Hadiin

Hadiin woke up in bed, in a very small room that he’d rented at a very cheap inn in Belleville’s poorer area. The room was above stables, where he’d lodged his horse, and it was the work of the stable boys and the sounds of horses that had likely woken him, not long after dawn.

He rolled over and felt the stray from the mattress poke through the sheets. The pillow, filled with what felt like dry beans, was not actually as uncomfortable as he’d thought it would be. Still, the room was a far cry from the one he’d stayed in last night.

Fewer thieves and assassins though. And he wasn’t on death’s door. Big wins already!

Determined to be positive about his situation, or at least his future, he got out of bed and put on the clothes he’d bought yesterday after separating from Lucia: a shiny, emerald-green shirt with loose sleeves and billowy, white pants. He no longer looked like a murder victim. Another win!

True, the shirt was loud and nothing at all like he’d wear back home, especially while working in the Amaze-Ex warehouse. But he liked how colourful the shirt was. He liked how the green and white colours reminded him of his heritage, an idea of what rich people in ancient Egypt might have worn. And he wasn’t on Earth anymore, he was in a fantasy world and he would do what he liked from now on, thank you very much.

A little wax in his mustache curled the ends to a fine point. He’d replaced his sneakers with simple leather sandals as the former did not go with his new outfit. They also gave him away as coming from place with very different technology and he thought it best to blend in.

As he dressed, he recalled his parting words with Lucia yesterday.

The healing potion and his blood had restored her in the alley. Buying clothes from a homeless man, she’d put them on over her outfit as a disguise. “Well I don’t want to be recognized dressed like this in broad daylight, do I?”

“Right. Of course.” He’d chided himself for not thinking the same.

“I’m going home. You should find yourself somewhere new to stay. Somewhere cheap. I doubt you can afford Oystas anymore.”

“I’ll find something,” he’d assured her. “How will I get in contact with you?”

“You won’t. I’ll find you.”

“Right. Secret identity.”

“Get some rest. And figure out what you’re going to do with yourself. I’m not going to partner up with a deadbeat loser. You said you’re a merchant. So go find some way to make money.” She’d moved to the end of the alley. “Hopefully in an ethical manner. If we’re going to be working together, I’d prefer it if you found a business that helps people, not feeds off of them.”

“Yes. Yes, of course.” That hadn’t been a bad idea at all.

She’d spoken as she’d checked the street outside the alley, preparing to leave. “Unless your plan is to feed off the nobles and rich people. That’s fine.”

“Like selling luxuries. Hmm. Excellent thought. There’s a much higher profit margin in selling to people who want to spend lots of money. I wonder what kind of luxuries they have in this world.”

She’d turned back to him and frowned. “Say what?”

“Nothing,” he’d quickly covered up his mistake. “Just thinking I need to do some market research.”

“Right…” She’d given him an odd look, then softened her expression. “Listen, I do hope that this works out. Like I said, it would be nice to have someone else I can trust with my secret. And to be part of a team. Being what I’ve become,” her eyes met his, “I’m putting a lot of trust in you. My life is in your hands. Please don’t tell anyone about me.”

“I would never,” he’d promised, meaning it. “Cat.”

Her lips had curled up. “One secret at a time, shall we?” With a nod, she exited the alley.

His thoughts returning to the present, he hoped he’d see her again soon. It would also be a very good idea to figure out what he was going to do about Marian. The idea of losing her made his chest squeeze unpleasantly. At the very least, he needed to apologize properly. Even if she didn’t want to continue working with him, he owed her that.

Breakfast at this inn, included with the rental of the room, was a tiny slice of ham, one egg, and all the potato hash browns that he could eat. He looked in on his horse and double-checked that his wagon was all right. Then he set off for Market Street. Lucia was right, he needed to come up with something to do next.

Walking the awakening streets of Belleville in the fresh morning air, the sun rising in the east, he could admit that he’d reacted badly to the attack with Marian. He’d gotten down, taken a hit. But he wasn’t going to let it keep him down. He needed to get back on his feet.

