Spice & Wolf III (25 page)

All he’d had to do was mention Holo crying in his arms.

Merchants truly were useless once matters strayed from business.

“I’ll take my leave, then. Enjoy your wine,” said Lawrence once the contract was signed and complete.

The arrow was well and truly buried in Amati’s chest. Amati himself must have felt it, but there was something Lawrence had failed to mention.

The arrow had been tipped with a slow-acting poison known only to those familiar with margin selling.

The merchants hunt lay between truth and deception.

There was no obligation to tell the whole truth.

Merchants were all of them treacherous.

As soon as he completed the margin-selling contract with Amati, Lawrence headed straight to the marketplace.

Though business hours were long since over, the marketplace was as lively as it had been during the day. The merchants drank wine and made merry by the light of the moon, and the festivities soon spread to include the night watchmen.

So it was that Mark was still at his stall and not at home as he might have been at such a late hour.

That he was drinking alone, with only the noise of the festivities to accompany the wine, proved he had once been a traveling merchant himself.

“What’s this? Does the princess not require an escort?” were the first words from Mark’s mouth.

Lawrence shrugged, smiling unhappily

Mark laughed. “Well, no matter—have a drink,” he said, pouring ale from an earthen bottle into an empty cup.

“I’m not disturbing you?”

“You will be if you stay sober!”

Lawrence sat in the sawed-log chair and set down the sack containing the gold and silver coins. He put the proffered ale to his lips. Its foamy fragrance filled his head as the bitter stuff washed down his throat.

The hops had been good in this batch.

Lawrence supposed it was unsurprising that a wheat merchant would know good ale.

“It’s fine ale.”

“It’s been a good harvest this year for all wheat. When there’s a bad harvest, the barley that normally goes to ale is put toward bread instead. I’ll have to thank the god of the harvest.”

“Hah, quite so,” said Lawrence, setting the ale cup down on the tabletop. “Listen, this may not be the best discussion to match good ale, but..

Mark gulped and burped. “Is there profit in it?”

“That’s hard to say. There might be gain in it, though that’s not my aim.”

Mark popped a piece of salted fish into his mouth, speaking as he crunched away on it. “You’re too honest, friend. You should've said there’s money in it. I’d have gladly helped you.”

“I’ll pay you for your trouble, and there may yet be profit in it “Do tell.”

Lawrence wiped a bit of ale foam from the corner of his mouth. “After the festival ends is when the wheat buying begins in ear-nest, yes?”

“Oh, aye.”

“I’d like you to spread a rumor for me.”

Mark’s expression turned shrewd, as though he was appraising wheat. “I won’t do anything risky.”

“It might be risky for you to spread it, but your apprentice can do so with no trouble at all.”

It was a trifling rumor.

But rumors can wield a terrible power.

There was a tale of a kingdom long ago that met its destruction because of a simple rumor that the king was ill, which was started by a young town boy. The rumor eventually circulated beyond the kingdom’s borders, leading to the dissolution of alliances and finally invasion.

It turns out that people do not have that much to talk about in their daily lives.

It seemed that their ears existed only to pick up on small rumors, so they could then shout them to the world.

Mark gestured with his chin, as if to say, “Go on.”

“At my signal, I want someone to begin saying that it seems about time for the price of wheat to rise.”

Mark froze, his eyes staring through Lawrence and off into the distance. He was considering the implications of what Lawrence had said.

“You’re trying to lower the price of that mineral.”

“Exactly so.”

Lawrence imagined that most of the people who were trying their hand at the pyrite business had come to town to sell something, and they would be buying something before they left.

And as they left, the product they would buy the most of was undoubtedly wheat.

If people heard that wheat was going to rise in price, they would surely sell off their pyrite in order to buy whatever it was they had originally come to town to buy.

And as a result, demand for pyrite would fall off.

As the price fell with less demand, it would reach a certain point and then plunge uncontrollably downward.

The wheat merchant drank deeply from his ale cup before speaking. “I wouldn’t have figured you to come up with such a simpleminded idea.”

“What if I told you that I was planning to sell off a considerable amount of pyrite at the same time?”

Mark blinked, and after a moment of thought, he asked, “How much?”

“One thousand
trenni
worth.”

“Wha—! One thousand? Are you insane? Do you have any idea how much you might lose in the process?”

