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tailor recommended to him by Lender. He supplied Roo with clothing fit for both Barret’s and social functions. Duncan went for far more colorful clothing, looking nothing so much like a court dandy as a former mercenary.
Jason came to him on the third day after the syndicate was formed and said, “Can I ask you something without causing offense, Mr. Avery?”
Roo said, “Certainly, Jason. You were the only one at Barret’s who tried to set me right when Kurt and the others were trying to trip me up; I consider us friends. What is it?”
“What is it exactly that your cousin is doing?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean Luis is overseeing the shipping schedule, seeing to rates, and making runs, I’m doing all the accounts and paying the workers, and Dash is helping Luis and me when either of us need him. But Duncan, well . . . well, he’s just sort of . . . around.”
Thinking of the encounter on the road with the driver from Jacoby’s and how Duncan could stand at his back with his sword, Roo said, “I understand your concern. Let’s just say he helps me. Is there anything else?”
Jason said, “No. I just . . . well, anyway. Are you heading for the coffee house?”
Roo nodded. “I’ll be there if you need me for anything.”
Roo reached Barret’s less than a half hour later only to discover the upper room in quite a minor frenzy. Masterson waved him over to the table and said, “Something is going on.”
Several waiters were hovering nearby, taking pieces of paper that were being scribbled upon by prince.qxd 9/4/02 10:38 AM Page 349
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Hume and Crowley. “What is it?” asked Roo.
“We’re getting offers. Many of them.”
Roo’s forehead furrowed. “Where are they coming from?”
Masterson said, “Why, from other members.”
“No, I mean where is the grain coming from?”
Masterson blinked. “I don’t know.”
Suddenly Roo felt certain he knew the answer. He took a waiter by the arm and said, “Send a message to my office. I want my cousin Duncan or my assistant Dash here as soon as possible.”
To the others he said, “Have we taken any positions?”
“Not yet,” said Crowley, “but the price is dropping and I’m inclined to think it’s not going to go lower.”
“How low?”
“It’s down to two silvers for three bushels, at eight percent secured.”
Roo lowered his voice. “I’m willing to bet one of the other brokers has sent someone east to the Vale of Dreams. Would you think that price reasonable if someone is bringing Keshian wheat north through the Vale?”
“What makes you think that?” asked Masterson.
Roo said, “Because I’m a sneaky bastard whose father drove a wagon to all parts of the Kingdom, including the border near the Vale.”
Soon Duncan showed up and Roo said, “I need you to start hitting inns near the traders’ gates. Listen for Valemen. I need to know if anyone has been buying grain in Kesh, who, and how much.”
After Duncan hurried off, Crowley said, “Are you using some magic power we’re ignorant of, or is this prince.qxd 9/4/02 10:38 AM Page 350
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a guess?”
“It’s a guess. But before sundown I think we’re going to find that as much wheat as we need, twice over, is on it its way west from the Vale.”
“Why?” said Hume. “Why do you think that?”
Grimly Roo said, “Because it’s what I would do if I wanted to ruin this syndicate.” He then asked,
“What sort of surety do we get regarding delivery?”
“The options are secured, so if the person offering the option defaults, he is liable under Kingdom law for the entire price, and more, for the gold we’d lose by not being able to ship the grain. To offer a contract and not make delivery would be terribly damaging .
. . unless . . .”
“Unless what?” asked Roo.
“Unless the association that might bring a claim in the King’s Court was already out of business and suffering suit for its own failure to meet contracts.”
Roo said, “Now I know someone is trying to ruin us.” He was silent a moment. “Do we have grounds to refuse the wheat for poor quality?”
Masterson said, “We don’t. We can refuse the contract delivery only if the grain is rotten or otherwise damaged. Why?”
“Because they’re paying the lowest prices, so they are going to be bringing in the cheapest grain out there.” Roo pointed at his three partners. “Who’s offering these contracts?”
“Various groups,” answered Crowley.
“Who’s behind them?”
Masterson’s eyes focused on the pile of notes as if trying to discern a pattern. After a moment he said,
“Jacob.”
Roo felt his chest constrict in panic.
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“Estherbrook?”
Hume and Crowley said, “Why would he meddle in this?” Roo said, “My fault, I fear. He might find things more convenient down the road if I were reduced to poverty quickly. Your ruination would be only an unfortunate consequence, nothing personal, I’m certain.”
“What do we do?” asked Crowley.
“Well, we can’t be buying wheat that even the most venal millers won’t buy.” Roo considered things for a few minutes in silence, then suddenly he said, “I have it!”
“What?”
“I’ll tell you when Duncan returns. Until then, do nothing, buy nothing.”
Roo rose and left, determined to sniff out some information on his own. Near sundown he discovered Duncan in an inn, in a corner, sitting quietly at a table with two oddly dressed men, mercenaries by their arms and armor. Duncan waved him over.
