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Chapter 679: A Generous Return

“Your Majesty, I never disclosed anything discussed between you and Sir Thunder to anyone—” Margaret spoke quickly, her expression controlled but sharp.

“I know.” Roland waved it off and focused on Gammon with genuine interest. “Where did you hear about it?”

The ship itself he had never regarded as a secret, but it was a long way from complete — the bottom of the hull was finished, everything else still in progress, the entire construction happening inside a closed shipyard. The workers were local residents, selected carefully. If word had reached the Fjords anyway, someone in Neverwinter was in contact with people who shouldn’t know.

That would need attention.

“It’s known in the Fjords that Sir Thunder is recruiting crews,” Gammon said, “and on a scale far beyond any previous campaign. Many fine captains from Crescent Moon Bay have already joined him. The rumors about a magical steel ship came from Thunder himself — he apparently needs to overcome considerable skepticism about an ocean crossing west of Shadow Islands.” He smiled. “He wouldn’t have told us if Crescent Moon Bay hadn’t been useful to him.”

“How many people know?”

“Not many, Your Majesty. Only a handful from the senior members of our Chamber.”

“I see.” Roland nodded. “But even if I wanted to satisfy your request, I couldn’t — not soon. This kind of ship takes time we don’t have twice over.”

“We understand completely,” Marleen said. “We’re not asking for a ship now. We’re asking for the promise of the second one — whenever you’ve completed the transaction with Sir Thunder. Crescent Moon Bay is willing to pay a ten percent deposit today and forty percent when construction begins.”

They were negotiating a price they didn’t know yet for a ship they hadn’t seen. Roland had spent enough time around Fjords merchants to know this was not recklessness but something closer to instinct — a particular ability to smell value before it had a number attached.

“The city of Neverwinter also needs more than one steel ship,” Roland said slowly. “By the time the shipyard has capacity for a second hull, we’re talking two or three years at minimum.” He paused. “But — have you not considered the same arrangement you’re proposing for the paddle steamer? Send craftsmen to participate in the construction. Five-year or ten-year contract. That would accelerate your build and you’d learn the techniques in the process.”

Gammon’s laugh was genuinely startled. “You’re joking.”

“I’m not.”

“You mean—” He stopped. He looked at Roland carefully. “You would actually disclose the construction methods to Crescent Moon Bay?”

“Provided you can supply enough craftsmen. Not only blacksmiths and carpenters — apprentices too, and literate workers if you run short on qualified tradesmen. Two thousand people, delivered within five years. On those terms I’d begin the second ship next year and you’d bear the construction costs.”

“Your Majesty, I genuinely don’t know what you’re thinking.” Gammon shook his head with a wry expression. “Is this technology not your most valuable?”

“At this moment, yes,” Roland said without hesitation. “The steel ship I’m building for Thunder is the most advanced thing Neverwinter has produced.”

He was not making a fool of himself. So far was accurate, and who knew what five years would bring.

“Then why—” Gammon stopped himself, gave a resigned wave. “No. I won’t ask. Crescent Moon Bay accepts.”

Roland kept the reasoning to himself, since it was not the kind of thing a businessman needed to hear to make the decision. The truth was this: industrial technology could not be reproduced by skill and will alone. The Fjords could be handed the mines, the machines, the converters — and still lack the capacity to maintain the industry, because the industry was not a thing, it was a system. The first steam engine had made craft-based manufacturing permanently obsolete; the system now required a specific kind of accumulation of people, knowledge, and organized production that could not be compressed into a few clever apprentices or copied from a set of diagrams. He thought of the answer the Black Sea Shipyard director had given when asked what it had taken to build the Varyag: the central party committee, the State Planning Commission, the military-industrial commission, and nine commissions of industry for national defence. The steel ship was not nearly so demanding, but it was still the product of an entire city working in concert — Anna welding the core power components and hull, the common workers assembling parts distributed across a dozen workshops.

Technology spread was the inevitable direction. What he needed was people, not secrecy. Neverwinter’s population was growing but never fast enough, and every craftsman who came and stayed was more valuable than any patent.

Roland raised his glass. “Then — cheers.”

“Cheers?” Gammon looked uncertain.

“It means drink the wine down in one go. New etiquette of the king’s city.”

“Is it really?” The two men from Crescent Moon Bay looked at each other, then obediently drained their glasses.

After a while, Nibelung and Atiyer returned and confirmed their agreement.

Neverwinter received its largest commercial order to date: an immediate renovation deposit of four thousand gold royals, another four thousand due on completion; a construction prepayment of five thousand gold royals by year’s end; further payments to be set according to construction milestones. Roland could already picture Barov’s face when the figures reached City Hall — that tight, proprietary satisfaction the man reserved for moments when the numbers exceeded his expectations.

“While we’re at it,” Nibelung said, settling back into his chair once the business was wrapped, “we’ve heard there are perfumes for sale here as well, not only ships—”

“Miss Margaret signed a contract with me six months ago,” Roland said. “She serves as exclusive sales representative for the Fjord Islands once Shallow Beach port is open for trade. If you want perfumes, she’s the person to speak with.”

He watched Nibelung’s expression shift toward disappointment and added, “However, the city of Neverwinter is preparing to introduce a new product. You might be interested.”

He clapped his hands. The on-duty guard brought in three glass bottles.

The liquid inside was clear but colored differently in each vessel, and the bottles themselves — colorless glass, perfectly transparent — drew the merchants’ eyes before anything else.

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