Mark scowled and scratched his beard, muttering as he looked about. Judging by his reaction, he had no idea what Lawrence was thinking.

“So long as I’ve five hundred silver pieces’ worth of pyrite when this is all over, it matters nothing to me whether the price rises or falls.”

It was Amati who had greater risk in the deal Lawrence hail brought to him.

And this was the reason.

“Damn. Selling on margin, are you?”

Obviously no one complained when a commodity they had on hand went up in price, but there weren’t many situations where someone didn’t mind if their goods
dropped
in value.

If the goods sold on margin depreciated, all one had to do was repurchase the product at the new lower price to ensure a profit. If the product rose in value, as long as it were paired up with a conventional transaction, Lawrence could create a situation where he would come out the same whether or not the price rose or fell.

His most decisive advantage was that the price of pyrite would definitely fall once it was sold in large quantities, but Amati absolutely needed the price to rise in order to turn a profit.

Lawrence’s plan was, in essence, to use the five hundred silver pieces he’d received from Amati plus his own assets to buy up as much pyrite as possible; then he would sell it off all at once in order to drive the price sharply down.

It was only possible to do this upon abandoning any notion of profit.

Mark, once a traveling merchant himself, soon worked all this out—including who the victim was.

“I must say I feel bad for that poor, ignorant fishmonger.”

Lawrence shrugged in reply.

Although the plan looked flawless, there was a reason why Lawrence was not completely comfortable with it.

There was no such thing as a perfect plan.

“You’d think he would understand how dangerous it is to take part in a deal he’s not used to,” said Mark.

“No—he knows the risks, and he accepted. I explained that much.”

Mark gave a throaty chuckle and polished off his beer. “So, was that all you needed?”

“No, there’s one more thing.”

“I’m all ears.”

“I want you to help me buy up pyrite.”

Mark stared blankly at Lawrence. “You didn’t secure a source before making the margin contract?”

“There wasn’t time. Will you help me?”

This was the flaw in his plan.

No matter how ideal the plan, without all the components in place it would come to nothing.

And what Lawrence needed to do was far from easy.

He could wait until dawn to purchase pyrite in the marketplace like any other merchant. But if he bought several hundred
trenni
worth of pyrite all at once, a sudden spike in price was inevitable.

He had to work behind the scenes and buy up pyrite in such a way that his purchasing would not disturb the market value.

To do this, the best way would be to make many small purchases via various town merchants.

“Payments will be in cash. I’ll even pay over market value. If the quantity is enough, I can even pay in
lumione
.”

If
trenni
silver was a sword, then
lumione
gold was a phalanx ol spears. When buying high-value commodities, a more powerful weapon did not exist.

Lawrence had coin but lacked connections, and outside ol Mark, he had no one he could turn to for aid.

If Mark refused, Lawrence would have no choice but to gather pyrite on his own.

He couldn’t even consider how difficult it would be to buy up the mineral in an aboveboard fashion in this town, where he only did business a few days of the year.

Mark was unmoving, staring off in some unclear direction.

“I’ll make it worth your trouble,” Lawrence added. It was clear he was offering more than a simple service fee.

Mark glanced over upon hearing those words.

He was, after all, a merchant. He wouldn’t work for free.

Mark’s answer was short. “I can’t.”

“I see, so...Wait, what?”

“I can’t,” he said again, looking Lawrence in the eye.

“Wha-”

“I cannot help you with this,” he said flatly.

Lawrence leaned forward. “I’ll pay you a consideration and not a paltry service fee, either. You’ve nothing to lose. It’s a good trade, is it not?”

“I’ve nothing to lose?” He frowned, his square-cut beard making his face look even stonier.

“But you don’t, do you? I’m asking you to help me find and purchase pyrite, not shoulder a risky investment. What have you to lose?”

“Lawrence.” The sound of his name cut Lawrence off.

Yet Lawrence did not understand what Mark was thinking. It made no sense for a merchant to refuse a deal that promised a sizable reward with no risk.

Why then the refusal?

He wondered if Mark was trying to take advantage of him, and something like anger roiled in his gut.

Mark continued, “You’d be able to pay me, say, ten
lumione
at the outside, am I right?”

“Well, given that you’re simply making some purchases for me, that’s more than generous, I should think. It is not as though I’m asking you to cross a mountain range alone and bring back an entire caravan’s worth of ore.”