We constantly encounter both chances and misfortune throughout life. A true merchant took setbacks and disasters in stride and was constantly on the lookout for new opportunities. Sure, he’d lost a fortune the other night. But he wasn’t dead. He’d made a mistake but had learned from it. And as long as he learned from his mistakes, then he could consider any money lost to be an investment in himself. Now it was time to make something of that investment.

Market Street was bustling. Most stalls on both sides of the wide street were filling up with sellers of one kind or another. It was Friday and it looked like some were setting up for a weekend rush, when most citizens coming in from smaller settlements probably did their shopping.

He saw plenty of raw materials for sale and tried to think of something that he could make. He saw trinkets aplenty and understood that a thriving craft and artisan community already existed in this region. No doubt the city had far more as well. So whatever he came up with on his own, it would have to somehow be of better quality than what already existed. This was unlikely given his lack of skills. Could he think of something new?

But what new product or service could he come up with? He’d done it with ice cream but that had been chance as much as anything, coming across the cryo slime. If only he had explored the area around Belleville and the town he’d appeared in, he might have some knowledge of what he could use for natural resources. He knew of mint but there was only so much you could do with that.

The more he walked, the more he saw of the marketplace and the easier it was to see that this was an established commercial center. Most niches had long ago been filled. Thus it was easy to lose heart the longer he explored. New ideas weren’t jumping out at him and neither could he easily spot any easily exploitable opportunities.

It then followed that he began to think a little too much of how Lucia might feel if couldn’t come up with something profitable. He recalled Marian’s disappointment in him as well and together his self-confidence started taking another hit. Despite his earlier promise to himself to remain optimistic about his future, he became rather glum by the time he’d turned around at the end of Market Street and made his way back to the center of it.

He was just nearing the Merchants Guild when he stepped out of the way of oncoming shoppers and stumbled face-first into a large body that didn’t move a millimetre in the collision, causing him to rebound instead. Hadiin looked up and an apology froze in his throat.

Weesely’s surprised expression turned smug. “Well, well. If it isn’t the former ice cream king.”

Hadiin saw the glint in the man’s eyes and the pair of goons backing him up and tried not to quail. Was it just his imagination or was Weesely even bigger today? A very unwelcome feeling of inferiority descended and Hadiin had no desire to remain in the man’s company, trading barbs and wishing he didn’t feel so small. He summoned up his courage to reply, “‘Morning,” then turned and tried to move away.

One of the goons nonchalantly got in his way.

“What’s this? Ain’t got time for a fellow man of the coin?” Weesely asked in a mocking tone.

Hadiin tried to go the other direction and found that way blocked by the other mercenary. He glared up at Weesely, his fear prompting him to lash out in anger. “What is this? Haven’t you done enough sending your assassin after me?”

“Assassin?” He badly pretended to be surprised.

“Or is your ego so pathetic that you go out of your way to kick a man after you’ve knocked him down and stolen everything from him?”

“Knocked down? Me? Why, I haven’t knocked anyone down. Yet.” He smirked knowingly. Then leaned closer. “I would be happy to do so, however.”

Hadiin’s anger rose, bright and hot. “Big tough guy surrounded by hired help. How about you give me back the money you stole and then you and your goons go to hell?”

“Oh my!” Weesely laughed in real amusement. “Look at the guts on this guy. Perhaps I misjudged you.” He looked thoughtful. Then he placed a heavy hand on Hadiin’s shoulder. “Ah, let’s not fight. I think we got off to a bad start. And I admit, it was my fault, pressuring you to sell me that recipe at your stall.”

The sudden complete change in attitude threw Hadiin. It checked his anger and he wasn’t sure how to respond.

“What’s done is done and today is a new day.” Weesely steered Hadiin towards a side street, oddly cheerful. “Let’s put the past behind us, shall we? We’re merchants, are we not? Let’s the two of us have lunch and see if we can’t have a more profitable encounter, hmm?”

Hadiin didn’t really have much of a choice. Trying to break free of the man’s arm across his shoulder would be akin to moving a mountain. The two thugs were still there as well. So he allowed himself to be steered down the street and into a small restaurant, where he was seated across from Weesely. The security pair remained on the street.

