Free Intrigues: Book Two of the Collegium Chronicles (a Valdemar Novel) by Mercedes Lackey Page B

think we are risking our money, paying for lambs that might die and fleece that is going to be poor. They don’t know how widespread the problem is, and that we’ve rounded up the whole market and put it in our pocket. We’ll be the ones setting the prices, no matter what.”
    “And you made sure nothing can be traced back to us?” Chamjey asked anxiously.
    “Not a chance,” the man assured him. “I’ve used so many intermediaries sometimes it makes my head spin. By the end of the fortnight, we’ll have completely wrapped up this year’s mutton, lamb and wool market, and we’ll be able to demand whatever we want.”
    “Brilliant,” said Chamjey with deep satisfaction. “I’ll see about imported wool. I think I can get a high tariff put on it, in the name of protecting our shepherds from cheap outside wool. There’s just not that much imported right now that I think anyone will even blink.”
    As he swept up every single mote of ash, Mags was just—astonished. Somehow Chamjey—or perhaps, this unknown person—had discovered the misfortune that had befallen, not just a few flocks, but evidently the flocks across—what? Most of Valdemar? And now he was somehow going to make a lot of profit off it?
    : I think we’ve heard enough,: Dallen said. :I’ve already relayed all this to Rolan. Let’s return this stuff to the soapmaker and get back up the hill.:
    Chamjey and the other person were deep in a conversation about wool, which Mags didn’t think was going to interest Nikolas. :Right. Sooner I get out, less chance I get caught.:
    He put the fire things back where they belonged—because not doing so would look very suspicious, and because he didn’t want to make any extra work for the inn servants—and took his bucket of ashes outside. Once there he got his barrow and headed back.
    The soapmaker greeted him with a nod, as if she had expected he would not take long. She took back her apron, and thrust it at a rather grimy boy who took it cheerfully enough. When the boy was gone, taking the barrow back to the inn, presumably, she turned to Mags.
    “I hope you got what you were looking for, Trainee,” she said. “And I’m glad we could help you.”
    “So’m I, missus,” he replied with a little bow of thanks. “Ye saved me a mort’ o’trouble.”
    “Well good.” Then she grinned. “And you might think of sending here if you need soap.”
    He dusted himself off with the help of the girl, who brushed him down with a broom with a bit too much enthusiasm, and went to get Dallen out of their yard. Dallen was looking altogether pleased with himself, and Mags felt he had every reason to be.
    “So what’s Nikolas say?” he asked, as they made their way up the hill.
    :Well, the long and the short of it is—you know that example Lydia gave you? It was uncannily spot-on. While we were aware that the blizzards were causing some hardship, and we knew there was a plague of something that was affecting the flocks in the south, we didn’t know just how bad both were. Somehow, Chamjey found out, and rather than alerting the Crown via the Council, he decided that he was going to secure all the available wool and meat for this year to himself, so that he can command whatever price he wants.: Dallen, strangely, was not angry. He was not even annoyed.
    Perhaps because Chamjey had been found out . . .
    “Would that matter all that much?” Mags wondered aloud.
    :For the meat and leather probably not. One could use goat, cow—even wild animals for meat and leather. But the wool is a life-and-death matter for the spinners, dyers and weavers. Soren is going to be purple over this.:
    “Well, we proved we kin do what Nikolas asks us to, eh?” he replied, still not sure why this mattered all that much, but believing that it was that important to Nikolas and Master Soren.
    :More than that, Rolan and Nikolas really didn’t think Chamjey was up to anything more than a minor peccadillo—oh, it would be worthy of