“It looks like you were completely taken in by the Latparron Company. I won’t ask the details. From what I’ve heard, that won’t change the situation. No matter what anyone thinks, you got greedy and made a mistake. Is that right?”
“It is, exactly.”
Lawrence didn’t try to make excuses. Saying he had become greedy and failed summed up his predicament precisely.
“If you understand that, this will be a simple conversation. You must pay back on your own the debt that the guild will, in all likelihood, shoulder. When you meet with fraud or extortion, when you become sick or injured and suffer losses, we in the trade guild put our credit on the line to save you. But not this time. The only ones to come to your aid now will be the gods–”
Jakob pointed a finger at Holo, who glanced at Lawrence.
“–or that beauty.”
“I understand.”
Unlike craft guilds, a regional trade guild was built around assurances of mutual assistance. It ran on contributions from its members, and as Jakob said, it gave aid to merchants who had suffered misfortune and would otherwise be unable to get by. Members would also assemble in foreign lands to protest unfair treatment.
The guild had not been created to guarantee the debts of merchants whose greed led them to ruin.
In such cases, even if the guild temporarily assumed the liability, it would pursue repayment relentlessly. The other guild members wouldn’t stand for the loss, and it served as a lesson in the restraint of greed.
Jakob’s eyes were like bows drawn tight.
“Unfortunately, I’m not in a position where I can show you any compassion – and the reason why I must be so strict is just outside in the lobby. It is guild law. If it became known that this trade house goes easy on its members, it would be a target for riffraff from all around.”
“Of course. I myself would be angry if I heard some other member had been saved from his own failure.”
Lawrence put on a brave face, for if he didn’t, he would have collapsed.
“Also, you surely know this, but guild members are forbidden from lending money to each other. Neither can the guild lend you money. It would set a bad example.”
“I understand.”
Lawrence’s second home was barring its doors to him.
“Based on what the Remelio Company messenger told me, your obligation comes due in two days. Their own investments in armor have failed, so they’re feeling the heat as well. They won’t hesitate in demanding repayment. In other words, your failure will become public the day after tomorrow, and I’ll have to detain you. What have you concluded from this?”
“If I do not collect forty-seven lumione in two days and pay the Remelio Company back, there is no future for me,” said Lawrence.
Jakob shook his head slowly, then looked down at the table. “That’s not quite true.”
There was a slight rustling sound next to Lawrence; probably Holo’s tail.
“You future will come,” continued Jakob. “But it will be black, bitter, and heavy.”
The implicit message was that suicide in the face of this bankruptcy would not be acceptable.
“Forty-seven lumione could be paid off in ten years of rowing on a trade ship – or working in a mine. Of course, you’d have to avoid injury and sickness.”
Anyone who had ever seen correspondence between a ship’s captain and its owner knew that was pure fantasy. Nine-tenths of such correspondence was devoted to the captain requesting fresh rowers and the owner trying to make them last a little longer.
About 80 percent of rowers on long-distance ships were worthless after two years, another 10 percent were finished after two more years, and the remaining 10 percent – unbelievably strong-bodied men – wound up on anti pirate vessels and never returned. And even that was preferable to mine labor. Most miners died of lung disease within a year, and the lucky few who avoided such a fate died in collapsed tunnels.
In contrast, some who encountered misfortune might have their trade house cover their debts and then gradually repay their creditors at low interest – far better treatment.
Those who failed as a consequence of greed had to understand the seriousness of their crime.
“But it is not as though I wish death on you. Don’t forget that. A sin must be punished – and it is my duty to enforce that simple principle.”
“I understand.”
Lawrence looked into Jakob’s eyes. For the first time, a flicker of empathy appeared there.
“There’s nothing I can do besides wish you luck over the next two days, but if there is anything I can do, I will. Standard business assistance is no problem. Also, I trust you. I ought to tie you up for the next two days, but you can go free.”
The word trust weighed heavily on Lawrence’s shoulders.
Holo had promised to rescue him if it came to that.
But taking her up on that offer meant betraying the trust Jakob was showing him.
Lawrence wondered if he could do that.
He unconsciously muttered the problem to himself before speaking up.
“I thank you for your consideration. I’ll try to find the money in the next two days, somehow.”
“There are always possibilities in business – and some you can only see when you are in true danger.”
Lawrence’s heart thudded at the statement. It could be interpreted as suggesting illegal activity.
As the master of the Ruvinheigen branch of the Rowen Trade Guild, Jakob had to confront Lawrence with harsh reality, but he was also worried about the young merchant. A person who was capable only of severity would be unfit to be the master of the merchants’ second home.
“Have you anything you want to ask or say?”
Lawrence shook his head, but then spoke as something suddenly occurred to him.
“I want you to think of what you’ll say when I repay the money.”
Jakob blinked, then laughed loudly. The inappropriate timing of the joke made it all the funnier.
