Chương 32: Chapter 31 – Low Expectations

"There you both are," said Bracken. He closed the drawer he'd been rifling through and sat atop the desk, doing his best to look relaxed about it.

"What are you doing here?" Lio asked, coming closer.

"Where have you been?"

"What were you looking for in my desk?" Garron asked. By his tone, he thought he already knew. Garron saw all of Bracken's actions through the dark shroud of his disapproval, but that was fine. For once, Bracken's father probably saw him in a light kinder than the truth.

"Thought you might have a bottle of something stashed in there," Bracken smiled and shrugged in a way that apologised more for being caught than for the sin itself. People tend to see what they expect to see, and a self-indulgent disappointment was all Garron ever seemed to expect Bracken to be. The lie went down easy.

"But I also came to see you both." The fact that only the second lie prompted a narrowing of eyes from both Lio and Garron stung just a little. Granted, it was the less believable of the two.

"Sorry I've been gone a few nights," Bracken continued, his mouth laying down a story faster than his mind could manage. He only hoped he wouldn't trip on it.

"Edrin told me you wanted me to work with Lio on some big shipment. I got in my head about it, I think. It just felt like there was all this pressure, all of a sudden, and I'm still not sure that I even want to be a merchant, and I just… I'm just sorry." Lio, blessed Lio, softened at the words. He had the decency to look sympathetic. After a lifetime of striving to be the perfect son and brother, he probably couldn't see Bracken any clearer than Garron did, too busy looking for a younger version of himself.

Garron was less easily convinced.

"Ran out of money and come looking for a handout, more likely," he scoffed. Again, the words stung, even if they were a little bit fair.

"Father, please, I'm serious. I've been thinking about it a lot, talking about it with Passage, and I realised how selfish, how ungrateful, I've been. You were right the other day about what you said. My friends don't have the same opportunities that I do, and I've been acting like a child trying to squander them." Garron leaned back, nose wrinkling like he could smell Bracken's bullshit from the other side of the room.

A touch too contrite and far too sincere, Bracken gritted his teeth and realised he'd overplayed his hand. Even Lio looked a mite suspicious.

"…and I need money," Bracken added, lamely. Father and brother moved in perfect synch, tilting their heads back in acceptance of the truth. Garron looked vindicated. Lio; equal parts sympathetic and bemused.

"The truth at last," said Garron.

"So, what? You finished pissing away your silver, spent a night cold and sober for once, and finally realised poverty isn't a virtue? Now you come here, hat in hand, with your empty apologies to beg for a handout?"

"Father," Lio chastised, still taking Bracken's side more than he deserved.

"It's not like that," Bracken protested, sliding off the desk and standing up straight. He was still nowhere near as tall as his brother or father, but sitting down and slouching wouldn't help his case. The truth was that Bracken wasn't as good of a liar as he liked to pretend, so though it burned his cheeks and he couldn't pry his eyes from the floor, he weaved a little more truth into the lie.

"I just… I've been thinking a lot about the future. None of my friends have it easy, you know? Passage has the temple, and I think he'll be happy enough to take it over from his dad, but the others… they don't have anyone helping them. They don't have any education or training, no apprenticeships or inheritances. Nothing. Just a hard road ahead. So, Passage and I got to talking about how we were worried that things were coming to an end, I guess.

About how if nothing changes, we'll all probably start drifting apart soon. And we don't want that. I don't want that." Bracken bounced his gaze from the floor to the ceiling, feeling the pairs' eyes on him but not quite willing to look them in the face.

"I guess I had the idea that if I actually learned how to do what you do, then maybe we could all crew a ship together someday. Like maybe we could grow up without having to grow apart, I suppose."

"What a load of sentimental shit," Garron snorted with a roll of his eyes.

"That's harsh, Father," Lio turned on the older man, but Garron dismissed his eldest son with a wave of his hand. He finally made his way across the room to the desk Bracken stood beside and opened the drawer lowest on the right. From it he pulled a bottle of amber liquor and three glasses.

