Chapter 237: An Empire Bought Wholesale

Night came down over the fleet, and the Rose waddled home beneath it, so stuffed with Spanish plunder that her keel seemed ready to make a formal complaint to the sea. The rest of the fleet straggled behind her like a homeward convoy composed entirely of thieves, which was, in fact, exactly what it was.

James lay in the netting beneath the bowsprit, one boot caught through a rope and hands folded behind his head. It was the first time in a fortnight he’d had both hands free, and he used them with pride.

Every man in the fleet had his share of the plunder already spent in his imagination and a plan to match it.

For instance, Doyle meant to buy the tavern cellar, then the tavern, then one more cellar to put inside the first. Anvil meant to buy a whale and considered it an insult that not a soul in the whole bloody sea could sell him one.

Beneath all those plans sat the two oldest certainties waiting at Concordia’s tavern and brothel. Rum first, women second, with the order changing by the hour according to the condition of the sailor.

James had a fortune of his own, too. It lived in his head, where no barmaid from Nassau to Port Royal could spend it and no merchant would accept it. Then again, some pirate who lets treasure sit idle is a fool by any measure, and tonight James figured he would no longer be one.

"Right, then," he told the stars. "Show me what’s mine."

Look who remembered he has a file. I had assumed you were dead and nobody had thought to tell me, so I have been forging your signature. I improved it. You are welcome.

🏴 [JAMES CALLOWAY - STATUS]

Rank : Honorary Chairman (Concordia), Pirate Captain (Flying Gang)

Reputation : The Scourge of the Antilles

Influence : Caribbean Sea Lord

Fate Balance : 550

I have also updated your reputation. ’Next Great’ has been retired with full honors. There was a small ceremony. I attended alone.

James let out a low whistle.

That sum has been sitting there for days like a dog abandoned outside a tavern. It has no hope of rescue, which may be why it has been the best-behaved thing in your entire file.

"I’m spendin’ the lot tonight. "

He laughed. "Every bit goes to Concordia. The Rose and the Dame and the Fortune already fight better together than a choir of drunk archangels, and every hull I add gets the same gift free. So I’m buildin’ a town so big the King of Spain drops his crown."

I thought I was dealing with a captain. Instead, I discover I’ve been speaking to a chairman this entire time. I have nothing to sit on, and yet somehow I am sitting down anyway.

James grinned at the sky and let the voice stew.

The shelves are open. Try not to touch anything shiny.

⚓ [FATE SHOP — INTELLIGENCE]

Bastion and Battery

Fortification plans for a headland bastion, curtain wall, gun platforms, and reef-channel batteries, adapted to Concordia’s terrain and with engineering principles a century ahead of its time. Includes surveying methods and artillery placement.

Cost : 180 Fate

One hundred and eighty Fate, deducted. Balance, three hundred and seventy.

The next listing appeared beside it.

⚓ [FATE SHOP — INTELLIGENCE]

The Foundry’s Art

Foundry plans and methods for producing and refining iron, with techniques drawn from the late 18th and early 19th centuries, for example coke-fired blast furnaces, puddling, and rolling mills. Includes furnace design, fuel management, and casting practices.

Cost : 150 Fate

James shot upright, forgot that his boot was caught through a rope, and ended up hanging by one ankle over the water enthusiastically.

"Three posts and a promise!"

He shouted at the waves. "A dozen smiths staring at their own hands, and me sailin’ past like a man dodgin’ a debt! Hagar’s gettin’ an anvil so big she can christen it!"

You are upside down. I mention this because you may have forgotten. I have kept that forge on file for weeks, it has a folder, and the folder has another folder inside it. Read nothing into that, and do not hug the accounts. I have prepared objections.

One hundred and fifty Fate, deducted. Balance, two hundred and twenty.

The third listing was about the harbor yard, and James, having hauled himself back into the netting, read it right side up.

⚓ [FATE SHOP — INTELLIGENCE]

Shipwright’s System

Shipyard plans and methods for laying down warships with unprecedented speed and consistency, using standardized dimensions, molds, full-scale lofting, pre-fabricated components, and systematic construction practices. Includes dry-slip design, keel-block arrangement, and methods for organizing multiple stages of construction simultaneously.

Cost : 120 Fate

James drummed his fingers against the rope. "Sawyer’ll marry the first keel that holds still, and I’ll stand godfather to the hull. I’m done stitchin’ up whatever the sea hands back."

