Obey Your Captain

Settling the babe within the basket commonly used for flowers, he pulled a cloth from within the cloak, wrapping it securely around the changeling.

Baron walked the halls he had only stepped into a handful of times, the last time he was here, he was a much younger man. A guard matched his step behind him while another in front, escorting him to his destination. The Lord’s manor hadn’t much changed, windows adorned the grey stone in as much natural light as the architect could muster. High ceilings with candelabras that would be lit at night hanging from beams. It was warmer than his boyhood home and there of course was no throne room.

The guards stood to attention outside a large, thick wooden door. Taking a few seconds to stand tall and fix his posture, he rapped, hard.

Grasping the iron handle, he unlatched the door, swinging it open, surprised who sat behind the desk. “Jeremiah?”

“Baron! What a lovely sight to behold! I haven’t seen you in… what is it, ten years?”

“Aye… It could be. You are a Lord now?”

“Indeed. Come, sit, sit. Tell me your tales. I’m sure you have plenty.”

He perched on the chair gestured to, taking in the man he liked to consider a friend. His hair greying at the temples, his eyes framed with a few crows feet. He remembered playing with the man before him while they were still boys. He remembered swimming in the lake, running the halls when Lord took his trips to Blackwater. It was the only thing Baron missed going to sea.

“I do come for more official business, my friend,” he explained. “You received my letter?”

“I… No I have not heard from you since we last wrote in the Summer.”

“Oh, I wrote to you two weeks ago, it should have arrived by now.”

“Maybe it’s still en route, please, tell me.”

“There is more since the letter, I will discuss that. However, my betrothed, her family were cast from their home, as yet I am loath to find a reason.”

“Betrothed? Is Lordling Torlar settling down?”

“I am no Lordling, my friend, you know this. But aye, I have found a fondness for Miss Warren.”

“Merchant Warren’s daughter?”

“Aye, his eldest.”

“Sad affair that was, dying so suddenly. The debt he left his family? Truly awful.”

“Aye, ’tis. I wondered if I could look more into this debt? I knew him well and did not know him as a man to hold debt to his name.”

“Certainly, Carlisle, please will you go fetch The Treasurer with the Warren Family finances.”

A man stepped out of a corner Baron hadn’t noticed. He remembered Carlise from the former Lord Neverember, he was a loyal, exacting advisor. He was sure Jeremiah was in good hands with his council. He watched the man leave out the corner of his eye before Jeremiah cleared his throat.

“So, tell me, how did you meet this young woman?”

“I hired her as my ship’s mage. She’s very talented.”

“Ah, I have heard of her talents. Unpredictable though.”

“Nay, not unpredictable.”

“My first year as Lord she almost ended up in the cells. She set young Merchant Marybel’s coattails alight.”

Baron had to hide his snigger. “I have not heard kind things about Marybel. His hands do so like to wander.”

“He claimed no wrongdoing.” Jeremiah shrugged.

“And you believed the slimy scallywag?”

“I could only go by evidence, Baron.” He stretched in his chair, slumping back slightly, “Alas, it was a few years back. Her father smoothed it over as he always did.”

“Always?”

He waved his hand dismissively, “Ah, it is of no consequence. Is your betrothed to be your wife soon?”

“Aye, within the week.”

“That is soon! Congratulations. Who have you asked to form the union?”

“You. It appears I am behind the times, I did not realise you were Lord.”

“I can still form the union. I’d be honoured to do so.”

“Thank you, old friend.”

A wooden ornament went sailing through the air, Baron caught it easily before it hit his head. “Less of the old,” Jeremiah snapped playfully.

“Old, without an heir.” He threw the sculpted carp back.

“As are you!”

Baron leant forward, “I have a longer life,” he whispered, smirking.

“Only if you do not die at sea. Life of a captain is not always the longest,” he shot back.

“Touché. I have lived this long.”

“How many scrapes have you managed to get out of?”

“A few. Adds excitement. Better than being stuck behind a desk.” He gestured to the aforementioned piece of furniture.

“You speak some truth. Lording can be interesting, however.”

“Not what I wish to do with my time.”

“What does your father think about that?” Jeremiah asked with interest.

“He was not happy. It is not his decision.”

“Very well. I could never see you Lording land anyway. The Captain title fits you well.”

“I’m glad you approve.” A small smile graced his lips. While he cared nought for others opinion, it was nice for someone to approve of him for once. For someone to admit his choices were right.

He settled more into the chair, waiting. He wasn’t sure how long he’d have to wait but it mattered not. He would wait indefinitely if that’s what it took. “So life is treating you well?” Jeremiah asked.

“Indeed. There is little to complain about. A plentiful ship, a woman to warm my bed. What more could I wish for?”

“True, my friend. That is true.”

“Yourself?”

Jeremiah sighed, “There is much to fix in this city. You’re…” He waved his hand as if thinking of the word, “Conundrum is not too uncommon.”

Baron cocked his head questioningly.

“Ah, it matters not. We will get to the bottom of the Warren trouble. If there is trouble at all.”

“Aye. Kaliyah is quite adamant in the agreement she came to.”

“Does she know who she made this agreement with?”

Baron stopped a moment. “It… it had actually not occurred to me to ask. I will do so tonight.”

“If she knows. Many do not know my court by name.”

“This is true. Alas, she was grief-stricken also, it is unlikely she will remember such details.”

“Of course, it is understandable.”

A knock on the door had both men straightening before a man wheeling in a cart stacked with parchment entered. “You requested the Warren estate?”

“That’s all for the Warrens?”

“Yes, my Lord.” The man bowed low, Baron wasn’t entirely sure who he was, he looked familiar, yet not.

“Thank you, Nillid. Is everything up to date?”

“Yes, my Lord. Carlisle did an inventory not so long ago.”

“Perfect, you may go.”

Nillid bowed low before leaving.

“That is an awful lot of parchment,” Baron commented, standing to peer into the wheeled cart.

“Merchant Warren was wealthy. Death of such a man will always accrue documents outlining possessions and what not.”

“You believe you have right over those possessions?” Baron asked while he flicked through a few of the pages.

“Of course not. My people work hard for what they have. There are taxes of course though, the city must have its guards to keep people safe.”

“But if it has already been taxed, why tax again?”

“I am not following.”

He pulled out the Tax Upon Death Notice, scanning it quickly. “When someone dies, the city puts a tax on them, based upon their wealth. I can see the city enacted a tax of-” Baron stopped mid-sentence, re-reading the amount. While Kaliyah had told him, he thought maybe she was inflating the figure in her mind, thinking it worse than it was. “In excess of nine-thousand gold upon the death of Merchant Warren…” Baron re-read, “Nine-thousand six-hundred and seventy-five gold,” he breathed in disbelief.

“Nine… May I?” he asked, holding out his hand. Baron passed it over before pulling the parchment from the cart, stacking it neatly on Jeremiah’s desk.

“This does seem high, but I’m sure it’s correct based on possessions. Miss Warren signed that she agree the amount.”

“You said yourself, she was grieving. Would probably agree to anything.”

“There could be truth to that. Go to your intended, finalise your ceremony. I will organise these and tomorrow, she can look them over.”

“Kaliyah will not settle, I ask that I bring her later today. Give me an hour.”

“Very well.”