Victor 10.21 - Bargaining

Here we go! Happy Tuesday :)

-Plum

21 – Bargaining

When Victor and Arona were shown into an opulent dining room with an amazing fifty-foot polished table crafted from a single slab of wood at its center, he was a little disturbed to see Rellia’s servants setting out plates and silverware for four. He could smell the aromas of bacon, fresh bread, and other breakfast foods wafting out of the covered silver trays lining the wall near the place settings, and he was about to object to Rellia’s chamberlain, saying he didn’t want to stay for breakfast, when the lady in question swept into the room.

“Victor!” She strode toward him, beautiful as ever—no, Victor realized, more beautiful; she’d eaten another natural treasure or something. She was taller, her pale-blue skin practically glowed, and her hair was like spun red-tinted gold. Before leaving Ruhn, Victor had reduced his size to accommodate the doorframes on Fanwath. So, when Rellia enthusiastically embraced him, she could almost look him directly in the eyes. “I’ve missed you!”

He smiled and squeezed her back. “And I you, Rellia. It’s good to see you looking so well.”

“Oh my! How cultured you sound! What have they done to my gruff, blunt-speaking Victor?” She grinned as she spoke, her bright crimson eyes narrowed in amusement. Victor was happy to see she was in a good mood, glad to know she wasn’t—at least openly—holding some sort of grudge about him and Valla being split. She had to know, right? She knew everything that went on in the Free Marches, and plenty of people were aware of his situation with Valla.

“I’m still in here,” he said with a chuckle, thumping his chest as Rellia pulled away, carefully avoiding the aching burn at the center. “I hate to be rude or act like I don’t want to spend time catching up, but I’m under some pressure. I have to take care of some urgent matters. I’m not sure breakfast—”

“Oh, hush! You came here for a reason, didn’t you? Who’s this with you? Shouldn’t you make introductions?” Rellia waved away his objection and turned to stare openly at Arona.

Before she could say something too blunt—speculation about his current love life, for instance—he cleared his throat and gestured to Arona. “Rellia ap’Yensha, may I introduce Arona Moonshadow? She’s an advisor and close friend.”

“Oh! How delightful!” Rellia took Arona’s hand and asked, “From whence do you hail? One of the worlds I’ve heard so much about? Sojourn, perhaps?”

Arona’s smile was an easy match for Rellia’s as she performed a delicate curtsey, lifting her blue, silken robes gracefully. “My Lady Rellia, I’m very pleased to make your acquaintance. Most recently, I’ve made my home on Ruhn, but yes, I did live in Sojourn for a time. I would hardly call it my origin, though; there were half a dozen before that—worlds that I helped to conquer, many of which I was quite fond of and where I spent years of my life.”

“Oh! Then I am honored to host such a world-wise guest for breakfast.” Rellia turned to Victor. “Come, Victor, don’t be a spoilsport. If you have something to discuss with me, can’t we do so over a meal? Valla is—”

“Here,” Valla said from an arched opening off to the side of the table. Victor had seen the movement, of course, but he’d assumed it was one of the kitchen staff bringing more food. He looked at her, and his heartbeat slowed to a near stop as something in his gut fluttered uneasily. He felt his mouth go dry, and his hands begin to perspire. Some part of his mind laughed, amused that he could be so shaken by her mere presence when a hundred thousand raving enemies only made him eager to fight.

“Valla,” he croaked, and she smiled, stepping into the dining room.

“Hello, Victor.” She was as beautiful as ever—tall, elegant, dressed in a pale blue silken gown that highlighted the faint tint of her skin and the teal in her eyes, hair, and the silvery wings that rose above her shoulders. She looked past him, and her smile broadened as she inclined her head. “Arona. You look different than I remember.”

Arona folded her arm over her stomach and bowed slightly. “I’ve gone through much, but my recovery is nearly complete.”

Valla nodded. “So interesting. I wonder how you came to be with Victor. Last I heard you’d suffered a terrible fate in the Iron Prison.” She shrugged, sighing almost wistfully. “Ah well. No matter.” She walked around the table to the chair that would be on the left of Rellia’s seat at the head of the table. “Shall we enjoy some breakfast? I’d love to catch up.”

