Brewing Bad Ch. 47-50

Ch. 47 - Party Time

That night, after Gerwin helped Lucas get dressed in his newly obtained finery. At Adin’s suggestion Lucas had gone with the black suit and the ruffled carvat. Lucas didn’t care for the lace cuffs around his wrists, or the way the pants flared around his boots. It made him feel like a sort of well dressed hippie pirate, but Adin assured him that this was indeed the height of fashion for men right now. 

Men didn’t seem to get to wear much color in this society, and Gerwin laughed when Lucas mentioned that he might want to get something that would stand out a little more next time. “You know, red, or maybe blue,” Lucas said, looking at himself in the mirror, “You know, something flashy.”

Gerwin chuckled and added, “That might leave some of the partygoers wondering if you were there for the men or the women, sir.”

“Neither, obviously,” Lucas shot back. “I’m just there for the booze and the coins.”

Ever since he’d paid the old man for the shirt he’d wrecked, they’d largely been on good terms. Lucas wasn’t sure if that was because he was bringing money into the estate on a regular basis or if it was because he mostly kept to himself, but it was probably a bit of both since he really only seemed to care about how Danaria came out in all this. 

After that, Lucas went out to the cider house to decide how best to take what he needed to take with him. He chose to travel light. Adin loaned him an ivory-hilted dagger, which was all he would have as far as weapons went, though he doubted he’d need one. If he got into a fight at a garden party. 

That suited him fine. It just left more room for potions. 

This time, he opted not to bring much with him in the way of protective potions. While Hura’gh mocked him for looking like a stranger, Lucas settled for a Potion of Clear Thinking in case he needed an edge and a smoke bomb in case it all went to shit, along with the healing potion he almost always carried on him. 

Noxious Potion of Camouflage (1 use): Create 30 cubic feet of choking smoke for 10 seconds. 10% chance of nausea. 

Tainted Potion of Clear Thinking (1 dose): Intelligence 3, perception 3, poison 2, 50% chance to cause a nasty headache when the world becomes too clear. 

Tincture of Healing (1 doses): Light healing, euphoria 1, poison 1, endurance +1. 

He couldn’t justify more than that, though. Even carrying three took up nearly a third of his space, just left him 7 vials of blue. Adin suggested that he just fill up a flask and parcel it out that way, but Lucas didn’t like the idea of a bunch of people getting high and passing out at the party and causing a scene. 

He didn’t want to leave an opium den in his wake, and presumably, if he left the men and women he was about to meet with no way to take it home with them, they would try it on the spot. 

Brew of Mana Intoxication (pure) (1 dose): Euphoria 7, poison 2, intelligence -1, mana regeneration decreased by 170% for 1 hour. 

So, instead, he split the baby and brought a small satchel that he’d leave in the carriage. That way, he could re-up as necessary without clinking around the party like a junk salesman. The ruffles and folds were good for that, at least. They hid the lines and bulges of all the little extras he was carrying. 

Once Lucas moved and flexed to make sure that nothing was likely to fall or slip he finally pronounced, “Don’t wait up guys, I’m going to knock em dead tonight!”

“I wouldn’t do that ladie,” the dwarf smiled, “Those are payin customers, we want em alive!”

It took a minute to realize that Kar’gandin was being sarcastic, but that just put a smile on Lucas’s face. He spent several minutes waiting in the foyer for Danaira after that, and when she finally descended, he was left nearly open-mouthed at how pretty she was.

Danaria was always lovely. She was a sweet young woman in her early twenties with a slender body and blond hair. Back on earth all of that would have been ruined by endless Instagram attention, but here she was a hothouse flower that had been sheltered from the travails of the world by her brother and her servants, so her kindness only amplified that.  

Tonight, though, neither her kindness nor her sweetness entered the equation. Instead both were overwhelmed by the diaphenous pink dress that she wore, exposing just a hint of decolitage. It was pretty tame by earth standards, but it bordered on risque in fantasy land, and she walked slowly down the stairs, holding her skirts up just high enough to reveal her slippers, as she walked unsteadily down the stairs. 

“Well, I … Wow, just wow. That’s all I’m going to say on the subject,” Lucas said with a smile as she reached the bottom of the stairs. “You look great, Danny, just… the guys at this party aren’t gonna know what hit ‘em.”

She blushed at the compliment and stood there silently for a moment. He was sure that he was supposed to complement her heavy earrings, or her pearl neckless, or some other detail, but as he searched for the answer, he finally noticed that she’d extended her gloved hand for him to kiss. 

