Passages

by Olan Thorensen

  “We’ve hired almost everyone who I believe is both competent and available for spinning and weaving. Everyone has worked hard while you were gone, and I believe most workers are nearing their best output. To approach the ability of the workers we have now, we’d have to hire not just more people but less productive weavers or people without much experience who would only become better with training over many months.”

  “And that’s ignoring the fiber problem,” said Holt. “We’d have to start using lesser-quality flurox plants, which means more workers to process the fibers.”

  “You’re not telling me it can’t be done,” said Mark, impatience laden on his words, “only that it won’t be easy. Time is short. The Harrasedic trader will only be available to come in about three months. Since I have to send him word that the promised number of bolts is available, I’ll need to relay a message in two months to be safe.”

  Dayna Firman rolled her eyes, and Holt shook his head before opening his mouth to protest—stopped by Mark’s palm-out, fingers-splayed gesture.

  “I told him two hundred bolts. You say there are thirty new bolts already finished. Of the sample twenty we took to Brawsea, we left five with Nigulas and returned with fifteen. That means a hundred and fifty-five more are needed. If we end a little short, that shouldn’t make a difference, but to impress him I’d like to be as close to two hundred as possible.”

  Dayna was obviously still dubious, but Holt became pensive.

  “Well, I suppose it’s possible, but we need to face facts. More spinning and weaving means more machines. Then there’s training of new workers. We don’t know how productive more workers and machines are going to be by the time you have to send your message. Then it would depend on when the Harrasedic ship arrives.”

  Mark smiled, relieved. He had them going from “it’s impossible” to “with lots of work and under some assumptions.”

  “We should also talk with Mayor Bynum,” said Dayna. “We may need to bring in workers from other towns and villages. He’ll need to know what’s happening, and he may have ideas.”

  Mark had met what passed for the town’s leader several times and had gotten a good impression. Bynum had been the “mayor” for twenty years, and although the position was not hereditary, Bynum had taken over after his father’s death had left the position vacant.

  “Good idea, I’ll go right away to see him after we finish here,” said Mark. “Then I’ll find Kornel about making more spinners and looms. We’ll add them as we get new workers.”

  Mark waited until another eighty bolts were produced after their return from Brawsea before he sent duplicate letters to the Harrasedic trader, Nigulas, in Brawsea. One letter went by the Frangel version of the post office—meaning sporadic pickup and delivery, with items too commonly lost or damaged in transit. The second letter was delivered by a young Tregallon man hankering to see a big city. Mark paid him a small gold upon leaving, with the promise of three more when he returned with a letter from Nigulas.

  Both letters were delivered to the correct recipient, as reported in the return message.

  Ser Kaldwel,

  I received both of your letters and am pleased to learn you will have the agreed-on number of bolts ready for delivery. I plan to leave Brawsea on the first Godsday of next month, the Frangelese month of Hemulton. Assuming good weather, we should be at the cove you described a few days later. We will anchor and wait if you are not there. Be warned the captain will only delay no more than two days. I suggest you arrive early to be sure we connect.

  Respectfully,

  Juko Nigulas, Factor, House of Vanyo, Free City of Hapsula

  “I doubt we’ll achieve the two hundred bolts you promised the Harrasedic,” said Dayna, when Mark shared Nigulas’s letter. “That only gives us four sixdays before you need to leave to meet the ship.”

  “But it should be close,” said Mark. “We have one hundred and forty-two. If we can come close to one hundred and ninety, I don’t think Nigulas will balk at the sale.”

  The next twenty-four days were long work hours for the entire staff, including Mark. He went from one group to another, constantly checking progress and urging people to work harder. When he left Tregallon, it was with two wagons, two drivers, one guard in addition to Mark, and 184 bolts of flurox cloth, each bolt one of three solid colors or undyed. Dayna had begun experimenting with weaving their first multicolored cloth, but Mark estimated it would be many months before they tried production of anything other than plain cloth. He figured once the Harrasedics purchased an entire shipload of the plain cloth, there would be time and coin to further expand and diversify.