“A lovely Idea—” Rellia started to say, but Victor brushed past her, moving around the table to stand before Valla.

He held his arms wide, indicating he wanted to hug. “I’m damn glad to see you, Valla. You look amazing.”

Some of the stilted frostiness melted on her face, and she smiled more naturally, leaning into him and squeezing him around the ribs. It felt good. It felt like coming home, but Victor knew there was a gulf between them that a simple hug wouldn’t banish. Their time apart, their months without communicating, had built that chasm, and though Valla had promised that they’d find each other and their love again, it was clear that it might not be so easy, nor so soon as she might have wanted.

Even knowing all that, Victor savored the familiarity of her embrace—the scent of her, the feel of her arms in the same old spots under his ribs, the way her fingertips lightly caressed the muscles near his spine. “I missed you,” he said through a throat thick with emotion.

“And I you,” she replied, and he could hear the hitch in her voice. That was when she yelped and pulled her head away from his chest—she had a circular wound above her temple, and as he watched, blood began to stream down the side of her face.

“Damn it!” Victor hissed, reaching up to cup his hand over his chest where his void curse had eaten away his shirt. “I’m sorry, Valla! Do you have—”

She’d already summoned a jar of healing ointment and rubbed it on the spot. “Do you have some sort of armor—a ward? Did it try to defend you?”

“What happened?” Rellia charged around the table, peering at the blood on Valla’s face. Her wound was already healed, but the evidence remained.

Victor sighed, shaking his head. “It’s nothing—an unintended effect of a small problem I’m dealing with. I’m sorry about that, Valla. I forgot about it for a moment.”

Rellia wasn’t so easy to deflect. “Why didn’t I get hurt when I hugged you?”

Victor chuckled, still holding his hand over his chest. “Because you didn’t fold into me the same way. You rested your head here.” Victor moved his hand toward his shoulder. “Anyway, I’m sorry, Valla. Excuse me, please, everyone, while I step out to change my shirt.” They objected, asked more questions, and even tried to follow him, but he turned and growled, “Really, it’s nothing! Give me a moment’s peace, please.”

As he slipped out the side passage to the kitchens, he heard Arona clear her throat and say, “Lady Valla, I’ve heard about your adventures among ancient and powerful leviathans. How are your studies progressing?”

Victor stepped around a dim corridor, looked left and right to ensure no servants were approaching, and summoned a new shirt. He sent his damaged one into storage. He’d take it out later to allow the self-repairing magic to work. Frowning, irritated, he shrugged into the clean, undamaged one. Sighing, feeling a little embarrassed, he returned to the dining room, trying to maintain a pleasant expression.

“…have already taught me much, but they insist on me applying their lessons, spending some time synthesizing the new knowledge. So, I’ve come home to relax and allow my mind a chance to unpack everything.” Valla and the others were already seated, and Victor noted they left him an open seat to Rellia’s right.

He walked around the table, passed behind Valla and Rellia, and sat down. Arona, who was to his right, said, “I’m fascinated by great primordial beings. I wonder if you might pass a message on to your mentor—”

Valla shook her head, lifting a hand to interrupt. “I’m sorry, Arona, but the Booraghi are very proud of their isolation; I was warned not to try to use my connection to Oomah, my mentor, to gain favors for any outsiders.”

Arona smiled and inclined her head in a stately nod. “No need to apologize; I understand.”

“Well—” Rellia dismissed the topic. “—I’m pleased to see you’ve returned, Victor, and that the unpleasant scowl has faded from those handsome features.”

He sighed, shaking his head as he chuckled good-naturedly. “Sorry, Rellia, if I snapped at you.” He looked at Valla. “And I’m sorry I hurt you.”

She smiled, sipping from a glass of juice. “It was nothing. Is there nothing we can do to help you with your…small problem?”

“Nah.” Victor picked up his own glass of juice and swallowed it down in three large gulps. “It’s nothing.”

“Thirsty!” Rellia chuckled. She snapped her fingers, and one of her staff scurried over to fill Victor’s glass. “So, Victor, while our food is served, tell me what you must speak to me about before running off again?”

Victor shifted in his seat, glancing at Arona, then at Valla. He didn’t want to do things this way. Did he want an audience while he tried to bargain with Rellia? Regardless of what he wanted, he had to get it done, so he shrugged and spoke bluntly, “I want to buy the volcano from you. I want to add it to my holdings here in the Free Marches.”

