"I also came because the Caliphate is quietly organizing something massive in the south..."
Ragnar stopped walking, "Hmm? What do you mean?" Ragnar asked, his voice entirely flat and deeply suspicious. "Are you a spy, then?"
For a tense moment, the wind howled around them. Then, Ardashir's serious expression cracked.
The wealthy trader threw his head back and let out a loud laugh.
"A spy?! Oh, by the heavens, no..." Ardashir chuckled, "I am far too wealthy to risk getting my fingernails pulled out in a dirty dungeon... No, no, King Ragnar. It is nothing quite so sinister as an assassination plot."
Ragnar relaxed his shoulders, "What is the Caliph doing then?"
"He formed a massive council of his best scholars," Ardashir explained, "The rumors of your explosive powder and iron ships have finally reached Baghdad. The Caliph seems to be planning to ask you to send him some of your manuscripts."