He did so, making her blush a second time, and the silence lingered a moment longer before she managed to squeak, “Thank you. You’re too kind, Lucas.”

Gerwin brought her a light gray shawl that went well with her outfit, covered up her exposed shoulders, and gave Lucas a warning look. After that, the two of them were off. 

The butler didn’t need to do that, of course. Lucas was well aware of how pretty and interested Miss Parin was and had no intention of going there. Never shit where you live, he reminded himself while he helped her into the carriage. 

Unlike their quick trips to Meadowin, this ride was going to be a lot longer. The VanDavin estate was almost as far from the north gate and the Parin Manse was from the east gate, and as a result the two of them would be riding together for almost half an hour each way. 

That wasn’t a problem. He didn’t mind spending time with Danaria at all, even if she looked and smelled nicer than usual. Despite his best intentions, it was impossible not to flirt back with her at least a little, and it was with some relief that he welcomed the topic change to potions, at least initially. 

“This is less pleasure than business anyway, at least for me,” Lucas told her absentmindedly. “You’re welcome to stand around and look pretty and have fun while I do that, though.”

“Adin mentioned that to me,” she agreed. “I could help you know, I don’t know a lot about mana potions, but I could spread the word and—”

“It’s probably best that you don’t,” Lucas said, mentally cursing Adin’s name. Lucas had been very clear with the man to leave his sister out of anything even remotely drug-related, but it would seem he couldn’t help himself. 

“You don’t want my help?” she asked, sounding a little hurt.

“It’s not that,” Lucas answered quickly. “You’ve been very helpful so far. I couldn’t have gotten these clothes together or learned to dance half so quickly without your help. I just… These, uhmmm, mana potions aren’t exactly sanctioned by the Alchemist’s Guild and are pretty illegal, and I don’t want you getting in trouble if something goes wrong.”

“I see,” she said finally. 

He was glad she did because he didn’t. The idea that he could somehow shelter her from things going wrong was pretty laughable, and he half expected her to throw that in his face. He was cooking in her backyard, his brother was his lackey, and he was using her goddamn family name. If there was blow back, it was heading straight for her and everyone she cared about, so asking her to stay out of it at this point was kind of ridiculous. 

His real fear wasn’t that, though. It was that she’d get curious and end up in the same spot as her brother. The very last thing she wanted to do was hook such a kind soul, it was like murdering a butterfly with ether, and much of what made her wonderful would be replaced with a grasping goblin-adjacent junkie willing to do anything for her next fix. 

Lucas knew a number of dealers who had been eager for those sorts of arrangements with pretty young women, but that had never been his thing. Honestly, he thought it was a little creepy. 

As the moment stretched into an uncomfortable silence, he decided to level with her, but only a little bit. “You see, Danny,” he told her, “It’s like this. Mana potions are in high demand amongst mages and even some wild talents, but they’re… well, they’re not good for you. They’re sort of like a poison.”

“If they’re poisonous, then why are you selling them?” she asked, aghast at the prospect. 

“Well, they aren’t poisonous for the people that use them all the time, just for people like you and me that don’t,” Lucas clarified. “At the people that use them, they can get desperate, so you need to stay well clear of both the mana potions and their users, you understand?”

“You’re so sweet!” Danaria said, hugging him, unexpectedly. “Always thinking of other people. I don’t know what my brother and I would do without you and your other friends, I really don’t.”

Well, friends might be a little much, he thought to himself, before he said, “You’re welcome,” instead. 

After that, he managed to veer the conversation into safer territories, and before he knew it, the two of them had arrived at the estate. Of course, he saw the large manor coming up well before they arrived. The VanDavins were apparently much better off than the Parins and their four-story manor dominated the countryside for some distance. 

The grounds were almost as nice, though. The gates were flanked by twenty foot tall topiaries that had been grown to resemble giant horses, and the long gravel drive gave them plenty of time to examine the gathered crowds as well as the paper lantern-lit glower gardens. 

All in all it was very impressive, but as they disembarked their carriage and the driver left them to wait on the far side of the manor, Lucas focused on the details. Nearly everyone had a glass of wine in their hand, and more than a few were drunk already. This was a target rich environment as far as he was concerned, and he would have rubbed his hands together in anticipation if he wasn’t trying to play it cool. 

For the first half hour, Lucas stayed close to Danaria while she made introductions, and he met all the right people. This was one of the few things that Adin would have done a better job with. In her mind the right people meant the rich and powerful, but actually the people he really needed to be talking to were the men with deep pockets and sallow complexions. He needed to be talking to anyone that Adin might have considered a friend. 

