A gust of autumn wind slipped through his collar, causing Thaute to shiver. He wrapped his coat tighter around himself and cursed under his breath, “This damn ghastly weather.”
The “Mudfish” Pirate Gang had just plundered a village, seizing a hefty bounty of pigs, sheep, and fine wine. Abiding by their principle of “drink today if there’s wine today,” the pirates naturally sought to revel in their success, holding a “celebration meeting” that lasted several days.
However, while the rest thrived in the aromatic roasted meat and rich wine, poor Thaute was dispatched by the gang’s deputy leader to Port Fran to meet with their informant.
He arrived at the only brothel in Port Fran, casually strolling in as if he were a regular.
“Ah, long time no see, sir,” greeted a group of heavily made-up women who quickly surrounded him. Thaute had been here before but doubted they remembered him; these prostitutes greeted everyone as if they were long-lost acquaintances.
Despite several of the girls catching his eye, Thaute knew business was priority. He found a spot to sit and loudly declared, “I’m here for business, fetch your boss for me!”
The women teased him with suggestive glances, “Sir, don’t you know the kind of business we do here? You can just ‘negotiate’ directly with us.”
Shaking his head, Thaute said, “The deal I’m discussing is a big one, it needs your boss to make a decision.”
“What kind of secretive deal is this?”
Patting a case he carried with him, Thaute smirked, “Heh, I’ve got a new shipment from the south. It’s something that can make men vigorous in bed. With this, I guarantee your clients won’t want to go home.”
The women, unembarrassed, burst into laughter.
At that moment, a person who recognized Thaute approached, “Mr. Thaute, please follow me. The boss instructed to bring you directly to him if you ever visited.”
Thaute followed her to a luxurious room, only to find the battered and bruised brothel owner, Clement.
Surprised, Thaute asked, “Boss Clement, what happened to you?”
Clement, looking miserable, lamented, “Ah, don’t mention it. I recently fell short on my taxes, and the tax officer led a group of soldiers here, and without a word, they beat me up. Ouch…”
His swollen face pained him as he spoke.
Thaute couldn’t help but revel in schadenfreude, “You really had the guts to underpay the lord’s taxes?”
Annoyed, Clement retorted, “Whose side are you on?”
Thaute quickly reassured, “Of course, I’m on your side, brother. These damn nobles don’t care about your troubles, but the moment you’re short a penny, they don’t hesitate to beat you up.” Follow current novels on novｅlfire.net
Clement’s face showed deep agreement, his eyes reflecting hatred. “I just can’t swallow this humiliation! Those bloodsuckers, all for a few coins…”
“Brother, don’t worry!” Thaute patted Clement’s shoulder, saying, “Soon, we’ll make your lord — Count Grayman — pay.”
“Oh?” the fat owner perked up, “You’re going to avenge me?”
Thaute internally scoffed, ‘Wishful thinking, who do you think you are?’
He replied, “Sort of, but not just for you! Grayman has recently been making life difficult for us seafarers. He’s made enemies with us too. So, the higher-ups are planning something big.”
Then, Thaute spat disdainfully and said, “The shark was strangled, his vendetta for his father’s murder settled, but why keep troubling us bystanders? Nobles and us are like water in a well and a river — they don’t interfere with each other. That’s the rule in the Northwest Bay. Those who don’t follow the rules need to be taught a lesson.”
The brothel owner, Clement, couldn’t help but feel contemptuous. “Keep boasting all you want. Everyone knows that lately you’ve been pressed down by the Alda navy, only daring to rob where their reach doesn’t extend.”
In his youth, Clement had been a pirate for a while and knew Mudfish. Back then, both were insignificant lackeys. Eventually, Clement saved some money, left the pirate life, and after wandering for a while, started a business in Port Fran. Though his current ‘business’ wasn’t exactly honorable, it at least freed him from a life of constant drifting and bloodshed.
It was soon after the establishment of the Alda navy that Mudfish sent people to Clement, demanding his assistance under threat of exposing his pirate past.
Everyone knew that the current lord, Paul Grayman, despised pirates. Clement didn’t dare gamble on the lord’s mercy. Since Mudfish only asked him to pass on messages, he thought it wouldn’t be risky if he was careful, so he agreed.
To his dismay, even with utmost caution, he was caught. The navy and the lord’s men beat him severely. The only reason they didn’t execute him was that they needed him to act as a double agent.
It wasn’t just about keeping secrets anymore. If he refused, his life was at stake. Clement, desperate to survive, cooperated fully.
Hearing Thaute’s boasts, the brothel owner showed a look of shared enmity.
“Brother Thaute, as long as it makes that young Grayman suffer, I’m in. What do you need me to do?”
“Heh, Boss Clement, you just need to do the same as before — keep a close eye on the movements of the ‘Blue Stripe Dogs.’ Just make sure to relay the information more promptly, especially about their troops moving elsewhere.”
Clement looked slightly troubled. “I wish I could pass the messages more quickly, but there aren’t many good ways.”
Thaute smiled slightly. “That’s why I’m here!”
He opened the case he brought, revealing not aphrodisiacs but a bird. The bird, calm and quiet in the box, didn’t panic even upon seeing Clement, a stranger.
Clement recognized the bird as a fish hawk, rare and notoriously difficult to tame in the Northwest, often starving itself to death if captured. He was surprised that the Mudfish pirates managed to keep such a creature.
Thaute explained, “From now on, use this fish hawk to send messages. Feed it well for a few days, and it will remember this place. It can find us and return to you.”
Clement looked at the bird. “This will be very convenient.”
Thaute advised, “If the navy leaves Port Fran, try to find out their numbers. It’s extremely important for us.”
“Don’t worry, leave it to me,” Clement agreed, then asked, “Can you tell me what big action you’re planning?”
Shaking his head, Thaute replied, “I don’t know the specifics. I just follow orders to give the Blue Stripe Dogs a hard time.”
To avoid suspicion, Clement didn’t press further. He tried to touch the fish hawk but quickly withdrew his hand, asking, “Does this feathered creature bite?”
“Go ahead and pet it, once tamed, it’s very well-behaved.”
Thaute grabbed the fish hawk and placed it into Clement’s arms.
Clement, intrigued by the rare animal difficult to tame, played with it for a while.
Finally, smiling, he said to Thaute, “You’ve come a long way, brother. Why not enjoy yourself here before you leave?”
Thaute, delighted, replied, “Then I’ll take you up on that offer without hesitation!”