Butcher of Gadobhra Chapter 408 (Patreon)

Ozzy got a few stares as he pulled the heavily laden wagon through the streets of Wolfsburg. Most people saw a man pulling a wagon, not unknown in a world where Teamsters and other specialized tradesmen could gain skills in hauling and lifting. But some had more knowledge of wagons and freight. They noticed the extra-wide wheelbase and the extra length of a Sedgewick-built heavy wagon, and revised their weight estimates by a factor of four. And a look at the long hardwood beams would show they had already been trimmed square and stacked with little wasted airspace. A few ventured closer and if Ozzy paused to let other traffic pass, knelt to look under the wagon, nodding in understanding as they saw the heavy Dark Iron springs and suspension the Blacksmiths and Wainwrights had crafted. The wagons had been needed to haul the building materials required for Rowan Keep and Baron William now had a small fleet of them. Ozzy used them to haul barrels of raw meat from Gadobhra to his smokehouse and smoked sausages to Rowan Keep to send south to the Red Company.

With the keep finished, he wanted to start expanding his sausage business. The first step was repairing and remodeling the warehouse he'd bought. His idea was a small shop selling his specialized goods, and a large warehouse for the bulk goods that were in demand by the Legion and mercenary companies. He wasn't exactly hiding the place from Billy. There wasn't anything in his contract about buying land or buildings, and Billy hadn't asked. Ozzy saw no reason to bring the subject up. He was helped by the Baron's narrow focus on Gadobhra.

He was careful to pay Billy his fair share of the money from the big contracts when he sold a hundred or more barrels of sausage or smoked meat. Only fair since the source of the meat was Gadobhra and the other workers did a lot of the work. Barrels needed to be made, which took lumber and metal. Ozzy contributed the smoke to cure it, but the mana came from the workers who contributed each day. Both Ozzy and Billy kicked back some of their earnings to the other workers, helping them build and furnish their own houses near the Hamlets. Overall, it was a good system.

But his custom meats were a different story. He earned those recipes and the knowledge of the Smoke with blood, sweat, and broken bones. And the possibility of death and a long walk home was always there. He kept careful track of the beasts that showed up in the stock pens of Gadobhra and claimed a few for himself. The Hellpigs and Carnivorous Giant Geese were his favorite meat animals for wings, bacon, and sausage. Twice Gargantuan Sloths had appeared, moving deceptively slow until a person was far too close. Only two fit into a pen they were so large. Rolly wanted to breed and domesticate the sloths and geese, and Ozzy had promised to let him have a mating pair of each, with a dire promise to keep the things under control and far away from Sedgwick. The Shepherd had talked to the Sphinx and found a good spot in the Menagerie to begin his project. At least if they got loose in there, the Fay Lords or adventurers could deal with them.

Ozzy and his friends would head to the pens at 5 a.m. after the other workers had left, and carefully clear out the animals he needed. Ozzy bought all the peppers he needed from Makken, and put in all the work of curing the bacon and grinding the sausage himself. He paid Suzette for the barrels and anything he took from the Sedgewick storehouses. With the work of processing, overtime, cost of goods, and specialized knowledge all coming from him, he felt it was only fair he keep all the profits for himself and his friends. Runt was training a likely lad named Bert, one of the Kalvek extended family, in the fine art of selling meat for fun and profit. If all went well, Ozzy could have his little shop selling Mage's Delight, Ham of the Apocalypse, and special recipe sausages all set up in the next month. He planned on working all day today and most of the night. Then a quick shopping trip, and back to Sedgewick. Suzette was working on plans to expand the tavern and needed more crockery, plates, and mugs. Some just to replace those damaged when the tavern got rowdy, but she and Ben had been busy drawing up plans for an expansion of the building.

He only got lost once on his way to his new shop. He'd arrived the first time when chasing his stolen wagon. But while his memories of the hectic chase were imperfect, he'd left himself some clues to follow. "Damn, I must have been pissed and putting out some heat." Once he found the hidden bar with the great pie, his path was well-marked by his footprints burned into the flagstones. Eventually, he arrived in the large open area ringed by butcher shops, a bakery, three restaurants or pubs, and the Wolfsburg Butcher's Guild. Curiously, something was going on in front of his building. Roughly two dozen people were gathered there, and he had a suspicion it wasn't to admire the smoke-stained stones and charred roof. He left his wagon at the entrance to the courtyard, a little out of the way. He wasn't worried about thieves this time. They'd need a team of draft horses to move it, and each twelve-foot beam weighed a thousand pounds.

