Worldbuilding Prompt #734 - Jebbo's Bad Deal

This post was inspired by a prompt in the Worldbuilding Community - Worldbuilding Prompt #734 - Scams.

Enjoy !

The sun beat down on the harbour of Tiraz, the greatest port in the Sarassid Lands, although Kelos might dispute this claim.

A small party of half a dozen men moved from ship to ship along the pier, stopping for a few moments for a brief conversation at each. From their dress, it was obvious that these were not port officials. If anything, they looked like sailors, the same as the hundreds of others milling around the dockyard.

A closer look would show you that the short, slim man at the centre of the group was the one in charge. He was dressed no differently, but the body language of the others was deferential to him. The casual look was probably enough to fool the otherwise eagle-eyed party of Dockyard Constables in their guard hut, or maybe the regular bribes had done their job.

"Which ship is next on the list, Berli ?" he asked the tall man next to him. Berli carried a sheaf of papers, and was actually the secretary and accountant, even though he too wore common sailor's clothing.

"The Sea Snail, out of Cal-Teln, Dockrat. The clue isn't in the name, she's really one of the fastest galleys in these waters."

Dockrat grinned, a sharp feral expression. "I like it. They've done a good job of making her look sluggish and uninteresting. Let's see what they're about."

The group approached the small ship's gangplank, where a pair of crewmen lounged on fold-out chairs, sheltering from the sun beneath a pair of over-gaudy parasols. They may have looked relaxed, but their eyes were everywhere, and they tensed as they saw the group of locals approaching.

"It's okay lads," Dockrat murmured in a calm tone. "We just need to have a quick word with your skipper if he's aboard. Official business, you might say."

The sailor on the left raised an eyebrow sceptically. "We've paid our harbour dues, and you don't look like any official I've ever seen."

Dockrat's voice took on a steely tone. "Tell your captain that Dockrat wants to see him. Right now !"

The sailors snapped alert. Everyone had heard of Dockrat. Few knew what he'd chosen to look like on any particular day, but the voice he'd used left no possibility that he was anyone else.

Two minutes later, Dockrat and Berli were sat in the captain's cabin in comfortable chairs, while their bodyguards (for that is what the others were) kept a close eye on the sailors at the gangplank.

Captain Marrand was quite relaxed as he poured glasses of Cassaran sherry for all three of them. Putting the stopper back in the decanter, he spoke smoothly. "I'm sorry about my lads, told them to make sure no-one came aboard who wasn't crew. But of course, you're the exception. How can I help you ?"

Dockrat's quiet admiration for the captain grew. It was the first time he'd dealt with the Sea Snail, and he liked what he saw. A fast ship disguised to look like a sluggish small tramp vessel. Crew on watch who looked slovenly but were actually alert and tried to follow their orders. Best of all a captain who was calm and collected when most started sweating at the name of the most infamous underworld character in town.

"Oh, we're just seeing what's coming and going, and collecting donations for our Invalided Sailor's Hospice. All voluntary, of course, but we like to suggest that five percent of cargo value is a fair price to pay for the good our little charity does. So what are you carrying, and how much is it worth ?"

Marrand grinned like a Cheshire cat. He couldn't help himself, and knew he had to be honest.

"Well, Dockrat, we've got linen bundles worth about a thousand gold crescents. That's a casual cargo, good enough to pass an official inspection. Plus two large bales of catnip, for ten thousand."

Berli's eyebrows shot up in surprise, and Dockrat struggled to maintain enough composure to avoid doing the same.

"Who in the six hundred and sixty six layers of the Abyss pays five thousand apiece for two bales of catnip ? Are they mad ? What aren't you telling me ? Who is this customer with more money than sense ?"

The captain's grin grew even bigger. "We're taking them to Milmar. There's a chap there who is... well, calling him a moron gives morons a bad name. He thinks he's buying two bales of Avassari Green, so five thousand apiece would be a good price if that's what they really were. His name is Jebbo. By the time he's smoked a small sample of the real Green, he'll be so stoned we could sell him spinach and still have his gold and be away before he knows it."

Dockrat leaned back in the chair and sipped his sherry, smiling.

"Ahhhh, I've heard of this Jebbo. He did the dirty on an old mate of mine a while back. He's the worst drug dealer on the face of Argull, and now he's trying to break into the big boys' league. Well, well. I'm sure the street cats of Milmar will be hugely grateful when he finds out what he's bought."

He stood up, and bowed theatrically to Captain Marrand. "You, Sir, have made my day. Our hospice has no need of any donations today, but I would welcome the opportunity to buy you a drink next time you're in port. I think we could do good business together."

Note: We've met Jebbo before, ages ago, in https://peakd.com/hive-191038/@alonicus/worldbuilding-prompt-272-the-dealer - he's not got any smarter. One day he'll get himself into real trouble.