“What of the third type?” prodded Rejji.
“The ones in the middle,” Wendal said. “There is no easy way to define them. Typically they seek to sell products that are not rare and yet not required by the masses. It is a difficult range to thrive in unless you are able to control the supply of your items. This is the area that Brontos liked. He would bring back items from Fakara that while not rare, where only accessible to him and a few other traders. So, although the items might be plentiful, not every merchant had access to them. By releasing only as much as he wanted to, he was able to control the price and make a good profit. If many merchants decided to descend on Fakara and create competition for Brontos, then his profits would plummet.”
“So the teeth I sold him were not rare, but he could set the price on them because I sold only to him?” asked Rejji.
“Exactly,” nodded Wendal. “If you had been selling to many merchants, Brontos would not have been able to turn a fair profit on them. Of course when you made them no longer available, the teeth became rare and the price rose a great deal.”
“And if I was able to supply them again?” Rejji probed.
“That would depend on the quantity you offered for sale,” explained Wendal. “If you tried to sell a lot of them, the price would plummet. You must realize that while there are purchasers for the teeth, the number of purchasers is limited. You get a higher price when there are more purchasers than there are items to go around. The greater the imbalance, the greater the profit.”
“What things did Brontos come back with most of the time?” the Pikata slave asked.
“I was not real familiar with Brontos’s merchandise,” admitted Wendal. “He seldom came back with anything rare enough for me to purchase. I know he brought in some fine silk garments, carved woodcrafts, nuggets of a strange metal, and your teeth. He purchased mostly seeds and farming implements to take with him to Fakara.”
Rejji nodded and gazed up at the high sun and decided it was time for the midday meal. He opened the sack the inn had provided and inspected the contents. It was a decent meal of cured meat, cheese and bread. He started eating and felt eyes upon him. He looked up and saw Wendal watching him.
“I am sorry,” apologized Rejji. “Would you care for some?”
“Actually I would,” smiled Wendal. “It has been a long time since I had a fresh midday meal.”
Rejji offered the sack to Wendal. “Don’t you bring a meal with you everyday?” he asked.
“No,” Wendal replied. “I am here from sun up until sundown. If I take a break for a meal, I may miss a customer. It is easier to forego the meal.”
“Why not stop at an inn on your way here and get a bag to go?” inquired Rejji.
“It is a busy time for the inns,” replied Wendal. “The wait would be too long.”
“Do the rest of the merchants do this as well?” queried Rejji.
“Most do,” Wendal answered. “The permanent ones anyway. The transient merchants usually bring their own food.”
“Would the permanent merchants pay to have a meal brought to them?” quizzed Rejji.
“I imagine they would be most eager,” chuckled Wendal. “You certainly have a future if you ever figure out how to rid yourself of that slave tunic. I think most of the permanent merchants would not be adverse to paying an extra gold coin for the delivery service.”
Rejji grinned and stood facing the line of inns behind the first row of stalls. Wendal reached over and pressed three gold coins into Rejji’s hand.
“Try the Wine Press,” the merchant suggested. “They serve a decent meal for one gold and would probably offer a discount if you were to purchase a lot of meals.”
“How many do you think I could sell?” asked the Pikata slave.
“Start with fifty meals,” advised Wendal. “Offer them thirty gold, but be prepared to pay forty. If you sell them for two gold each, you will make from sixty to seventy gold for you efforts. That is a very tidy sum for a short time.”
Rejji grinned and headed straight for the Wine Press. He entered the common room and was immediately struck by how much fancier it was than the Inn of the Rose. The clientele sitting in the room also appeared to be more affluent. He felt awkward in his slave tunic, but he strode up to the innkeeper.
“I understand that you serve a decent meal for a fair price,” opened Rejji.
The old innkeeper squinted at the pin on Rejji’s tunic before answering, “Ah, a Bursar’s boy. We serve only fresh foods here and the price is one gold. Is your master staying with us? I don’t recall seeing him.”
“No, he is at the palace,” Rejji stated. “Would you be wiling to sell fifty bag meals for thirty in gold?”
The innkeeper’s eyes narrowed as he studied Rejji. “And what would you do with fifty meals?” he asked.
“Feed the hungry,” Rejji grinned. “Actually I may need to have a hundred or two hundred, but fifty is all I want right now. If I need more I will come back.”
“Do you have gold?” the innkeeper inquired.
Rejji held up his pouch of coins and the innkeeper nodded.
“Forty gold would be fair,” the innkeeper stated.
“Thirty five would even be fairer,” smiled Rejji. “Your room is hardly full and I would be getting rid of a lot of food so you can prepare fresh food for the evening meal.”
The innkeeper shook his head and sighed, but he stuck out his hand for the coins. “I suppose you will want to borrow a cart to haul it?”
“If that does not cause you troubles,” nodded Rejji.
“Very well, lad,” the innkeeper said. “Go around back and fetch the cart. Bring it to the rear door and we will start handing out the bags.”
Rejji raced around the inn and found the cart alongside the stables. It was fairly dirty and Rejji took the time to secure a broom from the stables and clean it off. When he pushed it to the rear door of the inn, he could see the kitchen staff stuffing food into pillow sleeves. A kitchen girl started handing the sacks out to Rejji. The innkeeper walked out and watched.
“You will need to leave me ten gold as a deposit for the cart and pillow sleeves,” the innkeeper declared. “They must be returned.”
Rejji nodded and gave the man the coins. He grabbed the last few sacks and hurried off to the market stalls. From his previous day’s work, Rejji knew right where the permanent merchants were and he didn’t bother going to the ends of the rows.
The reaction of the merchants was very positive. There was no quibble over the two gold price and most of the merchants that Rejji went to bought a meal. Rejji knew there were around three hundred permanent merchants, but time would limit the number he could serve. He sold the meals as fast as he could without being abrupt. When the meals ran out, merchants down the row were calling to him to bring more.
Rejji returned twice to the Wine Press to reload the cart and by the time he emptied the third cart, the sun was declining. He returned to the inn and settled up with the innkeeper. He returned the cart to the side of the stable and walked to Wendal’s stall.
“How did you make out?” Wendal inquired.
“One hundred and fifty meals sold,” grinned Rejji. “I now have three hundred gold coins. If I get an earlier start tomorrow, maybe I will have enough to buy Mistake.”
“Perhaps,” frowned Wendal as he started to pack up his stall. “You have talent lad,” he smiled. “There are more lessons for you down the road though.”
“I will find a way,” promised Rejji. “I have to.”
Wendal remained silent as he packed his wares up. Rejji gazed around at the market and saw the figure in the black cloak again. The man was two rows away, but Rejji was sure that the man was watching him. He turned and asked Wendal if he had ever seen the man before, but when Rejji and Wendal looked, the man was gone.