Persuading the Vault Keeper
This operation had exactly one major obstacle — the most important one, and in some ways a harder task than pulling off the whole absurd scheme in the first place.
That was convincing the branch manager of the East Vault.
At least, that was what the Knight Commanders believed.
But then again... who could have guessed things would go this smoothly?
"It is an honor to be of service."
Neumann den East, manager of the East Vault, beamed at Arendt with a warm, generous smile.
Arendt curved his lips into a smile of his own and gave a gracious nod.
"And thank you for your cooperation. Thanks to you, we were able to take every last one of those villains alive."
Between the two of them, as their gazes met, there passed something that could only be called a bond.
The manager had been unable to take his eyes off Arendt ever since he had stepped back to let the young knight take the floor. There was something in his look that resembled admiration — though to anyone watching, it seemed far more like the expression of a bear that had just stumbled upon a pot full of honey.
Kendrick muttered with evident displeasure.
"I wonder why. I never thought of myself as a petty man... but somehow, watching that little scene leaves a rather sour taste in my mouth."
"A coincidence, Sir Kendrick. I was thinking the very same thing."
Diana murmured her quiet agreement as well.
Laios simply pressed a hand to his forehead and sighed, over and over.
Neumann den East was the younger brother of the East Merchant Guild's master, and the fact that he ran the Vault — the guild's primary business — proved he was no pushover. Courteous to his clients, his service beyond reproach. And since he was entrusted with safeguarding his customers' most precious possessions, he was precisely the sort of man who never, ever took a risk that could end in loss.
True to form, he had been startled to hear that an armed group had set its sights on the Vault — but the moment Laios declared his intention to fight a battle inside the building, the manager had promptly turned them down flat.
...
"That would be a problem. The building could be damaged, and... as I'm sure you understand, this place holds treasures that cannot be valued in gold. It isn't that I distrust you knights, of course. But I simply cannot afford to take the gamble."
At that firm refusal, the knights could only exchange helpless looks.
Ordinarily, the appearance of the Emperor's personal knights would have sent anyone groveling — but their opponent here was no ordinary man. If one were to pick the person most trusted by the empire's nobility, it would almost certainly be him.
The empire might be at peace thanks to the Crown Prince's efforts, but the nobles' power was nothing to sneeze at. If they antagonized the manager of the East Vault — sheltered as he was by those very nobles — they would likely find themselves tangled in a long and painful headache.
It was at that very moment that Arendt, silent until now, spoke up out of nowhere.
"Well then, let's call it off. It's not like we're the ones taking the loss."
"I beg your pardon?"
Arendt flashed a pleasant smile at the manager, who was staring at him in bewilderment.
"From the look of things, you're quite confident in your defenses — but I doubt the men coming for you today could be handled by anyone you might hire with money. You won't be able to deal with them at all."
"You mean to say... you intend to withdraw entirely?"
At the pointed jab, the manager's expression creased almost imperceptibly.
Arendt continued airily, as if nothing had happened.
"Oh, of course we'll have to catch the bandits. But asking us to absorb the casualties is asking a bit much, don't you think? We can't very well gamble our lives on it, can we?"
The manager's face went rigid.
It was hardly surprising — the man's own words had just been handed back to him in their worst possible form. And the Commanders, having missed their window to shut his mouth, could only press their hands to their foreheads and sigh in unison.
Arendt kept rambling on.
"Dying in the line of duty, sure — that's fair enough. A knight ought to lay his life on the line. But... do we really have to go that far to protect the manager's property?"
"That would be a violation of chivalry."
"Isn't a knight a person first?"
The manager shut his mouth.
He had been rendered utterly speechless. Neumann's eyes turned toward the Commanders — but they had nothing to say either. He could hardly fault the reproachful look in the manager's eyes, and their crime was exactly one thing: they had let Arendt run his mouth unchecked.
As an awkward silence settled over the room, Arendt casually reopened the negotiation.
"Well then, it seems we understand each other's positions now, Manager."
"Our... positions, you say?"
"Yes. You can't take risks with your clients' property on the line, and we find it hard to give up a tactically advantageous position."
Arendt shrugged.
"But you need to protect the Vault from the bandits, and we can't simply run away and leave them be. We are knights, after all — just as you said. So, in that case..."
Arendt's golden eyes gleamed.
"How about we look for a compromise?"
For that moment, at least, Arendt was neither knight nor traitor. Those glittering eyes belonged to a merchant chasing profit, pure and simple.
"You can't be serious. Are you proposing a deal?"
"Well, you do lead the East Vault. I'd expect nothing less than quick understanding."
For a long moment, the manager seemed unable to decide how to interpret this — a knight, striking a bargain with him. But at his core, he was still a businessman. The chill melted from his face, and he engaged.
"Very well. Let's hear it."
And with that, the conversation truly began. Arendt flashed a sly smile and held up a single finger — boop.
"You're preparing to strike out on your own from the East Merchant Guild, aren't you? How would you like a little help from us with that?"
...
At those words, the manager's complexion changed in an instant.
Diana, recalling the earlier scene, muttered in disbelief.
"That brat... how on earth did he know about that?"
"Honestly, I have no idea."
Kendrick, wearing the same exhausted smile, let his gaze drift to Laios.
"Truly remarkable. 'Prodigy' is the only word for it. If he ever decided to run a con, I imagine he'd grow into a swindler the likes of which no ordinary fraudster could even imitate."
"He's an absolute menace. I worry about the future. He'll be quite the handful."
Even Diana saying it left Laios unable to answer, his face twisting into something indescribable. Kendrick, understanding exactly how the man felt, patted his shoulder a couple of times in sympathy.
