Trade and currency

The dim glow of lanterns illuminated the negotiation room, casting long shadows across the faces of those seated around the heavy wooden table. Serrano, the merchant Jacob had sought out for this crucial trade, sat with an air of practiced ease. His sharp eyes betrayed a calculating mind, and the faintest smile tugged at the corner of his lips. He knew he held power here, or at least believed he did.

Across from him sat Jacob, arms folded, his expression unreadable. To his right stood Kwame, his merchant advisor, steady and calm as ever, a living map of trade routes and hidden economies. Garrett and Barret hovered near the door, their silence a subtle reminder of the muscle Jacob commanded should things turn sour.

Serrano tapped his fingers rhythmically on the table as if weighing every second before speaking. "You've brought quite the haul, Captain Black. La Fortune is no ordinary prize, and neither are the goods aboard her. Exotic silks, spices, weapons—these things fetch a high price in certain markets, but here? Here, they require a certain... discretion."

Jacob didn't respond immediately. His mind, though focused on the deal at hand, couldn't ignore the bigger picture. The weight of the freed slaves—especially the children—sat heavily on his shoulders. What he had done felt right, but it wasn't enough. They were safe for now, but without the wealth to build something permanent, some refuge for those he saved, it all felt like a temporary bandage over a festering wound.

But to get there, to establish a place where those people could live freely, he needed to play Serrano's game. He needed gold—mountains of it—and influence. Both began here, in this room.

Serrano leaned forward, breaking the silence. "I'll take the lot off your hands for twenty thousand silver coins, no questions asked. The ship, the goods—everything."

Kwame shifted slightly, but Jacob raised a hand, signaling patience. He could feel the merchant's eyes on him, testing him, probing for weakness. Twenty thousand sounded impressive to the untrained ear, but Jacob had learned enough from Kwame to know better. The silks alone, if sold at the right ports, could fetch nearly that much.

Jacob kept his tone calm, even. "Twenty thousand sounds generous at first glance. But I know what these goods are worth. You could sell those silks alone for twice that if you know the right buyers."

Serrano's smile flickered briefly, then returned full force. "Ah, but you misunderstand, Captain. Here, in Port Serpent's Reach, you sell to me. I take the risk of moving them across borders, of dealing with tariffs, bribes, and sometimes the tip of a sword. You're getting the price of convenience, the price of not having to deal with any of that."

Jacob met Serrano's gaze, unflinching. "Convenience costs, sure. But not half the value of the cargo."

As the negotiation continued, Jacob's thoughts turned to the mechanics of wealth in this world. In his previous life, money was a simple matter—dollars exchanged for goods, investments accruing interest, salaries providing stability. But here, wealth was far more volatile, far more dangerous. The currency was not just silver, but power, connections, and influence.

He had learned quickly that most of the known world operated on silver and gold coins. In the pirate havens like this one, silver was the most common exchange, while gold represented the fortunes that only the wealthiest could access. A family of four, in a relatively modest town, could survive on five silver coins a week. A small fortune of one hundred silver could support a pirate crew for months—if carefully managed. Twenty thousand silver, in truth, was a small fortune, but not for a ship like La Fortune, not for the wealth of cargo aboard her.

If Jacob were to truly make a difference, to establish the kind of power base he envisioned—a place where freed slaves and the oppressed could find refuge—he would need more. A vast amount of gold. Lands. Stability. Power.

"And the ship?" Jacob asked, pulling himself from his reverie, his mind clicking back into the conversation.

Serrano tilted his head slightly. "La Fortune's damaged, and while it's no doubt a prize, it'll need extensive repairs before anyone could sail her properly. Ten thousand silver for the ship alone, perhaps, but I would prefer to take the whole lot off your hands in one smooth deal."

"Ten thousand for the ship, and twenty for the cargo," Kwame interjected smoothly, his voice calm but assertive. "That's a fairer assessment."

Jacob glanced at Kwame. They had discussed this strategy earlier, pushing Serrano toward a better offer without making it seem like they were negotiating in bad faith.

Serrano's fingers paused in their rhythmic tapping. His eyes darted to Kwame for a fraction of a second, then back to Jacob. "You're pushing, Captain. But... I like you. I'll consider your counter."

Serrano leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest. "Twenty-eight thousand silver, and we part ways clean. You keep La Fortune, do what you will with her, and I take the rest of the cargo. That's as high as I go."

Jacob could feel the room tense. Garrett's jaw tightened slightly, but Kwame remained composed, eyes sharp and focused on Serrano.

Internally, Jacob weighed the options. Twenty-eight thousand silver was close to what they needed for immediate repairs and provisions. But La Fortune, while damaged, represented something more. It was an asset—something that could bring in a fortune elsewhere if repaired and sold to the right buyer. Serrano was offering to relieve him of a headache, but Jacob wasn't willing to let go of that potential just yet.

"We'll take your twenty-eight thousand," Jacob said slowly, "but we keep the ship and the finest silks. I know their value in the Eastern markets. You get the bulk, but I retain enough to make this deal worth my time."

Serrano's gaze lingered on Jacob for a moment longer, weighing him once again. But then, slowly, he smiled.

"Deal," he said, extending his hand across the table.

Jacob clasped Serrano's hand, sealing the agreement. As the merchant's fingers slipped away, Jacob felt a small wave of relief. It wasn't the full fortune he sought, but it was enough to set his plans in motion. Enough to move forward.

The meeting concluded shortly after, with arrangements made for the transfer of silver, goods, and the ship's repair teams. As Jacob and his men left Serrano's office, the cool night air hit him, offering a brief respite from the weight of responsibility.

Kwame fell into step beside him, his voice low and thoughtful. "You did well in there, Captain. Serrano is dangerous, but he respects strength. And now, with some of the finest silks still in our hold, we have leverage when we reach the next port."

Jacob nodded but said nothing. His mind was already on the next step. Twenty-eight thousand silver would cover their immediate needs, but there was still so much more to do. He couldn't afford to linger here long.

As they walked through the winding streets of Port Serpent's Reach, Jacob's thoughts turned back to the future. He needed more than silver and ships. He needed land, wealth, and a place to call his own—somewhere he could offer refuge, somewhere the people he freed could live without fear of being captured again.

But to get there, he would need far more than just deals with merchants. He needed a plan to change the very seas themselves.

And that, he knew, was a far more dangerous game.