𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑩𝒍𝒂𝒅𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑩𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒅 || 𝐊𝐚𝐳 𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐤𝐤𝐞𝐫 𝐗 𝐎𝐂

Music to My Ears

Kaz and I reach the church in semi-comfortable silence. We hear VanEck screaming at a stadwatch solder and Radmakker. I nearly laugh as VanEck wiggles like a fish out of water.

"Would you look at that?" I say gleefully.

"Alys, don't listen to him. You're going to need to get Smeet to put up the funds for bail. Go to—" VanEck yells to his wife and a Stadwatch grunt pulls him down the aisle.

"I don't think Alys will be able to help with that," Kaz says.

"Brekker, you wretched little thug. Do you really think this is over?" Van Eck straightens, attempting to reclaim some of his lost dignity. "By this time tomorrow, I'll be out on bail and setting my reputation to rights. There's a way to connect you to the Rietveld fund and I will find it. I swear it."

"By all means, swear," says Kaz. "Make a solemn vow. I think we all know what your word is worth. But you may find your resources somewhat constrained. The custodian of your estate will be in charge of your funds. I'm not sure how much money Wylan plans to devote to your defense, or your bail, for that matter."

"I wrote him out of my will as soon as Alys conceived. Wylan will never see a penny of my money." A bristle of awe brushed through the merchant council members.

"Are you certain?" Kaz says. "I'm sure Wylan told me you two had reconciled. Of course, that was before all this ugly business."

"My will is perfectly clear. There's a copy of it in—" horror washes over VanEcks face. "The safe."

"There's another copy," says Van Eck. "My attorney—"

"Cornelis Smeet?" says Kaz. "Do you know if he breeds those watchdogs of his? Funny thing, when you train an animal to obey. Sometimes they get too easy to command. Better to keep them a little wild."

A double game. Smart man as usual. Kaz has been planning to give Wylan the VanEck empire. Good, now we'll have a mercher rather that a mercher runt on our side.

"No," says Van Eck, shaking his head. "No." With surprising strength, he shakes off his guards. "You can't give this cretin control of my funds," he shouts, gesturing to Wylan with his shackled hands. "Even if I'd wanted him to inherit, he's incompetent to do so. He can't read, and can barely string a basic sentence together on the page. He is an idiot, a soft-minded child." Gasps arise from the merchant council.

"Van Eck!" says Radmakker. "How can you say such a thing about your own blood?"

"Poor child. His father thinks him stupid when the stupid obviously comes from somewhere." I smirk. "Wylan is plenty competent to run an empire honestly, unlike his father."

"You whore, this at least I can prove! Give him something to read. Go on, Wylan, show them what a great man of business you will make."

"You needn't oblige his ravings, son," Rademaker says, laying a hand on Wylans shoulder.

"It's all right, Mister Radmakker," he says. "If it will help us end this tragic business, I will oblige my father. In fact, if you have a Transfer of Authority, I can sign it now and begin assembling funds for my father's defense."

"These were meant for Kuwei Yul-Bo," says Dryden. "But they haven't been completed. There should be a Transfer of Authority."

He offers the file to Wylan, but Jesper snatches it and thumbs through it.

"He must read it!" yells Van Eck. "Not the other boy!"

"I think your first investment should be a muzzle," murmurs Jesper, handing Wylan the documents.

Wylan clears his throat and pretended to examine the page. "This document, witnessed in the full sight of Ghezen and in keeping with the honest dealings of men, made binding by the courts of Kerch and its Merchant Council, signifies the transfer of all property, estates, and legal holdings from—" He pauses. "I suppose it will say our names here, Jan Van Eck to Wylan Van Eck, to be managed by him until Jan Van Eck is once again competent to conduct ... his own affairs. Do I really need to continue?"

"Certainly not, son," Rademaker says. "You've been through enough, I think." The look he turns on Van Eck now was one of pity. "Take him to the Stadhall. We may need to find him a medik too. Something must have addled his mind, put these mad thoughts in his head."

"It's a trick," screams Van Eck. "It's another one of Brekker's tricks." He brakes away from his guards and rushes at Wylan, but Jesper steps in front of him, grabbing him by the shoulders and holding him at bay with straight arms. "You'll destroy everything I've built, everything my father and his father built. You—"

"You won't get away with this!" Van Eck screams. "I know your game now, Brekker. My wits are sharper—"

"You can only sharpen a blade so far," Kaz says as we join them at the front of the church. "In the end, it comes down to the quality of the metal."

"Your getting better than you deserve VanEck. If it were me charging you, your bones would be shattered by a mallet, your sides filled with knives. There is no mercy in the barrel. If you had any wits you would plea to stay in a jail cell." I whisper to him. I grin as his face turns a ghostly white, reddened with rage.

"Maybe it's best that we don't handle this now. I find I'm a bit shaken." Rademaker says as Wylan hands him the documents.

"Of course. We'll see to getting the will from Smeet and making sure all is in order. We can send the appropriate papers to your house." Druses says.

"My house?"

"Won't you be going home to the Geldstraat?"

"I..."

"He will indeed," says Jesper.

"I don't understand," says Alys as her maid pats her hand gently. "Jan has been arrested?"

"Alys," says Kaz. "How would you feel about waiting out all this nasty business in the country? Far away from the threat of plague. Maybe at that nice lake house, you mentioned."

Alys' face comes alight, but then she hesitated. "Is it wholly proper, do you think? For a wife to abandon her husband at such a time?"

"It's your duty, really," insists Kaz. "After all, shouldn't your priority be the baby?"

Jesper nods sagely. "Good country air, lots of fields for ... gamboling about. I grew up on a farm. It's why I'm so tall."

Alys frowns. "You're a little too tall."

"It was a really big farm."

"And you could continue your music lessons," says Wylan.

Now Alys' eyes positively sparkle. "With Mister Bajan?" Her cheeks redden; she bites her lip. "Perhaps it would be best. For the baby."