Spice & Wolf XI (DWT) Page 13

  She was finally beginning to understand why merchants would do anything for profit, and why they were despised by the nobility: they could earn such great amounts in just a year. She could comment to Ora about how easy it was to earn money, and get to see the look of shock on his face. And the time when she could say that to him might not be so far away; it felt like she would be able to seize such a chance very soon.

  She downed the tall glass of beer like it was nothing, though it was much more than she normally drank. This was unusual for her, but it wasn’t a problem.

  “You won’t be able to make it home if you keep that up.”

  Milton finally broke his silence after a while. By then she really was a bit drunk. She ordered another glass, but quickly lowered her arm in embarrassment. Ora would not be impressed, she thought to herself with a smile.

  “Actually, I couldn’t fall asleep until after midnight, looking at the candles and thinking about how much we could earn.”

  “Twenty percent a shot, so we’d double things after four rounds?”

  He’d come to the same conclusion, but covered his own smile immediately by drinking his own beer.

  “Even I think that way sometimes, but I won’t let myself pretend things will go as I hope they will.”

  “Do you mean about Jones maybe taking advantage, or being unable to repay your loans on time?”

  Milton looked around them cautiously before looking back at her.

  “You might be being a bit too loud here.”

  “..yeah, but we’ve already signed our contract.”

  It might really be better to discuss this somewhere less open, but they were only talking here because they happened to end up here.

  “I might just be being over-cautious, but no company is ever pure and sincere.”

  He smiled as if mocking himself. Unlike their last meal together, they didn’t have beans with their grilled lamb. He casually picked up his knife to slice his meat.

  “I do sometimes work for them, but they’re just another group who will do everything they can to maximize their profits.”

  “It’s enough to drive one into a rage.”

  Last time, he could cover his expression by eating beans, but lamb wasn’t as good for that trick.

  “But I’ve thought about it. They could have charged us more cruelly. For instance, they could have charged for our introduction, or added unfavorable terms to our contracts. But Jones was being quite careful and polite this time.”

  “Should we be happy about that?”

  He tilted his head at her question, but it was obviously affected.

  “Indeed, they gave us such good terms it’s hard to believe.”

  He was obviously expecting her to turn her head away in jest, so after a brief moment of silence they both burst out laughing. The feeling rippled through their hearts like a rock had been thrown into a pool.

  “Then, let’s work hard together.”

  He reached his hand to her. She realized he was thinking longer-term than this one trade. Ora’s wisdom was always with her, but she also knew she had to treasure every chance she had to catch some profit. On top of that, two people working together would enjoy themselves more than working alone. Milton didn’t seem like such a bad partner.

  Fleur couldn’t remember the moment clearly, but it felt quite different from the time they met at Milton’s home. She found herself clutching his hand tightly. But somehow she felt pained to do so, and the pain would remain after she returned home. Still, at least she was now branching out on her own power. It was the first time she’d left home and stood on her own feet. The ground beneath her felt surprisingly tough, and the hand she held felt much the same way.

  Milton smiled and looked at her as they clasped hands, but this wasn’t a dinner table with white linen. After their handshake they smiled at each other through their beer glasses.

  “This way is best between merchants.”

  Hearing her say so made him show a sad expression she wouldn’t forget. He should be a great partner; she raised her glass and clinked it against his.

  * * *

  After that night’s dinner, Fleur reported the events around the contract signing. She included the duration, the charges, and the emotion Hans had suddenly shown. Ora’s eyes were closed during her report, but as she spoke her last word those eyes opened.

  “Let’s hope it all goes smoothly.”

  It was the same thing Hans had said. It seemed to be something experienced merchants like to repeat. Always having expectations, just never positive ones. The safest attitude to have.

  Their goods had been ordered, and they could begin selling them as soon as they arrived. Fleur had been so excited that evening that she could barely eat her meal that night. Her mind was filled with thoughts of the future, of being able to line up her life again.

  If only she’d told Ora about the order she’d signed as part of their dealings. Regret was the furthest thing from her mind back then, but of course it turned out that merchants weren’t saints. It took two weeks, but she finally came to understand how profoundly true that statement was.

  She’d been busy during those weeks doing things she’d never done before, with her own hands. She met with so many retailers that she began to trust in her own sense of the geography of the area. She spoke with the watermill about the wool clothes, and every villager she saw seemed to be buying new clothes. She was ready: they would make a killing on this deal.

  Her mind was completely full with the tasks necessary to sell the clothes they had ordered. Once this deal went through, things would be lined up well enough so that she would be able to take it easier and easier with each subsequent deal. She truly believed that would be true.

  Milton had been studiously learning from the servants of the nobility who came to the city, and confirmed their financial status and the latest fashion trends. Fleur knew about the city they were in, but not the far-flung castles surrounding it. It seemed a costly game, even if the servants told their secrets, they did so for money.

  She found herself amazed by how openly they did this when they came to town. She wasn’t naive to think they only came to town to purchase supplies, but she never expected such treachery. When Beltra had confirmed this to her long ago, she turned away in disgust. Perhaps Beltra, too, was disgusted by it.

