It was probably out of a concern that the pro-war faction in the royal palace might join forces with the remnants of the duke’s faction to aggrandize Prince Theodore in this region. Some of the military hard-liners who had caused unrest in the royal capital were on trial, but not all of them. Among the nobility, there were a number of people who had backed Prince Theodore since Queen Amalia’s time. The present situation was volatile. There was no telling what could happen.
There was a good chance that Prince Theodore’s supporters might rally in Kelk and raise the flag of rebellion. His early departure had likely been an effort to avoid that outcome. He didn’t want to be forced into a position that ran contrary to his own will.
When I tried to put myself in his shoes, a thoughtful hum escaped my lips.
“Still...you can never tell what a person’s thinking underneath the surface.”
Nowadays, my life was full of fun and joy, but in the past, I’d been miserable enough to wish misfortune on others. Nobody had only one side to them. People were multifaceted, and it was up to each of us to decide who we wanted to be. There was a front and a back to everything. Were those two separate things, or were they the same at their core? Prince Chris was the one who’d taught me the answer.
As I thought back on the past, a small smile rose to my face. Being in this city really brought back old memories. I drifted off into thought, my lips curling into an even bigger grin. I was in the sort of mood that would have Glen yelling that I looked like I was up to something.
“My first order of business is to say hi to the Master, this city’s shadow boss. I hope the old granny’s doing well.”
The woman in question would have sent me to the pits of the earth if she’d heard me say that.
This was a story from a long time ago—back when I was still just plain old “Alan.”
~.~.~.~
Cheers rang out from a corner of the harbor. There was a street where foreign dancers, bands, entertainers, singers, and musicians all competed to earn the most copper coins. Unlike the polite applause exchanged by the nobility, the ovations that followed each performance were known to be genuine.
I, Alan, answered the rain of applause and copper with the lute I held in one hand. My lips spun the words, “Thank you.”
It was then that a well-dressed man approached me, handing me a shiny silver coin the likes of which I’d never seen before. What he had to say was this: he was the messenger of a certain house he hesitated to name. His master had taken an interest in a child who often sang on the harbor streets, and they wanted to invite me back to their mansion. They hoped to appreciate my singing voice in the comfort of their own home.
The messenger told me that it wasn’t in my best interest to refuse. His master had absolute authority over every inch of the city, from the backstreets to the public squares. In exchange, if the Master took a liking to me, I could have anything I wanted at my fingertips. They could even grant me the power to rule over the entertainment district. We youngsters were always stuck taking a small cut of the grown-ups’ profits; he said that I might just be able to turn the tables.
I didn’t even have to think about my answer. I told him I’d be delighted.
Satisfied with my response, the messenger took his leave. I couldn’t help but chuckle in amusement. So did the other kids who had begun to gather around me.
My ear-to-ear smile said, I’ve been waiting for this.
Three forces ruled over Kelk Harbor. One was, of course, the mayor of the city. He had been personally appointed by the duke—the regional lord—and was apparently also a steward of House Odin. Thus, although he was ostensibly a humble mayor, his true authority and influence were immense. All the more so when he was in charge of a port as large as Kelk Harbor.
Another force was the president of the Maritime Merchants’ Guild. All manner of merchant ships entered and left the port of Kelk; some were owned by the guild itself, while others belonged to the Shipbuilders’ Guild, which only engaged in the repair and manufacture of ships. However, as far as trade was concerned, no vessels other than fishing boats were allowed to set sail without a permit from the Maritime Merchants’ Guild.
Pedestrian merchants braved much hardship and danger to bring their wares to Kelk Harbor, the last stop on the highway, where their cargo was then passed off to the seafaring merchants. Some of the larger trade guilds sailed their own ships abroad, while other merchants chose not to risk the high seas and instead entrusted the sale of their goods to others. And thus were captains- and crews-for-hire born.
The Maritime Merchants’ Guild oversaw the recruitment process. It was a natural outgrowth of the system. In the past, there had been a good deal of violent conflicts between merchants’ guilds and hired captains over their share of the profits. The captains and crews braved great danger to convert the goods into gold and silver. Proud of their contribution, these sailors would demand a better cut of the profits, but the merchants often refused to budge, arguing that a hit to their earnings would threaten the future of their business. On occasion, this would escalate into a small-scale brawl, and so the guild was formed out of a need for regulation.
Kelk Harbor was run by those two big shots, but there was a third force in play that wasn’t known to the public. That was Luwak Street, the slum where I, Alan, lived.