Still, he endured. He met their hosts, Mr and Mrs VanDavin along with two of their daughters and one of their sons. They were gracious enough, but it was clear that they considered the Parin’s beneath them, and that Danaria had been invited as some sort of courtesy. 

After that, the opening act of the party was a blur as he was bombarded with the faces and names of well-dressed strangers. He struggled to remember any of them, but it was a losing battle. He met not one but two retired field marshals, which struck Lucas as funny because Lordanin had hardly any army to speak of. He also met three dukes, four viscounts, half a dozen heirs and heiresses, and one duchess in a sea foam green dress that was at least a decade older than him that gave him a particularly hungry look that left him no illusions about how much better she wanted to get to know him as she asked about his adventures in far off places. 

Lucas endured all of that with as much grace as he could muster, even though he could already feel his social battery beginning to wane, before he managed to break away from Danaria to go spend some time with the men, “Just stay with your friends here, and I’ll be back in a little bit. I’ve got some business to take care of.”

“But don’t you want to dance with me first?” Danaria asked sweetly.

“Later,” he promised. “After I’ve had a couple drinks.”

Ch. 48 - Party Time (part 2)

Lucas endured a veritable feed frenzy of introductions and glad-handing as he made his way from the crowded area among the refreshments in the rose garden to the smaller clusters of men and women that were occurring toward the outer edge of the party. As he moved he looked for a likely group or two to get to know better, but most of these knots seemed to contain either men and women that were simply socializing or couples that were sneaking off for a tryst in the hedge maze or somewhere behind the fountains. It took almost ten minutes before he finally smelled something stronger than pipeweed. 

He followed his nose to an alcove that prominently featured the statue of some hero he didn’t recognize. This far from the party proper, he could still hear the music beneath the dull roar of conversation. There were a few paper lanterns even here, done in the checked red and white of house VanDaven, but Lucas didn’t need them to find what he was looking for. He knew what he’d find as soon as he smelled the dank they were passing between them. 

The smell was almost as familiar as the people. It wasn’t so different from weed on earth, and though it was considered an elven drug here, plenty of humans partook. These humans weren’t so different from the potheads he’d known his whole life. Even before introductions were complete, he’d had most of them pegged. They were second sons, disappointments, and burn-outs, the lot of them. 

So Lucas put on his best smile and started making friends, agreeing with every aggrieved statement and passive-aggressive complaint someone offered in his general direction. The only thing he didn’t do was hit the pipe of dank too hard. Oh, he looked like he did each time it came around the circle, but he could smell the pixie dust that someone had laced this shit with, so he pulled a Clinton and only pretended to get blazed. 

Not that anyone was the wiser. Most of this lot was too wrapped up in themselves to see much else, which made them the perfect customers as far as Lucas was concerned. So, he listened to everyone else's complaints while he pretended to have a good time. Lord Barwin thought that there weren’t enough attractive, eligible women at the party and would have much rather been carousing the red-light district. Baronet Melek agreed, but only because he was getting married soon. 

“Pfa, there are more important things than women,” Lord Corrin, sighed. When he was harassed by his friends about what a terrible opinion that was, his only answer was, “I’d trade every woman in my family for one more hit of dusk.”

“Dusk, huh?” Lucas said, finding his opening. “I heard that was a thing here. Burned through Esterbrock a few years ago before people got tired of it. I remember it being okay, but it’s just like Mister… I mean Lord Barwin’s complaint about the girls at this party. There are better choices out there.”

That got a few laughs, but they only held off the inevitable questions. Was he really from somewhere so far away? Why would he travel all the way to Lordanin? If he didn’t think Dusk was that good, what was his drug of choice?

Each of the questions was predictable, and he fended them off in a predictable way. “Why, I’ve come to Lordanin to help my lovely cousin right the ship ever since… well, you know,” Lucas said, happy to throw Adin under the bus for a few laughs and a little street cred. 

There were a couple comments about just how lovely Danaria was, and for a second Lucas felt the urge to throttle the man that had said it, but he mastered the urge and instead pretended that he didn’t hear it before continuing. “As to my drug of choice, well, that would have to be an abiding lust for life.”

Lucas waited a moment for the groans before he pretended to burst out laughing at his own bad joke. “Seriously, though, these days, besides a little dank to help me sleep, I don’t touch anything but Blue, I mean, what would be the point?”

“Blue?” Lord Barwin asked, “What’s that?”