"But sentimental shit or not, I'm glad to hear you're finally thinking about things properly," Garron poured the first glass and offered it to Bracken before filling another two for Lio and himself. Lio joined them by the desk and accepted the drink, the wariness bleeding out of him with Garron's temper defused. He never could stand when the rest of them didn't get along. Bracken kept his mouth shut and waited.

He'd already said more than he'd meant to, and he had the feeling that saying any more would only talk him back into trouble. Garron held out his glass for the others to cheers against. They clinked glasses in silence and Bracken sipped his drink. It was delicious, despite the lies still clinging to his tongue.

"There's a voyage setting out tomorrow. A short one. Should only take a few days." Garron swirled the whisky on his tongue, seeming to mull his next words. He watched Bracken closely, sizing up the last and least of his spawn like the product of a poor investment, deciding whether he could still make a profit.

"Lio will be captaining the expedition and representing the company. You will accompany him and learn by his side." Bracken gave his brother an appreciative look. Captaining a voyage was no small responsibility. Lio looked suitably proud and predictably apologetic. He always seemed to think Edrin and Bracken would be jealous of the approval their father heaped upon him, never understanding that neither of them wanted an ounce of it. This book's true home is on another platform.

Check it out there for the real experience.

"Tomorrow?" Bracken tried to look curious instead of panicked. He couldn't just leave. There was only one trade he was interested in learning about, and he had to be ready to intercept the goods when they arrived.

"Don't look at me like that. Did you not just ask for a chance to be part of this company?" Garron asked, his frustration never far from the surface.

"No, yes, I mean, of course. I want to. I just hadn't expected it to be so soon," Bracken fumbled.

"Industry never sleeps," replied Garron. Even more constant than the merchant's frustration with his son was his smug desire to flaunt his wealth and his success. He drummed his ring-bedecked fingers against his glass and leaned forward, almost giddy with pride.

"Your brother and I have brokered a deal with the Magister to supply his Wardens with unique resources. We acquired the rights to a certain archaeological site a few months back and that investment is about to pay dividends."

"For the Wardens?" Bracken asked, mouth dry.

"Treasures to help them Stain new recruits. The Magister is planning a recruitment drive, bolstering the ranks. He's a good man, trying to do something about all the Hollows popping up in the countryside. Apparently, things are bad enough that he's had to resort to hiring low-Stained mercenaries like the Blackfoot and his Strays. Barely better than brigands, that lot," Lio chimed in, a blonde mirror of their father, eyes alight.

"Oh," Bracken nodded, downing his drink and looking frantically for a way out of the voyage. A perfect opportunity to steal though it might be, being so openly involved would damn him. If Lio and Garron didn't tie him to the theft, Edrin surely would. Shit.

"I thought you'd be more excited," Garron said, "Aren't you always fawning over Stained? Acquit yourself well and you'll be allowed to join us when we deliver them to Warden command. Perhaps you'll even meet a Drifter or Wayfarer."

"No, of course, I'm excited. I'm just surprised that you're inviting me to be involved in something so… major. I thought maybe I'd just start out with something small. Maybe a wine deal. Trading in Stained treasures seems like a big deal."

"Which is why you'll be observing and assisting, your brother leading. This deal is about the future of the company. If it goes well, and the Wardens like what we've found, then this could be our entire business hereafter. Six months from now, we could be supplying Wardens throughout all the islands in the Teeth, even the Heartlands themselves," Garron smiled, forgetting to pretend like he was made of stone for once.

He looked out the office window as if staring into the future, at the manor he would build himself atop the hill, right beside the Magister's own. Trust a merchant to trade in magic and care only for the gold. A knock at the door spared Bracken from replying, the three of them turning towards the sound.

"Yes?" Garron called. The door opened, revealing a guard and a shamefaced Passage looming behind him.