His stomach grumbled and complained about missing its last couple of meals. Things had been hectic finishing the Keep and Ozzy had only snatched a snack or two. He burned a lot of calories now, fueling the furnace inside of him. He saw Vassily smiling and talking to some of his customers. He'd met him briefly on his last trip here and the smells coming from his place smelled good. The Butcher decided that lunch and information gathering could be combined. He took a seat in a corner in the back and had barely sat down when Vassily and a serving maid came over to his table.

"Welcome. Welcome to my humble eatery. I remember the Butcher from the fine city of Gadobhra who is going to do business nearby. What can Vassily and his humble kitchen get for you today?"

The smell coming from the next table over was tickling his nostrils. "I'll take whatever those folks at the next table over are having but about three times as much, and a tankard of each of the ales or beers you brew. "

Vassily clapped his hands twice and another girl ran over. Ozzy could see the family resemblance. "Certainly. Daria, my dear? Could you bring our friend Ozzy a triple helping of the lamb and onion lasagna your mother has in the kitchen? And Polina? Please bring a tankard each of beer from the cold room downstairs." The girls moved away quickly, swerving around other servers and customers, reminding Ozzy of how Suzette moved. Vassily moved to a sideboard and poured two small glasses of brandy, returning and handing one to the Butcher.

"A sample of the brandy from my estate outside of town. I try to grow as much of my ingredients as I can, and the vineyards produce a fine grape that I turn into this modest vintage. I thought we could drink together for a moment. You have something on your mind?"

"I might. There's a lot of people over by my building. Any reason?"

"Oh, a very good reason. You see, they are certain you won't be back here. I have my doubts, personally, that they are right. But what does an old man like me know?" He smiled and swirled his brandy. "But, I'll be happy to collect on a small bet I made with my brother if you do happen to show up."

Ozzy grinned, then smiled wider as his plates of lasagna and the first tankards of beer showed up. It tasted better than it smelled, and the Butcher was silent until he'd finished half a plate, concentrating on filling his complaining belly.

"That's interesting. I take it they know of some reason that would keep me away?"

"I do. It all hinges upon the Baron of Gadobhra defaulting upon his taxes. A very complicated affair, I must say, from what I overhear. But the plot of the story seems to be that after the default, other people will be in charge, and they will declare the Butcher's Guild of Gadobhra to be illegal. This would nullify your agreement with Stavros, and your building will go up for public auction, sold to the highest bidder. Half the money would go to Stavros, as the last legal owner, and half to the auction house, minus a small fee paid to whoever they had to pay off to set such things up."

"Damn, and Stavros is behind this?"

Vassily shook his head, "No, he is gone. You promised to rip his arms off if he interfered with your business and I think he took you at your word. So did every other Butcher who heard the story. They are staying far away from this sale, lest you blame them. Especially Stavros. He tried to work for other Butchers or buy in as a partner, but no one would have him. The man spent half of his time ranting about getting even with you, and the other half trembling in his room, hoping no one told you what he'd said. Eventually, he left town with the money you paid him to start over somewhere else. In the end, his fear and intelligence overpowered his anger."

"Well, good for him. But then who's behind this scheme?"

"Oh, it could be anyone. Land has value, especially in the largest cities. And lately, there have been agents from these new corporations constantly searching for businesses to buy. They are mostly unsuccessful, as the Dukes want to keep them out of their cities. But this public auction was set up in a hurry, and those restrictions aren't in place. There are over a dozen minor nobles in that crowd, representing peers of a higher station along with the agents of the corporations and the dealers of real estate."

"And this is legal?"

Vassily spread his hands, "Who knows? But as long as you never showed up again, and the correct bribes paid, it would never be questioned. However, I think there is a small chance you show up today and spoil their plans. You have time to eat, by the way. They can't start until the Auctioneer gets here."

"Ah, good, I'd hate to leave this food sitting here. I miss too many meals."

Vassily stood up. "Then I will leave you to your food, and try to look like I haven't been talking to you. Good luck, I look forward to seeing you here on a regular basis. Men with the appetites of three are good customers."