A few others murmured similar questions, but Lord Corrin said. “Yeah, well, good luck with that here. I haven’t seen any of it for sale in the city for weeks now. Like Dusk, it’s gone. Whoever used to make it closed up shop and…”

His words trailed off as Lucas produced a vial as if by magic and held it aloft for all to see. “Supplies in Lordanin have been tight,” Lucas agreed, “But I’ve made my money through trades and traders captains, so I have a pretty good sense of who might be carrying what after I hear where they’ve come from.”

“Perhaps you could introduce me then,” Lord Corrin said, “I’m always interested in making new friends.”

“And Captain Welgin would love to make new friends, I’m sure,” Lucas said, making up a name. “Sadly, he’ll be at sea for half a year or longer before he comes back, but I’m sure, given enough time, someone new will pop in with some fresh supply.”

As Lucas finished speaking he tucked the vial back away in his suit watching Lord Corrin’s hungry eyes follow blue vial until it disappeared. “Do you think that maybe…” the young noble said, trying to figure out the right way to get his fix. 

Lucas had to pretend not to notice, of course, as prepared to move on to other topics and instead listened as another young noble who was pretending to be a tough guy explained why Demon’s Blood was the superior high. It was impossible to pretend to be tough while wearing a crushed velvet doublet or shoes with tips that curved upwards like something out of Santa’s workshop, of course, but the man was too young to know that. 

“Oh, did you want to buy a dose or two?” Lucas said absent-mindedly as if he’d only just noticed the man’s pathetic expression. 

“I mean, if you have some to spare, I’ve only a few dragons on me, but if that’s not enough, surely I can ask one of my brothers for…” The little lord kept talking, but Lucas stopped listening. 

He couldn’t hear anyone over the sound of the dollar signs. Dragons. Plural? He’d always suspected that he’d been able to get more money from the upper class if he could find an in, but a two hundred, three hundred, or even five hundred percent increase seemed like a big step. 

Suddenly, he wished he’d boiled down his last batch to make it even purer. If these dilettantes could afford to throw away such sums on a high, then he should have done everything he could to hook them for life. 

The twinge of regret that followed that thought was small and passed quickly as Lucas leaned forward and smiled. “I think if you consider the cost and the effort that it took to obtain these little vials, you’ll find that three dragons are more than fair.”

For a moment, it looked like Lord Corrin was about to haggle as indecision warred on his face, but when one of his friends said, “Now, just a minute. Three gold coins for any vial seems a bit steep, don’t you think. Surely—”

“I’ll take it. Hells, I’ll take two if you have them,” Lord Corrin interrupted, quickly pulling out his coin purse. 

It was his eagerness that sold everyone else. A moment ago, there had been a mass of skepticism. Now, though, everyone wanted a taste, and why wouldn’t they. Any of their outfits certainly cost more than the entire wardrobe of clothing that Lucas had just obtained. 

The first five actually sold instantaneously, and when it was revealed that he only had two left on him, the bidding war the followed instantly pushed that price to five dragons a pop. Just like that, he’d made twenty-five dragons off of Blue, which was worth perhaps two dragons in his mind. 

He smiled as he made his apologies. “I’m afraid that’s all I have to spare just now, but when I make my way back to my valet, I might have more. I believe I left a dose or two with him just in case, so check back in with me later.”

Lucas didn’t cut and run after that. He hung around for another twenty minutes, making friends and telling ridiculous stories about his adventures to ingratiate himself with these guys, and it was only when their pipe was out, and their glasses were empty that he found other people to schmooze with, well, at least that’s what he did after he picked his way to his coach and restocked his vials. He also had to empty his coin purse out, though he did that by ripping a hole in one of the cushions and stuffing it discreetly in there. 

“I’m going to need to get a lock box for the god-damned coach,” he mumbled to himself. 

Sadly, he didn’t have one, and he felt kinda dumb just leaving so much goal barely hidden like that. So he did the next best thing and paid his driver five silver kings to guard the carriage with his life. It seemed to be a reasonable middle ground. 

At least until an hour later, when he had to come back a second time to dump more gold and pick up his last five vials of Blue. Then he upped his offer to the coachman to a full dragon. “If you try to take my shit and run,” Lucas cautioned, “you will live only long enough to regret it.”

The young man was a long time servant of the Parin’s, and only too happy to get paid to sit there. Word had spread, and people were interested in buying what Lucas was interested in selling. He even sold out his last five vials by the time Danaria finally tracked him down and forced him to the dance floor. 

“Lucas, I can’t believe you left me standing there for almost two hours with those women!” she hissed as she took him by the hand and led him to the carpeted dance floor where people were forming up for what looked to be a line dance, though he was no expert in these things. 

