“Of course, the wagon would be more expensive to make and maintain,” said the blacksmith, “but it would more than pay for itself by being easier on the wagon and letting the driver go faster.”
Hamston stopped bouncing the anvil and put both hands on hips. “The obvious question is whether the springs will hold up to the constant compression and relaxation.”
Mark lifted the anvil and set it on the ground, letting the board slide off the springs.
“That’s where I need your help. I’ve learned a lot about smithing the last few months, but it’ll take your experience and your shop to produce steel strong enough to make leaf springs practical.”
“Oh, it’s possible,” said Hamston. “I can tell by just looking at the springs you made that they’ll quickly fail. Oh, they’re not bad for someone with as little experience as yourself—I could see you eventually having your own smithy.”
Hamston crossed his arms. “You mentioned a business proposition. I assume you want me to agree to make these leaf springs in my shop. We could make enough of them for a few wagons to test the market. They’re not going to be cheap to make, so I’m not sure how many wagon owners would be willing to pay the price. It might be people who travel a lot or have enough coin to pay for the better ride. However, if by chance the market justifies it, I’d have to add another worker. That could be you if you were interested in working more and after I trained you specifically to make the right type of steel.”
The blacksmith’s positive attitude toward making springs was encouraging, though his opinion on the number that might be sold wasn’t.
“Isn’t there a way to increase production? Maybe with more workers?”
Hamston shook his head. “Not here in Tregallon. Oh, I could train more men, but that would take time and coin—and to what purpose if there’s not a big enough market?”
Mark had intended to keep his plans for selling leaf springs in the largest cities secret from the blacksmith at first, but he realized that wouldn’t work.
“What if I said that my intention was not to sell the springs only here but everywhere in Frangel, starting with Kaledon and Brawsea?”
“Ah, well, that’s different. I think we could make enough springs for Tregallon but not for a much larger market. No, you’d need to work with the larger blacksmith shops in those cities. With larger bellows, forges, and trip hammers, production of the right grade of steel would go much faster. It might also be possible for those blacksmiths to expand their shops even more if the market was there.”
He’s right, thought Mark. I’ve been so wrapped up in getting the test springs finished that I didn’t consider what it would take to produce thousands of springs.
Now that Hamston had laid it out, Mark saw only one way forward.
“If I wanted to go to Kaledon and find a smithy that could do that scale of work, how would I go about it, and could you help?”
Hamston used one hand from his crossed arms to drum fingers on the opposite shoulder while he was silent for a minute.
“I know a smithy in Kaledon that could at least get you started on producing hundreds of springs. That would let you determine the market in a large city. His name is Arko Stillum. I hate his guts.”
Hamston paused to spit to one side.
“He was married to one of my cousins and was beating her. When I heard about it from other relatives, I nearly headed to Kaledon to do something about it, but my cousin left him and came to Tregallon. I never understood why she married the bastard in the first place. I only met him three times, and we almost got into a fight every time.
“Anyway, as nasty as he is, he’s a master blacksmith and has one of the largest shops in Kaledon. He’s greedy, too. I can make some proper leaf springs for you and equip a wagon you can take to show him how the springs work. I’ll also give you a letter from me. As I should have more accurately said, we hate each other, but he’ll put that aside for enough coin.”
Shit! Mark thought. The leaf spring project just got more complicated than I thought it would be.
“I’ll admit I’m disappointed, Hamston. I’d hoped you and I could become partners in this.”
“About all I can contribute is making springs for the Tregallon area and helping you make contacts in Kaledon. What if we make the following deal? I’ll make springs and equip any wagons you need to convince bigger smithies in the cities to work with you. I’ll also try to get you introduced to Stillum. I suppose I can write to a blacksmith I casually know in Brawsea. If he’s not interested, he may have suggestions for other blacksmiths there who might be able to help you. In return, I get the rights to make springs for anyone in Tregallon who wants them. If I make them for people outside the town, then we’ll share the profit.”
Mark hated giving up any profits, but Hamston’s advice rang true, and he needed the blacksmith’s help. He was also happy to turn over making functional leaf springs to Hamston because Wiflow announced they had exceeded by two hundred their goal of ten thousand pins.
An unusually large number of Tregallon citizens headed for the town square on market day after word spread that something new was going on sale. The day was perfect for the safety pins’ roll-out—scattered clouds, mild temperature, and a gentle breeze. Wiflow, his son Tomtun, and Mark each carried a box of pins to Wiflow’s usual spot. Assistants had already brought the table and chairs.
“What—!” exclaimed Wiflow, when he saw two dozen women and several men milling around the empty booth.”
“About time you got here, Wiflow,” said a gray-haired woman in a grating tone. “And what’s this amazing thing you’re going to try and sell us?”
“Patience, Nurla, patience,” said the jeweler. “Give us a moment to set up, and I’ll let you be the first to try a safety pin.”
“A what?” asked a portly, well-dressed woman.
They stacked the three boxes behind the chair. Wiflow sat, turned to the first box, and pulled out a handful of pins. He dropped them on the table and spread them out. An assistant handed him small pieces of cloth.
“If you’ll all gather round, I’ll demonstrate.” He held up a single pin.