  She had been so taken aback that she’d been unable to keep from asking Ora about it. In the process she learned that Ora and her ex-husband had once given another noble’s servant a large sum of money to hear the secrets about the family’s rough financial shape. She wondered if that maid vanished before the master of her castle found out. But Fleur had come to stop despising her actions; she was actually quite impressed now. It seemed clever people were everywhere.

  “Milady.”

  After speaking with a visitor, Beltra spoke softly to Fleur as she ate her lunch of cooked vegetables with a generous helping of cheese. There was a letter in Beltra’s hand. Ora glanced at her and nodded.

  “Thank you.”

  Fleur received the letter and opened it. She saw Hans’ signature, and read that the boat with their goods had finally arrived. She immediately closed it and held it tightly, rising to her feet. Despite normally chastising her if she didn’t finish eating, Ora actually let her get away with this behavior. Fleur apologized to Beltra and threw on her coat and scarf.

  “It’s time for me to go earn a lot.”

  Beltra’s eyes opened wide and she heard Ora’s sigh. But she simply tidied her coat and put on her scarf, then turned to leave. She was off to Milton’s living quarters in an artisan district. Back when Fleur didn’t realize her family’s privileged status, she had a close friend who was actually their servant. That servant worked in the same district now, and so she had introduced the homeless Milton to a building there.

  The world was made up of such an intricate web of social ties that it made Fleur’s mind wander off to Ora’s words on the matter.

  “Excuse me,
is Mr. Pabst here?”

  She had been getting quite used to straining her voice to sound like a man lately. The artisan she spoke to stopped doing leather-work and looked up at her, so she repeated herself. He finally seemed to realize she was talking about Milton.

  “Oh you mean Milton? He just came back and he’s having lunch. Take the stairs to the fourth floor and you’ll see him there.”

  “Thanks.”

  She thanked the young artisan succinctly, who smiled back at her happily. She’d learned that she needed to earn the favor of people like this young artisan the moment she first began working as a merchant.

  The narrow staircase reminded her of a water wheel spinning under its own weight. She was used to such lower-class sights already, and was busy reflecting on how much she’d learned recently as she came up to the fourth floor.. and was instantly surprised to not find a corridor with doors where she could catch her breath.

  She stood there huffing and puffing rudely, watching Milton eat his bread at his desk with a bored expression.

  “..Good afternoon.”

  He greeted her in surprise after quickly swallowing his bread. Fleur wanted to reply, but was awestruck. Eventually, she produced the letter for Milton.

  “It’s here.”

  That was all she said in the end, but thankfully there wasn’t much she needed to say. Milton jumped up from his seat.

  “The boat?”

  She nodded, to which Milton repeated her earlier actions of nervously taking his coat and immediately walked out. They flew through the crowded port to the Jones company - that was the only way to describe their movements. They were looking forward to this moment for so long that they didn’t even notice all of the people who stopped working to watch them as they ran by.

  “Where’s Hans?”

  The moment he asked, everyone - no matter what they were talking about or checking - pointed inside the company. After quickly thanking them, they ran inside. This was their step to becoming wealthy..

  “Mr. Hans!”

  Fortunately for them, Hans and his workers were walking out. Milton rushed over to him and called his name. Hans lifted his eyes from the paper he was reading and noticed them, handing the paper to the worker beside him and talking with them softly.

  It seemed there was big trade going on, and nervousness was in the air. But it wasn’t related to them, so the worker turned and headed down to the other end of the corridor. Hans watched his back for a time before turning back to Fleur and Milton.

  “You want your goods? They’re here.”

  He put on his business smile and crossed his hands over his chest. Maybe it was a joke the Jones company liked to play, so Fleur stiffly smiled and looked at Milton, who did the same. So she wasn’t the only one who was nervous.

  “By God’s blessing, what you ordered has arrived safely. It was nearly delayed by strong winds, but we didn’t mess it up.”

  Fleur smiled again to the smiling Hans, but she found it impossible to conceal her nervousness. Milton might have noticed it too, but he seemed to be at his limit as well. He jumped into the conversation.

  “So..”

  He got straight to the point.

  “We’d like to take them today, will that be alright?”

  Speed was the most fundamental element in trade, and Hans knew that. He nodded elegantly and pointed inside.

  “They’re in the loading zone there. I’ve already asked my men to receive it. Please come with me to check up on them.”

  So he’d even had their order received already? That was perfect.. but Fleur wasn’t going to forget that Ora always said to check her goods before accepting her order; protests after the fact would only fall on deaf ears.

  They followed Hans as he led them down the corridor. They could spy glimpses of the majesty of Jones company as they walked. Lavish maps of the sea and paintings of owners were visible, and at the end of the corridor was a door to a room with an amazing number of barrels, crates and pots.

  This was, after all, a place where the sea joined with the land. Despite having some sway in the company, even Hans had to make way for the workers entering and exiting the room. They weren’t just apprentices and young merchants; burly men were working there as well.

