The clerk frowned. “You know the. New visitors must fill—”
“Please. Can’t you endorse his visit? Just this once?”
“You’re asking too much of me, girlie.”
Nicola didn’t reply.
The clerk sighed and put her spectacles back in place. She opened a ledger that sat idle in front of her and grabbed a quill. “What’s your name, young man?”
“Damien. Damien Njoku,” I said.
“And your class?”
Oh, this should be fun.
Nicola stomped my foot.
“A—ow!”
The clerk raised an eyebrow.
“He’s a Ranger,” Nicola said in a voice laced with syrup.
“A Ranger, huh?” The clerk nodded. “A lot of elves seem to prefer that.” She stopped writing long enough to glance over the ledger. “I’m risking my neck for you, Ms. Ainsworth, waiving an authorization like this. I don’t give anyone the same privileges that I give you.”
“I know. And, I’m grateful. Thank you for everything you do.”
The clerk nodded. “You know where to go. I’ll have the kids over in a few minutes.”
“Do they have any complaints?”
“Just the usual. Too cold. Too little to eat. I try to do what I can. But, I’m not the matron, and you know how stringent the bank is with budgets.” The clerk blew strands of grey hair out of her face. “They loved the blankets I got them last time with the money you offered. But, I can’t keep doing stuff like that or someone’s going to notice.”
Nicola bit her lip. “Yeah . . . I understand.”
I sure as hell didn’t. It sounded like this place was some sort of orphanage. But, Nicola’s siblings were being held against their will?
Nicola led the way to a corridor that branched away from the anteroom and into a waiting area with long benches and dusty wooden tables. Cobwebs hung from the ceiling, long enough to reveal that the room didn’t see much use.
Nicola settled on a bench without bothering to dust it. I slid in opposite her and stared hard at the table.
“You have questions,” she said.
I didn’t bother being witty. “What is this place?”
“It’s an orphanage—”
“Really? There are violent prisoners out there who live in better conditions than this.”
“It’s not that bad . . .”
I fixed her with a blank stare.
Nicola sighed. “Okay, it’s really bad. It’s just . . . the Archon Bank needs a place to keep the kids until they come of age.”
“Come of age for what?”
“Indentured servitude.”
I sprang to my feet. “You mean slavery?”
“What? No. The Kingdom has abolished slavery.”
“That’s exactly what indentured servitude is! Just named in a fancy way.”
Nicola looked distressed. “Damien, sit down. Please.”
I sat with some reluctance.
“The Archon bank always collects their debts,” Nicola said, looking everywhere but at me. “It sounds nasty, but it is perfectly legal all over Vizhima. Those who default on payments must make up for it in servitude. And, it’s not exactly equivalent.”
“But, why are kids involved?”
“Because the debt is bound in blood. My father owed the bank, and then he fled, leaving my siblings and I to pay for his mistake.”
“You mean you once lived here too?”
“Yes. The Cult of Carnality paid for my release.”
My eyes widened.
“No, it’s not like that,” she added in haste. “They didn’t make me repay the debt. The cult simply holds people like me in high esteem. I became a carnal sister in gratitude.”
Well, that explained why she mingled with that bunch. She was too ingratiated for her good.
“Okay, let me get this straight,” I said. “Your siblings are being held until they pay off their share of your father’s debt . . .”
“Until I do.”
“And, if you don’t, the bank does what? Sell them off at eighteen?”
“Lease their contracts to anyone seeking indentured help, at fifteen.”
Oh, for the love of . . . “So, in the meantime, everyone in the city pretends that this is an orphanage?”
“Yeah. And, the expenses for raising the kids are added to their debts.”
“This is exploitation, Nicola.”
“I know.” She drew in a breath. “But, the Archon Bank can’t be crossed. There is nothing I can do about it except pay up. At least, they play by the rules.”
“How much more do you need?”
“I don’t want your money, Damien.”
“I’m just asking.”
“No. Don’t.”
“Nicola . . .”
She ran a hand through her braided hair. “It’s a little over twelve gold each.”
Oh . . . That amounted to about two thousand, four hundred pieces of silver? Gosh, did people here even have that kind of money?
“How long would it take to repay that figure in indenture?” I asked.
Nicola’s eyes glazed over. “About forty years each. The bank pegs the minimum wage for skilled labor at five silver coins a month. Unskilled labor draws even less, at three coins a month. But, all of that only starts counting after their contracts have been leased.”
Her features crumpled in an expression of grief. “If someone else leases their contract, I’d have a harder time buying it back. I need to free them before they turn fifteen, and the oldest does so three years from now.”
My stomach tossed unpleasantly. “Is there a way we can make a lot of money in a short amount of time?”
“There is. But, unless I resort to murder or theft, the egg of the Labyrinth is the best chance I’ll get. But, that route’s as good as suicide. My siblings would never let me take it.”
“Share.”
Nicola pressed a fist to her head in thought. “At the center of every dungeon lies a dungeon egg. They are pretty valuable to alchemy, and the one in Skeelie is purported to be worth over twenty gold pieces.
“But, no one has reached the center since the dungeons respawned twenty years ago. And, there is no shortage of people who try each time the dungeon opens. It’s a fool’s errand.”
“Then, we shall become fools.”
“No, Damien.” And, at this, she deflated, going limp beside me like a marionette bereft of its strings. “Half the people who go into the Labyrinth do not return. And, I’ll never forgive myself for dying while my siblings are still trapped in this hell. I’ll get the money the hard way, by saving from every job I take.”
But, Nicola was about twenty years of age. And, she still hadn’t come any closer to relieving her burden. Something was going to have to give between her and the bank.
I didn’t know which.
Comments
Ser Patrick Pent
Thank you
NinjaZebra
Thanks for the chapter! “You know the. New” typo here
