Spice & Wolf Omnibus

by Isuna Hasekura

  “I wish to sell you pyrite. By current market value, it is roughly five hundred silver pieces’ worth.”

  Amati, mouth half-open and eyes unfocused, regained his composure. He laughed and then sighed. “Surely you jest.”

  “I am quite serious.”

  Amati’s smile disappeared, his keen eyes now almost angry. “You must be aware that I have done quite well reselling pyrite. What are you playing at, trying to sell it then to me? The more I have, the more money I can make. I cannot believe you would help me in this. Unless” – Amati paused, his gaze now definitely angry – “it’s true that as long as you collect the debt, you care not what becomes of Miss Holo.”

  “Far from it. Holo is very important to me.”

  “In that case, why–”

  “Of course, I do not mean to simply sell it to you outright.”

  Amati might have been the better man when it came to the frenetic business of auctions, but when negotiating one-on-one, Lawrence had confidence in his own abilities.

  Keeping his tone even, he continued on with his proposal.

  “I wish to sell it to you on margin.”

  “On… margin?” Amati repeated the unfamiliar phrase.

  “Quite.”

  “And what does that–”

  “It means I will sell you five hundred trenni of pyrite tomorrow evening at its current market value.”

  Holo sometimes bragged of being able to hear the sound of someone frowning in consternation – Lawrence now felt he heard that very sound, so complete was Amati’s look of non-comprehension.

  “In that case, simply come to me tomorrow evening–”

  “No, I’d like to receive the payment now.”

  Amati’s dubious expression grew still more dubious.

  Unless he was as good at acting as Holo, Amati obviously knew nothing of margin selling.

  A merchant that lacked knowledge might as well be entering a battlefield while blindfolded.

  Lawrence pulled his bowstring tight, preparing to fire his arrow.

  “In other words, I’ll accept five hundred silver pieces from you now, and tomorrow I’ll give you five hundred silver pieces’ worth of pyrite at today’s market value.”

  Amati thought hard. On the surface, it was not a difficult arrangement to understand.

  After a time, he seemed to work out the implications.

  “So what this means is that come tomorrow evening, even if the market value of pyrite has risen, I’ll still receive what I would have gotten at today’s price.”

  “Correct. For example, if I sold you a single piece of pyrite worth twelve hundred irehd on margin tonight, even if tomorrow’s price is two thousand irehd, I still have to give you the pyrite.”

  “… Contrariwise, if the value has dropped to two hundred irehd by tomorrow, I still receive only the one piece, despite having paid twelve hundred the night before.”

  “Also correct.”

  The boy was clever.

  However, Lawrence still worried whether Amati would understand the true meaning of margin transactions.

  In a sense, they were no different from when a merchant sold a commodity on the spot.

  If the price of a good was to rise after it had been sold, a merchant would regret not waiting to sell it. Likewise, if it fell, he would be relieved at having gotten a better deal.

  But the time interval between the cash transaction and the commodity transaction was an important one.

  Lawrence wanted Amati to understand this.

  If Amati failed to see the significance of it, he would in all likelihood turn down the proposal.

  Amati spoke.

  “How is this different from an ordinary transaction?”

  He did not understand.

  Lawrence stifled the urge to click his tongue in irritation and prepared to deliver a lecture on margin purchasing.

  Just then, Amati cut him off before he could begin.

  “No, wait. It is different.” Amati smiled in understanding, his boyish face now every inch a merchant’s, calculating gain and loss. “You, Mr. Lawrence, are trying to salvage some profit despite having arrived late to the game. Am I right?”

  It seemed a lecture would be unnecessary.

  A merchant would not propose a meaningless deal. It only appeared meaningless when viewed in ignorance.

  Amati continued, “If buying on margin allows you to gain a commodity without having the cash on hand, then selling on margin allows you to gain cash without having the commodity on hand. Buying on margin yields profit when the good rises in price, but selling on margin allows you to profit when the goods market value drops.”

  When selling on margin, one did not even need to have the goods on hand until they were due to be delivered, since the deal was made by promising to deliver goods at a later point in time.

  “This is quite a business, indeed. It seems my focus on fish has left me ignorant of much of the world. You chose me for this deal because… No, it goes without saying. If I buy five hundred silver pieces’ worth of pyrite from you, I stand to gain if the market value of pyrite rises, but if it falls, my losses increase. When you profit – that is when I lose.”

  Amati thrust out his chest, his face fairly brimming with confidence.

  Lawrence was acutely aware of his own even expression.

  His hand trembled upon the bowstring.

  Amati continued, “So in other words, this is–”

  Lawrence cut him off and let fly the arrow.