  They arrived at Derwun Bay early to be sure they didn’t miss the Vanyo ship. The four men camped within a grove of trees similar to live oaks and a hundred yards from the shore not far from where Mark first awoke on Anyar. There, they waited. Mark’s niggling worry that they might have missed the ship threatened to transform into full-bore catastrophizing by the evening of the third day. He slept fitfully that night and was standing on the beach when the sun rose the next morning. He didn’t count how many times he walked the breadth of the beach, only that by the time the tide changed, his footprints covered the sand. A wave washed halfway up the beach when he first saw sails.

  He sighed in relief only when convinced he recognized the same purple-and-gold flag on the ship that had been displayed in front of the Vanyo building in Brawsea. An hour later, the ship dropped anchor two hundred yards offshore. Mark recognized the man waving as Nigulas.

  The Harrasedic stepped out of a longboat manned by eight men. “We were delayed two days. I’m not sure what the reason was, but port officials insisted on searching the ship for something they never explained. Just one of those things that occasionally happens in foreign ports.”

  The Harrasedic looked around. “So, where are the bolts?”

  “Just off the beach.”

  “All right, let me look at them. If they’re as good as the ones you showed me in Brawsea, then we have a deal. I’ll pay you while the crew starts transferring the bolts. The captain has an instinct that a storm is brewing, and he wants to be as far north as we can get today.”

  They wound along a game trail from the beach to the campsite. Nigulas took an hour to give at least a cursory inspection of every bolt. The Harrasedic didn’t say anything about numbers but ended by matching Dayna’s count of 184.

  “Close enough, as promised,” confirmed Nigulas, after examining the last bolt, “and I’ll pay the agreed-on price per bolt. I left the coin on the ship, but if we can load the longboat with the first batch, I’ll return with the payment.”

  Mark would have preferred to be paid before any bolts were taken away, but he didn’t want to make an issue of it—hoping that the Harrasedic wouldn’t just sail away.

  “That’s fine, and while your men are loading, shall we talk about our future relationship?”

  “In a moment,” said Nigulas, who called out in Suvalu to the crewmen who had followed them from the beach. “Start loading bolts. Careful with them, and wrap five at a time in the heavy cloths we brought.”

  The Harrasedic turned back to Mark. “The cloths are water-resistant—enough to get them on the ship in good shape and then be stored in the special hold with Brawsea cloth.

  “Now . . . the future? I can’t commit the House of Vanyo since I’m not senior enough, but I’d be shocked if our leaders didn’t want to develop a long-term association with you. Of course, they’ll want to know how you can produce cloth at such lower prices than we pay in Brawsea. I’ve seen the weaving works there, and I don’t know how they could double production with same number of workers. The obvious suspicion is that you’ve improved the weaving speed.”

  Nigulas held up a hand before Mark could reply.

  “No, I don’t expect you to tell me how you do it, but don’t be surprised if you can’t keep it a secret very long. I expect our leaders will try to find out, not to mention people and groups here i
n Frangel. I can imagine how the Brawsea guilds will panic when word gets out that we’re buying Frangel cloth from elsewhere on Drilmar and at a fraction of the usual price.”

  “Well,” said Mark, “if it works out, by the time the guilds know what’s happening we will have production high enough that our trading relationship with the House of Vanyo will be well established.”

  Nigulas shrugged. “Time will tell, and only a Master of the Universe might know, but I’m optimistic about how Vanyo will respond. One question sure to be asked at our main hall is whether you can supply cloth in other than the plain colors we’re taking back to Hapsula. These are fine, but there are better profit margins in patterned cloth.”

  “We’re just starting to produce multicolored cloth,” Mark assured him, not mentioning that these were only Dayna’s first experiments. “It’ll take some time to increase production.”

