The sun was setting on Bellasa, at the end of the 7th Moon, but Lerran was just getting ready for his day. He awoke, in one of the spare rooms above the cobbler’s house, and dressed in a loose white shirt. Over it, he draped his black coat. He did not intend to fit in with Bellasa style—full of sashes and big brass braces. In Sheld, metal imports from Starath had supplied them with more than enough copper to get over any obsession to it. He hooked his scabbard onto his belt, and ran a hand through his brown hair.
After dressing, Lerran marched through the gang-house, collecting others as he passed. Without a word, Tekla gave him a nod and they crossed the room, past the cluttered plotting table, to the apartment door. The guard clapped Tekla on the shoulder as they exited. A narrow stairway led down, beside the cobbler’s, to the lantern-lit street of the Bellasa east district. A handful of Captain Urro’s crew waited there, armed and wide-awake.
“Got scouts on the route,” Tekla said. “They’ll give us a signal if guards cross our path.”
“Good,” Lerran said. He was used to Sheld, where the guards worked for Gharo as much as his own men. They were off to meet with the gangs, in the shadows of the night, to negotiate an alliance that might lend strength to Bellasa’s underground.
The meeting took place in a garden, behind an estate. According to Tekla’s intel, Lord Illoris’s property was neutral ground. He had been blackmailed by one of the two organizations that was meeting here, to allow the use of his land for this summit. Lerran was a little suspicious that this gave the respective group an advantage—what if more than Lord Illoris’s property had been compromised?
Uninvited, Tekla and Lerran led the way up to Illoris’s front door. They rapped twice, and a shutter opened. “Who are you?” asked a muffled voice within.
“Family of Gharo,” Tekla said. “Tell your other guests.”
“A moment, please,” came the reply. For ten minutes, they waited in the shadows, fearing that one of their scouts might come dashing up in a panic. Instead, the wooden shutter thumped down again, and the porter said, “Our guards will take your weapons until you leave the premises. Agreed?”
“Are the… guests armed?” Tekla asked. He glanced at Lerran.
The voice was clear. “No.”
“Very well,” Tekla concurred, at a nod from Lerran. The door creaked open, and a butler led them away from it. Three guards appeared in chainmail with spiky metal plates on their elbows, shoulders, and feet. The Gharo gang surrendered their weapons. “Where’s Lord Illoris?” Tekla questioned.
The butler, in a folded black robe, seemed defensive. “It’s of no business to you, or your kind. Get in, and finish your business here.”
The contempt dripped from the man’s voice, and the word ‘scum’ seemed an unvoiced suffix to his speech. Lerran grasped the man’s shoulder as he walked by and gave the stiff serving man a smirk.
In the garden, two groups stood as separate as Lerran had suspected they’d be. On the right were Brek’s Brothers, a network of underground slavers run by a truly ruthless man. In the dark it was hard to tell how many men behind Brek were his slaves. They might’ve all been. That man stood with his hands on his hips, regarding the door where Lerran entered with an impatient scowl. Across from Brek was a less menacing group, though Lerran wouldn’t trust either with the life of anyone he cared for. Known only as the Seekers, the second conclave of criminals that had come to the table were an organization of spies and information hunters. Among them were at least four women, and there was no clear leader on display.
“What brings Gharo to our meeting place?” Brek demanded with a loud voice. “How’d you even find out about it, buy the information from our… fellow negotiators?”
“We resent that,” said one of the Seekers, a short man wearing black. “They did not get anything from us.”
“A faulty guarantee,” Brek grumbled as Tekla answered the awaiting gangs.
“This alliance concerns all of Bellasa,” Tekla said. “We want to share in whatever deal is agreed upon.”
“The concerns of Bellasa are no concerns of Gharo’s.” Brek crossed his arms and glared at Lerran and Tekla as they paced down the steps. Their men arrayed behind them, all wearing green eye brooches in plain sight.
Another of the Seekers spoke up. “What does Gharo bring to the table, from across the Grey Sea?”
“Recourses and connections,” Tekla said. “I thought the Seekers, of all people, might appreciate contacts in Sheld.”
Brek shook his head. “You’re considering this? Let’s throw them out into the street!”
“Now, now,” the Seekers replied. “A team of three is stronger than two. Though, also more visible.”
“They weren’t invited!” Brek argued. “If they are to share in our deal, they do not share in the profits, only the benefits of getting the job done.”
“That’s the deal?” Lerran asked. “Share in resources to accomplish missions, then split the profits? I was expecting more. Tekla, shall we reconsider?”
“Don’t play witty to me, fellow,” Brek snapped. “Tekla, keep your sidearm sheathed.”
Tekla blinked. “My comrade is the son of Gharo himself. He has an interest in Bellasa, one he will contribute to actively, but also not soon forget.”
The Seekers spoke up again. “We do not mind a foreign influence in Bellasa. The only thing we have here is a King who fights crime. What do they have in Sheld? Think about it, Brek. A king who asks us for our opinions.”
“Their future, not ours,” Brek scoffed. He looked back at his men.
“No,” Lerran said. “Our present. In Sheld, the Lord Employers that have run the city since it was founded now wait outside my father’s chambers for an audience. Before sailing here, I spoke with one, while my father entertained a guest from Lo Mallago.”
“Lo Mallago,” Brek said. “Will Gharo have Bellasa dancing on strings like that city? We must not trust the foreigners. Seekers, please.”
Lerran interrupted again. “If we agree on a deal, we are all three equal in our stakes here. But if you would like to see what Gharo is capable of, sail to Bellasa and tell them son Lerran sent you. They will cover your travel expenses. We value merit—if you visit, expect to pull your weight while you are there.”
“They’d cover a voyage there?” Brek asked.
Lerran chose his words carefully. “If you are as worthy of our support as this alliance is.”
The Seekers were sold already, and soon Brek was brought around. Within the hour, they signed a document agreeing to contact one another with potential jobs and split the rewards from such tasks. Brek’s slaves could make invaluable spies and tips from the Seekers would present ideal targets for the slavers capture. Gharo’s kin would contribute outside supplies as needed, smuggled into Bellasa free of King Ugala’s legal tax or spymaster.
“That went well,” Tekla said as they strode out of Lord Illoris’s estate. An upstairs bedroom was well lit, and a man watched them go. “Will Gharo actually afford their passage?”
“He might,” Lerran said. “He’ll certainly put them to work.”
“And you?”
Lerran shrugged. “I’ve a brother and an uncle to find, and it does not appear he’s in Bellasa.”