“I’ll think of something, don’t you worry! And you, my dear, have you anything to say?”
Lawrence was sure she would say something, but Holo – surprisingly – shook her head wordlessly.
“Right, that should wrap things up. We shouldn’t talk too long. They’re a suspicious lot out there, you know. If rumors get around, it’ll be harder for you to act.”
Jakob stood from the couch, which creaked again. Lawrence and Holo did likewise.
Jakob and Lawrence knew it was a bad idea for merchants to wear dark expressions, so they made every effort to appear normal, as if the business they had just discussed was nothing more than a bit of small talk.
When the reached the lobby, Jakob returned to his usual spot and waved Lawrence off lightly.
Yet the people drinking wine in the lobby said nothing to him, as if they had sensed something was amiss.
Lawrence felt the weight of eyes on his back; he closed the door behind him and Holo as if to seal the guild members away.
They might even have been thinking about restraining him. He couldn’t help but feel grateful at Jakob’s generosity in letting him go free.
“Well, we’ve got two days of freedom. We’ve no choice but to see what we can do with it,” murmured Lawrence to himself, but the notion of raising forty-seven lumione without any capital was delusional at best.
If there were any such method, the beggars of the world would all be rich men.
Yet he had to think of something.
If he didn’t, his future wasn’t worth contemplating.
His dream of having a shop would collapse; his recovery as a merchant would be hopeless; and his life would end either in the gloom of a mine shaft or the bowels of a ship, where the cries of anguish were said to drown out the crashing of the waves.
He tried to buck himself up, to put on a brave face, but the more he tried to reassure himself, the more the impossibility of his situation closed in around him.
Jakob tr
usted Lawrence enough to give him his freedom for two days.
But now Lawrence began to wonder if it was just Jakob giving a doomed man his last days of freedom. As he thought about it realistically, raising forty-seven lumione in two days seemed impossible.
He noticed his hand was trembling.
Shamed, Lawrence made a fist to stop the shaking. Then a small hand rested atop his.
It was Holo – he suddenly remembered she was there.
He wasn’t alone.
Coming to that realization, Lawrence found the composure to take a deep breath.
At this rate, he would break his promise to accompany Holo to the northlands.
His frozen mind began to turn. Holo noticed this and spoke.
“So. What will you do?”
“First, before we do any more thinking, we need to test something.”
“And that is?” Holo asked, looking up to Lawrence.
“Debt for debt.”
None can feel at ease when lending large amounts of money unless they are very wealthy or generous indeed.
On the other hand, one does not nag for repayment of a trivial loan unless they are especially petty or especially strapped for cash.
Debt was like a looming mud slide. Even if it were impossible to stop, if one could manage to divert it into other rivers, it could be managed.
One way to manage a debt of forty-seven lumione would be to borrow small amounts from many different people to pay it off and then gradually pay each lender off in turn.
However.
“Well, well, Lawrence! It’s been a while. What’s your angle today?”
Every merchant Lawrence knew greeted him roughly the same upon seeing his face again, but when the talk came of lending their expressions grew grim.
“Five lumione? Sorry, friend, times are tough for me at the moment. It’s the end of the year, prices of wheat and meat are up, and I’ve got to lay in stock for spring. Sorry, I just…”
Everyone gave the same answer, as if their responses had been prearranged. They were merchants just like him, sensitive to exactly what he was trying. If traveling merchants could just head to a company and borrow money instead of borrowing from their guild, that would put the trade companies in the same position that forced guilds to have rules against lending.
And no one wanted to load their goods aboard a sinking ship.
When Lawrence pressed them for even a single lumione, they regarded him as if he was especially foul smelling.
With no island to cling to, he was often just kicked out or sent off.
One who came not for commerce or negotiation but simply to borrow was little more than a thief.
That was common sense in the world of merchants.
“We’ll try another one.”
After Lawrence met back up with Holo, who waited outside the row of companies and mansions, he didn’t bother with a fifth rendition of that same line.
He had only put on a brave face for the first three stops, and Holo stopped asking him how it had gone after four.
As a “by the way” to his request for a short-term loan, Lawrence had asked after any opportunities for profit, but that, too, had withered into silence. After all, merchants used capital to turn a profit. It was obvious that without money on hand, there was nothing to be done.
Lawrence unconsciously quickened his pace as he walked, opening a bit of distance between himself and Holo.
When he noticed, he told himself to calm down, but the words merely echoed in his empty mind, and he began to find Holo’s words of encouragement irritating.
He was in a bad way.
Despite the chilly air that descended as night drew near, Lawrence’s forehead and throat were slick with sweat.
Though he had thought himself prepared, the reality of his circumstances affected him more than he’d anticipated. The seriousness of the situation seemed to spill out of him like water from an overtaxed ceramic cup.
Why had he made that deal in Poroson? The feelings of regret warred with the uselessness of such recriminations within him.
