"Hey, Vito—can you round up a couple of pawn-shop appraisers and money-changers for me?" Tiberius asked.
"Sure, kid. Valuing the haul, right?" Vito shrugged. "But you better brace yourself for the squeeze. Big batch of jewelry and mixed coin like this? They're gonna low-ball the shit out of us. Plus, it's all cursed loot—bad juju."
"Low-ball it is, then," Tiberius sighed, waving a hand. "What choice do we have? We can't just hand the stuff out raw."
He knew damn well this was a mountain of hot, blood-stained goods. Technically war spoils, but still "cursed." Values were all over the place, impossible to split fairly. Better to turn it into clean silver.
Pawn brokers were masters at turning "heirloom silk gowns" into "raggedy old cloaks." They could look you dead in the eye and swear the moon was made of cheese.
Vito moved fast. Half a day later he brought in two sharp-eyed middle-aged men—one a reputable city appraiser, the other a money-changer who did small deals for Rogare Bank. They carried tiny scales and single-lens monocles on gilded chains—pure professional flex.
Even though Tiberius had steeled himself for a brutal haircut, the appraiser's opening bids still made his eyes twitch.
"This Pentoshi gold piece—poor alloy, heavy edge wear, clipped three times, one hole, three tooth marks. Comes to three and a half silvers."
"Topaz ring—decent color, shame about the clouding inside. Silver setting is high purity but crude village work… six and a third silvers."
Tiberius couldn't hold back. He snatched up the coin and ring.
"Boss, you're fucking me raw here! Three silvers for this gold piece? And that topaz is still a gemstone! The craftsmanship isn't bad either! This isn't how you discount!"
The monocle-wearing appraiser adjusted his lens, face blank as fresh parchment. "Young master Tiberius, let's be honest. You're dumping this much at once—market impact is huge. We can't flip it all overnight. Some pieces shouldn't even go back on the street." He tapped a ruby ring. "See this? Stone's glass, but the band's rose gold and the chips are crystal. Has to be melted, recast, stones pulled—labor costs. This price is fair."
Tiberius still looked pissed. The appraiser met his stare without flinching.
"If you're unhappy, feel free to shop around. But I doubt many houses in Lys will beat our offer." He paused, then added meaningfully, pointing at a ring with a clear family crest.
"Everyone in Lys—hell, the whole Three Daughters—knows the 'story' behind these pieces. Takes… courage… to touch them. So yes, another discount."
"We're only offering this much out of respect for Lord Lysandro and 'the Honorable,'" the Rogare Bank man chimed in. "Don't make it hard on us, kid. Market's the market!"
Tiberius exhaled through his teeth and waved them on. "Fine. Keep counting the coins."
While the appraisers tallied the final number, Vito pulled Tiberius aside and whispered, "Kid, listen. They'll give you two totals—one that looks fat, one a bit leaner. Take the smaller one."
"Why?"
Vito gave him the classic you're still wet behind the ears look and slapped the back of his head. "Idiot! The big number sounds pretty, but it's stuffed with clipped, holed, debased, lead-filled garbage they've been sitting on for years. Take the fat pile and you're getting silver that might stick to a magnet. Real value's probably half. Trust me—take the clean number."
---
"Uncle, got a minute?" Tiberius stepped into the tent where Jules was sharpening his twin swords.
"Speak."
"So… the big payout from Lysandro is ready to go out, but could we… uh… pay my share first?"
The corner of Jules's mouth curved up.
"Smart little shit. Already learning how to buy loyalty." He sheathed both blades. "Fine. We're not due to pay the rest yet anyway. Go ahead and buy yourself some goodwill."
"Got it!" Tiberius grinned.
---
"Pay's here! Pay's here!" Inside the big tent the twenty-plus knights who had gone into the cave lounged on stools, shoving each other, cracking filthy jokes, bragging about their kills.
"Lightning Kid, what the hell are you doing in the captain's seat?" A red-haired knight with a goat beard spotted Tiberius carrying in a heavy coin chest and dropping into the head chair. "That chair's not for just anyone. You want it? Go to the Perfumed Garden and let the brothers watch you pop a virgin's cherry!"
The whole tent exploded with laughter.
"Uncle Garvin," Tiberius said calmly, thumping the chest onto the table, "I'm handing out the money today. All the loose coin and unclaimed jewelry we took from the cannibal shithole has been converted. We're splitting it by contribution."
"Hey, Little Boss Lightning," another knight with a scarred face and a warhammer at his belt cut in, "no offense, but unless Captain Jules himself walks in here, we can't take coin from you. It's not that we don't trust you—you're smart, you've got balls, you'll be a captain someday. But money distribution is the captain's job. Rules are rules."
"Yeah," Garvin added with a cold grin, patting his sword. "Last guy who took private gold behind the captain's back? Head came off. Hung outside the gate for three days. I stuck it on a spear myself. Harwin's right!"
"What the fuck is all this noise?" Vito shoved the tent flap aside, scowling. "Captain Jules gave the order himself—this loot and coin is Tiberius's to divide. Anyone got a problem? Want to ask the captain in person, or are you calling me a liar?"
Garvin's face instantly switched to a buttery smile. "Ah, Brother Vito, of course we trust you! No issue at all!"
Vito was crossbow captain, commanded two hundred men, was an old-timer, and Jules's right hand. Nobody wanted to cross him.
With the knights quiet, Tiberius opened the simple ledger Vito had helped prepare and started calling names, dropping exact amounts of silver.
The whole process was clean, orderly, no bullshit.
"Vito Coppola—sorted documents, killed three, executed the fishing plan perfectly, captured key prisoners. Forty-eight silvers."
"'Red-Hair' Garvin—led five-man watch outside the cave, spotted the Second Sons and reported in time. Twelve and a quarter silvers."
"Tiberius Mord…" Tiberius paused deliberately on his own name. "Created the fishing plan, 'persuaded' Miss Zera to join, killed Second Sons vice-captain Jon Starr in honorable combat. One hundred silvers."
"Kid actually counted fair…" Vito muttered, counting his own coins. "Thought he'd short himself—he planned the whole thing, found the cave, killed Jon Starr. One-tenth is generous. Tch, still enough for that Lysene Love Poems collection I wanted."
"Ha! Full weight, no clips, no holes!" a scarred veteran grinned, flashing yellow teeth stained by cheap wine. "Just like Captain Jules—fair, no games. These coins ring when you blow on 'em!"
"Lightning Kid doesn't just throw spears fast—he counts straight too!" another knight told his buddies. "Fair and square. My shield's wrecked, armor's scratched—he counted every bit!"
"Good stuff! Next time there's a job that needs brains and pays real, I'm following you first, kid!" Red-Hair Garvin was all smiles now, earlier suspicion forgotten.
Tiberius sat in the captain's chair, face calm, quietly closing the ledger.
He knew every man in front of him—including Garvin—was one of Uncle Jules's inner circle.
And now they had no choice but to accept Tiberius's authority.