Page 44 of The Infernal Battalion

“I haven’t really gotten a good look,” Raesinia said. She sat up a little straighter. “Can we skip the small talk, please? It has been a long journey, and as I said to His Majesty, time is of the essence.”

“I see.” Fredrick gave a heavy sigh. “Fair enough.”

“You’re Fredrick Goodman, I take it?”

“Humble merchant and one of the Honest Fellows. At your service.”

And possibly the richest man in the world. “His Majesty seemed eager for us to work out the details of your assistance.”

“As to that,” Fredrick said. “My colleagues and I have been in conference with His Majesty since we received word of your arrival. While we of course sympathize with your situation, we agree that there are certain... injustices that must be redressed. Until that happens, Borelgai assistance to Vordan will be more in the character of moral support than anything... tangible.”

Raesinia narrowed her eyes. “What sort of injustices?”

“Financial ones.” Fredrick steepled his fingers. “To put it bluntly, Your Highness, you owe us a great deal of money. The Vordanai crown borrowed heavily from many upstanding citizens of Borel in the period before your father’s death.” His whiskers twitched. “You have my condolences, by the by. Afterward, your new... Deputies declared the debts of the previous government null and void. This was a source of great hardship in Viadre and no doubt contributed to our recent unpleasantness before you and the Duke of Brookspring resolved matters.”

“I’m sure something can be arranged as part of the treaty,” Raesinia said. “But aid must come first. Troops are in the field as we speak.”

“From my position, surely you must see why that seems unwise. Once Janus is defeated, what is to prevent your government from repeating its act of fiscal dereliction?” He shook his head. “No. The Honest Fellows are agreed. A firm pledge on the debt issue must come prior to any assistance.” Fredrick leaned forward, his smile showing yellowed teeth. “You must agree, that’s only reasonable?”

*

“...and you should see the system they have in the commodity pits,” Cora said. “There’s so many people packed in so tight, all shouting at once, that nobody can hear a damn thing. So the pit bosses take orders entirely by gesture. They have a whole language and hand signals, and it’s considered as binding as a paper contract! Can you imagine making an agreement to deliver a million bushels of wheat just by going like this?” She bent her fingers into an L shape and waggled her thumb.

“It’d certainly make me more likely to keep my hands in my pockets,” Raesinia said.

She was only half listening. Cora had been telling her about the wonders of the Viadre markets since she’d returned, and she required little more than the occasional nod to continue her gushing commentary. Raesinia’s mind kept returning to her brief meeting with the king.

I have to see him again. In private this time. Dorsay had been right about Fredrick Goodman. If he really represents the majority of the Honest Fellows, then our only chance is for the king to override them. But—

She became aware that Cora had stopped talking, and blinked. “Sorry. What?”

“I asked if you’d made any progress,” Cora said. “I know you said nothing important would happen today.”

“Honestly, I’m not sure,” Raesinia said. “The king was... polite, but that’s about it. But I met with Fredrick Goodman afterward.”

“What’d he say?”

Cora settled into the heavy leather armchair across from Raesinia while she recounted their conversation. The suite the Borelgai had provided for her use was comfortably furnished, though in the same gloomy fashion as the rest of the Keep, paneled in dark wood and equipped with solid, heavy furniture. Oil paintings of old men in antique costumes stared down from the walls. Eric was already asleep in his room, and Raesinia had insisted that Barely and Jo take some time to rest as well. Cora’s energy, however, was apparently inexhaustible.

“That’s... not going to work,” Cora said, when Raesinia told her about Fredrick’s insistence on the restoration of prerevolution debt.

“I guessed that we wouldn’t be able to afford it,” Raesinia said.

“It’s not that,” Cora said. “I mean, it is that—​we already have more debt than we can really afford—​but it’s not just that. Toward the end of your father’s rule...” She trailed off, blushing slightly.

“You don’t have to dance around it,” Raesinia said with a sigh. “I know he made some bad decisions.”

“It wasn’t really his fault,” Cora said. “Orlanko put Rackhil Grieg in the Ministry of Finance, and everyone knows he was a Borelgai puppet. A lot of the loans the Crown took on his watch were on very unfavorable terms, deliberately, to improve profits for the Borels. The Deputies could never accept them, treaty or no treaty.”

“Wonderful.” Raesinia shook her head. “Let’s hope this is just Goodman’s opening offer. He has to be willing to negotiate—​we may need his help, but he certainly won’t get his money if Janus takes over.”

“I’ll talk to him,” Cora said. “We need to narrow down exactly which loans he’s talking about, and—”

There was a knock at the door. A heavily accented voice, one of the Life Guards outside, called, “A visitor, Your Highness. The second prince.”

Raesinia and Cora raised their eyebrows simultaneously.

“Did he say anything about coming to meet you?” Cora said.