“What in damnation of all the saints are you trying to do, Wiflow?” exclaimed the first woman. “A new piece of tiny jewelry, and one so ugly, who’d want to wear it?”
“Not jewelry, Nurla. Watch.” Wiflow held the pin above his head so most people could see it. He pushed on the pointed end to lift it out of the groove and to one side to release it. The assistant, standing behind Wiflow, held the edges of two pieces of cloth together above Wiflow, and the jeweler pushed the point through both fabrics and refastened the pin. The assistant released one cloth, letting the other fall to show they were now attached.
Wiflow took the result and held it with both hands. “My friends, you now see that the two pieces of cloth are held together. The sharp point of the safety pin is shielded. Imagine you have pieces of clothing you need to stay in position, a tear needing temporary repair, or any other time when you need to hold cloth together without ties, sewing, or buttons. Also, those of you with babies can imagine using the pins to secure diapers safely and quickly.”
Utterances from Wiflow’s audience ranged from disgust, puzzlement, and cautious appreciation to a few approvals.
“Now, I’m going to give each of you two safety pins so you can try them for yourselves. These are free. I only ask that if you find them useful, you tell others about them.”
The giveaways were Mark’s suggestion, one vigorously resisted by Wiflow until Tomtun supported the idea.
A third of the group drifted away without collecting the free samples. Another third took their two pins and left the area—the rest stayed and manipulated the pins, sometimes with further demonstrations by Wiflow, the assistant, and Mark. By the end of the first hour, they had sold a hundred pins at one small copper coin each—the cost of one loaf of bread per coin. By two hours, a few members of the first audience came back, along with women who had heard of the pins f
rom new owners, and sales had passed three hundred. At three hours, the booth was surrounded by boisterous customers, mainly women, impatient to purchase the new marvel.
The occupants of the two adjacent booths quit trying to shoo Wiflow’s customers away from their businesses and either gave up for the day or moved elsewhere on the square. Mark and Tomtun occupied the two now-vacant spaces, and sales rocketed. The last pin was sold just as the bell rang to close the market. Disgruntled potential customers were assured more pins would be available as soon as possible. Wiflow took another of Mark’s suggestions and offered preorders—half the price paid now to reserve pins as soon as they were made. A surprised Wiflow estimated he had orders for another thousand pins.
The elderly jeweler shook his head as he checked the three empty boxes and ran his hands across the table’s surface.
“I thought this would work, even without your ‘sales tricks,’ as you called them, but this . . . ”
The jeweler’s expression of wonder morphed into concern, as he glanced down at the cloth sack bulging with copper coins. He turned to Tomtun. “Run back to our shop and bring several thick leather sacks. Also, the two pistols we keep in the shop.” Wiflow stopped and looked Mark up and down. “And one of those four-foot-long brass stock bars from the store room.
“Now!” he ordered when Tomtun didn’t disappear immediately.
“We’ve got ten thousand small coppers. The bag I brought isn’t big or strong enough to hold all the coins. I expected we might sell a few thousand pins at the most. We might tempt someone or some group to try to steal the coins. Tregallon is safer than the large cities, but this many coins might be too much temptation. I think we’re safe as long as we’re in the square and there’s still a lot of people around, but my shop and home are far enough away that I don’t want to take chances.”
“Why did you tell Tomtun to bring the brass bar?”
“It’s for you. I only have two pistols, but I figure a big brute like you swinging the bar will be an added deterrent. Word will spread about the sudden demand for safety pins and that we must have piles of coins. First thing tomorrow morning, Tomtun and I will be busy with the shop, so I’ll ask you to look at strengthening all my doors and windows. You should do the same with the Hoveys’ house where you’re staying and advise Ulwyn what’s happening.
“If we were in Kaledon or Brawsea, there would be money-changers who would provide a secure place to keep the coin in exchange for fees. Tregallon hasn’t had enterprises holding onto that much coin at one time, so the need for money-changers hasn’t happened.”
Bankers? wondered Mark.
“This is something unusual for Tregallon,” said Wiflow, “so much coin in one place, even if only copper coins. We’ll have to find people and tradesmen willing to exchange for higher coins.”
Mark shrugged. “I don’t understand. People must have coin from wages and from selling things.”
“Yes, but not that much. Most people’s wealth is in their possession—houses, land, tools, clothing, animals, and other things. Hardly anyone keeps a large amount of coins at home or in shops.”
So, no savings as such, thought Mark. The town’s coin supply must be limited and stays in constant circulation.
If Wiflow was right about the danger of having too much coin in their possession, Mark needed to consider his own situation. He estimated his half-share in the first profits would come to about two thousand soldors, the Frangelese monetary unit, in the form of two thousand copper coins. He hadn’t considered the problem of the small price and big demand resulting in so many coins. The solution was to follow Wiflow’s lead and change most of his profits into higher-denomination coins that were easier to carry and conceal.
Ten minutes later, Tomtun returned, sweating and puffing, and the three men walked to Wiflow’s shop. There, they put the bags of coins in a metal box bolted to a thick pillar and locked it with a large padlock.
