Ghreid inhaled the scent on the breeze and nearly retched. His first order of business would be to hire a taskforce to clean up the shores and install proper waste disposal mechanisms. Draenvir would be a good person to ask, so when Rydel returned, he asked him to draft a letter to Draenvir to send one of his infrastructure artificers and developmental architects to see to the process.
A simpering man with a weak chin cowered halfway up the steps, refusing to climb higher as Ghreid turned and stared down. “Should I come down to you, sir?”
The balding, weak-chinned male nodded as he retreated, and Ghreid hopped from the mezzanine, grasping onto one of the support joists before sliding his way down a pillar with as much grace as any dragon could manage. The display of prowess often made humans uneasy. “Human. What is this?”
Ghreid turned to face the wall of windows, looking at the mess on the horizon that wasn’t as visible from the observatory as it was the upper mezzanine.
“W-well you see. Sirs. The—the p-port is a cove, you s-see. It creates a doldrums there, and items often drift into the inlet.” The nervous man fiddled with his fingers and averted his gaze.
“I understand the basic mechanics, but how has nothing been in place for long enough for it to get tothispoint?” Ghreid gestured out to sea, and the human didn’t bother looking.
“C-city finances have been meager, you s-see.”
“Docking fees in the hundreds of gold. Forced conscription of soldiers that I amcertaincame with a bonus to the conscriptor.” Ghreid tallied things off on his fingers. “Stolencargo of abandoned ships… There should beplentyin the coffers.”
The nervous man cleared his throat. “Well, you s-see… Nobility has certain—”
“Ohhh, I see.” Ghreid put an endearing smile on and strode toward a windowsill to lean against a joist. “We’re on the take?”
“I-I wouldn’t saytake. We just have certain rights to—”
“Well, we have me to cut into the money now. Do we raise docking fees again?” Ghreid waited.
“They’re as high as most are willing to afford now. But I do say we are pulling in a tidy sum.”
“Your name and estate?” Ghreid turned his back on the man to stare out at the waste. Something about the doldrums and stacks where the resting ships lay made Ghreid uneasy, drew his eye. Perhaps his dragon knew of treasure. Perhaps something needed his attention.
“Bishop Camus of House Vulmar. The church technically still has dominion over the port town. It is the divine will of Baltheir that we prosper, the nobles.” The chinless fuckwit cleared his throat.
Ghreid took a deep breath against his will, as if something in him longed for a scent muddled amid all the detritus. Ghreid snapped his fingers. “Men.”
Armed guards stepped in and grabbed Bishop Camus by his shoulders. Ghreid, turning back to him once more, strode forward, folding his arms behind his back. He had a lot to say in short order, but most of it would fall on deaf ears. “I will lay waste to your estate. I will burn everything you own to the ground and let it fall to rot as you’ve let Port Monsmount. I will seize every coin you hold and dole out to your heirs enough to start a respectable life elsewhere. I will sponsor your daughters, and your wife, well…”
Bishop Camus choked on his own breath, a squeak of weak protest dying in his throat.
“Your god has no place in Port Monsmount anymore. Your god has abandoned you.” Ghreid moved in closer and sniffed. “And you stink of bodily rot. Your own loins have betrayed you. I’d offer use of my healer, but I’d much rather you die of the dripping-dick plague.”
The male’s face went pale.
“Raid his estate. Immediately. Also raid the other bishops’ estates as well as put guards on the clergy until such time as I can ascertain the extent to which their theocracy has raped this territory.” Ghreid sighed heavily. “I need more dragons.”
“That can be arranged, sir.” Rydel made a note on his paperwork. “How many?”
“Two. For now.” Ghreid stared out at the filthy surf and shook his head. “Organize a recruitment event. Contact the local offal management groups and have them begin making a plan for cleanup of the beaches.”
“Noted, sir.” Rydel made another note.
Ghreid stared at his hand as he picked at a fingernail, the gold in the darkness of it mesmerizing to most but commonplace to him. “And, Rydel?”
“Hmm?”
“Clear a spot in my schedule tomorrow so I can investigate the wreckages.” Ghreid couldn’t shake the feeling as he stared at the empty ships that something stared back at him.
A timid voice nearby cleared. “S-sir. I—those are international waters. We must proceed with caution. Any attempt toseizethose assets may be met with controversy.”
One of the local officials, a lawman of some variety, folded his hands.
“Then obtain clearance so that I may do so.” Ghreid sighed.
