The Calamitous Bob

. Nothing tried to fight them this time despite the smell of blood and they soon left loaded with meat. Viv took the time to go back up and find a cistern for a quick cleanup. Some of the blood had already congealed and it was a bitch getting it out of her jaw-length hair. She went back down with a new set of five guards and Farren and the rest of the trip to the Yries base was less eventful.

They followed markers down the pit, stone statues with inscriptions in a strange script that reminded Viv of Cuneiform. The Yries used them to orient themselves in the labyrinthine, cavernous depths. One marker eventually pointed to a side tunnel which had clearly been repaired and reinforced. The square, clear path led them further through the mountains until they turned into a circular Yries-made passage. A couple of hours was enough to reach a boundary-fort where they requested entrance by way of waving their hands around. A small male Yries let them in and it was not long before the reigning pair came to receive them. Lak-Nak the female stone weaver still looked nervous, barrel-like form hidden behind bulky robes. Meanwhile the warchief Gar-Gar looked at them with undisguised suspicion. The two, Viv realized, were taller than her, which was fairly uncommon.

The male spat something in their guttural language and Lak-Nak translated in Enorian with clear hesitation. They were… not really good at hiding their emotions.

“Gar-Gar says you want to renegotiate the terms of our agreement.”

Ah, yes, he did mention humans being duplicitous. Farren gave Viv a tiny nod. She considered her approach. With those, it was probably better to be honest.

“We don’t want to change the agreement. We want a new one for different things.”

Technically the truth since the previous arrangement concerned iron ingots, ready for processing. This time they wanted weapons.

Lak-Nak and Gar-Gar talked in their strange language again, blinking their owl-like eyes in a way that would be comical if Viv was not currently surrounded by loaded crossbows.

“Gar-Gar asks if the new agreement alters the old agreement.”

“Listen, we want to buy weapons for money.”

There were numerous interruptions since Viv had been selected as the spokesperson for the human side and did not speak Baranese while Gar-Gar was the spokesperson for the Yries side and did not speak Enorian. It did not help that the big stone-weaver was as shy as a blushing maiden and apparently deathly afraid of confrontation while her boss smelled a fish and asked pointed questions.

“Yries do not sell their weapons to humans.”

“We want you to manufacture some for us, not give us your crossbows.”

“No weapons.”

“I understand that you do not wish to give us any weapons. May I ask why?”

“We find… humans…. treacherous… andwedonotwishtoforgethebladethatwillkillus, sorry!”

Blunt.

“Armors?”

“We would sell armors. Gar-Gar wants to know why you need armors.”

“Other humans have taken our city and driven us out. We want to take it back.”

This led to a long exchange and the expected reaction.

“So you do not wish to honor your previous agreement.”

“We want to. We were chased from our homes so we cannot. We are angry about that. If we can return home, we will honor the original agreement. Right now, we cannot.”

The warchief grumbled and searched Viv’s face with great efforts, as if it could allow him to detect lies. He pointed a gangly finger towards Viv's solar plexus with the intention, perhaps in an intimidation attempt. Viv considered how to react but needn’t bother.

“Squee! HSSSSSS!”

The intimidation attempt was quickly aborted. Gar-Gar grumbled but he relented and Arthur settled protectively on Viv’s lap, glaring at the offender with malevolent crimson eyes. Viv patted the small dragon’s spine ridge. It was very warm.

“The agreement was food for iron. You have not delivered the iron yet so you have no right to ask us for food,” Viv said, striking the iron while it was hot. “Tell him I said that.”

Lak-Nak translated and the warchief grudgingly agreed. Viv could not believe how easy it was.

“If Gar-Gar really wants that food, he can make a deal with us. We are not even asking something for nothing. I said that we will pay.”

Some more grumbling.

“Gar-Gar asks if it’s money now or money later.”

In answer, Viv grabbed the chest that the banker had sent to her the night after Kazar fell and banged it on the table. She opened it to reveal rows of golden ingots. It was a very old-school gangster moment and made Viv feel all fuzzy inside. They were just missing Robert de Niro giving the Yries warchief a stare.

“This is the money now.”

The stoneweaver grabbed one of the ingots and whispered a few words. Viv felt brown mana at work. A few ingots were tested and the pair conferred in a low voice.