Mark was elated. He had more ambitious ideas for innovations than he knew would be possible in a lifetime, but ideas were not reality. He hoped a small project like the safety pins would provide the experience critical for projects of larger scope. A smile grew, as he imagined future historical accounts extolling a man named Mark Kaldwel and how the Anyar industrial revolution began with safety pins. His suppressed doubts vanished. He waited until Tomtun left, then put a hand on Wiflow’s shoulder and broached their next move.
“I know it’s only one day, Wiflow, but tell me you don’t think this would work in Kaledon and Brawsea.”
The jeweler licked his lips. “I’m almost a believer, Kaldwel, but those are different situations than Tregallon. Anytime you do business in those places, a wise man stays aware of bigger forces, some of which need to be treated with care. The guilds control most production through interlocking relationships and contracts. The large merchant houses work closely with the guilds to control imports, and government officials don’t like changes.”
“For safety pins?” asked Mark. “How can they control a market they don’t know exists?”
Wiflow nodded. “I agree I don’t see how, but it’s not something to believe isn’t possible. Our best chances of not rousing opposition is to do exactly what we did here—quickly create a new market and dominate it at first. There will be more competition that develops faster than it will here in Tregallon. Our best strategy is that once safety pins are known to have a steady future market, we might strike a deal with one of the guilds to have the pins fall under its purview.”
Cartels. That’s what Wiflow is talking about, thought Mark. These guilds control product markets and suppress competition and innovation. What a bunch of shitheads. But hey, if we’re going to deal with them, then Wiflow’s right that we need to connect with our own shitheads.
Mark knew the downside of cartels for the overall economy, but he recognized the advantage to cartel members. He didn’t make the rules here, so he wasn’t going to moralize.
“Does this mean you don’t think we can or should do it?” Mark asked.
“Oh, no! Despite my reservations, my instinct tells me this is a chance of a lifetime. I may not live that many more years, but I see a chance to secure my family’s future for generations.”
Wiflow laughed. “It also has me more excited than I’ve been in a long time. When I was much younger, I was full of ideas about what my life would be like. However, we’ll need to move fast. It won’t take long before someone in Tregallon travels and other places in Frangel learn about the pins. We can be thankful that the harvest season is coming, so travel is less frequent while so many people deal with crops. If I had to guess, I’d say the first pins will reach Kaledon or Brawsea in three or four months. Then, once they are known there, word will spread fast.”
Mark stroked his beard. “Then we’re wasting time. The two limiting factors are brass and people. I saw your supply of brass. It’s nowhere near enough. I assume you know suppliers.”
Wiflow shook his head. “I can find more here, but my regular supply comes from Kaledon. The fastest way to get more will be to go there in person and bring back a large supply. The shop I usually buy from will become suspicious if I buy too much, but there are other shops. It would be better if the purchases could be made by more than one person. I’m not up for wagon travel that far anymore, but I can send Tomtun. If you go with him, we can create a story about who you are and why you need brass.”
“What about Ulwyn Hovey? He told me he gets to Kaledon once a year. What if three of us go? That will give us more people to do what’s necessary.”
Wiflow nodded. “Ulwyn’s reliable. We’ve dealt with each other for thirty years or more. He’s honest as anyone and can be trusted to keep his mouth closed. We wouldn’t bring him in as a continuing partner, so I prefer to give him either a set amount for the one trip or provide him with pins for trading. If Ulwyn agrees to go, he can check on the best market sites for selling the pins—there are seven or eight in Kaledon. The one in the main plaza is
the largest, but I expect it’s the hardest to get booth space. I haven’t sold there for many years, so I don’t know the current situation.”
“I’ll speak to him tonight,” said Mark.
“The other issue is workers,” said Wiflow. “I’m not willing to give up my jewelry business, so I’ll need at least two more workers to do much of the pin work. That leaves my other three for my regular trade. It’ll take a month to train new people enough to be useful, even if the pins are so simple. However, that may work out because I’ll need most of that same month for you to get to Kaledon, purchase rods and sheets, and return. By then, more workers should be trained enough to be productive. However, even when production starts, we shouldn’t expect more than two hundred pins a day from each new worker at first.”
Mark did the math.
Shit, he thought. That means we’re looking at eighty to ninety days from now for a Kaledon blitz campaign.
“What about Brawsea?”
“No way we can do both cities at the same time. We would also want to add more workers because Brawsea is the largest city in Frangel. It would take time to produce another two to three hundred thousand pins. However, if we can associate with a guild in Kaledon, it should transfer to Brawsea. That means we wouldn’t be under as much time pressure.”
“Could we add even more workers?”
“We’ve already talked about this. There’s only so many available men who could do the work.”
“Then what about women, like I mentioned?”
Wiflow sighed. “It’s not something commonly done, although I understand your reasoning that there should be many women who would want the work. If we do hire women, the men I didn’t hire will be angry. I don’t want to start trouble.”
“Tough shit,” said Mark in English and then translated into Frangelese. “Anyone looks like they’re a problem, tell them to see me.”
Wiflow frowned. “I checked around when you first came to me. I know your reputation as someone not to cross, but no one is invulnerable, and we’d have the women and men we hire to worry about.”
Passages Page 10