A particularly successful trader from an ancient race of
merchants, Phinehas sat back and fixed Kurga with an intent gaze over the tent
of his jeweled fingers. “The Sand
Sea.”
“Aye.”
“Aye.”
He
sat still, only the glint of his diamond mail betraying any movement as he
breathed. Kurga knew better than
to interrupt. “You are young. Perhaps you do not know that in four
generations not only has no one found a safe path through the Sea, no one has
returned from trying.”
“I
am not so ill informed.”
“Yet
you think it is not only possible but economical.”
“Goods
from the East, not in months going around the Sea but in days going through
it. The one who could deliver such
a thing would be a king.”
“And
a criminal. The Legions consider
it a demilitarized zone and do not want to waste valuable resources protecting
caravans.”
It
was the opening Kurga has been looking for to play his ace. “No they do not. But they do not care how many
missionaries wish to become martyrs.”
Silence. Outside the tent the bazaar continued
in full throat. Kurga made a show
of sipping his tea. The plan was
brash to say the least, the only way Phinehas would finance it was if he
believed Kurga was the kind of Panthera, bold and resourceful enough to pull it
off. Now was not the time to
betray nerves. Yet before the
expedition faced its first lethal trial, its life hung upon the knife’s edge of
a wily, old merchant prince’s perception of Kurga’s character.
Phinehas
laughed and Kurga relaxed. “A
missionary! You!”
“Why
not? After all, are not wealth and
prosperity the blessings of God?
Is a merchant then, anything but an fellow worker with God? An evangelist, spreading the faith,
sharing the blessings of those who have with those who need?” It was a little joke but Kurga was
rewarded with more laughter. This
was going well.
“All
very fine and very funny but even if I did believe you had found religion, my
young friend, I am not yet so senile as to think the Legions will. That is to say nothing of the Sandskiff
captains.” Kurga knew this too as
he had spent his first fruitless weeks here in this harbor town trying to
secure passage before fate intervened.
“Which
is why I am merely attaching myself to an existing mission, passage already
booked …which is a little short of the funds it needs to launch.”
The
old man chuckled. “Which brings
you to me. “The young lions are in
want and suffer hunger, but those who seek Yahweh will not lack for any good
thing.”” Kurga took that as a,
‘yes.’
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