Arc 1: The Case of the Forged Silver Coins
Chapter 1 -1
The air was rife with the scent of burning wood, baking bread, fried fish, and fresh wood shavings. All of it mixed in the wind, but the baker crossing the cobbled street paid no mind to these mixed scents. He was used to them having worked in the busy markets of the capital city, Genad, all his life. Instead, he hurried into the exchange bureau with a spring in his step.
The baker carried four bags filled with silver from his baking shop to the first empty counter and smiled at the attendant.
“I want to turn these into gold denaris.”
“One gold denari is at twenty-five silvers.”
“Wasn’t it twenty yesterday?”
“You can thank the finance minister for the change,” the attendant said. “Do you want to make the exchange?”
The baker studied his bags of silver for a minute, then nodded his head and pushed the bags to the attendant. He needed the gold denaris to purchase the piece of land his wife wanted for their home. They had worked a year and a half to save the silver. They made periodic exchanges with the bureau so that they would be able to pay the land broker.
“Yes, I’ll make the exchange,” the baker said, with a soft sigh.
He had no choice. Their land broker had insisted on gold denaris.
The attendant took the silver bags and started counting them.
The baker felt a tight string of anxiety rise when the attendant pulled out a weighing machine. This had never happened before. As though sensing his surprise the attendant glanced at him and smiled.
“We have no choice these days,” the attendant said. “The silver coins have a problem. We need to weigh them to make sure they are not forged.”
The baker frowned but did not move to leave. He watched the attendant start weighing his silver. His frown deepened when the attendant pushed ten out of his twenty silvers aside. The rejected pile grew even bigger it could fill a bag on its own.
“Why won’t you use these silvers?” the baker asked, his voice shaking with a mix of fury and anxiety.
“They are not silver coins,” the attendant said. “The weight of these rejected coins is too light. They do not have enough silver to be considered for exchange.”
The baker slammed his fist on the counter and shouted.
“I disagree!”
The attendant continued his work, not moved or shaken by the baker’s protest.
“I truly cannot change any silver coins that do not match the weight. This is the new rule.”
The baker started to bang on the counter again but stopped when three bureau guards in silver-green uniforms came up behind him. Three tall and burly guards, each wearing a state-issued sword. Their silver-green uniform had fine chest armor and wrist bracers. The long skirts of their uniforms reached down to their fine leather boots. The silver-green helmets they wore made it so that no one could identify them.
The baker gave them a wary glance. They looked too intimidating to face, to say the least. He had heard the rumors of how cruel their training was; he had no hope of surviving a fight with them.
The baker sighed at the obvious bullying. He could only watch the attendant continue weighing his silver. Disappointment growing with every silver piece added to the discard pile. Discontentment rose, and it soon turned to anger.
“You can thank the finance minister for the new laws,” the attendant said when he noted the ugly expression on the baker’s face. “He is only protecting the kingdom.”
The attendant finished counting the silver pieces.
“You have exchanged five hundred silver pieces into twenty gold denaris,” the attendant said, counting out the gold denaris.
“The silver coins were one thousand to start. I should have forty gold denaris,” the baker complained, taking the bag holding his twenty gold denaris.
“You should but you do not,” the attendant said.
He bagged the rejected silver pieces and held them out to a guard the baker had not noticed before.
“Why can’t I keep those if you’re rejecting them?” the baker asked. “I earned them fair and square. I can find some use for them.”
“These forged silvers should not be in circulation. They will ruin our trade. Here is advice for you, Sir. Weigh the silver coins you receive from your customers. Take forty grams for each silver piece and nothing less. Otherwise, you will be at a loss. Thank you for contributing to the well-being of our empire.”
The baker glared at the retreating guard who carried his rejected silver pieces, then cursed the officials in the palace before he left the exchange bureau.
He was the fifth such customer the attendant had seen.
“We can’t keep this up. At some point, they will start a fight in our hall. Trouble brews in our beloved Lyria,” the attendant sighed, as he watched the baker cross the street. “These forged silver coins will ruin us.”
****
Late in the afternoon, a cargo carriage left the bustling port of Naga State, situated on the east coast of the Lyria Empire. The cargo carriage raced to the capital city of Genad. The long-established main road was even. The empire’s Ministry of Works had rolled it with fine gravel. The Naga King was also very conscientious about maintaining it.
Tall evergreen trees grew on each side of the wide road. They took up swaths of land that soon opened up to private estates and small villages belonging to the people who lived in the state of Naga.
The cargo carriage ran smoothly. The skilled artisans who built it had forged strong steel frames that secured thick solid blocks of wood to make up the body of the carriage. The carriage had no windows. It only had one solid steel door with an intricate lock. One needed a long key to open the lock. The person who locked the carriage and the one who would open the carriage at the destination each held a key.
These two people belonged to the Sura Clan. The Sura Clan made a living off mining, smelting, and blacksmithing. They had done it for so long that they had established a way of life, and grown into a culture like no other in the empire.
A seasoned driver and his assistant sat at the front of the cargo carriage. The seasoned driver knew to keep the carriage going without stopping. The four horses leading the carriage would get to the midpoint of the journey where the midpoint stationmaster would exchange them for a new set.
The horses ran along, fast-paced, confident…
The wind changed direction.
A tall heavy tree fell across the road blocking the way. The horses broke speed, and the driver did his best to calm them. Too occupied with controlling the horses, the driver did not notice the ten men on horses surrounding the cargo carriage.
One of the men pulled the driver’s assistant off his perch. The second man sunk a sword into the driver’s shoulder, pulling him down too. A third man jumped on the driver’s seat and took control of the horses, bringing them to a full stop.
“Should we check the cargo?”
“Not here. Naga has too many guards loyal to the inspector’s unit and someone might find us. We need to head northeast to the border of Storait Province and Naga. Our blacksmith will know how to handle the lock.”
“Very well. In any case, this last amount of black ore should be enough to serve our purpose.”
“You had better hope so. Otherwise, if the plan breaks, Lord Hulan will not spare us. Move the tree, get rid of those two, and let’s get moving.”
*****
Sui Writes 