“I told you what I’d be doing tonight,” he whispered back, “and what’s wrong with those women anyway?”

“They wouldn’t shut up about you, that’s what!” she murmured as they took position near the far left side and waited for the band to come back from a short break. 

“Listen, there’s plenty of handsome guys here,” Lucas started to say, “I don’t—”

“No, not that,” she said softly, trying not to laugh. He didn’t blame her even though it stung a little bit. He was far from handsome. “About your reputation, and my brother and everything else. When it comes to the noble women of Lordanin, anything gossip-worthy turns them into a pit of vipers, and I’ve been fending them off all night.”

That’s hardly unique to Lordanin, or even this world, Lucas though ruefiully. He didn’t say that though. He didn’t even think about telling her that she might have had a little too much to drink and was coming dangerously close to slurring her words. 

Instead, he opened his mouth to offer a clever apology and tell her how successful his night was, but as soon as he did so, his words were lost to the music, and he had to suppress a sigh. He couldn’t put it off any longer. He was finally going to have to dance and try not to embaress himself in public.

Ch. 49 - Party Time (part 3)

It turned out that dancing was harder in public, with strangers, than it was in private with a few people you knew well, but Lucas managed. That wasn’t because he did well, of course, but because by this point in the night, there were more than a few people who were getting close to sloppy drunk. 

On another night, Lucas might have joined them, but this evening, he’d been much too busy making cash hand over fist to be anything more than a social drinker. At least here on the dance floor, he wasn’t being pestered by anyone else looking for a fix. 

Who was going to notice Lucas’s missteps or his imprecise hand gestures when old Baronette Ruthrin had to leave the floor to vomit, or the Lady of Classton moved a bit too quickly, and her loosened corset didn’t quite follow, leading to an embarrassing wardrobe malfunction for the poor widow.

These things were apparently not uncommon at this stage of these parties, though, because everyone seemed to take them in stride. Even the Prince of Lordanin laughed as he moved by Lucas on the dance floor. The heir to the kingdom didn’t even look twice at Lucas as he glided past. He was much too busy checking out the eligible young ladies. 

That’s my nemesis? Lucas thought after his brief chance to finally study the man. He seemed like a pompous, venal fuckboy, which he almost certainly was. 

That put things into better perspective for Lucas. Clearly, the Prince wasn’t the threat that he’d thought he was. Which meant what? Did he have a canny captain of the guard? Maybe a particularly cutthroat adviser? 

It certainly wasn’t the King himself. Everyone knew that the old man was just clinging to life and being made comfortable. In a land of magic and healing potions, Lucas imagined that the rich could be made to keep breathing for a good long time, but as far as he was concerned, that was no way to live.

Through all the strutting and stomping and clapping as the band played on, Lucas kept an eye out around the edges of the gathering looking for candidates that might be the real power behind the throne, but he saw none. Despite that, the only time he took a break from that activity was when he was paired with a particularly pretty woman. 

Danaria certainly qualified in that department. There were a few other women that caught his eye, but every time her smiling face and her tight body circled around him he was instantly distracted enough to miss a step or too. Those moments were always followed by the inner reminder that she was definitely off limits, but there were a few other women he wouldn’t mind getting lost in the hedge mazes with for an hour or two. 

Besides the pretty Miss Parin in pink, the woman that most caught his eye was a dark-haired beauty in a red dress. She was at least a decade older than Danaria, but that did nothing to rob her of her imperious beauty. 

Lucas wasn’t the only one to think so, obviously, but given the amount of attention she was receiving from the other men, he was fairly sure there was more to her than her busty figure. She had to be rich, or powerful, or both. He wasn’t sure, but he would believe either. The one time he ran into her on the dance floor toward the end as partners swapped and twirled around each other, she simply looked right through him and smirked. 

It was like she instantly knew he was a pretender, which made him even more interested because, so far, no one else had even hinted he might belong. Not the guys he’d been dealing with, not the other women he’d been dancing with, and not even the Prince had given him a hint that they might know who he was. 

It was enough to pique his interest in more than just her bust, but there was no way to approach her once the song finally finished. Not only was she hobnobbing amongst the Dukes and the Prince, but no sooner did the music end than a red-faced Danaria sought him out and clutched at his arm. 

“Wasn’t that fun?” she asked, tearing him away from any attempt he might have made to get the mystery woman’s attention. 

“Fun isn’t exactly what I would call it,” Lucas said with a shrug, “But it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be.”

