Spice & Wolf XI (DWT) Page 9

  “And that’s why you began to trade?”

  It seemed he’d been expelled from his home. He once again ate some beans, this time to conceal a smile of bitterness.

  “Lucky for me, the Pabst name opens many doors. My love of wine, food, and talk leads me to many dinners when I travel, so I always find places in need of my kind. Indeed, it seems there’s a place for me everywhere I go.”

  After Fleur’s husband died, and the family’s various holdings and properties were sold off, she earned her servants’ admiration by taking it all in stride. But that wasn’t her acting tough - she was just rolling with life’s punches. That was the kind of “toughness” she was feeling now from Pabst.

  “I hear you’re quite the trader.”

  “Haha.. it’s embarrassing being praised, but I will admit that I’m confident.”

  There were many who abused their family name to make a living. Milton, who left his home to trade, seemed to understand that he could only keep soaring in the heavens like an angel for so long; when he lost his wings, that superiority and prestige would be gone with them.

  Frankly speaking, Fleur admired him for realizing his place in the world and standing on his own feet. So much so that she unconsciously kept talking.

  “Just what is it.. your method..?”

  According to Ora, anyone who revealed his methods wasn’t fit to be called a merchant. She immediately regretted asking the question so stupidly, but Pabst squinted and revealed an obviously-exaggerated smile. As she fumbled around trying to find the words to salvage the situation, he raised his eyes and spoke.

  “Facing yourself, and understanding yourself.”

  She didn’t know what he meant. She just stared into his beautiful blue eyes.

  “That’s my method. Lots of my friends trade, but they treat trades as one-time deals. They treat themselves as being on the same level as their customers, and so they’re doomed to not leave an impression. Not me; I tell my customers that the Pabst name can open the doors of opportunity. That way, even if they laugh, they remember me and all the good qualities of the clothes I sell - and keep selling. Since I always brought good clothes, selling them wasn’t a problem.”

  The words flowed out of his mouth like water, and he smiled when he finished.

  “And any business partner would treasure that.”

  He downed the rest of his wine, and poured himself some more. Fleur was silent, but not because of what he said. The awe she felt at finding a kindred spirit filled her chest and blocked her throat.

  “Haha.. did I leave you speechless?”

  “No, no..”

  “However-”

  Pabst handed the shop owner a coin, who was handing him some more wine. He continued.

  “I did all of this because I have a goal.”

  When she heard that, Fleur could practically see an illusory girl standing behind him.. but that didn’t turn out to be the case at all.

  “I want to.. show off to my family.”

  Once again, beans were being eaten to conceal a smile. Fleur regarded him seriously.

  “I’m not doing this to honor the Pabst name. I want to prove that they can expel me, but I’ll still do well. I want to be able to stand tall before them, even if I have to kneel to get to the point where I can do so.. well, as a merchant, of course.”

  Such determination.. Fleur found it difficult to keep her hand from moving. Had they not been at a noisy wine tavern by the business sector, and had the rough table been a finer one with a white cloth draped over it, her hand might well have reached out to take his. She only stopped because she’d made up her mind: she was going to work with him.

  “So..”

  “Yes?”

  Her throat still felt like it was stuck; she tilted her chin to speak.

  “I hear you’re looking for a backer.”

  Merchants had no trouble shifting their attitudes as the situation demanded it. She regarded him as a merchant, so she spoke in a merchant’s tone. He seemed to be smiling, and she didn’t feel this was the wrong course to take.

  “That’s true.”

  She breathed in deeply.

  “How much?”

  It turned out to be an amount that she could afford.

  * * *

  That night’s soup was so rich with bread, beans, onions and meat that if you ate a couple bowls, you wouldn’t be hungry for a couple of days. And in spite of that richness, it was even topped with cheese. It would be perfectly acceptable for a table of nobles. That’s how good Beltra was, who tended the understaffed kitchen.

  Given how poor the Boland family had become, Beltra had become proficient at using inexpensive ingredients. Even Ora, as experienced a merchant as he was, was shocked when she told him how much they cost. She was just that good. When it came to cooking, Beltra’s spoon was peerless.

  “They were the loaves of bread rejected by the bakery, because they were too tough to eat but were still perfect for soup. I traded some of our extra spices to the lady three houses down for onions, and the meat’s just the chickens that wandered into our house.”

  When she was younger Fleur had been sternly warned not to set up traps in the backyard. Thus she had always been unaware that traps had been laid to capture the ingredients for their dinner, so it came to her as quite a surprise.

  However, such traps had been the work of aged gardeners back in their old residence while Beltra was now using their techniques in the central courtyard. As such, both Fleur and Ora knew perfectly well that these chickens had not just accidentally wandered in.

  But there were a lot of animals wandering around town, even more than in the forests and on the plains. “Borrowing” one or two of them wasn’t going to cause a fuss. Ora gave her his usual praise but, unusually, Fleur ate without saying anything in appreciation.

  “Milady?”

  She nearly dropped her spoon, startled by his sudden questioning tone. Because all of their silverware had been sold, it was just a cheap tin spoon. Beltra was sometimes frustrated to catch herself polishing their tinware out of habit, but Fleur much preferred the practicality of such frugal instruments.