"Apologies for interrupting, sir," the guard hesitated, glancing at Passage with a hand on his truncheon.

"Found this one lurking by the side door, snooping. Claims he's friends with your son."

"Passage," Bracken fixed a tight grin on his friend and begged with his eyes for the big man to stay quiet.

"I told you to wait outside." The guard looked at Bracken, noticing him for the first time. His lips parted, an accusation perched between his teeth. He hadn't seen Bracken come in, alone or with his father. Bracken met his stare calmly, daring the man to speak and damn them both. Bracken might have snuck in, but the guards had let it happen. This guard was smart; he kept his mouth shut.

"I was," Passage replied, stepping past the guard, one hand ruffling the hair at the back of his head. The guard tensed as he passed. Passage may have been younger than the man by close to ten years, but it was hard not to be intimidated by a man his size, no matter how gentle.

"I tried to explain to this nice man that I was waiting out there for you. I thought you were going to bring me in with you to talk to your dad. Evening, Mr Mercer, sir."

"Must have been waiting by the wrong door," Bracken replied, grateful that Garron only seemed bored by the exchange. The guard looked between them, still suspicious, but apparently deciding he'd earn no favour contradicting the boss' son.

"Yes, well, Passage, do come in. Grab a seat," Garron gestured towards a chair and began pouring a fourth glass. It was a testament to his good mood that he didn't immediately send Passage on his way. Garron rarely had patience for Bracken's Gutter-born associates. Lio, friendly as ever, clasped Passage on the wrist by way of greeting.

"Thank you," Passage accepted the drink and sat with it awkwardly perched in his lap. The guard retreated with one final look of mistrust, closing the door behind him.

"We were just discussing the fact that Bracken has finally decided to join the family business," Garron broke the silence before it could settle in. The question he meant to ask but left unsaid lingered in the wake of his words. Both Garron and Lio looked from Passage to Bracken, waiting for one of them to explain the big man's presence.

"That's great," Passage said, eyes wide, mouth frowning. He'd never been a good liar.

"Yeah," Bracken agreed, setting down his glass and bouncing his eyes between Passage and the door. They'd avoided trouble, lingering now could only undo that minor miracle.

"But we'd best be off. I'll want to tell the others about tomorrow, say my goodbyes so they won't worry while I'm gone." It was the wrong thing to say.

"Tomorrow?" Passage asked, remaining stubbornly seated.

"Bracken's joining me on a voyage. Should only be a few days but it's an exciting time. We're off to collect genuine Stained treasures for the Magister and Wardens," Lio beamed. Fucking merchants. Always fucking bragging. If Bracken didn't rob them, someone else would unless they learned to keep a secret. He'd have preferred to tell Passage the details in private, ideally right before shipping off by himself to solve the problem he had caused them without the other four getting any further involved.

"That's amazing," said Passage. He glanced at Bracken and there was a flicker of disappointment in his face. Of course Passage saw straight through him, he was the only person in the room who really knew his mind.

"Did you get a chance to discuss the other thing?"

"What other thing?" Garron asked, still more interested than suspicious. Bracken had rarely seen him in such a bright mood, and all it had taken was lying through his teeth, pretending to be a good son.

"Nothing," Bracken deflected, standing.

"Son," Garron clicked his tongue, exasperated.

"If there's something you want to discuss then be upfront about it. A merchant needs to know when to be coy and when to be bold."

"The others and me, we were hoping for work," Passage spoke first and Bracken was forced to nod along with the lie.

"The rest of us aren't quite as educated as Bracken, but we're hard workers and can pull our weight. We'd be no trouble, I promise, if you'd have us." Garron smiled and refilled his glass, though he was already drunk on pride. The one time that Bracken needed the man to sneer his condescension, the merchant found the forbearance to grant his son a boon.

"Bracken will have a ship of his own someday, and when he does, he'll need a crew. It only seems right that you all start learning now, together." Bracken met his friend's eyes and smiled through his regret.