“As bad as you thought it would be!” she laughed. “Lucas, this is a grand time. We really must get you out more. Someday, when our manor is restored, we’ll be expected to host a party of our own, and you must be able to play the consummate host by then!”

Lucas dreaded that idea, but then she was probably right. If they wanted to burnish the Parin name and continue to attract wealth and power, not to mention make connections and recruit underlings, that’s exactly what they’d have to do. 

Maybe if I’m to host, I won’t have to dance, he thought optimistically. I can just stand at the gate, and great people then adjourn to a smoke-filled back room to do the real work while people like her and Adin make friends. 

She led him to one of the refreshment tables, where each of them had another glass of champagne, and then began to quiz him, pointing out different members of the crowd and asking who they were and why they were important. 

Lucas probably only got two in ten right, but it did an excellent job of underlining her point. If he was expected to move among these people and spread his very profitable poison, he would have to work harder on getting to know them. 

That’s how they spent the remainder of the evening. They stood there for another half an hour as Lucas watched people slowly slip away from the party while those that remained got drunker and drunker. During all that time he learned that the pretty woman in red was the Lady Skylara, and though Danaria wasn’t quite sure why she was important, she was fairly sure that she was related to the royal family in some way. 

“Not in the line of succession, though,” she corrected hastily. “Ssshe’sss like an aunt or a cousssin or sssomething. I hardly ever hear any drama about her.”

Danaria was getting drunk, too, and after one too many slurs, he decided it was time to get her back to her house before she turned into a pumpkin. So, the two of them said their goodbyes, and thanked the hosts, and eventually returned to their carriage. 

Lucas was pleased to see the carriage was still there when he arrived, and even more pleased to see that their driver was still breathing and hadn’t run off with his cash. Paying the man a golden dragon was more than worth it given that he’d been guarding so many others. 

“What’s your name,” Lucas asked him after he finished poring Danaira into the carriage. 

“Mort, sir,” the man said. 

He wasn’t much. He was a little younger than Lucas, maybe, but there was nothing special about him. Physically, at least, he did seem to have a rare combination of loyalty and balls, though, and Lucas could use a few more like him. 

“Well, Mort, how’d you like to do some more work for me on a regular basis, I mean?” Lucas asked. 

“Aren’t I already doing that?” Mort asked as he handed Lucas back his dagger. 

“Yeah, I guess you are, aren’t you,” Lucas agreed. “but I mean like deliveries too. You stepped up tonight, and I appreciate that.”

“Of course, whatever you need…” the man nodded. His words trailed off as he looked at the dagger that Lucas was putting back on his belt. “Well, maybe almost anything…”

“Relax, Mort,” Lucas smiled. “I don’t want you killing people. I mean, you need to know how to fight, but there's a big difference between a cold-blooded killer and a capable driver.”

The man nodded at that, and then Lucas got into the carriage, and sat there with Danaria on the way home. She spent the first half of the ride alternating between gently haranguing her for leaving her all alone and telling him how much fun she had. 

She only asked above why one of the cushions was so lumpy once, but Lucas played it off, and the view of the city at night distracted her instead. 

“It’s so pretty at night, don’t you think?” She said, leaning just a little closer than necessary as she reached past him to point at the nighttime lights of Lordanin as they road not so far from the walls back toward the east. 

Lucas turned and looked. He agreed with her, but really, the view was lost on him. After you’d seen a modern city lit up by electricity, the dim glow stones and lanterns of a place like this barely rated to him. 

When he turned back around, she was right there, and he could have definitely kissed her if he wanted, but he pretended not to notice and let the moment pass as he leaned back in his seat. Kissing a business partner’s sister was a terrible idea, but doing it when she was drunk was orders of magnitude worse. 

She seemed not to notice and settled for laying her head on his shoulder after another moment or two. She was out like a light after that, and when they finally arrived home, a little before two, Lucas carried her upstairs and handed her off to her maidservants, who looked like they’d just woken up to take care of their mistress’s homecoming. 

After that, he took his pillow full of gold and walked back to the cider house to get some shut-eye before he told everyone how great things had gone. 

On his walk, he noticed just how shabby the Parin Estate looked compared to the place he’d just been. Even the main house was barely as nice as the VanDavin’s servant’s quarters. The fence, too, was neither decorative nor defensive. If they were going to get serious, they had a lot to get serious about, and Lucas decided that he’d talk to Adin and Kar’gandin in the morning. 

He went to bed fully dressed and lay there thinking about the piles of gold they were going to make. He couldn’t believe how wrong they’d been going about all of this. They’d been fishing for pennies in the gutter when they should have been shooting for the stars.