  “My advice would be not to copy the Brawsea patterns. While they are recognized throughout eastern Melosia, it would be to your and our advantage to have novel designs. That way, the House of Vanyo can market something new, and you can possibly avoid exacerbating relations with the Brawsea guilds more than they already will be.”

  Mark snorted, dismissively. “Well, I’m not worried about the guilds. They’re a long way from Tregallon and even farther from Kaledon. We worked out an agreement with the Kaledon wagon guild for another product. I don’t know about the Kaledon textile guilds, but I’m sure we can make some arrangement with them. Otherwise, we’ll simply expand production near Tregallon and maybe some of the smaller cities and large towns.”

  “Don’t dismiss too lightly the reach of the Brawsea guilds or those in Kaledon,” said Nigulas. “I’m not as familiar with those in Kaledon as I am in Brawsea, but, as I said, I’d keep an eye out for possible trouble.”

  A seaman interrupted their conversation. “Factor Nigulas, we’re ready to row back to the ship. Are you staying until we return for the rest or coming back with us?”

  “I’ll come with you. I have something to retrieve from my cabin.”

  The seaman called to the other men to launch the longboat.

  “I’ll be back,” said Nigulas and joined the others.

  Mark watched them row, unable to tamp down worry the trader wouldn’t return. He relaxed only when he saw Nigulas climb back down into one of two boats that returned this trip. Ten minutes later, Mark was handed a leather sack while the ship’s crew began wrapping and loading the remainder of the bolts into the longboats.

  “Here it is,” said Nigulas. “As we agreed. Count it if you wish.”

  Mark loosened the draw-string and peered quickly inside. “No need. By the weight, it must be about right, and I wouldn’t expect a short-fall on this, our first transaction.”

  Nigulas offered a right hand, and Mark clasped it, saying, “Here’s to a long and profitable future for both of us.”

  “If you have a God or Gods, may they make it so,” said Nigulas. “I probably won’t be able to send a message back to here from Hapsula once my house has made any decisions, but I’ll get a message to you as soon as I return to Drilmar—which will be in five to six months. I assume you will not be returning to Brawsea since you imply Kaledon will be your main location. I also hope you work out arrangements with the guilds there. It will make it easier if we use a major port. Also, is there someone in Kaledon I could send a message to, in case you’re not in Tregallon when I return?”

  “There’s a craftsman named Argah, but I don’t know his complete name or exactly where his home and shop are. However, as soon as I have the address in Kaledon, I’ll send a message to your Brawsea house.”

  “Good enough. One way or another, we’ll make contact. If all goes well for both of us, I look forward to buying all the bolts you can produce by the time I return.”

  The Harrasedic turned toward the last longboat, now ready to be pushed off the beach.

  “One question, Ser Nigulas. You think your house will be interested, but what if your leaders don’t agree with you?”

  “Oh, I doubt that will happen, but if it does, then I’ll make other arrangements. The House of Vanyo is cautious, but it also doesn’t discourage members from pursuing options the leadership declines to be involved with. If Vanyo is not interested, I can talk with other houses or even put together an independent consortium of investors. Every instinct tells me this is an opportunity I can’t let escape, so you can expect to see me back here in five or six months with even larger sacks of coin.”

  Mark stood on the sand for most of an hour while Nigulas boarded his ship. It then raised anchor, unfurled its sails, left the bay, and disappeared at the horizon. However, his mind was on bolts, hiring more workers, ordering more machines, and what he would do with the profits of a dynamic textile industry.

  “Is that sack at your feet what I think it is?” asked Ulwyn, who had come from the encampment.

  “Yeah. A lot of small gold coins.”

  “Hand it to me. I know most of it will go to expanding cloth production, but I love just feeling the weight and knowing it’s ours, if only for a short time.”

  Mark laughed, his elation unhidden. “This is just the first sale. We’ll have plenty of chances to hold sacks of coin. But with what Nigulas paid, I can ramp of production. By God, I think this is going to actually work as well or better than I’d hoped.”

