stjorthotic Chapter 86: Rust Under Fingernails and a Poisonous Puppy
Chapter 86: Rust Under Fingernails and a Poisonous Puppy
Supervisor Pollifer stood beside the newly dug sewer, his boots already deformed from the sticky red mud, and it took considerable effort to pull each foot out.
He could smell the lingering odor of quicklime in the air, mixed with a metallic, acrid sour smell that had just seeped from the kiln's exhaust vent.
He glanced down at the walnut wood canopy in his hand, the charcoal stick trembling violently between his fingers.
Across from him, Ward Rivers was squatting at the outlet of the drainage ditch.
The bastard son of the Twins did not wear the flamboyant velvet robe, but instead changed into a neat hunting outfit.
With a delicate little silver knife, he picked out a gray crystal the size of a grain of rice from the seemingly ordinary pile of slag and mud.
Ward Rivers brought the crystal to his nose and sniffed it, then gently licked it with the tip of his tongue.
"It's bitter, with a leaden, astringent taste."
Wad Rivers stood up, rubbed his nails on his expensive deerskin gloves, and gave a smile that sent chills down your spine.
"Sir, your baron said that the mine tunnels here have collapsed and only some lead slag can be sifted out. But as far as I know, only the high-yield 'ash blowing' method of large-scale silver smelting would produce so much waste acid slag that it could burn the aquatic plants along the riverbank."
Pollifer's Adam's apple bobbed violently.
He found that his "pleading poverty" act was as thin as a sheet of paper, easily torn, in front of Frey, who had crawled out of the gutter.
"This...this is leftover residue from last year," Pollifer tried to explain, but his voice was so weak that even he didn't believe it.
"The dregs are dry, these are hot to the touch."
Wad Rivers pointed to the earthen kiln not far away, still emitting faint white smoke, and locked his eyes on Pollive like a venomous snake.
"The Baron's lung disease healed so quickly, so quickly that I'm starting to suspect that the injury he sustained in the Pike City corridor was also an act to gain the Duke's sympathy?"
---
Otto sat in the shadows of the study, his right hand unconsciously stroking himself.
He heard hurried and chaotic footsteps outside the door.
"Sir, he went to cellar number three."
William Charlton entered silently.
The boy carried a faint, alkaline stench from years of washing latrine buckets, but his eyes sharpened, like a newly sharpened dagger.
"How many men did he bring?" Otto asked without looking up, his voice low and muffled, like a pebble being ground in his throat.
"Both attendants carried swords. Instructor Torun was on the drill ground, while Gareth was changing the bandages of a wounded soldier."
William lowered his voice, his tone revealing a cruelty beyond his years.
"Sir, if he gets into the cellar and sees those Blackwood armor plates that haven't melted down yet... should we... around the corner..."
William made a throat-slitting gesture. His movement was natural, without the slightest hesitation of a child.
"Killing him would be a dead end from a legal standpoint."
Otto coldly pushed away William's outstretched hand.
"Old Wade is waiting for me to make a mistake. Once he dies here, the Blue Fork will be full of Twin Towers longships tomorrow."
"But he had already seen the acid residue."
William took a step closer.
"He wants not only the silver, he wants your life. My lord, you taught me that if you hold someone else's noose, either strangle him or turn him into a ladder."
William's lips twitched slightly, revealing a smile.
"I want to take him a bowl of soup, sir."
---
At the entrance to Cellar No. 3, the musty and damp smell was so strong that it was hard to breathe.
Ward Rivers was about to push open the slightly ajar hidden door.
He was convinced that behind that door lay Otto Hohenzollern's most shameful secrets—dark silver and stolen goods that could bring down his newly crowned baronial position.
"Lord Ward, the spring chill and dew are heavy, and the cellar is damp. Be careful with your deerskin boots."
William Charlton emerged from the shadows carrying a steaming earthenware bowl.
He kept his head down, behaving like a humiliated and subservient servant, his tattered linen jacket still stained with fresh dirt.
Wad Rivers stopped what he was doing. He looked at the former Charlton scion with disdain.
"William, I heard you're having a great time here?"
Wad Rivers took the earthenware bowl with a cold smile; it was half a bowl of wheat paste with specks of lard floating on top.
"What? Half of your father's territory was taken away, and you're here serving tea and water to your enemy?"
"Here, a bowl of hot soup is all it takes to survive, sir."
William's voice was barely audible, and his body trembled slightly with fear.
"Sir, I have something... that I would like you to take a look at. I found it in the old boots of the East Tower patrol team when I was washing the latrine buckets."
William pulled a crumpled piece of parchment from his pocket, revealing only a corner partially hidden.
Wad Rivers's eyes changed. He recognized it as "Blind Petyr's" private signature.
He snatched the paper and glanced at it in the dim firelight.
The contents of the document caused his pupils to contract sharply—it was not only about the whereabouts of the linen, but also a detailed list of his own brother's embezzlement of transit fees in the Twins.
"Where did you get these things?" Walder Rivers' voice became urgent.
"Before Petty died, he wanted to sell these to the Blackwood family."
William looked up, and on his mud-covered face, a smile that was both extremely innocent and extremely malicious appeared.
"But I buried him, sir. If you want the rest, you'll probably need to talk to me slowly over there in that deeper ditch."
William pointed to an even more sinister corner deep within the cellar.
Wad Rivers hesitated.
He glanced back at the hidden cellar door that was so close at hand, and then at the bargaining chip in William's hand that could allow him to crush his competitors in one fell swoop.
He gestured for his attendants to stay at the door, and then followed William into the darkness.
---
Otto stood by the window in the study on the third floor of the stone tower.
He watched as Ward Rivers disappeared into the entrance to Cellar Three.
He did not stop William, even though he knew William was playing with fire by abusing his power.
"Sir, William, he..." Pollifer stood in the doorway, his voice filled with genuine unease.
"Let him handle it."
Otto closed his eyes, feeling the chill emanating from him.
"Ward Rivers is too smart. Smart people always think they can control this kind of sudden 'luck'."
Fifteen minutes later.
William walked out alone.
He was slowly wiping his mud-covered hands on his overcoat.
He carried no scent of blood, but his eyes were colder than the icy river outside.
He walked to the foot of the stone tower and bowed deeply to the shadow of the top floor.
"grown ups."
William's cool voice rang out across the training ground.
"Lord Ward said that due to the spring floods causing water seepage in the cellars, the supplies in Warehouse No. 3 are 'too damaged to be inventoried.' He has decided to set sail tonight, taking the damp silk back with him, and while he's at it, he'll help you allocate another 30% to your pig iron quota for next month."
Otto looked down at the thin figure.
He won, but he felt a chill run down his spine.
"Polliver."
Otto's voice drifted somewhat in the wind.
"Silver production will increase by 10% next month. Since Walder Rivers wants a piece of the pie, we'll make him taste blood."
He turned his head and looked at the other side of the training ground.
Gareth was carrying a bundle of freshly chopped firewood past, his face covered in sweat.
In this territory, some guard the remnants of justice under the sun, while others grind their teeth for power in the shadows.
Spring thunder roared again on the opposite bank of the river.
The spring waters of the Blue Fork River grew increasingly murky, and the territory of Hohenzollern had become a black hole from which there was no turning back.