The actual fencing turned out to be much less gratifying than Syr had hoped. Her score was five delicate chains (all of poor craftsmanship), three gemstones (two fakes and a very small but very real diamond), a golden ring, and a thoroughly ersatz bangle. The diamond itself was enough to pay for over a month’s food and board after Syr held her ground in the haggle. But even despite the victory, it was hardly the wealth promised by the initial sparkle of the jewelry drawer. And it was just deflating to be presented with the list of unhappy appraisals, each indisputable.
Syr bit back the frustration the best she could as the conversation turned to Glover’s services. As he had indicated, he did more than just deal in stolen goods. His home, here, was a “public house” with (he claimed) a nearly sterling reputation with all comers. Seafarers hoping to get away from the extortionate prices of seaside watering holes knew to find good ale here. Day laborers found the bustle and cheer welcoming. Even the hightown crowd needed a place to play dice where they wouldn’t get mugged.
“They… wouldn’t?”
“Not in my establishment and home, never,” he flatly replied.
He went on to elaborate upon the benefits of being such a gracious host and how they might extend to the gracious host’s friends. Gossip, connections, sanctuary…
Syr felt increasingly hemmed in by the mounting vague insinuations and polite deniabilities.
“What’s the catch?” she blurted out.
“Catch?” Glover returned her question with pristine manners.
“I’m… not going to rat on you, okay? If I did I would cause myself more pain than I would cause you. You know that. So please just tell me straight. What do you want in return?”
Glover’s hands steepled again and he gave Syr a long, hard look through his dark eyebrows.
It went on longer than was comfortable.
And still longer.
“I hope,” he began slowly, “to be a host and a friend who cultivates relationships without finding them so… constrained by transaction. You understand, I hope? I want to be a friend and be befriended in return.
“But like all friends I have expectations”, he continued, after a beat. “Loyalty and honorable conduct. Respect. Shared interest. Bonds worthy of nurture and of celebration.
“I believe we already have a shared interest and some level of respect for each other. Your talents and mine are complementary. We should, in a just world, make great allies.”
Syr chose her words carefully. “Sure. I don’t see why not. But you’re going to ask for something and I would hate for that to become a problem.”
Glover sighed. “Yes, I see. There’s hope for us yet. Maybe you’d like to speak with some of the others? Hear it from them. I’m good to them, and they’re happy to be good to me.”
Syr, sensing a way out and an opportunity both, leaned in, projecting cautious eagerness as best she could. “Oh. I’d like that.”
“Perfect. Come back tomorrow morning. No, afternoon is better so you can find some proper clothes. I’ll introduce you to Moog and Mr. Sparrow.”
“Who says I won’t show back up in this?” Syr wasn’t sure if she was trying to lighten the mood or just express spite under the cover of humor.
“Well,” Glover mused, “there’s no rule against it. But I have a feeling about you. You like to make an impression.”