The ship belonged to a haughty merchant, an aged man with a bulbous nose and a piercing stare. The merchant was quite flustered as he addressed the dockhands. "I need a shipwright immediately," he said muttering impatiently until the man was summoned. After some brisk conversation in muddled tones, the merchant raised his voice again. "What was your name again? Archibald? And how soon did you say?"
Archibald, the shipwright, cocked his head. "Three tendays. Well, maybe I could do it in two and a half."
The merchant scoffed. "You expect me to stay here until after the new moon? Do you know who I am? I am Master Wilmerfeld Goffrey, and my time is money. Every day I stay here I am hemorrhaging gold at the market. More than you’d make in several lifetimes. You have within a tenday, at the most. I’ll accept nothing less.”
“But sir, think of yer safety and the crew,” Archibald implored.
“By the depths, why am I taking advice from you? Just find a way to get it done. You’re being paid more than is right by all the scales I’ve seen in Parley.”
The shipwright shrunk back. “Material is hard to come by out here. I need to make a living.”
“So you’re expensive and you’re making excuses? Listen, bilgerat, I’ve tried talking easy with you. If you need, we can have a more in-depth conversation to make things clear.” Mister Goffrey nodded to several men behind him, and Picaro surveyed them for the first time. These were hard nosed salty men, all of them. Picaro thought they could have been Free Men had they not been in Mister Goffrey’s employ. He doubted any conversation with them would go easy.
The shipwright held up his large, weathered hands in surrender. “Listen, I don’t want no trouble. I can do my best, I promise ye, but I can’t guarantee nothing until I’ve had a good look at the ship.”
Mister Goffrey narrowed his gaze. ”Are there no other shipwrights on this wretched island?”
“There are, but I have to say, and not on my own word, but it’s said I’m the best there is in the Squall. I’ve definitely been in business longest, and I see all the big vessels that come to port. Just how it’s been,” said Archibald with a sort of dignified humility. Mister Goffrey ground his teeth and reddened, snorted his indignation and shook his head.
“Fine. Then I expect quick results,” he said before straightening and walking briskly down the dock. A shorter man with a thin mustache hurried beside him, holding an umbrella to cover him from the sun. Picaro watched them go, instantly curious.
Mister Goffrey took up quick residence at the Pearlbow Inn, the nicest inn in town. And by residence, Picaro learned it meant the entire building. Wilmerfeld Goffrey bought out the place and kicked out the innkeeper as part of the deal. The man was paid handsomely for his trouble, but he was not allowed to enter his own establishment until Mister Goffrey and his company lifted anchor from Squal Parlor. That turned into a long while.
What Mister Goffrey demanded be done within a tenday indeed stretched into three. The rudder was badly damaged and needed replacing, and so did one of the main masts. There was also extensive damage below deck, which required much labor, and they came to find out the keel needed repair as well.
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As it neared a tenday Mister Goffrey went to check on Archibald’s progress. He was well displeased, so sent his men to have a conversation with the shipwright. Mister Goffrey’s men made sure to avoid Archibald's eyes and fingers during their 'conversation' so that the man could still hammer a nail. Even so, the shipwright could barely lift the hammer when they were through. He limped to the dock the next morning, but only to oversee that the work was done well. And so Mister Goffrey took up residence at the Pearlbow Inn and did not budge.
Picaro spent the first few days in awe of the ship. The majestic vessel was beached to make way for repair, and the boy marveled at what they must have encountered for it to suffer such terrible injuries. He wondered if it was because of sea monsters, or maybe a crew of Free Men. Maybe captain Coldblue and his crew tried to ransack the ship. But then why would the merchant end up here? Maybe they didn't know Coldblue had been here before, Picaro wondered, and the boy imagined the pirate ship pulling in to port to finish the job, scimitars waving. It made Picaro smile, for Mister Goffrey was a harsh man and his pride was brittle.
When the repairs had been delayed, Picaro noticed the merchant began to drink in quantity. The morning after much drink, Mister Goffrey would often became moody, full of malice. He would sometimes beat his servants or common folk on the street with his cane. He sometimes instructed his men to do the same, and so people began to fear him greatly.
The only man the merchant wasn’t harsh with was his butler, the man with the thin mustache whose name Picaro learned was Edmun, a staunchly loyal and subservient man, and quite intelligent. Edmun was always by his master’s side. He knew his master’s moods and often anticipated his requests. The only time Picaro did not see Edmun standing still as stone behind Mister Goffrey’s shoulder was when the merchant bade his butler run an errand on his behalf. Edmun was like a well-trained dog, Picaro thought, he did as he was told and he did it gladly.
Yet the only thing that seemed to make Mister Goffrey truly happy was money. So to appease his master’s ire and free him from his foul mood while he was stuck in Squall Parlor, Edmun convinced Mister Goffrey to pursue trade.
Mister Goffrey obliged to open his wares, purveying them on a magnificent wooden cart colored green and gilded with gold, whose doors opened to reveal a magnificent display. Arrayed before and behind the purveyor were stacks of well-made shelves supporting goods of all kinds. Beautiful textiles, both patterns and pieces, pottery, small ornate tools, and stacks of rich leather. There were rows of small, glittering gems. Picaro even saw a dagger with a golden hilt. It was a wonderful shifting assortment, and Mister Goffrey seemed to greatly enjoy showing off his collection. It seemed almost entertainment enough to watch the common folk gawk at his unique array of treasures. Those with coin jumped at the chance to purchase even one of the unique and rare pieces to show their wealth and status.
One day, an elderly woman approached the merchant with a silver locket she said had been in her family for three generations. She begged the merchant to give her a fair price for it. “Only if you’re willing, sir. Things have been hard." For a few minutes Mister Goffrey eyed the item then handed it to Edmun, who inspected it with a magnifying glass before handing it back and nodding.
“I’ll give you seven silver for it,” said Mister Goffrey, to which the woman accepted through bitter tears. It was then noted that the merchant was not opposed to buying goods, either. And so people people brought him old heirlooms, freshly made textiles, trinkets and baubles, and Goffrey paid for some. He liked interesting, unique things, Picaro noticed. So money traded hands, and Mister Goffrey continued to entertain himself. He took to staying out in the square until evening where he enjoyed his drink. Torches were lit and people came to revel and hope for coin. Men played instruments and some danced. Drink was poured and toasted with. And so Mister Goffrey made treatise, flaunting his wealth for all to see. He paid more when he was drunk, men whispered.
But the merchant got too drunk all too often, and Picaro noticed his tastes quickly receded to more novel experiences like violence and ridicule. It made the boy angry. What a fool, he thought, all that money and it wasn’t doing anyone any good. Picaro decided he he would do what he could to further lighten Mister Goffrey’s purse. I’d spend it better, he thought. The next day, as Mister Goffrey went out for his morning stroll, nursing his head from drink, he struck a stuck pregnant woman with his cane for stumbling into him. Picaro saw the altercation from a side alley and it made his blood boil.
All that was left to be decided was how.
How it started:
- Samuel O. Ludescher