than they should be. It’s gotten to the point now where collecting the bounty pledges could destabilize the entire Council.”
Josef rolled his eyes. “Then why did you suggest it?”
“Because you left me no choice,” Whitefall said heatedly.
He stopped and took a deep breath. When he spoke again, the Merchant Prince’s voice was low and earnest. “As much as Osera thinks of itself as an isolated island, the truth is we’re all in this together. Osera needs the Council for trade and food, and we need Osera to protect our sea lanes. If you continue to demand what I cannot give, you’ll doom us all, including your own people. And that is a threat, King Josef.”
Josef sneered, but Whitefall just leaned back in his chair. “I’ve been very generous,” he said. “I’ve offered you your thief, I’ve promised to help rebuild your kingdom, and my ships are yours as long as you need them. What more do you want?”
Eli glanced at Josef. The swordsman was standing in first position, his eyes fixed on Whitefall with that cold, unwavering intensity usually reserved for serious duels. Eli grimaced. This was going to be bad. But when Josef finally spoke, his voice wasn’t the deep, threatening growl that usually came out of him when he looked like that. It was calm and measured, filled with a resolution as deep as mountain roots.
“I haven’t been king for long,” Josef said. “But I’ve made promises. Promises to people who lost their country and their children protecting your Council. Promises to my mother. Promises to all of Osera. I didn’t want this crown, but now that I’ve got it, I won’t betray it. Not for Eli, and certainly not to make your life easier.” He relaxed his stance, crossing his arms stubbornly. “I promised to bring five hundred thousand gold home to Osera, and I mean to keep that promise. Anything less is unworthy of my island.”
Whitefall’s eyes narrowed. “For being so new to kingship, it seems you’ve picked up the basics fairly quickly,” he said. “Making promises you can’t keep and being overly generous with other people’s money are certainly kingly qualities.”
“I wasn’t finished,” Josef said sharply. “You want a compromise? Fine. Here’s my offer. Osera still gets the full bounty, but we’ll give you fifty years to pay it. In return for our generosity, Osera will pay no Council taxes, tariffs, or dues for the entire fifty-year period.”
“No tariffs…” Whitefall’s eyes widened. “That is a hefty rate of interest, King Josef.”
Josef shrugged. “If you don’t like it, I can always take my bounty claim public. I’m sure everyone who pays Council taxes would love to see you default.”
Whitefall’s jaw tightened in fury. Eli didn’t blame him. If Den’s bounty was the uniting act that formed the Council, then failing to pay it could shatter the public’s trust, not to mention the trust of the member kingdoms. But if Whitefall did try to make good on the pledge, those countries that joined in the years after the first war with the Empress would balk at having to pay for such an enormous bounty they had no part in setting. It was a bitter fruit any way you cut it, one even Whitefall didn’t seem to know how to swallow.
“That is a bald threat indeed,” the Merchant Prince said at last, thrumming his fingers on his desk.
“You started it,” Josef said.
Whitefall did not look amused. “You realize that if I go by your terms, I’ll have to keep Monpress? The Council’s going to need all the leverage it can muster to handle such a long-term debt.”
“Do what you have to do,” Josef said. “A king has no use for the world’s greatest thief.”
Eli put on a great show of looking deeply distraught. Whitefall, however, didn’t have to put on airs. He looked positively stricken as he reached into his drawer for a clean sheaf of paper.
“I find myself at a loss,” he muttered, glancing at Eli. “You turned out to be a very poor bargaining chip indeed, Mr. Monpress.”
Eli shrugged, but Whitefall’s eyes were already back on the paper. “It will be a few hours before I can have all of this formally drawn up,” he said, jotting down notes. “I trust you don’t mind waiting.”
“Actually, I do,” Josef said. “This is a simple agreement, Whitefall. I don’t want some Council bureaucrat turning it into a thirty-page treaty full of loopholes. Write it out now, just like I said, then we can both sign and put all of this behind us.”
Whitefall’s pen stopped midscratch. “You can’t be serious.”
“I’m always serious,” Josef said. “Get writing.”
Whitefall’s fingers clenched the paper, crumpling it into a tight ball, and for a moment, Eli thought the old man was going to order Josef out. But then the Merchant Prince’s shoulders slumped, and he bent down to pull a fresh sheet from the drawer. He set it on the table and, as Eli watched in amazement, began to write out the contract.
Not that he had a choice. Smart and experienced as Whitefall was, he hadn’t seen Josef coming. Any other king would have taken the first offer and gone home dancing that he had the Council so deeply in his debt, but not Josef. Whitefall was simply unprepared for a king who didn’t care about political power or the Council’s goodwill or even, seemingly, the life of his friend. Josef had come to Zarin to claim five hundred thousand gold standards for Osera, and that was exactly what he was going to do. In the face of such simple, bald determination, even Whitefall’s expert maneuvering was useless. Of course, just because he’d lost didn’t mean Whitefall was done fighting.
“I’m setting Monpress’s trial for noon tomorrow,” he said casually as he wrote. “The execution will probably be that night, considering the overwhelming evidence. Should be quite the event. I do hope you’ll still be in town to see it.”
He glanced up, but Josef’s stony expression hadn’t change a hair, and Whitefall returned to his writing with a sigh. “So much for honor among thieves.”
He wrote in silence for another minute before handing the paper to Josef. The king read it twice and then leaned over the desk, signing his name on the line Whitefall had drawn below the last paragraph. Whitefall turned the paper around and signed as well, stamping his seal in ink at the bottom.
“That it?” Josef said.
“That is it,” Whitefall said tiredly. “Unless you mean to kick me while I’m down as well?”
“No need,” Josef said.
He turned to leave, avoiding Eli’s eyes as he did, and left the Merchant Prince’s office without another word. Nico followed him silently, a shadow behind her swordsman. As the door shut behind them, Whitefall leaned back in his chair and tossed the contract on the table.
“And to think Theresa posted two hundred thousand gold standards trying to get that back.”
He glared at the door a moment longer, then reached back and pulled a velvet rope hidden behind his bookcase. The guards entered immediately, rushing to Eli. They hauled him up straight in his chair, though he was still sitting as straight as when they’d left. When Eli grunted in protest, the larger guard bent his arm back painfully. Eli went limp at once, giving the large man his best pathetic look.
“Take him away,” Whitefall said. “And tell the pages I need to see the Revenue Board, the Bounty Committee, and the Judiciary as soon as possible. Also, Sara is not to be admitted to my office for the rest of the day.”
“Yes, Merchant Prince,” the guards said, cutting Eli free.
Eli stood gratefully, stretching his arms before the guards caught them and tied him again for the trip back. When they cut the gag from his mouth, he pushed the handkerchief out with his tongue and glanced over his shoulder.
“Pleasure to finally meet you, Alber,” he called.
Whitefall didn’t even look up as the guards dragged Eli out of his office.
CHAPTER
10
Sparrow was waiting just outside. He fell into step with Eli’s guards as they marched down the stairs, but when they reached the end of the spiraling hall, he told the guards to return to the Merchant Prince; he would take the prisoner from here. The guards didn’t look happy about this. They hadn’t looked happy since Whitefall had first sent them out of his office, but, now as then, they obeyed, and Sparrow led Eli down through the doorway and into
