Staring at the merchant's son trembling on his knees before him, Harlett suddenly rose to his feet and gave an elegant, proper noble's bow.
"Hello, Bernard. Though this is our first meeting, I've heard of you for quite some time.
As the most favored heir of the Roldan Trading Company's master, you began taking over part of the family business at the age of sixteen.
By cooperating with the Merchants' League, you tripled the trade volume along the route from Athkatla to Baldur's Gate in just one year, while doubling the profits.
By the time you were twenty-five, you had already become a seasoned merchant capable of standing on your own. You even expanded your business farther north, to Waterdeep, Neverwinter, and Luskan.
Because you put profit above all else, you never cared whether the goods you traded were legal or illegal, nor did you care who your trading partners were.
That was precisely why you earned your father's favor.
This time, you personally risked escorting a valuable shipment of contraband south to Calimport.
Your main purpose was to reach a long-term supply agreement with the Thieves' Guild there, which controlled the smuggling routes, ensuring that the Roldan Trading Company's most important and profitable trade route remained open.
But what you never expected was to be betrayed and sold out by your own blood relatives."
"How... how did you know all that?" Bernard's eyes widened in shock.
He simply could not believe that the other man knew him so well.
Especially those less-than-legal businesses in the north. They were usually kept extremely secret, and only a handful of core members knew about them.
Harlett explained with a smile, "I have many friends who are good at gathering information. So when I accepted this job, I asked them to collect some intelligence on you beforehand. I have to say, you're successful and outstanding as a merchant. But as the heir to a trading company, you're still lacking something."
"What do you mean?" Bernard frowned in confusion.
"It's very simple!
First, you weren't ruthless enough. You didn't eliminate those brothers and sisters who might have threatened your position at the first opportunity.
Second, you completely failed to understand that a trading company needs more than the ability to make money. It also needs at least a minimum level of armed protection.
Yet in pursuit of maximum profits, you hired neither adventurers nor guards to protect yourself. You ignored the shortcomings in your security.
Being captured by me this time is the best proof of that."
At that moment, Harlett was like a seasoned elder patiently guiding a junior, bluntly pointing out the fatal mistakes Bernard had made.
Just as he said.
In Faerûn, where dragons, magic, monsters, Rogues, and all sorts of evil forces were everywhere, being able to make money alone was nowhere near enough for a trading company to grow and prosper.
Clever merchants worked with powerful local organizations, such as the Mages' Guild, the Thieves' Guild, or the temple of some mighty god.
Cooperating with them often intimidated those lurking in the shadows with ill intent.
At the very least, they would spend some money to hire adventurers and mercenaries to escort and protect them.
But there had been nothing of the sort aboard the captured merchant ship.
There had only been a group of laborer-sailors whose combat ability was so low it could practically be ignored.
After hearing this, Bernard's expression suddenly turned dreadful. He retorted emotionally, "What do you know? Do you think I didn't want to? To earn more profit, to win Father's approval, to defeat my brothers and sisters, I could only cut costs to the absolute limit."
Harlett shook his head with a sneer. "See? This is the most ridiculous and foolish part.
Every year, you worked yourself to the bone and handed over the money you earned at enormous risk to the trading company.
Then your father took part of that money and gave it to your competing brothers and sisters, letting them search for new trade routes and open up new markets.
And what about them?
They always carefully hid the profits they earned, then used them to make allies and recruit or build forces loyal only to themselves.
In the end, some of them were not even satisfied with that. They wanted to get rid of you and take your place.
Remember this: never hand the right to decide your own fate to anyone, not even your biological father.
Do you remember the merchants' motto in Athkatla?
A merchant with wealth but no power is pitiable, because he will become a juicy piece of meat in everyone's eyes.
Power has never been something granted by another's charity. You have to fight for it with your own hands."
It had to be said that Bloodhand Harlett was a remarkably intelligent man with unique insights. In just a few sentences, he left Bernard speechless. The young merchant looked as though he had suffered a tremendous blow, both dejected and dispirited.
Because Bernard knew that not a single word the other man had said was wrong.
After remaining silent for a long while, Bernard raised his head as if he had accepted his fate and asked with a bitter smile, "Can you tell me who the mole was that betrayed this voyage? What terms did he or she offer you?"
"Sorry, I can't.
I'm a man who keeps his promises.
Since I promised to keep every partner's identity confidential, I naturally cannot reveal even the slightest useful information.
But you aren't entirely without hope.
If the client for this job doesn't intend to honor the agreement, then as usual, I'll draw up a new contract with you.
At that time, our relationship will change from enemies to allies, and you'll gain a chance for revenge.
All right, relax. I won't kill you for now, so there's no need to be so despairing.
Come, have something to eat and drink. I'm sure you've been hungry and thirsty for a while."
With that, Bloodhand Harlett pushed the seafood stew, hard bread, and wine cup before him forward, then made an inviting gesture.
It was clear that he was in an excellent mood. He even displayed the bearing, refinement, and learning that only a noble would possess.
After all, in Faerûn, knowledge had always been something extremely expensive and luxurious.
Ordinary people could barely secure even the necessities of life, much less have the opportunity to receive an education.
Only wealthy merchants and the noble class could afford private tutors or attend the costly academies in major cities.
That alone suggested that there was a considerable chance this pirate leader had been born into nobility.
Gulp!
At the sight of the food and wine before them, the four prisoners began swallowing in unison. Their stomachs rumbled loudly in betrayal.
Having gone an entire day without food and without even a drop of water, they simply could not resist such temptation.
Just as Bernard cautiously reached out to take the now-cold bowl of stew, a voice suddenly sounded from behind him.
"Don't touch that bowl. And don't put anything inside it into your mouth, unless you want to die."
Instantly!
Everyone present, including the pirates, turned toward the dark thicket from which the voice had come.
About ten seconds later, a human warrior wearing a helmet and chainmail emerged into view, holding a shortsword in one hand and a shield in the other.
"Who are you? What did you mean by that? Did my missing crewmen die by your hand?" Harlett narrowed his eyes and demanded.
At the same time, his pirates drew their weapons and surrounded the suddenly appeared stranger from both sides.
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