Again, Holo’s voice reminded Lawrence that he had put too much distance between them. He was assailed by an exhaustion that made him wonder if he would ever be able to walk again were he to stop.
But he had no time for exhaustion.
“Excuse me,” Lawrence asked at yet another door.
The bell signaling the close of the market rang; all the companies would soon be closing their doors for the day.
The ninth location Lawrence visited was already tidying up its loading dock, and a wooden sign was posted on the entrance, indicating that the day’s trading was over.
A trading company was home to the master and men working there, so it wasn’t as if no one was about. Lawrence used the knocker and took a deep breath.
He hadn’t many acquaintances left. The merchant had to get someone to lend him money.
“Who is there?” asked the woman who opened the door. She was well built, and Lawrence remembered her face.
Just as Lawrence steeled himself to ask after the master, the woman looked back over her shoulder. Flustered, she went back into the house.
In her place appeared the master of the company.
“It has been a while, Mr. Lawrence.”
“It has. I’m very sorry to trouble you after the market’s closed, but I have a favor to ask…”
The first couple of stops Lawrence made, he had had the luxury of beginning with small talk, feigning normal business.
But he no longer possessed such a luxury. As he plunged into his request, the master regarded him scornfully.
“I happened to hear that you’ve been making the rounds with your request.”
“Er, yes… though it embarrasses me to say so…”
The ties between merchant companies in a city were strong. The master had clearly heard from one of the companies Lawrence visited earlier.
“And it’s a sizable amount. Is this because of the drop in armor prices, I wonder?”
“Yes. I was naive and made a mistake.”
Even if he had to grovel and throw himself on the mercy of others, Lawrence had to borrow the money. Starting penniless and raising forty-seven lumione in two days was simply impossible.
And if he was refused here, he would be turned away at the gates everywhere else.
If even one of the other companies had lent to him, Lawrence felt that others would have too. But the fact that none had offered him aid made him wonder if they all thought his recovery so impossible that they wouldn’t bother lending.
Merchant companies were closely connected. Once a piece of information escaped, the news would be all over town in an instant.
The master’s tone was unchanged and cold.
“A naive mistake? I suppose it was at that.”
This was something that it didn’t take the skill of a merchant used to discerning others’ feelings to grasp.
This was not the tone of a man prepared to lend money.
The master furrowed his brow and let slip an exasperated sigh. It seemed as if he might have known that Lawrence had gotten greedy and amassed an oppressive debt by buying armor on margin.
Trustworthiness was a merchant’s life. If you couldn’t be trusted, none would extend their hand to aid you.
And your debt was your own responsibility – if you couldn’t pay it back, it was your own fault.
Lawrence hung his head, feeling the strength drain from him like so much water.
The master continued speaking.
“Yet only the gods can predict a sudden fall in price. It’s unfair to rebuke you for being unable to do so.”
Lawrence looked up in spite of himself. He saw a glimmer of hope. If he could get a loan here, it would be easier to get loans from others, and his skill as a traveling merchant would be acknowledged to a degree. If he promised to pay it back with interest, he might yet save himself.
Hope, he thought, dangled now before his eyes.
But when he looked at the master, the face that greeted him held only scorn in its eyes.
“If you’re in trouble, Mr. Lawrence, I thought that I might be able to be of some help to you. You’ve helped me turn a profit many a time. But while I’m a merchant, I also live by the teachings of God, and I need to know your sincerity.”
Lawrence did not understand what he was hearing, but nonetheless, he frantically began to formulate an excuse when he was cut off by the particularly mercantile form of the master’s speech.
“You’ve got a woman in tow even as you make the rounds, depending on the compassion of others to lend you money? Preposterous. How far the Rowen Trade Guild has fallen!”
The words froze Lawrence cold as the master slammed the door in his face.
He could neither move forward nor backward.
It was as though he’d forgotten to breathe.
The closed door was so quiet it seemed painted on stone. It was surely as cold and heavy as stone. The door would not open again; Lawrence’s connections with the merchants of the city had been cut.
They would lend him no money.
He backed away unsteadily from the door, not of his own volition, but rather because his body seemed to move on its own. When he finally noticed his surroundings, he was standing in the middle of the street.
“Don’t just stand in the middle of the road!” the driver of a horse-drawn cart shouted at him, and like a stray dog, Lawrence moved to the edge of the lane.
What should I do? What should I do? What should I do?
The words passed endlessly before his eyes.
“Hey there. Are you all right?”
At the sound of the voice, Lawrence started.
“Your face is quite pale. Let’s hie to the inn–”
Holo extended her hand by way of comfort, but Lawrence slapped it away.
“If only you hadn’t–” he shouted. But by the time he realized his error, he was too late.
Holo looked at him as though she had been stabbed though the heart. Having nowhere to go, her hand hovered there in midair for a moment before she slowly lowered it.
She looked down, her face blank with neither anger or sadness on it.
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