Drafted for Discretion

Writers: Miriah, Yvonne
Date Posted: 15th August 2014

Characters: Taril, Arnolt
Description: Taril hires for a couple of jobs.
Location: Sunstone Seahold
Date: month 8, day 10 of Turn 7
Notes: Mentioned: Yarmel, Humari

It wasn't unusual for Taril to be down by the docks, amidst the maze
of barrels, crates and bales of wool or hay. Several fat-bellied cargo
vessels sat low in the water with holds full of ballast-- water
perhaps, or raw clay or ore for processing. A schooner was in dry dock
to get the clams and weeds off the hull, and several single-masted
fishing boats were sailing in with heavy loads.

It smelled of seawater and fish guts, and the air was damp and cool.
Taril took a deep breath, relishing the atmosphere. There was
something about a stiff wind blowing in from the sea that stirred the
blood and made you feel alive. He whistled a little as he limped along
the shore, exchanging a nod here and there with men he was acquainted
with. Finally he stopped a young boy with a wave of his fingers. "You.
Lad. I'm looking for Arnott. You see him?"

The kid was seven, maybe eight turns. He pushed his patched cap back
on his head and eyed Taril up and down, a wholly adult expression on
his weather-beaten, freckled face. "Wot's in it for me?"

Taril shrugged. "You tell him to come meet me at my warehouse. I've
got a job for him, and for you, if you find him."

The kid was off like a shot. The Hold might provide the basics, but
the chance to earn a little on the side was appreciated by the poorer
families with cots further from Sunstone Seahold itself. Taril smiled
a little to himself as he watched the kid run, then, a little
wistfully, turned back up the hill and began to make his way to the
warehouse.

By the time he arrived, the kid was back, this time with another
urchin in tow. This boy was older, maybe twelve or thirteen, and as
ragged as the first. "Got a job for you boys," Taril told them. "I
take it you're interested?"

The older boy eyed Taril with suspicion and crossed his arms. Living
near the docks had made him grow up far too fast; he knew who Taril
was and what he did. "Depen's on the job yer wantin' done and how much
yer payin'."

"Here." Taril turned and unlocked the giant padlock on the warehouse
door with a key from the ring on his belt. Pushing it open he beckoned
the boys inside. The warehouse was still under construction, but it
wouldn't be long until the slate roof was finished and the space was
useable. The inside was an echoing cavern, divided into several small
cargo bays that would eventually be fitted with their own wide steel
doors. Taril gestured at the floor. "This is filthy. I want someone to
sweep everything clean and pick up all the bent nails the damned
carpenters have been dropping before they go through my boot. There's
also a tunnelsnake in here. A quarter pound of sugar to both of you
for the clean up, and a thirty-second mark to clean out the
tunnelsnakes. You interested?"

The boys looked around and then the youngest looked wide eyed at the
thought of the sugar, but Arnott spoke up before the other boy could.
"This place is awful big and tunnelsnakes bite. sixteenth mark."

Taril snorted. Little thieves. "Thirty-second mark each, provided the
place is clean and you both catch and kill two by sundown tomorrow.
Take it or leave it."

Arnott frowned, then looked down at the other boy before giving a
grudging nod. "Fine. Can do it. But we want half the marks up front."
He crossed his arms, his chin lifted.

"Half the sugar once the warehouse is half cleaned, and half the marks
when I see two dead tunnelsnakes on my desk-- and no sooner." Taril
shook his head. "Don't insult me, boys. You know I'm good for it."

"You got the marks, but don't mean we'll get paid like we should."
Arnott grumbled. "Been asked to work before and not been given the pay
I earned." True, it hadn't been this man, though. "Fine. We'll do it."

"Good." Taril felt a momentary flash of triumph. Even a small bargain
like this was enough to give him a bit of a thrill. He spat on his
hand and extended it to Arnott. "Shake on it."

Arnott spat on his own and clasped the older man's head. He stopped
and eyed Taril. "Hey...didn' ya just get married or sumthin?"

News travelled fast. "Sure. And there's a thirty-second mark in it for
anyone lets me know if she's being harassed while she's out," Taril
said. "And you can spread that around."

Arnott eyed him. "So yer not gonna be mean to her?"

The younger piped up quickly. "She snuck me sweets sometimes. But her
brothers are mean." He was quickly elbowed by Arnott. "Ow.." There was
a scowl that Arnott ignored.

