Richard Tuttle - Web of Deceit

“That is large,” commented Rejji. “Where do you get these things? You are stuck here all day.”

“The market is only part of my business,” reflected Wendal. “After the sun descends I must meet with other traders to find merchandise to sell.”

“That does not leave you much time for other pursuits,” noted Rejji.

“This is what I want to do with my time,” smiled Wendal. “It is what I live for. Every time I make a good deal, I am blessed with a feeling of great satisfaction. I suspect you will come to know that feeling.”

“I did feel great yesterday,” nodded Rejji. “Today will be even better. I will start well before high sun this time and probably do twice as much business.”

It was not long after the stalls were all set up that a boy came down the row talking to each merchant.

“I am taking meal orders, Sirs,” the boy said. “Would you care to order a midday meal?”

Rejji stared, his eyes wide in surprise as Wendal asked, “ How much is the meal?”

“One gold, Sir,” the boy replied. “It will be fresh from the Wine Press and delivered around midday.”

Wendal looked at Rejji’s bag from the Inn of the Rose and said, “Yes, I think we will take one.”

The boy nodded and scampered off to the next stall.

“How can they do that?” Rejji blurted out. “That was my idea. They would never have thought about it if I hadn’t bought there yesterday.”

“Any inn you went to would have seized on the idea,” commented Wendal. “You forgot the rule of controlling the supply. In fact, I would not be surprised if tomorrow doesn’t bring other inns to compete for the meal business. It was a brilliant idea and I am surprised nobody thought of it earlier, but food is a common commodity and you remember what I told you about that yesterday.”

“Yes,” frowned Rejji. “High volume and low profits. Very competitive. Still I wish they had waited one more day. This is my last day here.”

“If they sell three hundred meals,” Wendal continued, “they will make ninety gold more than selling through you and the merchants will pay half the price. They will probably pay the boy two or three gold coins, which he will be thrilled to get. Everyone will be happy except you. There is a good lesson in this for you, Rejji. Learn to control your supply.”

Rejji was quiet and Wendal knew that the lad was saddened by losing the business that he had discovered. “I am sorry that you will be leaving,” Wendal stated. “I have come to enjoy your company. When will you be coming back to Khadoratung?”

“Probably never,” frowned Rejji. “It is most unusual for them to allow a slave to come on a trip like this. I think the Bursar wanted my company, but I doubt I will be working for him much longer. I suspect I will end up in the fields.”

“That is depressing,” Wendal stated. “To put you in the fields would be a waste of talent. I don’t think that will happen though.”

“Why not?” asked Rejji.

“Because you have too much talent, and someone will recognize that,” smiled Wendal. “You do not think like other people. That is your blessing. Lords don’t like to have slaves that are smarter than them either,” he grinned. “Somehow you will figure a way out of your dilemma. One last rule for you to remember. Never give up and never stop learning.”

“I wish I could be as positive as you,” commented Rejji. “I am going to spend some time browsing the market. Maybe it will take my mind off things.”

Wendal merely nodded as Rejji walked off and started to peruse the merchandise at the other stalls.

Rejji spent most of the day browsing. He looked at the type of stalls that he thought Brontos would supply and asked questions about the origins of some of the merchandise. After a few hours he was able to tell where most of the goods came from just by looking at them. Several times during the day, Rejji had the feeling of being watched. He always turned quickly, but he never did spot the mysterious stranger in black again.

As the sun descended, Rejji returned to Wendal’s stall and said his farewells. He then strode to the Inn of the Rose, had his final meal, and went to bed.

Rejji awoke to a pounding on his door. He slipped out of bed and opened the door to find the Bursar standing there. Rejji gathered his things and followed the Bursar outside where a huge wagon with four horses was waiting. Rejji recognized the traveling merchant’s wagon as the one he had seen at the estate the day he was sold.

“This is our ride home, lad,” Wicado said. “Climb up and let’s be on our way and then you can tell me how you fared in the market.”

Rejji took out his notes and explained what the row and stall numbers meant and what the prices were for each commodity that the Bursar had asked for. Rejji further explained his theory on the placement of the stalls and Wicado seemed genuinely interested. The merchant listened to Rejji’s tales but never spoke.

The trip to the Pikata estate took much longer than the barge trip had. They stopped each night and camped. Wicado and the merchant kept up a constant banter about the doings of the various clans, with the merchant asking questions and the Bursar gleefully providing the answers. Rejji was amazed at how much about the clans Wicado knew and they never seemed to run out of things to talk about.

Rejji did get to talk to Wicado some, particularly about Fakara and what was to become of Rejji, but the merchant and Rejji never spoke to each other. When they finally arrived back at the estate, the merchant and Wicado were good friends. Wicado climbed off the wagon and started to head into the mansion with Rejji and the merchant in tow. Suddenly, Wicado stopped.

“Rejji,” the Bursar said, “I have quite a bit to do today with reports and getting this merchant set up. Why don’t you go and greet your friends. I won’t need you for anything. Report to me in the morning.”

Rejji smiled and nodded and turned towards the clova flock to check up on Bakhai before going into the mansion. He was amazed to see how well the flock was doing. The clova were fat and healthy. He looked around the field and could not find Bakhai. Rymaka was not around either and Rejji wondered if there might be trouble. Then he remembered that Wicado had said he would speak to the Seneschal about Bakhai on the day they left for Khadoratung. He wondered if Bakhai might be in the stables as he had suggested.

Rejji was just about to leave the clova field when he heard a scream. He whirled towards the trees at the far end of the field and saw two soldiers wrestling with something brown. He heard the scream again and it sent chills down his spine. The scream was female and Rejji knew the voice. It was Mistake screaming and his mind flashed back to the conversation he had with her when she had proposed hiding out here during the day and escaping at night.

Rejji’s heart sank as he realized that he had returned too late from the capital and Mistake had decided to escape without him. He turned and ran towards the screams.

As Rejji raced across the field, he saw the two soldiers subduing Mistake. His mind raced faster than his legs as he tried to figure out to diffuse the situation, if indeed there was a possibility of that. Everyone had been clear that the penalty for escaping was death, but Rejji knew that he would die fighting these soldiers before he would let them kill Mistake.

The soldiers heard him coming and one of them rose and drew his sword.

“Stop!” yelled Rejji. “Don’t hurt her.”

The soldier holding Mistake shouted, “Leave here now or you will be punished too.”

Rejji kept running and the soldier raised his sword to strike and suddenly halted his swing as Rejji skid to a halt.