  “Mr. Amati, I am challenging you to a battle.”

  The fishmonger’s lips curled into a smile.

  It was every bit a merchants smile.

  “Surely this cannot be called a ‘battle.’ A battle presupposes that both sides are equal, and this is not equal at all. I’m sure that you’re not suggesting that this transaction would be meaningful only between you and me?”

  “By which you mean…?”

  “Surely you don’t plan to conduct the deal without a certificate, and I assume this certificate could be sold to someone else, correct?”

  Outside of remote areas, it was quite common for debt obligations to be bought and sold.

  Certificates for margin selling were no exception.

  “I would hardly expect you to accept my proposal otherwise,” replied Lawrence. “It would be far too much risk; you would never accept it.”

  “Quite so. Even supposing the value of pyrite drops by tomorrow evening as you’re predicting it will, as long as it reaches the value I need sometime during the day, I’ll want to sell the certificate. If I weren’t allowed to do that, I doubt I would accept the deal. But if I keep that ability, the deal remains unfair.”

  Lawrence listened silently as Amati continued.

  “It’s unfair to you, Mr. Lawrence, since all I need is a slight increase in the price of pyrite to reach my goal. And yet I cannot accept a deal that leans in your favor.”

  So either way, Amati was unwilling.

  But no merchant worth his salt would give up after a single refusal.

  Lawrence calmed himself and replied.

  “That may be true if you look at this transaction by itself, but if you’ll look at the bigger picture, you’ll see this amount of unfairness is actually quite fair.”

  “… By which you mean…?”

  “By which I mean it is quite possible that Holo will simply tear up that marriage certificate. I assume you have a copy as well?”

  Amati paled.

  “Even if you pay me the thousand silver to lift Holo’s debt, there’s no way for you to avoid the risk of her simply shaking her head no. Compared to that risk, the marginal unfairness I face is nothing.”

  “Hah. Don’t you think that worry is unfounded? I understand you had quite a row with her,” Amati shot back with a snort and a chuckle.

  Lawrence felt his body grow hot as though he was impaled from behind on a red-hot iron bar, but he summoned every ounce of his merchant’s self-control and revea
led nothing. “In our travels together, Holo has cried in my arms three times.”

  It was now Amati whose face betrayed his emotion.

  He’d had a smirk, but his face now froze, and he took a long, slow breath.

  “She was quite charming all three times, Holo was,” continued Lawrence. “So it’s a shame she’s usually so stubborn. She often says and does things that are contrary to her true feelings. In other words–”

  Amati cut Lawrence off forcefully, like a knight challenged to a duel. “I accept! I accept your proposal, Mr. Lawrence.”

  “Are you quite sure?”

  “I say again: I accept. I was… if you’ll pardon me, I was worried that it would be too cruel to take absolutely everything from you, Mr. Lawrence. But if this is the way you want it, I accept. I will take from you your fortune and everything you have!”

  Amati’s face was red with anger.

  Lawrence had to smile.

  As he extended his right hand to Amati, his was the smile of the hunter that reaches into a trap to retrieve his prey. “So you’ll accept these terms?”

  “I shall!”

  The two hands that then clasped tightly together each planned to take everything from the other.

  “In that case, let us sign the contract and be done with it.”

  Lawrence remained coolheaded and came to a conclusion.

  The two of them, Lawrence and Amati, were on equal footing when it came to the deal at this time. Amati might even be shouldering a slightly greater risk.

  But it was far from clear whether Amati realized this. No, it was precisely because he had not realized it that he was willing to agree.

  But even if he were to realize now, it would be too late.

  They borrowed pen and paper from the tavern keeper and signed the contract on the spot.

  Amati couldn’t produce five hundred pieces of silver right there, so Lawrence let him substitute his three horses for the remaining two hundred. The coin would be handed over in the morning at the toll of the market bell. The horses would follow in the evening.

  If Holo was to be believed, Amati had two hundred silver coins, pyrite worth three hundred pieces of silver, and another two hundred pieces of silver of salable assets.

  Evidently, though, he had a hundred more silver pieces than that, and the two hundred silver pieces of salable assets were clearly the three horses.

  All this meant that Amati had the equivalent of eight hundred silver pieces’ worth of pyrite. If the value of pyrite was to rise by even 25 percent, he’d have more than the thousand silver he needed. If Amati had more assets than what Holo reported, the price wouldn’t even need to go up that much.

  “We’ll settle this tomorrow evening, then,” said Amati, visibly excited as the final seal was stamped on the paper. Lawrence nodded calmly.

  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 merchant’s 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 earnest, 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 kingdoms 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 mo
ment 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 had 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?”