  “Oh, mm, this tastes good..”

  Both of them looked at her, surprised by her nervousness.

  “R-really.”

  This time, they turned to look at each other. Fleur tore at her bread and shoved some in her mouth. It was tough, but at least this way she could be quiet for a while.

  “Did anything happen with Pabst?”

  Her heart was beating so loudly that she could hear it. Ora, too, might have been able to, but she turned away and shoved more bread into her mouth before she’d even swallowed the first piece.

  “Oh, is this about a new trade?”

  Beltra was a master of housework, but was strangely slow when it came to other things. Then again, she seemed to be probing this time, rather than asking, so Fleur ignored her and drank some ale.

  “It’s a basic principle of trading..”

  Ora spoke up just as Fleur stood up.

  “..To not get too close to your customers.”

  Her heart suddenly calmed, and she glared at him coldly for the accusation. Yet he didn’t back down.

  “For trades to go smoothly, you must have several partners. That’s crucial given the risky and fickle nature of trading. In order to prevent catastrophic loss you must avoid placing your trust in only one partner. Should the agreed-upon goods not be delivered..”

  They stared at each other in silence for a while, but Fleur wasn’t as good at this as Ora. Not even a muscle on his face did twitch, so ultimately she turned away and barked at Beltra instead.

  “Another bowl!”

  “Those who want profit must learn the associated dangers. To dream of riches, you must also accept the nightmares. Us peddlers need to be more level-headed and avoid the risks.”

  Ora spoke flatly, with no emphasis whatsoever. He had probably ascertained why Fleur was behaving so strangely.

>   “He’s honest.”

  “Merchants wear many masks.”

  “He seems honest.”

  Ora nodded, urging her continue.

  “The profit’s steady. I supply the funds and he buys the clothes. It’s 30 to 40 percent profit. We split it halfway.”

  “About the clothes.. Where will he buy them, from whom?”

  “I hear that it’s a famous overseas town, and he’ll buy them through Jones company. Don’t worry.”

  She cut her fish in two, and ate the smaller piece. Conveniently for her, it had already been deboned.

  “And who are the buyers?”

  “His existing customers. We have it covered.”

  The grizzled old merchant ended his questioning. Fleur peeked at him cautiously, like a student seeking her tutor’s appraisal. His hand went up to his head, and he sighed as he rubbed its smooth surface. That was his thinking pose.

  Fleur thought back to her conversion with Milton. She was sure they had planned it out sufficiently in advance. The only deviation from Milton’s usual strategy was that Fleur would be supplying the funds this time, not the company. When the company paid, they would take most of the profit, but if Fleur paid then the two of them could put their heads together and earn substantially more.

  With their aims spelled out so clearly, there shouldn’t be any problems.

  “Is that all?”

  “Is there a problem?”

  She replied with an even stronger tone.

  “If you’re asking for my opinion..”

  “Just out with it, say what you wish.”

  She looked away immediately after her mouth closed, realizing how rudely she was acting.

  “Sorry about that. I really do want to know if you think there are any problems, so please tell me?”

  Ora sighed in response, wiping the ale-froth from his beard.

  “Can he be trusted?”

  Fleur didn’t snap at him, but it wasn’t to compensate for her behavior. She’d simply considered that point well before he mentioned it, because it concerned her just as much. As Ora said, only the greatest merchants were able to determine the truth from scraps of information.

  “Is he that suspicious?”

  “It’s not that, this just seems too good to be true.”

  “Why’s that?”

  Ora stared at his palm in response, before raising one eye to study her. That was his hesitating pose. He watched her as the wheels of his mind turned, then sighed. That was how his deliberations usually ended.

  “Forgive me, milady.”

  “For what?”

  “Trading is like that large bowl.”

  He pointed at the large bowl still half-full with Beltra’s delicious soup.

  “In it lies the profit that comes from Beltra’s skillful hands. If a merchant has equally skillful hands he might earn more from it, but if there’s too much inside, some of it will spill. There are limits to how profitable a trade can be.”

  Beltra took a seat next to Ora and began eating, clearly disinterested in anything outside of housework.

  “In essence there has to be risk equal to the profit being made.”

  “I realize that. Milton is putting the risk on me, to avoid being exploited by the company.”

  Ora nodded, but didn’t stop.

  “Meaning they will earn all that much less from Pabst this time. You didn’t overlook that, did you? Companies are surprisingly cunning and shady.”

  “Huh?”

  She was taken aback for a moment, but soon smiled.

  “If that’s it, don’t worry. It’s quite the opposite.”

  “How so?”

  “You see, it’s because they’re also doing this to increase their profits. He sells clothing through Jones, who want his skills working for them. So he suggested to them that this time he’d find someone to fund the trade and lessen their risk.”

  Ora’s eyelids calmly and slowly lowered. When they reopened, he looked away.

  “Then you’ll be dealing through Jones, yes?”

  “Yes. He’ll get the clothes through them, and so they’ll be selling more clothes to him, and improving their relationship as a result. There’s no harm to them. Of course..”