"Sure. But her brother already wants t' know if she's out alone."
Arnott sneered. "I don't tell him nuthin."

"Good." Taril narrowed his eyes a little. The brother in question was
probably Yarmel. That link would have to be broken, and soon. Yarmel had no
business following up on Humari, especially now that she was _his_. "You,"
he said, turning to the younger boy. "What's your name?"

---

"There's a broom over there," Taril nodded to the first cargo bay, "and feel
free to use any box or crate you find to collect the nails. Arnott, I have
another job for you... if you're interested. Something for someone
slightly... taller."

Arnott eyed the man suspiciously before he reached for the broom and then
carefully faced him. "I don't do that. Don't care what they say."

Taril snorted. "Oh, please." The other kid had taken off around the corner,
leaving the two of them alone-- or seemingly alone. "Don't flatter yourself.
What I want is entirely business, boy. But if you're not interested in
hearing me out, that's fine. You've still got the marks we agreed on."

The suspicious look didn't fade, but the boy relaxed a little more. "Okay.
Whaddya want else done?"

Now that he was sure that he wasn't going to get whacked with the broom,
Taril limped a few steps closer so he could lower his voice. "You and I have
a problem in common-- Yarmel. Man like that doesn't deserve to be a guard,
wouldn't you agree?"

Arnott's eyes widened, then narrowed. "No. He don't. He's right brutal.
Caught me taking a redfruit off a cart once and gave me a choice. Still got
scars from it. I hate 'im. " He paused and lowered his voice. "Do I get ta
off him?" He sounded a bit too eager.

Tempting... but no. A quick fix was never the right solution. "Not quite. I
need something more discrete-- I want to destroy his reputation. No
reputation, no guard job." And a son with a blackened reputation would
reflect badly on Yriadha as well. It was step one of a plan. "I'll give you
a quarter mark and a bucket of tar paint if you'll start putting up graffiti
suggesting that Yarmel sleeps with men. You in?"

Arnott's eyes gleamed. Taril wasn't too far from the truth, but he kept his
mouth shut about that. If Yarmel ever found out, it would be his life. But
the thought of bringing down the man was too tempting for the young boy. His
brain was already kicked into over drive about the possibilities. And his
voice lowered even further. "That Guard Captain, he and Yarmel will try to
find out who done it. Could be rough on us here at the docks fer a while."
He already had an idea of what he was going to paint.

"True." The merchant shrugged. "But it's better than letting things stay the
same. If you get caught, you keep your mouth shut and I'll see what I can
do. You start talking and I'll let you dangle. But I don't think a clever
lad like you will get caught. And who knows-- you do a good enough job, keep
your head down and your nose clean, and there might be a job for you in my
operation once it's done."

That caught his attention. Arnott stared at Taril. A job with this man would
make sure that his family got fed. "Won't tell nuthin, just like I do for
your Lady." he spat on his hand again and offered it. "Deal."

"Deal." Taril spat in his hand and did the same. Although what did Arnott do
for Humari? He'd have to ask her once he was home. "My advice to you-- start
small. Don't get cocky and plaster the Hold and docks all at once. It's more
effective if your work appears over time. And once a few of your messages go
up, make sure to hit my warehouse. Got it?"

"You want me to paint your warehouse? After we get it all cleaned up?"
Arnott looked puzzled and then understanding lit his eyes. "So they don't
think it's you who's wantin' it done..." He nodded and then grinned. "I can
do that. When can I start?"

"I'll have a can of tar paint waiting for you in two days under the big flat
stone at the south-east corner of the warehouse. You can start then. In the
mean time..." Taril reached into his pocket and drew out a handful of
battered thirty-second marks. He counted out four and handed them to Arnott.
"The rest will be coming once your art starts appearing. Don't spend it all
in one place."

Arnott clutched the marks and hurriedly tucked them into a pocket in his
trousers. "Won't." He flashed Taril a sly grin. "Don't you worry none. It'll
get done right proper."

"Good." Taril nodded once, briefly, then turned and left the warehouse.
Arnott's history wasn't unknown to him, and he had every confidence that the
boy wanted Yarmel finished at Sunstone Seahold just as much as he did.

Last updated on the August 17th 2014

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Drafted for Discretion