"Can't the guild vote to disband?" the youngest, Wladyslaw, asked.
"But there's nothing in the rules-"
"And to hell with your rules! 1, Sir Conrad Stargard, by the power granted to me by my sword, do hereby proclaim your guild null and void. Questions?"
Thom checked with his brothers. "No, I guess not."
"So. I'm not sure of local property values, but for your house and furnace and lands, does two thousand pence sound fair?"
I got enthusiastic nods from the younger two. The eldest said, "We also have certain rights and privileges to clay and wood, and two thousand pence would not quite cover our debts."
"Let's make it twenty-five hundred, then," I said. "I would not want my vassals to be suffering from debt."
"Vassals? You would take an oath?"
"Of course, and I would expect you to, also. All of you and your wives, besides."
"Our wives?"
"An oath of honesty and fair work. Your wives help you, don't they?"
"Yes, but-"
"I do not touch other men's wives. Now, what would you say to six hundred pence per year each, with two hundred pence to each of your wives? When your children are old enough to help, we'll discuss it. Agreed?"
The eldest looked about. "I suppose so."
"Good. I will pay half of your first year's salary in advance, since it appears that you need some things around here. You need some clothes, but don't buy a lot. The price of common cloth is about to drop."
"How can you know?"
"Let's say that I can smell it. In addition, since I want you to apply yourselves diligently to this enterprise, once all expenses, improvements, materials, taxes, salaries, and so forth are paid, you will divide among yourselves one-twelfth of the surplus."
"Profit" is not a nice word for a socialist.
Their mute agreement had turned to enthusiasm.
"Good. Now go discuss the matter with your wives. Come to me while the sun is still high, for I want your oaths. I shall be at the inn."
I was only halfway through my first beer when the six of them showed up, smiling.
"Innkeeper, I want your whole staff in the courtyard. There are oaths to be taken!"
So we had a deal, and it was in this manner that 1–1 can't say nationalized, since I'm not a nation, but, socialized the Bros. Krakowski Brass Works. In doing so, I was acting again, playing the role of the shrewd merchant and dirtying my good socialist soul in the process. The thing needed doing, and much of being a man is doing the things that must be done no matter how unnatural or painful they are. Surely this was a small evil compared with the naked corpses I had left in a snowy wood.
I bought the beer, called for an honest scale, and weighed out the money I owed. When I had left Okoitz, Count Lambert had been distracted with the planting and hadn't mentioned money, so I had brought along twenty thousand pence of my own. I wasn't worried; the count was honest. You see, you must either trust a person or not trust him. It is stupid to rely on oaths or marks on a piece of parchment because a thief will rob you no matter what is written down, and an honest man stays honestwithin reason.
I weighed out thirty-seven hundred pence in goldthe exchange rate of silver to gold being 54 to 1-which I gave to Thom. Then I weighed out another four thousand and told him that I wanted him to buy copper and calamine at the best possible prices. We needed a woodcarver, and I told him to find one. The other two brothers were ordered to go out and bring in vast amounts of firewood and clay and start making charcoal.
There was some consternation, and then it was agreed that the innkeeper would safeguard the gold until morning, since he kept an armed guard at night.
Chapter Eighteen
The party was breaking up as Krystyana returned. She was excited about her day's shopping in the big city. As supper was served, she prattled on and on about pins and churches and ribbons and merchants and the outlandish price of dinner. I was in a good mood and said little. I heard every detail of every bargain, and sometimes feminine babble makes a pleasant background noise to relax in. Eventually she wound down.
"That's wonderful, pretty girl. Did you buy anything for yourself?"
"Well, no. I mean, you said…"
"Then here's fifty pence to spend tomorrow on things that you want." This was greeted by squeals. "Did you have any luck with dyes or a dyer?"
"I looked at them, but dyes are so complicated, Sir Conrad. A pound of this one can do something, but an ounce of that one can do more and-"
Pounds? Ounces? I'd forgotten the metric conversions. "I understand. Any word about a dyer?"
"I heard of one, but they called him a 'walker' because he walks on the cloth being dyed. People said that they had heard of him, but nobody knew him."
"Well, then you know what to do tomorrow. Keep the serving woman with you from now on. I want you to look into the price of raw woolen cloth, the kind that you make on the loom. See if you can't find a merchant willing to buy, say, a thousand yards at slightly less than the present wholesale price, for delivery next spring." If I had to play the merchant, I thought that I might as well make some gain from it. My hands were already dirty.
"I'll try, Sir Conrad."
"And I know that you'll do a wonderful job. It grows late. What do you say? One more cup of wine and then to bed?"
The next few days were busy. Thom had located a copper merchant who wanted to sell out his entire — stock and move to a better-more profitable-place. We could buy copper at half price, along with some calamine, lead, and tin, if we bought his entire stock. I looked it over and paid an additional 3,250 pence. They found an out-of-work wood-carver. I looked at his work in a few churches and swore him in at five hundred pence a year. I told him that he was now a pattern maker.
Clay and wood were coming in slowly, so I told the brothers that they should hire twelve men temporarily and keep the best four on a permanent basis.
Krystyana found her walker, a Florentine who had come north to seek his fortune and had picked up a fair amount of Polish while starving in Cieszyn. He claimed to be a journeyman dyer, but on questioning him I discovered that he had never completed his apprenticeship. He had also been apprenticed as a wool sorter, a comber, a carder, and a warper. He had some experience with linen that he preferred not to discuss.
He was thirty years old and a perpetual misfit. Or maybe a diamond in the rough. I had mixed feelings about the man. "Okay, Angelo Muskarini. It is good that you have finally told me the truth. As my liege lord is about to enter the clothmaking business, it is possible that we can use you. Perhaps you know something that will help him. Look long and hard before you criticize my loom or spinning wheels! Aside from that, if you can improve the quality or quantity of his cloth, you will be very well rewarded. If you do not produce results, we shall trans port you back to your garret here at Cieszyn. Understood?" It was.
I swore him in for two years at one hundred pence per year, plus food and lodging. Then I put him up at my expense at the back of the inn for two pence per day. I advanced him three months' pay for beer and such just to see how he'd do. As it turned out, he saved most of it, barring a little he spent for clothes. Sometimes when a man has spent enough time between the hammer and the anvil, he turns into good steel.
Besides explaining to the Krakowski brothers about building patterns for molds, I had to explain about grinding wheels and lathes. It is not enough to cast a bushing. It has to be perfectly round, and that is not possible with casting alone.
The wood-carver, Ivor Korenkov, found himself instructing his new employers, and the days wound on.
Krystyana made the right commercial connection. She found a cloth merchant eager to deal. It was already arranged that he would buy some two thousand square yards-Cieszyn measure-of raw wool cloth for seveneighths of the current price, twenty-three pence per square yard. We swore the agreement before a notary, who produced three copies: one for each of us and one for himself. We left one thousand pence each with a Templar as surety, and the deal was closed.