The head of the Vesash family styles himself Captain Rodrik Vesash. The title remains a mystery to most of the residents of Berador; Captain Rodrik never served in any army, and he doesn't know the port side of a boat from the starboard. Nevertheless, Captain Rodrik they call him. He tends well to the doings of his large family and their massive holdings. Captain Rodrik has quite the reputation as a successful trader, a daring gambler and one with a gentle kindness to those around him. Even those "beneath his station" get proper nods of respect from the Captain.
Fair Trade
Captain Rodrik, a balding and portly man, strides out of the gold fitted double doors onto the balcony overlooking the "back yard" as he calls it. He draws deeply on the carved pipe clenched in his teeth. He pats his round belly in the fine white silk of his exquisitely tailored coat. The balcony sits atop great white marble columns that hold up the roof and provide a cover for the porch that winds around three sides of his manse. The "upper deck," as he calls the second floor balcony, fronts all four sides of the house with doors letting into the library and the great hall on the front and back of the house respectively.
He stares for a moment out over the well-ordered pecan orchard. The perfect lines of the great trees comfort the Captain. The steady movements of the laborers in the fields beyond comfort him even more. As he absorbs the peaceful scenery a rumbling wagon rolls around his home from the front. A team of four heavy draft horses pull the flatbed wagon piled high with evenly cut raw pine logs. Another wagon rounds the house and another. In all seven great wagons line up behind the house, each laden with pine and oak cut from the Vesash lands.
As he watches some two dozen younger men pour out of the surrounding out buildings. Most head to the stables and return mounted on a riding horse. Some mount up on the wagons. Still a handful of others return from the stables mounted on warhorses.
Captain Rodrik's son, Dale, emerges from the massive white house. He barks some orders to the assembled men and waits as one of the grooms readies his great, black warhorse. Dale, dressed in thick riding leathers with a sword at his side, looks fully in control and command. As well he should be. He learned to command at the Captain's knee.
When all is ready, Dale glances to his father on the upper deck. He draws his sword and holds it vertical in front of his face, a salute to his father, the Captain. He barks another command and the wagons creak into motion, one by one. A pair of men on horseback flanks each wagon and men mounted and dressed for war lead the party out of the yard. Another group gathers around Dale, and as the last wagon makes its way out towards the Road, they follow it away.
Captain Rodrik watches them leave with a wistful smile on his face. Not too many years ago he would have led the caravan himself. Now he leaves such things to his oldest son. The boy does well. He'll return in about a month or so leading a hundred and a half head of cattle. The Captain will make the arrangements in town long beforehand, and within a week of his return Dale will be off again to deliver the beef in twos and tens to this farmstead or that. The money will serve them well enough, but the goods they get in exchange will do even better. Such goods can be traded later to the Traveling Carnivals or even traded back to the original owners. Captain Rodrik has a knack for buying low and selling high, and it has done his family well for years. He looks forward to continued success for years to come.
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