“Gar-Gar offers thirty basic iron armors. Helmet breastplate pauldrons gauntlets greaves. One per gold talent.”

It might be a steal, Viv thought. It sounded like a steal.

“How basic are we talking?”

“Like the young males wear but without chain mails. You wear clothes or gambeson.”

It was a steal. The armors were pretty decent, though they would not stop a direct blow with how strong the average soldier was on this fucking planet. It would still help with glancing blows. And twenty-five iron bits were around a kilogram of metal so a gold talent was around… two hundred bits so that meant that a single gold talent was worth eight kilograms of iron. Those armors were definitely more than twice as heavy, and it was not even counting compensation for the work. On the other hand, the Yries could just bend down and pick up rich ore around here so their costs were down while gold was always valuable for trading.

They went back and forth for a while and settled for thirty armors, and thirty shields. There would be six more free armors if they could provide a large supply of skin to make leather with.

“Hold on, how do you get leather down here?” Viv asked, suddenly suspicious.

“You don’t want to know,” Lak-Nak answered. She didn’t have to consult her partner this time.

Viv thought for a few seconds and decided that, yeah, nah, she really really didn’t want to know. In any case, it was time for the main event.

“There is something else I need from you.”

She exposed her idea.

“Absolutely not,” Lak-Nak said, “out of the question. We will not give you one of our drills.”

“Not giving, renting. It will also be piloted by one of your own.”

“What is renting?”

“It means we have it for a fixed time. Here the fixed time is: until we have used it to breach the walls of Kazar. Then your driver takes it back.”

The pair discussed. Gar-Gar waved his slender arms around in shock and dismay, then more questions came.

“You don’t want to copy the designs?”

“I mean, I’m curious but not that curious. Besides, there is no way for us to reproduce the design here, and it would really hurt our chances if we mess up. I really want to dig through that wall.”

“And you would return it, just like that?”

“Yes. Your pilot will drive it back.”

“It is not designed to operate above ground.”

“The point is never what the tool is designed to do but what it can achieve.”

“Hmm. You are annoyingly correct in this instance. But you have no more gold. What could you possibly offer for this service.”

“I have silverite.”

More specifically, the silverite used for the Harrakan golems, the very same she had dragged across half the deadlands as skis under her sled.

Lak-Nak’s jaw practically crashed on the ground. She turned to the warchief and spoke in excited tones and it was absolutely obvious that Viv would have that drill.

“How much? How much silverite do you have?”

“Four measures.”

That was one ski, but considering that each ski was worth four hundred gold talents in human nation if it could be found at all, she was certain that her argument was convincing.

“I won’t give you more than half a measure for that though.”

“I need two measures. Two measures to make my staff. We can talk.”

“You can make a staff out of silverite?”

“Yes. With a core on top, it will allow me to store reserves of energy with almost no loss. And I can enchant it as well.”

It was all Viv could do to school her face. Solfis’ eyes flashed.

“Squee?”

“Shh.”

Viv gave a diplomatic smile as the stoneweaver argued with the warchief. Vehemently.

It was time to put the nail on the coffin.

“You can tell the warchief that it is also in his interest as well if we take the city back. Beyond the food questions, there is also the matter that our enemy will not stop there.”

Well, he would for at least a season, possibly a year, but there was no need to tell them that.

“His name is Prince Lancer and he is greedy beyond measure.”

It was such an amusing moment to see the two owl-like beings freeze in their tracks.

“What did you just say?” Lak-Nak blurted, angry for the first time.

“I said that our enemy could come here next…”

“No, not that. His name.”

“Prince Lancer.”

An eruption of squawks and grunts came from not just the pair, but the other Yries as well.

“Why did you not say so sooner?”

Because you would have been suspicious.

“I was not aware that you knew him,” Viv lied.

“We will help you but we will not send soldiers. You will have your drill. You will have ten more armors. We will give you twenty crossbows as well, simple but efficient models. You will give us two measures of silverite.”

“You make a rod for me with the remaining two, you provide instructors for the crossbows and help us adjust the armors, you give us forty heavy spears, fully made out of iron. You modify the drill so that it can move fast enough to keep up with us. You help us get a reliable water source on our side of the mines. Solfis?”

The golem dropped the ski, tantalizingly close. Lak-Nak elbowed her boss, who nodded.

“We say that you have yourself a deal.”