Chapter 22: Barter (Patreon)

The game seemed simple enough. Breka set out a wooden board painted with thin, black, criss-crossing lines, each representing a lane of travel. Each player received seven merchant figurines, a handful of coin counters, and a set of cards that represented products like grain or timber. Pieces could be moved along any line, but there were a variety of tolls, weather hazards, and bonus goods laid out at the intersections between routes. Each side of the board had destinations that would pay different rates for different products.

“And finally,” Breka continued, “when two opposing pieces meet, a barter session is initiated.” She placed two figurines together at a crossing. “That’s a discussion between the two of us, where we decide which goods we wish to exchange before continuing on.”

“Do I have to trade during a barter, or can I just decide to move on?” Elliot asked.

“You can do whatever you’d like.”

He hesitated. Everything about this seemed fine. It would be a nice break from skill training, or being chased around the woods by Hadrian. He’d seen the look on the hunter’s face when Breka sent him to get the game, though. Elliot was missing something. 

“Okay,” he said slowly, peering at the board. “Should we start?”

“You may have the first turn,” Breka said, smiling faintly.

Elliot chose a merchant piece he’d assigned to carry silk and copper, and moved it forward to a crossing that promised a fifty percent bonus to all goods upon arrival. He half expected Breka to reach out and smack him as he plucked the extra cards from the main pile, but she just watched calmly.

Things progressed smoothly, with both of them making straightforward plays. It wasn’t complicated, especially compared to some of the wilder board games back on Earth, and Elliot felt like he was holding his own.

When their pieces met for the first time, Elliot glanced at Breka with a raised eyebrow. “And now we barter?”

“Now we barter,” she said, sitting back in her chair. “Take a moment to decide what you might want to exchange, then make an offer.”

Elliot glanced down at his cards. The figure in question had a fruit called glowries assigned to it, along with a case of ink. Breka’s had a number of different spices and nuts. It seemed like it could be a good idea to trade the glowries for the nuts, since he had a pretty clear route to a destination that would pay well for a nut shipment. But Breka must see that, so why would she agree to the trade? “Want to exchange your nuts for my glowries?”

“No. You will give me the glowries and the ink, and I will give you one coin counter.”

Elliot felt the world dull around him, Breka’s voice pressing into his mind like she was chiseling directly into the tissue of his brain. He could hear his pulse whooshing behind his ears, and numbness was spreading through his arms and legs. If he hadn’t already been sitting on the ground, he would have certainly collapsed.

“Yes,” he wheezed, mouth moving without his voluntary control, “we will make that trade.”

“Excellent,” Breka replied cheerfully, taking the corresponding cards and flicking Elliot one of the coin counters. “And that’s a barter. Now you’re allowed to move your piece directly to the next intersection if you’d like, or you can leave it there for this turn.”

“What the hell was that,” he choked out, scooting back several feet. The second the goods had been exchanged he’d snapped right back to feeling almost normal, except for a slight headache.

“That was a core merchant skill called [Barter], and the namesake of the game, although I’ll admit mine has been upgraded in some interesting directions.”

“Was that mind control?” Elliot snapped, still reeling.

“In a way. I enforced the terms of the bargain upon you, as I am significantly stronger and you have no mental defences. It’s a very limited form of mind control.”

His heart was still racing. It had been deeply uncomfortable, like he’d been half-conscious and someone else had been piloting his body, disturbingly similar to the inquisition. His lips tightened. “Why would you do that?”

Breka paused for a moment, eyeing him from across the board. She picked up a slice of travel bread that had been sitting on the arm of her chair, topped it with a chunk of the hard white cheese, and took a bite, taking her time chewing before she replied. “Why do you think?”

The leaves overhead were shifting constantly in the light wind. Elliot felt the breeze on his face, and forced himself to take a breath, slowing his heart rate. It had to be training, obviously. Breka wouldn’t just hurt him for fun. “Do you want me to gain the skill? Is this helping with that?”

“That’s one reason. Why else?”

Elliot frowned. It would be like any other form of training. When you worked your muscles they burned, but then they got stronger. “Is it…training me to withstand abilities like it? Training my mind?”

“Mmm. Good,” Breka replied, smiling. “Two for two. Ready to go again?”

He shrank back involuntarily, finding the idea deeply distasteful. An image of the Sunsguard interrogator haloed in a blaze of gold flashed through his mind. “Can’t we do something else? Hadrian said this wasn’t even planned for a few months. I’d do other work, I don’t need to rest.”

Breka sighed, taking another bite of her bread and cheese. Once again she took her time responding, her expression neutral. “I won’t force you.”

Something cried out in the distance, a high-pitched warbling yowl that made him start. Breka ignored it completely, and he forced himself to ignore it as well. The fake trader was clearly more than powerful enough to protect them, even discounting Hadrian.

He was torn. The compulsion wasn’t the worst feeling in the world, certainly not like torture. It wasn’t as bad as the inquisition, just reminiscent of it. Breka knew much more about skill training, professions, this world, everything. If she thought it was important, it was probably important.

