"White Harbor is less an island than a ring-shaped reef out at sea. There's nowhere to farm, and it's packed with paupers who live entirely off the ships coming and going through the bay."
"But don't let the crowds put you off, sir. The more crowded it is, the more business there is to be done."
Barnaby's voice echoed through the damp air of the lower hold. He seemed immensely pleased to have two nobles listening to him.
"It's nothing but a rubbish heap, unless you want to do business with cockroaches and rats."
Andrei's voice suddenly came from behind, cold and disdainful.
Renato turned his head and saw the young noble, blond-haired and green-eyed, standing with his arms folded across his chest. Andrei's gaze rested on Barnaby with unmistakable disgust as he added:
"Believe it or not, the Hispaniola once stopped at White Harbor to take on supplies. I've seen the place. It stinks to high heaven, and it's filthy and chaotic. The water around the docks is thicker than mud. Beggars and drunks everywhere, barely able to walk straight..."
Barnaby chuckled twice and ducked his head, utterly unbothered by the young noble's disparagement. The pirate captain seemed not to care about Andrei's presence at all. He rubbed his fingers together at Renato, his tone carrying a hint of suggestion:
"Merchant ships from the north come stuffed with wine and silver, then trade them at White Harbor for spices and silk from the Old Continent. Slave ships stink so badly down in their holds they could kill an ox. Once they get here, they drive the people ashore and auction them off on platforms like livestock before shipping them on to the next island."
"Then there are the ships that don't even dare fly a flag. They slip in