One hundred and twenty Fate, deducted. Balance, one hundred.

He stopped drumming. "Here’s a snag. Sawyer’s the best carpenter in the Caribbean, and he’d not know a bastion from a breastwork if one fell on his foot. I need some soul actually capable to read the instructions for the fortifications."

I had a wager on how long it would take you to notice. I won, and I’ve taken my winnings in pity.

James snickered. "Then I want a man who knows the ways, some engineer, one who’s built a wall and watched it stand."

⚓ [FATE SHOP — PERSONNEL]

A Fortifications Engineer, Recently Unemployed

Trained in the French doctrine, with experience in advanced fortification and siege engineering. Dismissed for telling a marshal his fortress was an expensive hat. He was correct, and apparently the marshal did not appreciate the distinction.

Cost : 30 Fate

James grinned at the box.

"I love him already."

He will be standing on a wharf the next time you have business at one, looking dignified and cold. Recruiting him is your problem.

Thirty Fate, deducted. Balance, seventy.

Half serious and half because he wanted to hear the voice complain, he asked, "While the shelf’s lit, what’d Fateweavin’ cost me for somethin’ wee? A nudge. Make the King of Spain forget where the Caribbean is."

I have refused customers for lesser sins and framed the refusals. Some things are not sold to a fool with a full purse and half a plan.

James laughed until the netting shook.

"Half a plan! I built a whole town on a rumor and a hangover."

Since you are determined to spend, I will be thorough, and you will be sorry.

A bean that is not due in these waters for years, but which will keep the Caribbean awake and start two wars. A physic garden and the Peruvian bark. A Dutch windmill for your sawpit, which a Dutchman would weep to see wasted on pirates.

The method of a school and library, though I do not sell books, you would only look at the pictures. Providence, which I reserve for men in distress. You are lying in a net, it does not qualify. And a menagerie.

"A menagerie," James eyes lighted up.

The location of one, at least. It contains a lion with a grievance and a bear that has been baptized while the priest has taken up fishing. I am not proud of any part of this.

"I already keep one. It drinks, it sings, and it’s owed a share."

He turned down the rest.

When the voice offered whispers, he waved it away.

"Bran knew me name before I’d put me boots. It’s travelin’ faster than any ship I own."

It travels on a rumor I sold you long ago. It has aged well and begun breeding. I intend to take the credit.

The joking left him.

James told the voice. "One more, some method against the pox and the fever both. Sickness has killed more of sailors than any broadside, and it never once had the decency to fly a flag."

The fever I offered already, in a garden, and you declined. The pox I can do tonight.

⚓ [FATE SHOP — INTELLIGENCE]

The Rudimentary Vaccine

The method of smallpox inoculation, including preparation, dosage, timing, and precautions, along with the instruments needed to perform it safely.

Cost : 50 Fate

Fifty Fate, deducted. Balance, twenty.

The grin returned with the last coin.

"And the twenty goes on to have my people actually know how to read."

⚓ [FATE SHOP — INTELLIGENCE]

The Schoolmaster’s Method

A practical method for establishing a township school, with graded lessons in reading, writing, numbers, navigation, bookkeeping, and useful trades. Includes methods for teaching mixed ages and large groups without wasting a master’s time.

Cost : 20 Fate

Twenty Fate, deducted. Balance, zero.

You are now exactly as poor as you were the day you arrived, except that you own a wall, a furnace, a shipyard, and a strong belief about schoolwork.

James lay there longer than the joke required.

Beneath all the bickering was pride. Not the sort any ship of the line had ever given him, but pride in walls and forges and a school with nothing to study yet. He was becoming exactly the chairman he’d sworn he’d never be, only with a goat problem.

For months he’d worried that he leaned too heavily on the voice’s shelves, but tonight every currency had bought knowledge that would stand or fall with his own people.

Then his delusions were interrupted.

Anne leaned above him with the lantern behind her, having caught the tail end of his conversation but none of the answers.

"Talkin’ to spirits again, James?"

James turned his head in the netting, grinning warmly. "Spirit’s got fine taste, lass. Asked after you by name, said you were the only one aboard with a lick of sense, and the only one who’d hit me for sayin’ so."

"Did he now?"

He held a hand out into the dark.

"Come down and tell him yourself. The view’s better from here."