Ch. 50 - Getting Serious

In the morning, Lucas told his crew the news between mouthfuls of ham steak and piping hot biscuits. Adin kept asking about irrelevant details like who was there with whom or what the lady of such and such was wearing. Lucas tried to answer the first couple of times, but when he realized that each answer would only lead to more questions, he ended that topic by grabbing his cushion sack and dumping it out in the center of the table between the four of them.

“None of that matters. You know why? Because we’re rich, bitch!” Lucas declared. 

That caused a momentary lull in the conversation, but after that, there was a storm of questions. Lucas just smiled and let them pass over him. 

“How many of those vials did ye take with ya lad?” Kar’gandin asked. 

“Who’d you kill for all this scratch?” Hura’gh bellowed. 

Adin asked a number of questions about who bought and how much they paid. By the end, though, he was sputtering and simply sat there staring.

Lucas told them all about the long, strange trip to 69 dragons with 17 vials of blue, but when he told them what a nice number that was, no one got the joke. 

“I kann’a believe you gave yer coachman a whole dragon just to watch yer purse!” Kar’gandin growled when Lucas got to that point, but when he calmed down he saw that it made sense. 

After that, it became less about the money and more about what they needed to do to safeguard and make more of it. Getting a strong box for the carriage and a few full-time guards for the house were the first order of business, of course, but when Lucas started talking about planting some sagethorn hedgerows around the perimeter of the estate, Adin drew the line. 

“Sagethorn is very low class,” he insisted, “It’s a weed and an ugly one at that.”

“Are you even listening?” Lucas asked. “This is your house, man. That’s your sister I went to a party last night with. I sold drugs under your name. I made sure to tell everyone that I was sold out until the next ship came in, so nothing bad is going to happen tomorrow or anything, probably, but the minute one of those rich boys gets a craving or runs low on cash, we’re going to have problems.”

“Yes, well—” Adin started to answer, but Lucas cut him off.

“But someday, someone is going to dime us out to the powers that be or make a run at us,” Lucas continued willing away thoughts about how long it was going to take the Whisperers to track him down after this. “So while hiding the lab is a start, we got a shit load of other things to do if you want to see this through. This place has to become a fortress.”

Of course, it had to be a nice looking fortress, with discretely hidden guards, and defenses disguised as ornamentation. It had to be both functional and impressive, because he’d put out a lot of vials last night, and later this week half a dozen of those guys were going to send him calling cards to invite him to lunch or stop by with offers of going into business together and a thousand other things.

The four of them spent the next half hour arguing as they hashed out their to do list. At the top of it was finishing the new lab, and returning the cider house to some modicum of usefulness. While that was being worked on, Hura’gh would go recruit half a dozen warriors looking for work. Lucas was vaguely concerned that this would end up with a whole gang of orc bloods running the show, but for the time being that wasn’t his focus. 

He and Kar’gandin were going to have to go talk to some local artisans. They’d been planning to buy a glassblower’s shop, or at least an interest in one. Now they were going to have to add a blacksmith to that list at least, along with more laborers and various artisans. 

After all that, Lucas could feel all the money he’d made last night slipping further and further away as they added up the costs associated with each activity. By the time they finished all the necessary investments all of that was going to be gone, and that was after they decided, in a vote of three against one that the purely cosmetic improvements should be paid for by Adin’s share. 

“How am I supposed to buy my way back into the Prince’s good graces by paying off my back taxes if you spend all my money on painting the manor and hiring gardeners?” the noble asked plaintively. 

Lucas ticked another check mark next to the category in his mind labeled ‘Viscount’s ever-changing story’ but didn’t call him on it. He’d mentioned unfair taxation and dredging rights before along with his sister, but back taxes were a first, and Lucas decided to dig a little further into that when the two of them were alone.

 For now, he just had the noble do what he was best at: write missives so that Lucas could do more important things. The Viscount wrote five letters when all was said and done, soliciting a bid for services in the fancy way that only a member of the court could do. He wrote one to the iron works to query about the costs of wrought iron fencing, two to importers asking for bids on a number of necessary reagents, one to the carpenters union for the coming major repairs, and one to the brickmaker's guild, because now that they had all this money they certainly weren’t about to dig up the whole damn riverbed themselves again for all the upcoming projects. 

While he did all that, Kar’gandin was beneath the cider house and as soon as he’d given his men instructions on where to dig and put up shoring, he and Lucas were off to Meadowin. “How much longer do you think it’s going to take to get the lab where we need it to be?” Lucas asked as their feet crunched on the gravel of the front walk. 

