1: The Game Begins

The cards glided from the ordinator’s hands into the senator’s spindly fingers. The wiry man peeled up a corner, eyes unreadable behind his glasses.

“Bet ten,” Ren Haiat said. The tall young man sank back into the chair with a feline relish. He ran his fingers through his dark hair and smirked at the third player. The senator’s daughter.

The ordinator watched the three players through the slits of his white mask. His thoughts came in clipped verdicts.

Ren has something decent.

He never did like hiding strength.

Cornelia’s foxy green eyes darted to her father. To Ren. To her cards. To Ren.

Faking weakness.

“Call,” the red-haired girl said.

“Call,” the senator replied instantly.

The ordinator’s hand slid across the table, revealing the Gold Ten, Silver Queen, and Iron Nine.

“Check.”

“Check.”

“Check.”

Next came the Iron King.

The senator tapped his fingers and glanced at his two protégés. “Check.”

“Bet twenty,” Ren yawned.

“Call,” the daughter said after a slight thought.

“Call,” her father joined.

Finally, the Silver Deuce. Irrelevant.

The door slammed open. The household’s dispensator burst forth, expression red.

“Ren Haiat! Donella Hartsforth and her father are in our atrium, demanding your presence.”

Ren smirked. “Tell her I’ll see her again at the Pomerium Gala tonight.”

The dispensator tore the lounging young man from his seat. “You’ll explain to her father why he should not publicly condemn you, you…you—” The older woman couldn’t find a word foul enough. Ren mucked his cards back to the ordinator before being dragged away.

Cornelia glared at her father. “You still think he deserves The Maddeus? That’s the third girl this month. 300 years of history, Ren will break the name in months.”

“Bet 60,” her father replied.

He thinks he can goad her into a misplay.

“All in,” the girl replied.

The senator considered his daughter.

“Call”.

The senator flipped over the copper and silver kings, forming a triumvirate.

Cornelia produced the copper and silver jacks. A straight.

He gave his daughter a smile and wrapped her in a one-armed hug. “Well done, Nel. Lets stop for today.”

The ordinator watched the senator leave. He would now have his evening coffee for the next half hour. Aurian took off the ordinator’s white mask. Now was his chance.

“Marvelous dealing.” Cornelia flashed him a bright smile. Aurian’s face flushed; he gave a polite nod. Her smile was for the ordinator, not him.

“Congratulations on the last win, Ms. Maddeus. You seem to have the upper hand over your father in Saba these days,” Aurian replied offhandedly. His hands swept through the table, picking up the shared cards.

He palmed Ren's mucked cards, peeking at the corners before they disappeared back into the deck.

The Iron Ace. The Iron Jack.

Too bad Ren had left.

---

“Enter.” The senator’s voice carried through the heavy mahogany doors.

Surprise flickered in the mans eyes—only for a moment.

The man’s office was bright, the wall behind the senator’s red oak desk almost entirely glass. The walls were a shade of pale green that would have looked mellow in another room. Here, they shone in the sunlight.

Aurian was reminded of being inside a tree in the summer sun. It would have made for a light atmosphere if you discounted the intense aura radiating from the senator.

Approaching the man felt like trudging through water wearing with three layers of wool.

A senator of the greatest nation in the world. Almost three hundred million citizens providing legitimacy to his status. Fueling his name. His auctoritas was more than most so-called kings ruling over their handfuls of victims.

The man had suppressed it during the game, not trying to intimidate the other two players. He afforded Aurian no such courtesy. A senator had an image to maintain.

“How may this old man help you, my boy?” Maddeus said with a smile. The man was in his mid-fifties but looked barely in his forties save for his grayed hair.

The man spoke softly, but waves of power battered Aurian as the man’s aura rippled.

Aurian considered unleashing his own weaker aura to shield himself. It would calm his nerves at the very least.

Not yet. Not until the proposal.

“Senator, I have worked for you as the ordinator of your games for four years now. Have I acted to your satisfaction?” Aurian said, fighting to hold the man’s gaze.