  Two sixdays later, Mark was once again leaving for Kaledon, this time accompanied only by Holt Firman. Mark wanted Dayna to come, too, but both Firmans held fast to their decision that she needed to stay with their two young children. Mark tried to argue, then surrendered when Holt said that his wife had just learned she was pregnant again.

  Mark had considered adding two men as guards because he was carrying a moderate fraction of the profits from both of his first introductions. Finally, he decided that two men dressing down to peasant level would be less noticeable. Still, both men carried arms in plain sight, and more firearms were concealed on their mounts and the two packhorses.

  By not using wagons, they were able to push the horses and arrived in Kaledon after a single sixday. The blacksmith, Stillum, was their first stop, and he quartered them and their horses in his house and stable the first night.

  “Everything is going well here, Ser Kaldwel,” said Stillum. “Spring sales were strong and then sagged, as we predicted. Almost all the major blacksmiths are making them, and any wagon maker who doesn’t include them in new wagons is losing most of his customers. Sorry about Brawsea not working out for the springs, but I’m thinking by the time we make enough springs for most wagons in this part of Frangel, we might begin exporting to Novaryn.”

  The next morning, Mark and Holt went to Argah and got a similar sales report.

  “We’re still selling pins at a good rate, though sales are slowing, as more tradesmen start making them. Your idea about calling ours the ‘original Tregallon pins’ is helping, but even so, I’ve had to lower the price. It’s clear we’ve made most of the big profits, but it’ll continue as a low-level income stream into the future.

  “However, I can’t help you with your new idea. I know nothing about textiles. You’re on your own. You can wander around the city and check on shops, but it’d be easier to wait until the Kaledon market day. There will be scores of cloth and clothing stalls. You could talk to all of them the same day.”

  “That’s three days from now,” Mark said. “We’ve really got nothing else to do until them. I don’t want to waste time. Holt and I will explore our options.”

  “Well,” said Mark, as he and Holt left Argah’s shop, “I was hoping for a little more help. It means we need to find a Kaledon partner for our cloth—someone who can see the potential for his own sales and who can help us start planning for production facilities in Kaledon. If it takes making him a minor partner, it’d be worth it. I also want to get a sense of the textile guild situation here before contacting them directly. The shopkeepers might provide enough information to he
lp us make a decision on that.”

  Mark had resigned himself to seeking partnerships because it had worked well for pins and springs. He had already given the Firmans a small share in addition to their salaries. He figured their commitment and experience would be worth it. Now, he needed someone to be his primary Kaledon contact, even though he anticipated moving full time to the larger city.

  He shook his head. “I confess I didn’t think very far ahead and assumed Argah would help. He’s right that market day would be the easiest way to get a general sense of who might work with us, but if we found someone promising, there wouldn’t be time for serious discussion. For now, we’ll wander around looking for cloth and clothing shops. What we’re after is someone who is interested in being a junior partner. If it’s like with the pins and springs, it’ll probably be a tradesman of a smaller shop who’s ambitious.”

  “Why don’t we split up?” asked Holt. “We’ll cover twice as many shops. Naturally, I can’t make any decisions, but when we meet back tonight, I can tell you if I found any promising candidates.”

  “Hmmm . . . yes, you’re right, but let’s meet at mid-day. That’ll give us a couple of hours to see how it’s going.” Mark turned to survey what they could see of the city’s skyline from the small hill where Argah’s shop was located. “See the big cathedral? Starting from here, we’ll go in opposite directions, circle around, and meet there at mid-day. If I remember from the last time I was in Kaledon, that’s the largest cathedral in the city, and it sits next to the main market plaza. We’ll meet, eat, and check with each other on results.”

  They parted. Mark watched Holt’s back for a few moments while he reflected on his good fortune to have connected with the Firmans. Hiring the husband had almost been an afterthought because he had to satisfy local customs. Yet Holt might turn out to be the most valuable member of the couple. He might not have Dayna’s artistic flair or be as clever, but his organizational skill and willingness to take on responsibility were proving invaluable.