But the thought of saying yes made his chest clench. It hadn’t even been planned for now; Breka made a snap decision to move it up. What could be so wrong about delaying a few weeks? He would still work hard.

“Tell him why,” Hadrian said suddenly, from his position in the background. He’d been leaning on the wagon, watching them play.

Breka glanced over her shoulder at the hunter, raised an eyebrow, then turned back to Elliot. “I told you children gain experience from almost everything they do until the age of fifteen, when they choose a profession. It is extremely difficult to mold a child’s progress, no matter what steps you take. I could place a five year old into a pit fighter ring in Marakeev for a decade, and the only thing that would meaningfully change is their initial profession, which might be fighter, or perhaps a more specialized pit fighter if they were particularly proficient. They wouldn’t get a single war skill before then, no matter what you did. They might get [Wrestling] or [Unarmed Combat], but so do children all across the world not assigned into gladiatorial slavery. That means the whole of the first circle and part of the second, foundational skills, end up being largely unfocused. But not for you.”

She leaned in, expression intent. “Your first skills, the skills with the most potential for growth and the greatest effect on your potential for profession advancement, are all within our power to influence. Not every useful skill for combat is confined to the combat professions. But more than that, there are skills like [Barter] that are used the world over by merchants simply to improve their salesmanship. It’s not meant to be a tool of war. The most gifted merchants can use it like an inspection skill, feeling their targets' needs and wants, and what they’d be willing to give up for them. You have a gift for sight, Elliot. Your ability to use [Detailed Appraisal] is already shocking for your experience level, and if we build on that your version of [Barter] could be a powerful information gathering tool. Not to mention the…other applications for it, which I haven’t seen employed widely outside of my own usage. It takes careful work to grow the ability in the right direction. Work you could do, if you receive the right form of [Barter] while still in the first circle.”

Elliot’s eyes widened. He could imagine the possibilities for a skill like that. The ability to read people that deeply, even potentially the ability to force a dissociation in combat if he could draw them into some kind of exchange, sounded wild. What would count? Could he just shout out a demand to swap their sword for a silver?

“I’m pushing you, Elliot,” Breka continued, “I’m going to keep pushing you. Harder than this, to be honest. The potential that arises from having a full set of curated foundational abilities, even within the constraints of a merchant profession, is exceptional. The more you struggle, the more you overcome, the farther you could rise. Gaining a familiarity with my evolved version of [Barter] now will hopefully put a weaker but similar skill in your options within the next eight steps, not to mention the effect of growing your mental resistance. There are skills for that as well, and merchants get plenty of them. It doesn’t end with [Barter]. Some core skills for merchants can be twisted to our purposes quite easily. When I said it would be uncomfortable, this is the beginning of what I meant. Not just lots of running. You’ll sacrifice, but I promise you I can mold you into a power, if you let me.”

“Why didn’t you just tell me this to start with?” Elliot asked slowly.

She shrugged. “It’s a precaution. There are some scenarios where the Beacon seems to frown on outside assistance, and outside information, when managing growth. As we are dealing with a wholly novel situation, the complexities of which are unexplored, I wanted to give you as little knowledge as possible. But Hadrian was right to interject. I was counting on your determination to find your sister to carry you through, but to accept the tasks I have in mind wholeheartedly, I think you need at least some understanding of what we’re doing.”

Hadrian had remained against the wagon this whole time, but as Breka finished he leaned forward. “The more you practice, the less the discomfort will be. I believe you can do this. And, even though we had not intended this training for some time yet, I promise you there will be no point when you feel ready. You must overcome your aversion.”

Elliot massaged his temples. His head still hurt, and the more he thought about experiencing the effects of Breka’s [Barter] ability again the more a sense of revulsion built in his stomach. Something about what Hadrian said rang true, though. There was no way he’d ever be comfortable with it, not even months or years in the future. The part of him saying he could try again later was just procrastinating. And Breka made sense too. At the very least, foundational power aside, he didn’t want his next experience with mental compulsion to be from an enemy. “Okay. I’ll go again.”

Breka grinned. “Good. Then move your piece, boy! Daylight’s wasting.”

The next time their figurines intersected, Elliot felt his pulse start hammering before he even opened his mouth to give an initial offer. He tensed his jaw, and pulled his shoulders back. This world wasn’t for the weak. “I’d trade you my shipment of wine for your glassware.”

“We will trade your wine for one of my coin counters.”

It was just as uncomfortable the second time, Elliot’s head beginning to pound immediately as his vision flickered. Again, his mouth moved involuntarily. “Yes, I agree.”

The game dragged on, only ending in an hour because Elliot’s headache had gotten so bad he could barely keep his eyes open without excruciating pain. At no point had the compulsion become even slightly more comfortable, or the idea of resistance seemed remotely feasible.

“Take five minutes, get some food and water, then you’re training your spatial pocket for an hour,” Breka said. She turned to Hadrian. “Then more situational appraisal while running.”

Elliot couldn’t even muster up the will to complain, he just sagged to the ground with a soft murmur of relief and squeezed his eyes shut. Tular couldn’t come soon enough.