“Mount Ember?” Rellia sounded genuinely surprised.

Victor, too, was caught off guard. “Oh, you named it?”

“We named it shortly after you departed for Sojourn. It held the portal to Dark Ember, and we reasoned that the volcano's fires destroyed the portal, so we took ownership of the name. No longer “dark,” the mountain and its caldera are now known as Ember.”

Victor nodded, tilting his head as he pursed his lips, thinking it over. “Seems fitting.”

“So you wish to purchase an entire mountain, hmm? Seems a strange thing to do for a man who’s off fighting to conquer other worlds.”

Victor shrugged, taking a more measured sip from his glass. “I have my reasons.”

“Mother, you should just give it to him if he needs it.” As Valla spoke, Victor smiled at her, and Rellia turned to glare.

“Perhaps I was unwise to ask you to bring your business to the breakfast table, Victor.”

Valla only ignored her, leaning back to make room for a servant who set a plate of steaming food before her. Everyone was served, and Victor took a bite of some sort of sausage hash, savoring the spicy, fatty mix before he said, “Rellia, name a price you feel is fair. I’m not here to try to coax charity from you.”

Rellia chuckled and delicately wiped her mouth with a linen napkin. “I’ve been making deals for a good long while, Victor. You’re the one who wants something. You make an offer.”

Victor shrugged. “Fine. A million Energy beads.”

“A million Energy beads? For the greatest mountain in the Free Marches and, I’m assuming, its foothills? Why, that must be more than two hundred thousand acres. You think I should sell you my territory for five beads an acre?”

Victor sighed. “Well, how much are you selling your territory for these days?” He tapped his fork on his plate while he thought, knowing Rellia wouldn’t answer the question. “You gave away homesteads larger than that for favors some of your noble friends owed you back in the Empire. I’m not asking for such generosity, but perhaps a little consideration of our long-standing partnership would be nice.” When she only stared at him, he grunted, “Fifty million, then.”

“Fifty million?” Rellia arched an eyebrow. “Quite a sum to receive all at once. Still, for so many acres…”

“It’s not like we’re talking about prime farmland, Rellia. Those lands are home to rocky crags, boulder-covered hills, and twisted, gnarled thorn-woods. The caldera is useless to you; who would build on the site of such a calamitous event? Would you even dare mine those slopes? What if the spirit in that mountain took offense? I’ll sweeten the deal by promising to keep the volcano quiet—the Free Marches need never fear another eruption.”

“Sounds very fair,” Valla said, clearing her throat and wiping her mouth with her napkin.

“Why?” Rellia asked, ignoring her, staring at Victor with her big, bright, crimson eyes. “Can’t you tell me?”

Victor smiled. He had her. It was just a matter of making her feel like she was getting away with something now. “I’ll tell you, but then the deal will change: the fifty million will be off the table. This knowledge has value beyond anything I can pay you. Are you sure you want to hear it?” He glanced at Arona, wondering if she wanted to add something—anything—to aid his negotiations, but she held her face passive as she took dainty bites of her breakfast.

“You sneaky barbarian,” Rellia chuckled. “You bait me with an exorbitant offer and then tell me the knowledge is worth more?” She cursed, some phrase that the System didn’t interpret, clenching her fist momentarily. While Victor stared at her, she relaxed her hand and drummed her manicured, pointed nails on the arm of her chair. “Fine. Tell me what it is!”

Victor grinned, leaning forward. “I intend to rebuild the citadels guarding the road—the bridge, too. I’ll rebuild the road and clean out the caldera, constructing a mighty keep there.”

“But why? Do you fear another invasion?”

Victor held up a finger, indicating he wasn’t finished. “Beneath the keep, I’m going to clear a chamber down in the heart of the mountain, and in that chamber, I’m going to plant the Core of a tier-nine dungeon.”