Not an easy man to deal with, this one.
Wearing his kindly smile, that was what the manager thought. He had already known it, of course — but every time he met those eyes, he found himself murmuring it all over again.
Standing before him was an apprentice knight so young that calling him a boy would not have been strange. Twenty, perhaps? His soft, smiling face was a beauty one would struggle to find anywhere in the empire.
Neumann slowly turned the memories over in his mind. There were few in this world with hair of flawless silver and golden eyes like self-luminous stars. And if that name the boy had given him — Arendt von Eckhart — was to be believed...
"I had my suspicions from the start, but it seems you are that apprentice knight of whom everyone speaks."
"Rumors, sir?"
Arendt reacted to the casual remark. Neumann nodded.
"There can't be a single person of consequence in the Imperial Capital who hasn't heard. Arrested for treason, and then — against all odds — you survived the trial itself."
"Ah..."
Arendt gave a somewhat rueful nod. He had expected it wouldn't pass quietly, given how much of a spectacle it had been. But he hadn't imagined the story would spread beyond the palace walls.
"And yet you were kind enough to hear me out."
"If the rumors are true, then you managed to persuade both the stubborn nobles and the judges present at that trial. I'd dismissed it as idle gossip, but... after speaking with you just now, I find it entirely believable."
The manager's voice was gentle as he continued.
"The ability to make people truly listen is a rare and special gift. And you, it seems, possess it in exceptional measure."
A subtle light entered the manager's eyes as he spoke.
"Ha. Naturally, the final say rests with the Commanders — but even they were left helpless. You provoked a man, then offered him a bargain, so that refusing would have shamed the entire Knight Order. A dazzling performance, truly."
Arendt saw no need to respond. But Neumann appeared satisfied with the silence alone, and nodded approvingly.
"I won't ask how you learned my circumstances. As you said, I stand in competition with the Guildmaster. That said, I have no desire to swallow the East Merchant Guild whole, greed and all. I simply wish to stand on my own two feet."
Arendt had promised him the exclusive right to supply the Imperial Knight Orders with their daily provisions. The other Commanders had been left baffled by the arrangement — but Neumann had found himself leaning in despite himself.
The sheer volume of goods consumed by the knights' living quarters was enormous — everything from the foodstuffs used to prepare their meals to every manner of daily necessity. The Orders' finances had always been managed autonomously by the Commanders and their officers. Until now they had procured supplies through the various guilds that provisioned the palace, but there was nothing at all improper about the Commanders exercising their discretion to change suppliers.
"That is why his offer was nothing short of brilliant."
For a man longing to strike out alone, there could have been no better terms.
"I already gave the Guildmaster my word that I would one day return the Vault and go independent, and I've been quietly laying the groundwork for a new trading company behind the scenes. Quite a few people have come knocking with offers of business — but not one of them ever saw through to that."
Most had simply assumed Neumann intended to expand the East Merchant Guild's operations.
"The palace is one of the largest markets in existence. Handle it well, and starting from the knights' living quarters, my influence could grow step by step. There could be no finer opportunity for a newly founded guild."
"Ah, so in other words... you mean to use me as the bridge between the palace and your new company? That strikes me as rather an excessive gamble."
"I've already left the East Merchant Guild. What remains to me isn't much. But a gamble with guaranteed profit is well worth taking."
In other words, the manager's willingness to cooperate this far had not been for the exclusive supply contract alone.
Arendt burst out laughing. Just as the impression he'd gotten from the novel suggested, Neumann was quite an entertaining man.
In the story, Neumann had tried time and again to go independent, until at last he fell out of the Guildmaster's favor. Then, to make matters worse, the raid cost him the Vault, and the East Merchant Guild cast him out entirely. It was a situation that might have driven any man to despair — but he resolved to build a new guild and claw his way back up.
Having lost everything, the manager had come to Laios and knelt before him. What he asked for was help securing a trading contract with the Knights' living quarters. And Laios, feeling responsible for the man's downfall, lent his aid — and so Neumann rose again. When the real battle broke out, he supported the knights in every way, material and otherwise.
Ambitious, overflowing with a merchant's instincts — but never one to carelessly discard a debt of gratitude or a bond once formed. That was the man standing before him now.
"But I'm nothing more than a lowly apprentice knight," Arendt said innocently. "And a self-confessed traitor, at that."
"I have already seen your abilities for myself. That should be quite enough, shouldn't it?"
"Then if everything goes under, none of the blame lands on me."
"I somehow doubt it will come to that."
Stubborn old man.
Arendt shot him a vaguely exasperated look, then shrugged and beckoned with a crooked finger — come closer, the gesture said.
Neumann sidled over as the young knight bade him.
"What is it?"
"You seem to be playing the long game... which makes me wonder whether lending us a mere vault wasn't rather underselling yourself."
"I rather expected you to say that. Merely cooperating with this affair wouldn't fetch a proper price for a man like you."
After all, in effect Neumann had landed his largest client to date while protecting the Vault without a scratch. From the Knight Order's standpoint — no, from Arendt's standpoint, the ledger simply didn't balance. The Neumann that Arendt knew was not a man who would let that slide.
"You want something else, don't you?"
The manager whispered the question with a meaningful smile.
Arendt made a face of mild disgust.
"What — you knew?"
"Heh. That's what makes me a businessman, isn't it? I suspect the Commanders have no idea, of course."
"Well then... this conversation just got much quicker. There is something I'd like to ask."
Arendt cast a quick glance around the room.
The knights were occupied cleaning up the aftermath, and the Commanders were too busy relaying orders to spare him and the manager any attention. Now was the moment.
"Tell me — is there anything... suspicious, stored inside the Vault?"