The older man gave him an amused smile, used to hearing requests. “Of course.”

“And my grandmother?”

“A great aide in our library. One of the best.”

“As your ordinator—” he paused.

Sell the image.

Swallow. “Have you ever suspected I may cheat you?” Aurian asked.

The senator’s eyes narrowed. “Of course not.”

“Then as you trust me, Senator, I ask you consider my proposal.”

The senator’s eyes relaxed. “Go on.”

“You know about the warehouses near the western port? For short-term storage after unloading ships from the harbor. But maybe a quarter are for longer storage.”

Aurian looked at the senator’s face, then continued.

“They hold copper. I believe it’s part of the Republic’s national reserves.”

The senator nodded.

His face was still placid. Too placid.

Too late to back out.

“There’s a gang—I don’t know too much about them. But I have friends. I hear things. A member of the Vespers forged an ownership certificate of one of the warehouses. They brought in a republican requisitioner from a faraway province, Etrea. Got him to buy the copper for the Republic’s reserve. Now the Republic thinks it owns two warehouses full of copper. But it’s the same one.”

The senator gave him a smile. “Thank you for telling me about this. I will get lictors look into the matter.”

Aurian continued. “I thought it was strange. Surely it couldn’t have been that easy to defraud the state. I requested ownership records of the Etrean reserves. It’s public information. It took a while, but when I got them, it was revealing. Very little of the Etrean reserve was actually in Etrea. Much of it was here in Drova. The same warehouse I mentioned before was listed three times under different names.”

Aurian waited for a response. The man simply watched him with his pale eyes.

“I then requested records from every single province. All twenty-seven. I have only gone through a few. But, sir, I believe the Republic’s copper reserves are a fraction of what we believe they are. I have found dozens of listings of what look like the same reserve. The warehouse in question, from before, was listed in the records of eight other provinces.”

He handed the report he had compiled to the senator. Maddeus flipped through the pages, looking at Aurian’s notes alongside the copies of the official records.

“That is remarkable, Aurian Kamodus. We will need further confirmation, of course, but your work is sufficient for now. The senate must be informed at once,” the senator said, his voice carrying the appropriate amount of astonishment.

The hair on Aurian’s arms rose. His aura flooded out. Engulfing him in a protective bubble and rushing into his muscles, strengthening him.

“There’s another copy of the report.” Aurian blurted out.

The senator didn’t comment but his lips quirked up for a moment.

Aurian hadn’t wanted to say it. So crude. Tactless. It was better to start a relationship based on trust than threats. But the hairs on his arms were still up.

“We need to tell the senate and Arbortae, of course. But before that, I have an idea to help House Maddeus,” Aurian continued.

“How so?” Senator Maddeus leaned forward slightly.

“The mining corporations, and sometimes banks, sell insurance contracts to shipyards. A significant portion of an airship’s cost is simply the copper and aluminum that make up the hull—you know this, of course. Shipyards are given fixed-price contracts to produce a certain number of ships, or a single capital ship over, say, three years. But over those years, the price of materials may change. A spike in the price of aluminum or copper could turn a project unprofitable.”

“Yes, I know this, boy. They purchase insurance contracts to acquire the materials at a fixed price for the duration of the project,” the senator interrupted.

Aurian forced a smile. “Exactly.”

Silence. The senator waited for Aurian to speak, then his eyes widened.

“You mean to—?” For the first time, the senator’s smooth flat voice had a quiver.

Genuine surprise.

“I only wish to be help the house, Senator.”

The man stared at him in a moment of disbelief before laughing.

Hands on flat on his desk, laughing from his core.

He man’s aura withdrew entirely.

“Oh my. Boy, you are certainly a surprise. Maybe you should have been playing today, while I dealt the cards.”

“Have you done any calculations?” Maddeus asked.