“Roo, these friends of mine have an interesting story.” Roo noticed that several tankards of ale had been consumed but that Duncan was as sober as the day he was born, and his ale was hardly touched.
Roo sat and introductions were made. The two mercenaries told Roo how they had been hired to guard a fast post rider who carried a message from the city of Shamata to a trader in Krondor regarding the purchase of a huge shipment of grain from down in Kesh. When he was finished, Roo rose. He threw a small pouch of gold on the table and said,
“Gentlemen, pay for your room, drinks, and dinner on me. Duncan, come along.”
He hurried back to Barret’s and found his three prince.qxd 9/4/02 10:38 AM Page 352
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partners almost alone in the upper gallery. He sat down and told them, “Someone is bringing a huge shipment of poor-quality grain to Krondor.”
“Are you certain?”
Crowley repeated his question of earlier that day.
“Why buy grain you can’t sell?”
Roo said, “Someone knows we’re writing contracts on options. Someone also knows that we must either pay the full price or forfeit the option price. So they bring grain into the city, enough to meet the contract demand, that we refuse to buy. They keep the contract money and dump the grain.”
“But they’ll lose money!” said Crowley.
“Not that much. But more than offset by the contract price. And if their purpose is to break us, not make a profit, they won’t care if they lose a small amount.”
Hume said, “That’s predatory.”
“Very predatory,” said Masterson, “and brilliant.”
“What do we do?” asked Hume.
Roo said, “Gentlemen, I have been a soldier, and now it’s time to test your resolve. Either we can stop buying, and count what we’ve contracted for so far as a loss, or we can seek to turn this to our advantage.
But it will take more gold than we have so far pledged to make this
work for us.”
“What do you propose?” said Masterson.
“We stop taking contracts. From this moment on, we say no and our counteroffers must be a margin of what is being offered—so low that no one will take our offers, but enough to let them know we are still in business.”
“Why?” said Crowley.
“Because each day a huge shipment of grain, prince.qxd 9/4/02 10:38 AM Page 353
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sixty wagons being provided by Jacoby and Sons, is working its way to Krondor.” He glanced at one of the offer sheets still on the table. “To be delivered at the docks in forty-nine days. Each day that passes, each day that goes without the buyer of that wheat having someone to sell it to, his concern will rise, for if that grain reaches Krondor before all of it is optioned, then that seller will have to dump it in the harbor. Eventually he will sell at our price, assuming that he will still break us.”
“How do we counter this?” said Hume.
“We buy every contract in Krondor, gentlemen. If by the time the wheat reaches the city we own every kernel of wheat between here and Ylith, then we can ship the high-quality grain to the Free Cities and the Far Coast, recoup our investment, and make our profit.”
“What do we do with the grain from Kesh?” said Masterson.
“We sell it to farmers for their stock, the army, whoever, as fodder. If we can merely break even on that grain, then the rest will make us wealthy beyond our ambition. Twenty-to-one, thirty-to-one—a hundred-to-one return on our investment.”
Masterson grabbed a pen and started scribbling.
He worked in silence for nearly ten minutes. “Given what we’ve seen so far, we need at least another two hundred thousand sovereigns. Gentlemen, we need to attract more partners. See to it.”
Crowley and Hume hurriedly left the table and Masterson said, “Roo, I hope you’re correct.”
“What price do we need to reach to make this a can’t-fail proposition?”
Jerome Masterson laughed. “If the grain was free, prince.qxd 9/4/02 10:38 AM Page 354
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I wouldn’t say it was ‘can’t fail.’ We need to store this grain, and if the shortage in the Free Cities doesn’t materialize, we may all be driving wagons for Jacoby and Sons before we’re done.”
“I’ll sail back to hell before that,” said Roo.
Masterson signaled a waiter and said, “Bring me my special cache of brandy and two glasses.” To Roo he said, “Now we wait.”
Roo drank the brandy, when it appeared and found it excellent.
Masterson looked at some of the pile of notes before him, and frowned.
“What is it?” asked Roo.
“This doesn’t make much sense. I think it’s a mistake. We’re being offered the same contract, basically, twice by the same group.” Then he nodded. “Ah, there it is. It’s easy to see why I made the mistake. It’s not the same group. It just looks like it.”
Roo turned his head, as if listening to something.
“What did you just say?”
“I said this group looks like that group,” he said, pointing to the two notes.
“Why?”
“Because, save for one investor, they’re identical.”
“Why would they do that?”
“Because they’re greedy?” suggested Masterson.
He sighed. “Sometimes people offer contracts they have no intention of fulfilling, if they suspect the other party is going to go broke. If they take our money now, and we go under, they’ll just shrug when the contract is due. Whom do they deliver to? they’ll say.” He shrugged. “It may be word is spreading we’re in trouble.”
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“Trouble,” repeated Roo. Then a thought occurred to him. After a while a plan formed in his mind. Suddenly he said, “Jerome, I have it!”
“What?” said Masterson.