Lunch was impressive and expensive given how much was ordered. Weesely was a man with a big appetite. “Don’t sweat it. Bill’s on me. My way of squaring things.”

Squaring things? He’d sent an assassin! But Hadiin didn’t bring that up. He’d been worried about Weesely sending someone to finish the job after learning of Hadiin’s survival. If the man was willing to change his tune, then Hadiin should do what he could to no longer be a target. He said little and ate well.

Weesely continued to appraise him over the meal. “That ice cream idea was really something. Even better was how you handled it, with that auction and all.”

“Thanks. But I’m not giving you the recipe. No offence, but something tells me if I did, from the look of that woman and how much money she paid, the next assassins to come after me might not bungle the job.”

“Assassin. I heard about that. Good thing you survived, eh? The girl did too, I hope?”

Hadiin tried not to sigh and played along. “Yes.”

“Good, good.” He sipped from a tall glass of ale. “Glad you’re ok. So, here’s what I’m thinking.” He put the ale down and leaned one elbow on the table, becoming serious. “If you can come up with one idea like ice cream, I’ll be you can come up with more. I’ll bet you’re full of interesting business ideas, aren’t you?”

“You flatter me.” Actually, he’d just spent the last couple of hours fretting about not being able to think of something new. Best not relay that though. Besides, he should probably give himself more than two hours to figure out his next move.

“Here’s the deal.” He reached into a bag of holding and withdrew a red, cloth pouch. “I heard they took your money last night. Must have put you in a sore spot. So I’ll restore your lost fortunes right here and now. From the pouch, he drew five shiny, silver-like coins and put them in front of Hadiin.

Hadiin stared. A gold coin was about three times the size of a silver coin. These were even bigger.

“Platinum,” Weesely explained. “Each worth one hundred gold.”

Hadiin swallowed, his mouth going dry. This wasn’t just restoring his fortunes, it was doubling it. The man didn’t know he’d given half to Marian. “Why?” he asked.

“You take this and get back on your feet. In exchange, you come work for me. I don’t mean as a regular employee. I don’t have a store or anything like that. I mean you come up with moneymaking ideas that I can put into motion using my vast wealth and connections. We split the profits eighty-twenty.”

He couldn’t help himself. Hearing such an unfair split, his first reaction was to be affronted.

Weesely must have seen it on his face. “Don’t get like that now. It’s only fair. I’ll be providing all the capital and taking all the risk. I’ve got personnel with experience. I know people. And I’ll be providing security so no one gets robbed in the middle of the night.”

“All fair points,” Hadiin had to allow.

“Twenty percent of a bloody big pie is a lot better than a hundred percent of nothing, am I right? Without backing, someone’s just gonna come along and steal your nice idea before you can do anything with it. You got lucky with ice cream and made a quick profit before someone took it from you. Ain’t gonna happen twice.”

Hadiin took a deep breath and calmed. “True.”

Just as it had been on Earth, here, it took money to make money. What Weesely was offering was probably something most young merchants would jump at. Ideas couldn’t be owned and were easily stolen or copied. With the right resources though, you could be first to market and protect your market share, earning long-term profits.

What would happen if he accepted the offer? Well, he’d be working for a man who seemed to be at least part gangster. So any association was going to come with serious risk. If he outlived his usefulness or wanted to leave, would he be allowed to just walk away or would he end up buried six feet underground? Or worse?

Would joining up with Weesely and going about making a real fortune help him get Marian back? Would he even need to? Part of the reason he’d partnered with her in the first place was for her magical muscle, which he’d no longer need. Being from Earth, she probably had ideas too, so he could bring her on board as well. But that meant both putting her in possible danger as well, and probably splitting his twenty percent share with her. If he kept her out of it, he’d keep that money for himself.

What about Lucia? Weesely was the kind of person she hated, that she targeted. If he partnered with him, then Lucia would likely leave. And probably on bad terms. But, again, as far as business went, what did he really need her for? He’d lose a potential friend but gain a powerful business partner who would actually help Hadiin become rich far quicker than Lucia and Marian could, even if they all worked together.