More than anything, he suddenly felt exposed, and he’d like to have everything hidden pretty quick. At least, plausably. True secrecy with secret passages, and maybe even illusion magic could come later.

“I mean, ye could cook down there tomorrow if ye like,” the dwarf mused, stroking his chin, “I figure we’ll have ourselves a working chimney by then, though if ye want to wait for stone floors to keep the dust down, that will take a bit longer I suppose.”

The dwarf listed off all the things that still needed to be done on his stubby little fingers, and the longer he went on, the more concerned Lucas got. “A month?” he demanded finally when the dwarf was done. “That’s an awful long remodel, man. What do we have to do to speed that shit up?” 

“I said two weeks to a month, ladie, and really, we can’t do much more than that,” Kar’gandin answered with a shrug. “Ye can only fit so many people down there working. I suppose we could hire more bodies and work 'em in shifts, but I ain’t sleeping through that racket, I can tell you that!”

When they reached the village, Lucas was surprised to find that more than one person waved at him or called him by name as they wished him good morning. It was confusing but not unpleasant. 

They met with the blacksmith, Mr. Hardeson, and though he wasn’t amenable to being bought out, he was happy to prioritize whatever they needed done on account of all the good they’d done for the village to date. Fortunately, Kar’gandin had brought a list that included everything from nails and hinges to locks and swords. 

The blacksmith insisted a few of the items were beyond him, but only the complex mechanical workings. After that, they went to the next village over, and after a little haggling, they convinced the glassblower to leave his run-down shop behind and come and work for them. Kargandin promised to have a new shop built to his specifications on the Parin grounds within a single season. 

The only sticking point came when they got around to discussing what it was he’d actually be making. “So, you don’t want jugs or bottles, but vials and flasks?” the man asked, confused. “Do you mind if I ask what for exactly?”

“Well, in addition to cider, we plan on producing healing tinctures for the masses,” Lucas said, playing the philanthropist. “Health has reached an unprecedented low, especially in the poorer parts of the country and the city slums. I am to correct that with a… revitalizing tonic! Truly a miracle cure, but every patient will need only a tiny amount, so we must make the bottles very small.”

The man seemed unconvinced but nodded anyway. He didn’t seem to care what he made so long as he got paid, and when Kar’gandin had started to discuss volume requirements, the glassblower had struggled to keep a straight face. Even with a serious discount, this dude was going to make bank. 

After that was complete, Lucas hired a number of village boys a copper bushel basket a piece to run the messages Adin had prepared to all of the various offices in the trade quarter. The dwarf accused him of overpaying, but Lucas was glad to do it. 

“I’d rather send massagers at a silver king a pop rather than walk by another guard holding a wanted poster of me,” he told Kar’gandin. “At a copper apiece, it's a damn bargain, is what it is. As far as I’m concerned, we should open a damn messenger service with them. That’s what we should do.”

“Well, if ye want to run deliveries of Blue with the wee lads, I ain’t going to stop ye, but a copper a run is too damn much,” the dwarf cursed. “It should be no more than a third of that!”

The dwarf’s words stunned Lucas into stopping for a moment as they walked back down the dirt road toward Parin Manor.  “Let’s get one thing straight,” Lucas said as he started walking again. “We aren’t getting kids involved in this. No way, no how. It’s just wrong.”

“That’s a fine notion,” Kar’gandin said, “But didn’t you just get them involved? Paying them in drug money to perform a task that will lead to more drug sales seems involved to me.”

“What?” Lucas practically shouted. “Running a message for some petty cash isn’t involved.”

“What about paying them to pick mushrooms?” the dwarf asked, “Would that be involved? How about delivering empty vials or notes about when and where a deal was going to go down. Maybe—”

“Fine,” Lucas grumbled. “I get it, okay?”

“You just tell me where connected and unconnected gets,” Kar’gandin shrugs, “Because if everything goes to hell I’m taking my 47 dragons, 18 kings, and 9 bushels, and going right back to the clanhold. Ye should do the same, o’ course, but for some reason, I get the feeling ye’d actually try to stay and fight.”

“Hey, we’re building something here,” Lucas said defensively. “You’ll see when those nobles come crawling for another dose or two. We can get all the gold we want. We can probably get more than gold too. It’s just a matter of figuring out who’s good for what.”

They debated those points all the way home, but at no point did Kar’gandin convince Lucas that he had anything but a big ole lump of coal where his heart should be.