“Yes. Standard terms are two- to three-year contracts at the current market price for ten percent of spot. But if you price the contract at above spot—say, twenty percent above—you can get the contract for as low as half a percent of spot. If the price rises fifty percent after the news breaks, we can make sixty times our initial.”

The man got up and draped one of his long arms around Aurian’s shoulders.

“I am glad you came to me with this, young man.”

“I would like ten percent of the profits.”

The senator laughed harder.

“You certainly don’t lack nerve.” The senator wrapped him in a full hug.

“Five percent. This plan of yours, as ingenious as it is, can only work with my resources.”

“That’s unfair.” Aurian protested.

He could get a bit more.

“Think of how much we can make. I have all the records already. You can buy the insurance. Then send my written report to every press in the country. The price rise will be astronomical.”

The senator mussed his hair.

“My boy, you are forgetting a few things. If your information really is true, I will be purchasing the insurance, risking my marks. I will do it through intermediaries, but it is my reputation on the line. Second—” A chuckle. “The senate will be outraged. The gentlemen who sell us the insurance will have many senators speaking on their behalf. Fraud, they will claim. If you were to try it on your own, no doubt you—a hapless twenty-year-old—would somehow be blamed as the mastermind behind the actual missing copper. Without me generating the political support, the contracts would be null and void.”

Aurian’s felt his mouth go dry. “Ah” was the only thing he could think to say. He didn’t expect to be taking out enough insurance for the gods damn senate to get involved, but clearly the senator was thinking on a different scale.

“So, boy, five percent is actually quite generous. And it will be contingent on a few things. I would need to fold you into my household as an official client. Can’t exactly have you as a political enemy in a decade.”

Aurian didn’t comment on the senator’s alacrity to close the deal. Perhaps the man knew he needed a Jack.

“I would be honored, but in that case I would expect a name as well—not anyone major of course”

“Of course, of course.” The senator rubbed his shaved chin. “Have anyone in mind?”

“Otelian. The former locutor. The man mentored me for a time before his passing. I would like the honor of carrying his name.”

The senator was still, then clapped him on the back. “Excellent choice. Old Otelian. He ran would be pleased to be carried by a upstart schemer like you.”

Aurian felt power flow into him as senator gave him the name of a patrician. A name with history. It was euphoric. He pinched himself, hard. He couldn’t let the rush cloud his judgement.

The senator worked out the details of the deal, tying Aurian’s fortunes and any future political ambitions to his own. The terms were generous. Aurian was given a stipend, a room, and little obligations unless he entered politics. Perhaps a bit too generous.

There was of course no formal agreement for sharing the profits of the deal. Aurian would have to trust the senator wouldn’t cheat a member of his own household.

And he doubted the man would risk shattering his name, The Maddeus, to make slightly more marks.

“It’s a shame you are leaving for the Pomerium so soon, Otelian Maddeus. I would have liked to get to know you better,” the senator said, emphasizing Aurian’s new name before finally letting go of his shoulder. The man had dragged him all around the household while working out their arrangement. The other staff, Cornelia, and even Ren had given him a double take.

“The loss is mine. I will be count the days until I return.”

“You must join us for dinner from now on, of course. And accompany Nel and Ren for the flight to the Pomerium. I know you three will accomplish great things at the university. I’ll have the arrangements made.”

The man put his arm on Aurian’s shoulder and gripping it hard. His face hardened, “The last Otellian, believe it or not placed in Class Three. You must not lower name.”

Aurian gave a resolute nod.

“I will unfortunately have to leave for matters of state tomorrow. By the time I get back, you three will be gone. I am glad we met, Otelian.” Aurian agreed, promising to return for dinner.

He drifted out of the mansion gates. It had gone better than he could have hoped. The senator had adopted him into his family. Not as a son, of course—maybe in the future if he placed high enough in the Pomerium—but just a familiar client for now.

But that wasn’t what occupied Aurian’s mind

The senator already knew.

Aurian had felt like a genius when he sold the warehouse of copper he didn’t own.

He wondered how great the senator felt, selling it over and over every month.