“Your pouch is getting a little large to be hanging from your belt,” Wendal said. “Let me show you a trick.”
Wendal pulled out a knife and removed Rejji’s belt. Where the belt usually lay across Rejji’s tunic, Wendal cut a slit in the fabric. He bent down and retrieved two pouches from underneath his stall. He untied the drawstring on one and handed the other to Rejji.
“Put the bulk of your coins in that pouch,” instructed Wendal as he retrieved a needle from the inside of his own belt.
He cut the stitching on the cordless pouch and unraveled it. He took the strong thread from the stitching of the mutilated pouch and sewed one end of the drawstring to the inside of Rejji’s belt. The other end of the drawstring he tied to the pouch holding the bulk of Rejji’s gold. Lastly, he stuck the needle into the inside of Rejji’s belt and handed it to him.
“Let the large pouch ride inside your tunic,” Wendal explained. “Keep enough coins in your regular pouch so that you are seldom required to access the hidden one. I stuck the needle inside your belt. When you are back in your room, stitch up the ends of the cut that I made in your tunic so the tear doesn’t spread. Make sure the slit is large enough to pull your pouch through, but small enough to be hidden by your belt. When you get back to your estate and get some matching material, fashion some loops like mine to pass your belt through. That will keep your belt from sliding and revealing the hole in your tunic.”
Rejji thanked Wendal and strode back to the Inn of the Rose. He quietly sat where the innkeeper had preferred him to sit and waited. The service was prompt and Rejji smiled when he saw he was being served the same as everyone else. He ate quickly and silently and was relieved that the man in the black cloak had not shown up. He went upstairs and mended his tunic and went to bed.
Rejji woke early in anticipation of a profitable day. He whistled as he headed downstairs and found a plate of food and a bag meal waiting for him at his usual spot. Even the desire of the innkeeper to be rid of Rejji did not douse the excitement he was feeling as he hurriedly ate and left the inn. He was early enough that most merchants were still setting up as he strode towards Wendal’s stall. Several of the merchants he had sold meals to the day before waved to Rejji as he passed and the Pikata slave waved merrily back at them. Rejji thought he caught sight of the mysterious man in black again, but the arriving crowd milled between them and when Rejji looked again, he was gone.
Wendal was humming a merry tune when Rejji arrived and Rejji saw a rather large diamond going on display that had not been there the day before.
“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.