  As they left the corridor they were struck by the smell of wheat. It seemed that they were handling the spring’s first sacks of wheat.. the entire area was covering in white dust, and people were moving linen sacks as large as themselves. They, too, were covered in sweat and dust.

  Fleur and Milton were led to a crate in one corner of the loading area, still free of dust, proving just how long it had been sitting there. As they walked up to it, the worker who had left them a moment ago rejoined them, handing them a scroll he had been carrying under his arm. That iron rod beside the crate would be prying it open.

  “It all fit in one crate?”

  The worker seemed to have been prepared for such a question, presumably under Hans’ instruction. His eyes were sharp and he stood tall - a young man full of spirit. He nodded without saying a word, then lifted the rod.

  “Shall I open it for you now?”

  Why the confirmation? The two former nobles had never been asked such a strange question before. Milton nodded for both of them, so Hans told the man to carry on. The rod was poked into the crate and wedged upward to lift its cover. After it rose up a little, he removed that rod and used a smaller one to pull out some nails.

  “The lid and nails can be reused, though we’ll even break them when the economies’ good.”

  They could only nod at Hans. Every movement the worker and Hans made seemed somehow meaningful. When the young worker skillfully completed his task he stepped aside. He was likely not permitted to touch the actual products.

  Hans then coughed and handed them the scroll. As Fleur received it, Milton quickly stepped forward. Their first step together in trade.. one that so many merchants had to take in order to step out into the world. He then looked into the crate-

  “What?”

  It wasn’t his voice, but Fleur’s. But Milton also saw something he shouldn’t be seeing. He shuddered and spun back to her, his face pale. After turning back to see the contents of the crate, he snatched the scroll from Fleur’s hands.

  “What’s the meaning of this?”

  It was the kind of question one would only hear during a black-market trade. Fleur was shaking with such rage that if Milton hadn’t been there with her she might have passed out.

  “Whatever do you mean?”

  “Stop joking around!!”

  The wheat dust on the floor was flying up in the tumult. There were people pointing at each other like they were about to draw swords, so loudly they could even be heard in this noisy loading area. Some had taken notice, and were doing their best to listen intently.

  “You think this is a joke?”

  Hans’ expression didn’t change, though he seemed to be laughing at Milton while pretending to console him.

  “Why.. are the contents of this order so wrong!”

  He was so angry he could barely talk. He gripped the scroll in his hand so tightly one could hear the noise.

  “An incorrect order? Not at all. In God’s name, I swear there is no mistake. I purchased the products perfectly according to your list.”

  Despite his anger, Milton felt strange about the sincerity of Hans’ response. He suddenly relaxed his tense fingers and re-read the scroll in detail. In the meantime, Fleur walked up to the crate and peered at the blackness inside. It wasn’t empty, but full of black clothing. As black as her future now.

  “Why would you do something.. so stupid..”

  “That is precisely what you have ordered.”

  “How can you even suggest that!”

  In addition to Milton’s roar, the sound of the list scraping against the ground was heard as he cast it to the floor. He stared at Hans, but Hans only stood his ground fearlessly. Milton wanted to rush up to him, but was held back by the yo
ung worker.

  “It seems the honorable young lord wishes to duel.. but unfortunately we are only merchants. We need only follow our contracts. Surely you understand.”

  Hans’ eyes were dead cold, and an indescribable smile was on his face.

  Fleur eyed the scroll, which contained their signatures and the products they ordered. It should list different kinds of clothing for spring. So why? She bent her waist and picked it back up, re-reading it. Indeed, the contents of the contract had been altered. New lines had been added to certain words, changing the order to one for ”black” clothes.

  Why would they do this?

  A similar treatment had been given to the request for four pieces of ”silver” finery, which now ordered five pieces of ”amber” finery instead. There was no mistaking this.

  Her eyes went blank, and she clasped her forehead in disbelief. They had been played by merchants with absolutely no moral compass. Ora had carefully written their contract with Milton to prevent just this kind of chicanery, but by adding a few extra lines they had changed the words entirely.

  But it wasn’t just that he had changed the contract. Hans had intentionally played them like a fiddle. The moment he saw their list, he knew he could alter it. He subtly worked to get them to sign it so it became an official contract.

  And despite them knowing better, he expertly distracted them so that they forgot to ask him for a second copy of the contract. He’d played them for fools right from the start until the bitter end. They signed the contract and watched him toss it into his drawer, smiling at him like idiots.

  Fleur was so upset she couldn’t even cry. Monsters.. merchants were inhuman monsters.

  “We have a contract.”

  Hans spoke plainly and put his hand on his young follower’s shoulder.

  “So please pay us for services rendered.”

  The young man handed him his thick ledger and pen.

  * * *

  A candle burned brightest just before it was snuffed. Likewise, after Milton’s anger had subsided he was depressed. He didn’t say a word as they took their goods from the company. They hated the thought of asking Jones for help unloading the crate, so he and Fleur struggled on their own. Finally, one of the workers in the area gave them a hand and they managed to get everything onto a mule. But they didn’t thank him, they just paid him.