An icy voice cut into his thoughts.

He looked up and saw Cat standing beside the table. Of course, that probably wasn’t the name she was going by right now.

She was dressed as a lady in an immaculate white dress and a huge hat. She held a red and white fan over her lower face but he could tell it was her. An older woman stood at her side, dressed both elegantly and somberly in a gray and black dress. She looked displeased.

He felt a moment of panic. How could Cat be here right now? This was the worst possible timing!

Her eyes drifted across Weesely and then came to rest squarely on him. “You’re that merchant everyone is talking about, aren’t you?The one who came up with ice cream?”

He realized that this must be who she really was and that she was covering their previous meeting. He tried to speak and had to clear his throat. Embarrassed, he did so and then nodded. “Yes, I am.”

Her eyes, shaded indoors and by the hat were closer to brown than red. They shifted to Weesely. “I’m familiar with you as well. I’ve heard so much about you in the city.”

Weesely smirked as he sized her body up. “Of course you have, miss. Perhaps you’d like to hear more. I’d be happy to get to know each other better.”

“You know, I’m a huge fan of Liza Rainwalker,” Cat said, ignoring him. “I think she’s brilliant. Also, a great judge of character.” She gave him a flat stare.

His smile melted away and he appeared to lose all interest in her. “Is that so?” Picking up his tankard, he took another drink, ignoring the woman.

Cat’s red eyes found the coins on the table. “My, what a lot of money. It seems I’ve interrupted two merchants of a kind in a deal.”

Hadiin grew flustered. “Actually—“

“Yes, you did, Miss…?”

Cat ignored him.

He grunted, unamused by her refusal to introduce herself. He just as rudely waved her away. “Kindly be off. We’ve business to settle.”

Cat slowly nodded. Those red eyes rose from the five platinum coins and seemed to bore holes in Hadiin. Her voice became so disdainful and cold that it threatened to freeze the water in his glass. “You can tell a lot about someone by the company they keep. I, for one, have never found any need for the company of sleazy, untrustworthy, vile merchants who care about money more than they care about people.” She turned on her heel and stalked out of the restaurant, many other patrons watching as she went.

Weesely chuckled. “Bleeding hearts. Probably some bored housewife or noble’s daughter thinking she’s better than the lot of us because she gives a few silvers to orphanages once a year. Bah, forget her.” He tucked into more food.

Hadiin felt his stomach turn sour and it had nothing to do with the food. First, he’d lost Marian, now he’d lost Cat.

But that’s fine because he doesn’t need her anymore. He’s got Weesely and five hundred gold in his pocket and license to make an even bigger fortune. That was far more useful right now.

With a sickening lurch, he realized that this was exactly how people back home thought, how corporate thinking went. It was how selfish people operated. It was very likely how the billionaire tech giant he’d once worked for thought.

Hadiin was becoming the kind of person who would probably do well in business. All he had to do was say yes to Weesely and he’d have a great chance to become wealthy. He’d be under the man’s thumb, perhaps, but rich. And who knows what could happen then? The guy might have a heart attack. Or maybe Hadiin could hire his own assassin.

Accepting Weesely’s offer was the right thing to do if he wanted to get rich. Wasn’t it? Many people would jump at this chance.

He pictured the disgust on Marian’s face.

He still saw Cat’s icy disdain for him.

He’d barely started into this lifestyle and already he was alienating people around him. Leaving behind people who had put their trust in him. Who might have become his friends. Was it worth being rich if it meant losing others? Would his future be filled only with people like Weesely? Did it matter? He’d already lost the only two friends he had in the world. He might as well make new friends. If he had money, he’d have plenty of chances.

He grew defiant at his own negativity. With enough gold, he could get himself a dozen girls, each more beautiful than Cat and sexier than Marian. In a few weeks, he’ll have forgotten them entirely.

He looked at the fat, heavy platinum coins. Despite feeling guilty at what he’d done to Cat, he couldn’t help himself. He reached for them.

Weesely smirked again. “See? I knew you were smart.”