The Tales of the Wanderer Volume One: A Book of Underrealm (The Underrealm Volumes 4) Garrett Robinson (poetry books to read TXT) 📖

them fester and rot. He did not care if he had to wait years to get back at her if it meant he could be confident of victory in the end.

As part of his revenge, and because people like him always desire power, he sought to become mayor. He was good at manipulating those around him, and so he achieved it before too very long. It would be overstating things to say that anyone in Shuiniu really wanted to give him the position. But many folk, if they are somewhat simple or easily frightened, can lend their support to an utter scoundrel because he promises to solve the problems they think they have. Never mind that he always makes things worse instead—all that matters to him is that he gets there. And once planted, such villains can be very difficult to root out.

At first, his appointment seemed to have little effect on the town or Mag. Business was good for Duana, in both the brewery and the tavern, and it did not change much from year to year. But Duana had begun to get old. No longer could her aging body keep up with the pace of the work. She entertained the idea of letting Mag run the tavern, and even broached the subject once or twice, but Mag had little interest. She loved brewing more, as did Duana, and they both wanted to spend their time at their craft.

So when someone in the town offered to buy the tavern for a good price, Duana gratefully accepted. It seemed the perfect arrangement. She and Mag could brew in peace. And the security of their livelihood seemed assured. There was no one else in Shuiniu foolish enough to try competing with Duana’s skill, and the tavern would always need ale. They would have more than enough custom to live on.

But almost as soon as the tavern had changed hands, the new owner stopped purchasing Duana’s ale. Instead, they began to ship it in from more distant towns, and even some cities.

At first, Duana and Mag could not understand it. It cost far more to transport the ale such a long way. And yet the tavern’s new master did not charge any more for his drinks than he had done in the past. It did not seem possible to continue the practice. Not even the cost of rooms and board would make up the difference. And when they tried to find out why the tavern master had stopped buying Duana’s ale, they were met with sullen silence, if he would see them at all. Nor could they sell their ale to the townsfolk. Most people cannot afford to purchase kegs at a time, nor do they have the means to store them.

There were, of course, any number of things they could have done. If nothing else, Mag could have built a small bar beside the brewery, and I am sure the folk of Shuiniu would have come to drink at the new bar as they had from the old one.

But while they were trying to determine their course, the truth came out. The tavern’s new master was in Ciaran’s pocket. Ciaran had arranged the purchase, paying the greater part of the price. That gave him power over the tavern, and so he ordered it to stop purchasing Duana’s ale. He also paid a subsidy to the tavern’s owner to keep prices the same despite the cost of shipping ale in. Ciaran had spent his whole life hoarding whatever wealth he could, and he was good at it. This new scheme was no more trouble to him than remembering to get dressed in the morning.

Mag was furious when she heard the news, and she immediately went to confront Ciaran, without telling Duana. She accused him of undermining Duana for petty revenge.

Ciaran gave her an ugly grin. “This is simply good business,” he insisted. “After all, the town elected me, in part, for my skill at earning coin. Certainly, I have acquired more of it than you and your master, and so the people trust me more in these matters than you. Can you not see that trade with the broader world is the only way to prosperity? If some in Shuiniu, such as yourselves, must fall by the wayside, well … that is the price that must be paid, for the good of the many.”

“You give them piss and insist they be grateful,” said Mag. “And if anyone gave your ledger half a glance, they would see that you are not even earning more coin for the town.”

Her hands clenched to fists, which made Ciaran somewhat nervous. But his grin widened, and he spread his hands.

“Any cunning merchant knows that sometimes you must lose coin today to gain more tomorrow. After all, those who travel here to bring their ale bring coin with them, and they spend it in the town.”

“At your smithy and the tavern you own, mostly,” said Mag.

Ciaran licked his lips. “And why not? I pay the subsidy for the ale. I am risking the coin, and I should reap the benefit. I have to look after Shuiniu’s best interests, even if it is harder on my coin in the short term.”

Mag barely kept herself from striking him. “How does this serve the town’s best interests?”

His eyes flashed, and his mouth twisted in an ugly sneer. “It seems unwise,” he said slowly, “to continue purchasing anything from someone like Duana, who would employ a girl as violent as you.”

Now, there are countless ways that Mag could have responded. She could have withdrawn, and together with Duana, made some other arrangement. If she had been thinking clearly, she would have seen that Ciaran was trying to goad her.

But Mag was not thinking clearly at all, not at that moment. In fact, as she described it to me, the world had turned a peculiar shade of red.

“Violent?” she snarled. “I will show you violence.”

And she did. Her eyes went blank, and her