  She paused for dramatic effect, proud that she could pull it off in front of Ora so smoothly.

  “It’s even better for Milton and I.”

  It was perfect. Milton would be free of his exploiters, and earn more in spite of splitting the profits. That’s what Jones was planning. Fleur would shoulder the risk, but earn equivalent profit for it. And the more she earned, the more she learned about the trade, while Milton would eventually be able to save up enough capital to open his own storefront.

  “Hmm..”

  But surprisingly, Ora didn’t seem convinced. He was frowning and staring at his spoon. Fleur closed her eyes and waited patiently for his reply. The time seemed to pass slower and slower, until she couldn’t take it anymore and took a sip of her soup. It was cold, but that just made the taste come out more clearly.

  “So delicious..”

  Beltra smiled in response, having been quietly eating it herself. It wasn’t until Fleur requested a little more that Ora finally spoke out.

  “Alright. If this is what you’ve decided.”

  Fleur was confused, even when he repeated himself. She just wasn’t used to hearing him say “we’ll do it your way.” She set her spoon down and looked at him a bit doubtfully.

  “If you have any doubts, please share them..”

  “No, they won’t be solved with words alone. I think I’m worrying too much. I’m old and set in my ways, perhaps too careful because I’ve been burned in the past. But you..”

  He drank some soup, then craned his neck toward Beltra to praise her directly. He was old, but handsome for his age, even taking care to keep his hair smooth with egg whites. His praise put a gentle smile on her face.

  “You’ll grow in your own way. I can’t be chopping your legs off at the knees just because I’m fearful.”

  Fleur had no idea if that was some attempt to praise her, but it was progress nonetheless that he was letting her make the decision herself. As an apprentice, it meant that she had won a little of her master’s trust.

  “A merchant can only truly be independent if they’ve been burned themselves.”

  Fleur smiled.

  “Meaning I have yet to experience failure.”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  And yet he was smiling. At length Beltra stood up, realizing that their mugs were empty.

  “I’ve no skill with words, nor any to solve such complicated problems. But I know my own duties.”

  She was taking things just as seriously. Nothing was finer than being part of such a family.

  * * *

  Fleur woke up early the next morning. Well, early by the standards of nobility, not common folk. In the past Beltra would only wake her up after she’d finished her first round of housework. Regardless, Ora was probably the first to wake.

  Leaving bed, she tidied her hair with the wooden comb Beltra had crafted for her. It wasn’t until she pulled the comb over her shoulder that she remembered her hair wasn’t long anymore. It was her first morning after cutting off that symbol of nobility. It cut down her grooming time considerably, it just blew by today.

  The long, luxurious hair of a noble was nothing but trouble for a regular person. It took a lot of daily effort to keep it tidy. But regular folks didn’t have that kind of time. And since it wouldn’t do to betray her gender while trading, Fleur cut it short without hesitation.

  Amazingly, she was far from the most surprised by the deed. Others seemed quite taken aback; Beltra resisted furiously when Ora sadly told her that she needed to cut it short, and by the time they’d finished arguing Fleur had cut it on her own. She could still remember Beltra’s cry after that, and it would be difficult for her to forget the look of shock on Ora’s face.

  But Fleur didn’t feel any regre
t when she looked in the mirror. In fact, she smiled at her reflection - her first smile after cutting her hair. She couldn’t keep up appearances as a noble if she was going to be a merchant. She had to survive by her own hands, as Fleur Boland.

  “Alright!”

  There was always a line of people in front of the well in the morning, so Fleur had prepared some water the previous night to wash herself. She then smoothly poured the water out into the garden, like it was second nature.

  “Milady?”

  Beltra’s voice rang after a light knock at the door. It made sense for her to check up on Fleur; it was difficult to rouse her even if she was shaken by her shoulders. Today, she opened her door with a smile.

  “Good morning.”

  “G-good morning..”

  “Where’s Ora?”

  “Uh, well he’s gone to the market as usual.”

  It was so early that Ora wasn’t even back yet to boss her around. She could finally act on her own volition.

  “Then, would you prepare breakfast for me? I’d like a slice of cheese in bread, and a little wine.”

  Breakfast was a luxury - the special right of a noble and rich family. It was a symbolic kind of pain for a fallen noble to lose their breakfast privileges. Beltra reacted with surprise, then stared at the floor lost in thought before looking up. Ultimately, she smiled and nodded.

  “Please wait for a while.”

  So she was rewarding Fleur for getting up so early? In response, Fleur gave her a hug. Beltra laughed, then sped off to make her breakfast.

  The birds were singing outside; a fresh morning had begun.

  * * *

  After Fleur ate her secretive breakfast (something Ora could not learn about), she put on her coat, covered her face with a scarf, and prepared to leave.

  “Oh, you’re leaving so early?”

  Beltra seemed surprised as she dried her hands on her apron.

  “Yes, I’m going to the port. Just tell that to Ora.”

  “Oh.. alright..”

  Beltra replied uncertainly, and when Fleur looked back at her silently, nervously continued.