“Tier nine?” Rellia gasped. “Surely monsters will break free! How can we hope to contain—”

“It’s a type of dungeon the System labels ‘progressive.’ It will create challenges suitable for anyone who enters, and each time they succeed, it will increase the difficulty. The fact that it’s tier-nine only means that it can create challenges suitable for pretty much any iron ranker. Rellia, once the road is rebuilt and the keep is constructed, we can staff it with caretakers who charge entry fees to would-be dungeon challengers. What would you pay to enter a dungeon tailored to you, especially knowing you may gain a handful of levels with each entry?”

Rellia’s eyes unfocused as she stared into space. Her mouth opened and closed several times before saying, “A fortune.”

“So—” Victor reached over and grasped her wrist, so she looked at him. “—you give me that mountain, and I’ll give you a pair of treasures along with a partnership—fifty-fifty—in the operation of the dungeon.”

“Why must you own the mountain?”

“I think it’s important for me to own the land where I plant the dungeon. I want to be ultimately responsible for it and what happens with it. More than that, I have a certain kinship with that mountain. I should have argued for it when we first divvied up the Free Marches, but the past is merely a lesson, not something I hope to revisit.”

“By the ancestors, Victor! You’ve changed.” Rellia glanced at Valla, perhaps hoping she’d validate her statement, but Valla only smiled softly, staring at her plate as she pushed around some bits of lemon-dressed greens with her fork.

Rellia turned back to Victor. “How often can the dungeon create a pocket realm?”

“Lower-tier ones? Dozens or hundreds a day. As for tier nine, I’m not sure. I’ll have to test it.”

“And something like tier-six?”

Victor knew what she was thinking—how often could she use it, and how many times could she charge the other powerful people on Fanwath to use it? He smiled and shrugged. “Probably a few a day. I’ll have to test it. The dungeon used to be in a more Energy-rich world than this one, but that’s another reason I want to put it in the volcano.”

“Ah! The Energy! If the dungeon feeds off it, it will keep the mountain calm.” She frowned, again staring into space, and Victor could imagine her brain was desperately crunching numbers. Had she made a mistake asking for the knowledge rather than taking his initial offer of fifty million beads? He decided to try to help her understand how much better this new offer was.

“Rellia, when you climb into tier six or seven, you’ll learn that access to a dungeon like this is worth every bit of your wealth. There are iron rankers in Sojourn who would give away everything they own to learn from a certain master or gain a few levels in tier nine. Trust me, it’s better for you to have access to this dungeon than a few million beads. Over time, you’ll earn more, anyhow. Besides, I’m going to give you these.” Victor reached into his storage container and removed one of the treasures he’d chosen for her.

He set before her a swirling orb of inky black shadows—an Energy heart attuned to shadow, which was Rellia’s primary affinity. Next, he piled his old Sojourn armor set at the center of the table: the helm, the gauntlet, the belt, the greaves, and the boots. “I’ve removed my bond with each of these magical items. It’s a powerful armor set that will make you absurdly strong for your level. Moreover, the set will help you resist the primary aspect that the dungeon will use for its environments: fire.”

Rellia stared at the shadowy orb for several long moments. Victor looked at Valla, and she met his gaze with a small smile and a surreptitious nod; she thought Rellia would take the deal. Victor loved seeing her face, loved that they were getting along. He wasn’t sure she didn’t harbor some resentment about his time with Tes. Valla hadn’t brought her up, but she’d certainly been a little cold before Victor hugged her. He decided he ought to try to speak to her a bit alone before he and Arona left.

Rellia interrupted his thoughts. “Very well, Victor. I accept. I’ll have my people draft up the deed and the business agreement. I assume you’ll want me to manage the dungeon access while you’re off-world?”

“Oh, I think we can both find managers from our communities. I’m happy to have you oversee them, though.” Victor smiled and held out his hand. “A handshake will do for now; I’ll let Gorro sign the documents in my stead.”

Rellia’s eyes widened. “You can’t wait?”

Victor shook his head. “I wasn’t lying when I said I’m under a lot of pressure.” He shrugged. “It’s nothing personal—time isn’t on my side.”

Rellia looked at him searchingly. She licked her lips and darted her eyes toward Valla. “Surely you can spare a moment to speak with Valla alone—”

“Mother, please—” Valla started to object, but Victor spoke over her.

“Yeah, of course I can. Valla? Will you walk with me for a few minutes before I leave?”

She nodded, placing her napkin on the table and pushing her chair back. “I would like that, Victor.”