“I know how we can not only turn this to our profit, but ruin those who are trying to ruin us.” He realized he was speaking over the top, and said, “Well, if not ruin them, certainly cause them pain.” Then he grinned. “But I do know how we’re going to make an obscene profit on this wheat business.” He looked Masterson in the eye. “Even if there is no shortage in the Free Cities.”
Masterson was suddenly very attentive. Roo said,
“I guarantee it.”
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14
Surprise
The rider reined in.
The farmers walking home from a long day tending their wheat were surprised as he turned his mount in their direction and approached. Without word they spread out and waited, for while it was peaceful times, the rider was obviously armed and one never knew what to expect of strangers.
The rider removed a large-brimmed hat, revealing himself to be a young man with curly brown hair. He smiled and it was also clear he was little more than a boy. “Greetings,” he called.
The farmers responded with salutations of their own, little more than grunts. They resumed walking, for these tired workingmen didn’t have time to spend in idle chatter with some bored noble’s son out for an evening ride.
“How goes the harvest?” asked the youth.
“Well,” answered one of the farmers.
“Have you set a price?” asked the rider.
At this all the farmers stopped walking again. The boy was talking about the two things that interested 356
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these men most in the world: wheat and money.
“Not yet,” said the farmer. “The brokers from Krondor and Ylith won’t be here for another two or three weeks.”
“How much do you want for your wheat?” asked the boy. Suddenly the farmers were silent, looking from one to another. Then one asked, “You look like no broker I’ve met. Are you a miller’s son?”
The young man laughed. “Hardly. My grandfather was a thief, if truth be told. My father . . . is in service to the Duke of Krondor.”
“What’s your interest?” asked another farmer.
“I represent a man who is seeking to buy wheat, but who is anxious to set a price now.”
That set the farmers to talking low among themselves. After a minute, the farmer who had first spoken said, “This is unusual. We’re not even sure of the yields yet.”
The boy looked from face to face. Finally he pointed to one man and said, “How long have you farmed this land?”
The man said, “My entire life. It was my father’s field before me.”
“Do you mean to say you don’t know to within a bushel how much grain that field will produce in a year like this?”
The man blushed and grinned. “Well, truth to tell, I can.”
“So can you all,” said the young man. “Here’s my offer: set us a price now, and you’ll be paid now. We’ll take delivery at harvest.”
The farmers looked amazed. “Get paid now?”
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asked one.
“Yes.”
Suddenly prices were being shouted so fast the rider couldn’t understand any. He said, “Enough!”
and held up his hand. He dismounted, held out his reins for a farmer, then pulled some writing instruments from his saddlebags.
The first farmer set a price for a thousand bushels of wheat and the rider nodded. He countered and the dickering was on. When they were done, he wrote down names on the parchment he had taken from his saddlebags. Next to each agreed-upon price and amount he had them make their marks, and then began to count out pieces of gold.
As the rider left, the farmers could not believe their luck. While the price wasn’t the best possible, it was fair, and they had the money now.
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As Dash rode north, he felt sore in his back and shoulders.
He had been to a dozen villages like this one over the last three days and knew that Duncan, Roo, and Luis were doing as he was. But he knew if he rode hard he could make the last village before Sarth just after sundown, which meant that after some dickering with the locals over wheat prices, he could pass along some messages to John Vinci for Roo, sleep a sound night in an inn, then return to Krondor in the morning.
He put heels to the flank of his mount and took her to a tired trot as the sun sank in the west.
As the week ended, four tired riders returned to Krondor and met at Roo’s warehouse. Dash grinned as he said, “If there’s a grain of wheat between here prince.qxd 9/4/02 10:38 AM Page 359
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and Sarth we don’t own, it’s in some horse’s nose-bag.”
Luis said, “The same for here to Land’s End.”
Duncan said, “I don’t know if I bought all the wheat between here and the Vale route, but I spent all the gold you gave me.” He handed his cousin his list of farms and prices.
Roo said, “I did the same from here to the foothills.” He looked at the accounts and said, “lf this doesn’t work, we may want to reconsider joining the King’s Army.”
Dash said, “I have other options.” With a grin, he added, “I hope.”
Roo said, “I have to get home and change. I’m dining with Jacob Estherbrook tonight.”
Dash and Duncan exchanged glances. Duncan’s face turned unreadable, while Dash just continued to grin. Jason asked, “Do you think Sylvia will be there?”
Roo smiled. “I’m counting on it.”
Luis’s brow furrowed at that, but he said nothing.
Roo left the shop and hurried home. He found Karli in the sitting room, rocking the baby and singing a tune to her. Roo halted and walked quietly into the room, seeing that the baby was sleeping.
Karli whispered, “She’s been fussy.” Roo kissed his wife on the cheek. “Did your plan go well?”
“We’ll know within a week.”
“I would love to hear about it over supper. She should sleep awhile.”
Roo blushed. “In all the frenzy, I neglected to tell you I’m dining out tonight. I am sorry.”