Ozzy applied himself to his meal and finished his seventh tankard of beer. He'd found two that were his favorites. He paid his tab and left the girls a substantial tip. As he was doing this, an ornate carriage drove across the courtyard and stopped near the crowd. "Guess it's time to go disappoint a few people."

As Ozzy walked to join the gaggle of people, using the carriage to block their view of him, the conversations between rival buyers became heated. 

"Jerry, you should take your scurvy traitorous ass and walk away from this deal, now! Raxxon paid the bribes to set this up, and Raxxon has plans for this building. My boss won't take kindly to poaching."

"You mean your boss won't take kindly to you screwing up another deal. But I'm amazed you're still pissed off at me, Chuckie. I know it isn't loyalty to Raxxon. You'd jump to Tesladyne in a heartbeat, but we don't take people who can't close deals, Chuck."

"You closed that deal by sleeping with the client and taking her with you to Tesladyne! Leaving me to explain all the money we'd invested into the deal."

"So I did. And now history is going to repeat itself as you watch me close a deal on this prime piece of real estate. Thank you for setting up the bribes and paying all those fees to push through the sale. I particularly like how it hinges on ACME's default. 

Several other people noticed the argument. The nobles turned up their noses at the tawdry airing of laundry while taking note of the representatives of the two corporations, and judging who would be easier to work with if they had a deal to offer them. The auctioneer descended from his coach accompanied by two burly assistants who set up his podium, and a paymaster with a large chest to take payment for the sale. 

"We shall begin, gentlemen. We have a splendid building to offer today if a bit singed. I'm told that the fire was brief and it is structurally sound. Even in this condition, and with the fire still burning fiercely, it sold for 7000 gold with immediate payment. In my opinion, the seller panicked. Just the land alone is worth three times that in the current market." He looked at the agents from Tesladine and Raxxon, as well as several other people. "Especially if it is a way for some people to bypass certain laws. Indeed, I'd say that makes it a one-of-a-kind opportunity and should be treated as such."

He let that last bit sink in, then said. This is a special sale, and I expect bidding to be fierce. Payment must be made immediately. Anyone wishing to bid should raise their hand now. This both signifies that you have enough funds, and have read and understand the rules of this auction. Hands were raised. The agents looked around, becoming aware of opponents. Then all but one of the raised hands glowed golden. The auctioneer glared. "Sir, you are asked to leave. My spell indicated that you do not have the necessary funds to begin bidding."

The representative from Alexacorp held up a large piece of parchment. "This is a line of credit backed by Countess Blightworthy and gives Alexacorp access to her bank account to draw funds for this purchase."

The Auctioneer sneered. "Then the Countess hasn't checked her balance lately. Did you think my magics were so poor as to not notice? Payment is in shiny gold coins or a fat bank account, and you sir, have neither. Begon beggar or I shall lodge a formal complaint against both your employer and the Countess." There was an intake of breath from the nobles. There were any number of reasons the Countess could have given the man a worthless document and embarrassed both him and his corporation. Indeed, several thought it was set up for just that purpose. But a complaint would not be taken well by the Countess or her lawyers. The man slunk away quickly.

"Then let the bidding begin. Do I hear 20?"
"20!"
"21!"
"25!"
"30!"
The bidding inched up, the auctioneer having to only note the bids by pointing. At 50 it came down to Chuck from Raxxon and Jerry from Tesladyne.

"55! Give up Jerry. I'm not quitting."
"60! Then that auctioneer is making a fat fee today. I'm not losing and not spending my own money. What do I care?"
There was a pause while they glared, and the auctioneer smiled, thinking of that fat fee. In the back of the group, a deep voice rang out.

"75."

Everyone turned to see who the new bidder was. It was a large man, sitting casually on a chair taken from a nearby eatery. He had a large tankard in his hand, and two young women stood nearby, each holding several more. Three empties were at their feet. The new bidder wore a red bandana on his head, and a battered Captain's hat and Jacket. A parrot sat on his shoulder with grey-black feathers and beak.

The auctioneer looked at him and cast his spell again. The Captain casually waved a hand in the air. "Not much on me, but there's a few treasures in the gnome's bank." Satisfied, the auctioneer continued. "I have a bid of 75 thousand gold from the Captain, do I hear higher?

"80!"
"85!"
"Let's make it an even hundred!" 

The auctioneer smiled with glee, the two corporate agents swallowed but steeled themselves for the fight. The auction continued...