“What is it, Kindan?” Natalon asked cheerfully.
“There’s a trader caravan approaching,” Kindan told him. The other miners perked up at that and began talking happily among themselves, hoping that there were new apprentices in the caravan or wondering whether the traders brought some of the things they’d been missing, such as new fabrics—“for the wife”—or pickaxes—“never can have enough.”
“When do you think it’ll arrive at the camp?” Natalon asked.
Kindan pursed his lips thoughtfully. “Probably just as your shift ends.” The other miners, who had gone quiet to hear their conversation, raised a cheer over the news. Kindan could see the weary acceptance in Natalon’s face.
“Master Zist’s got all the welcoming preparations under way,”
Kindan assured him. “He wanted to know if you would let him host another evening in the hold’s great room.”, Natalon nodded his assent. “And, if there’re new apprentices, they’ll need to be assigned shifts and lodging,” he added, diving into the administrative side of his job with a deep sigh.
“Master Zist asked if he and Swanee couldn’t consider that,” Kindan said, happily stuffing words into the Harper’s and the camp’s supplier’s mouths. He knew how tired he was from all the excitement of the past day, and he hadn’t been working shifts, nor was it his wife who’d given birth that morning. He worked up a smile. “I believe Master Zist said that it would be an interesting challenge for him.”
Natalon gave in with a wave of his hands. “I’ll leave it to him then.” He turned to his crew. “You lot get back to work. You’ve had enough of a break.”
He put a fatherly hand on Kindan’s shoulder. “I’ll walk you back to the shaft,” he said. As soon as they were out of earshot of the others, he asked, “Did you see how many coal drays they had with them?”
Kindan frowned, trying to remember. He had only just seen the head of the caravan in the rising fog. “It was still foggy,” he admitted. “I think there were four.”
Natalon looked puzzled. “We’ve enough bagged coal for five, I think, nearly six. If they’ve only brought four it’ll be months before we sell all our bagged coal. If they’ve brought six...”
Kindan had learned a lot in his months with the Harper. The camp could supply many of its own needs—lumber, coal, meat, some herbs and greens—but they needed flour, fabric, finished metal goods like pickaxes, spices, and all the little incidentals that made living more than just drudgery. Those goods had to be paid for, and coal was the way the camp paid for them. Traders preferred bagged coal, dry and ready to sell. They charged a penalty for wet coal, and another penalty for loose coal.
If the caravan had only brought four coal drays, then the camp could only buy goods equal to that amount. But if the caravan brought six coal drays and Natalon had only enough for slightly more than five, there might be a bigger problem: No trader made a profit hauling half-filled wagons or, worse, empty ones. The trader could well decide to move on to another Camp in hopes of getting a full load. There’d be another caravan along soon that’d take what bagged coal Camp Natalon had, but it’d be at least another month.
Kindan knew how the miners would feel to see a caravan leave without trading, even if the Camp had enough goods to carry it through until another caravan arrived. He could only guess at the unease the new apprentices would feel to arrive at a Camp that couldn’t buy the goods the traders had brought.
Except for the coal bagged and set aside in a dry cave, all the coal that had been mined in the fall and winter was in a huge pile covered with melting snow. The warmer weather would easily see it dried out, but that couldn’t be expected for at least another three sevendays or more—far longer than any trader would be willing to wait.
“How long would it take to mine enough coal to fill a sixth dray?” Kindan asked.
Natalon raised his eyebrows in surprise, then nodded in comprehension. “Master Zist asked you to consider all possibilities, then?”
Kindan shrugged. “I’m certain of four drays ... but if there were more out of sight, then there might be six altogether. It never hurts to be prepared, does it?”
“No, it doesn’t,” Natalon agreed heartily, looking at the sturdy supports he’d placed along this tunnel. “Although,” he said with a stern look at Kindan, “it’s better to be accurate than to guess.”
“I know,” Kindan agreed mournfully. “Next time I’ll stay until I’m certain that I’ve seen the end of the caravan.”
Natalon looked at Kindan and noted the set of his jaw and the slump in his shoulders. It was obvious to him that Kindan had really thought through all the implications of his mistake and would not repeat it.
“Good,” Natalon said firmly. “So how much to fill a sixth dray, eh?” He pursed his lips thoughtfully. “If we worked three shifts, maybe two or three days.” He sighed. “But we can’t work three shifts. I’ve no one trained to be a shift leader for the third shift.”
“So it’d take four days with two shifts?” Kindan guessed. Natalon agreed. “But how long will it take to fill the drays?”
“Usually we take the working shift and have them fill the drays,” Natalon said. “With ten men in two shifts, we can fill the drays in a day or two.”
“So, what if we could form a third shift to fill the drays while the other two kept on mining?” Kindan wondered. “They’d fill the drays in about three days, wouldn’t they?”
Natalon considered the question and finally nodded. “Yes.”
“So all we have to do is convince the trader to stay on an extra day,” Kindan said.
“Maybe,” Natalon allowed. Then he shook his head. “But traders don’t make profits sitting around. They’re just as likely to decide to go to another Camp for their coal.”
“They’d lose time with that, too.” Kindan shook his head. “Why don’t I ask the Harper to help out? I’m sure he’ll enjoy the challenge.”
Natalon chuckled. “You’ve used that phrase twice now, lad,” he noted. “Is it one dear to the Harper?”
“Yes,” Kindan agreed, suppressing a grin. They had arrived at the mine shaft. “Let Master Zist take care of it, please. He managed the birthing—I’m sure this will be nothing for him.”
Natalon laughed aloud at the comparison. “All right, Kindan, you may tell Master Zist that I leave it all in his capable hands.”
“I will,” Kindan said, tugging on the lift ropes to signal his ascent.
Master Zist was amused at Kindan’s creative solutions to his challenge but not at all amused that Kindan had managed to dump Natalon’s problems squarely in his lap.
“Well,” he said when he’d digested all the news, “if I’m to play the Holder while Natalon’s resting and Tarik’s working his shift, you’ll have to play the Harper.” He ignored Kindan’s horrified expression and continued blithely, “I’m sure that Swanee has got his lists together and can talk all that’s necessary about supplies and payments, but he strikes me as an honest man, and that’s not the best sort of person to deal with traders.”
Kindan stoutly declaimed Swanee’s honesty. “Well then,” the Harper said, “there you go. Traders are honest in their own way, too: They’ll always give you what you pay for, but they don’t go out of their way to be sure to give you their best price. That takes bargaining. Traders love to bargain.”
From the glint in Master Zist’s eyes, Kindan got the impression that the Harper enjoyed bargaining himself.
“Bargaining,” the Harper continued, “takes lots of talk. And talk is what a Harper does best.” He wagged a warning finger at Kindan and added, “Although you’d never find a Trader willing to admit that a Harper could out-bargain him., “So,” he concluded, “it’ll be up to you to provide the entertainment while I provide the bargaining.”