A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor

"Well, we cannot deny that the gate and the walls are not in their finest condition," Greeves said. "However, I might say that you are valuing the merchandise based on appearance. Functionally, every weakness has been taken care of, with all the swiftness we could muster. The bowing of the gates has been fixed, their hinges have been changed and reinforced.

The only repairs that need to be conducted on it are minor ones."

"Being that as it may," the taller old man continued, playing with the rings of his gnarled old fingers, "Solgrim has highlighted itself. Two Yarmdon attacks in a matter of years. Should that not alarm you, as it does we people of the city? There is something about this village that seems to invite attack.

That ought to be acknowledged, and extra security measures, ones that we must not demand from an ordinary trade village, must be put in place."

"Extra measures..?" Greeves said suspiciously. "Are you meaning to punish us for the hardships inflicted upon us by our mutual enemy? In a time when the village is busy recovering from the damage that such an enemy has inflicted, you would raise the bar, and make our recovery all the harder."

Greeves leaned back in his chair – it was only he, Oliver, and the welcomed merchants that had been allowed to sit. Nila stood, in the capacity of an observer. And Verdant and Jorah stood in the capacity as Oliver's guard.

"Punishing you?" The same old merchant smiled. "Nonsense. We respect the efforts that the people of Solgrim have put in. We respect the new merchants that this little village is giving rise to… And in that respect, we outline our conditions necessary for its sustained growth."

"Indeed," echoed the old man with the earrings. "For the good of the people here, one must not grow greedy. The sweet scent of the flower that you are nurturing has already twice lured in the sting of the Yarmdon bee. To ask that you grow a sturdier greenhouse is not such a strange ask, is it?"

"Where there is gold, there must also be a thick chest, armed with a proper lock to secure it in," finished the third, tapping his cane against the floor as he gave that pronouncement.

"These are pretty words, gentlemen, but if you intent place restrictions on us more burdensome than we can rise up to, you must outline them, and we ourselves must review them. If you can't do that, we can't even begin to think about coming to an agreement," Greeves said.

"An agreement, Greeves?" the smaller man, grasping his cane, purred. There was a malicious look below his long dropping grey eyebrows. "Is it not your duty in this discussion to see to an agreement?"

He didn't finish the rest of that sentence, but he made it quite clear that the three merchants of the guild were quite happy to walk out of the discussion with nothing but the denying of Greeves' requests as their accomplishment. They needed not for the negotiations to succeed. It was as Greeves had predicted it would be, Oliver thought.

The guild was using what power it had, and what events had occurred, to bring Solgrim to heel before it could attempt to grow much further.

Still, Oliver did not speak a word. It was Greeves that he was interested in. The man was as devilish as they came. He would not overlook such a clear threat, but how would he respond to it, when at times, his anger seemed an even more fearsome thing that Oliver's?

Greeves shook his head, as if he was wounded. There was not the slightest trace of the anger that was sure to be brewing beneath the surface. Only a feigned sadness. "If that is how you must put it, gentlemen, then I find that regretful… I thought we'd built up quite the civil relationship."

"Do forgive my companion," the tall old man said. "You must have misinterpreted his words if it came across to you as lacking civility. We treat all our partners with the same measure of respect. No matter how far up out of the gutter they might have dragged themselves."

"Is that so?" Greeves said. "Well, for a man that still carries the stench of the gutter so strongly, I must express that I am relieved in that. Speak then, what are these demands of yours, in seeing our village better fortified."

"We would see the height of your walls doubled," the tall old merchant said, without missing a beat. "And we would see your garrison increased to five hundred."

"Five hundred?" Greeves said as though incredulous, standing out of his seat. "Do you know how much coin it takes to hold five hundred men content? You'll starve us out before winter comes! Autumn is already stirring in the air, the people have need of reprieve, not a further indirect taxation. Five hundred men, for a village of a mere thousand?"

Oliver had to hide his frown. He saw that the merchants across the room were smiling, as if satisfied with Greeves' reactions. They quickly hid those smiles, however, and feigned indifference.

'Greeves knows that we were planning to field five hundred men anyway, right?' Oliver thought, as if there could be any room for doubt, as if Greeves had ever forgotten anything that involved numbers. 'So that reaction is exclusively for their benefit?'

"It is the number of men that troubles you, then?" The man with the cane said. "I thought that, with your Lord Patrick in charge, you would have the coin to pay for such a force, no matter the quantity."

"Quite the opposite," Greeves said. "I am not sure if you have noticed, but our village was near enough burned to a crisp. The coin has to be spent on the townspeople. Ser Patrick has declared them to be of more importance than our military.

And in his humbleness, he has not even declared what we all know to be true – with him here, three hundred men, or even two hundred, are worth as much as five hundred."