"What a disgusting place!"
As he stepped out of his cabin, Merchant Miller was hit by the strong smell of rotting wood. The air was humid and oppressive, causing him considerable discomfort. He raised his head and inhaled deeply. The sky was completely overcast, and it looked as though heavy rain was approaching.
"The last time you came here was a year ago," the merchant's assistant said as he gently placed a woolen coat over his shoulders. "There's nothing here except stone and iron."
"It was a year and a half ago," Miller corrected him. "Each season, the guild chose a different person to come here. The last time I was in Graymont was during the summer. But besides the ore, they have more to offer, such as a good variety of furs, and…"
"What?" His assistant looked confused.
Miller shook his head and said nothing. He crossed the gangplank, stepped onto the moss-covered dock, and heard a plank creak beneath his feet. The wood would probably hold for a few more years, he thought, but after that, it would collapse. The place had more than just stone and furs. It also had… opportunities.
But there was no point in discussing this. His assistant was only a novice merchant, incapable of understanding.
Wars would soon begin breaking out across the Border Princes, and Graymont, despite its remote location, would not be an exception. Rumors suggested that it might eventually fall into the hands of House Gastonne or the Khypris Empire to the south. And it was obvious that a declining house like Lusignan, which barely possessed the title of baron without a kingdom to support it, would have no chance.
War was simply a lucrative business for those who knew how to recognize the opportunity. Miller expected hundreds, if not thousands, of people to be captured and deprived of their freedom, eventually becoming slaves.
The only inconvenience was that the war was still on hold due to reports of more active greenskin tribes throughout the territory. Everyone knew it would be foolish to fight among themselves while creatures were waiting to ravage them. Besides, purchasing slaves required large sums of money upfront.
Unfortunately, when it came to foresight in matters of investment, most of the nobility was terrible at business. The guild was also afraid of angering the Empire of Man, which had banned slavery.
Miller and his father were part of a merchant guild whose investors included nobles from the region. Although they were hundreds of kilometers away from the Empire of Man, its influence was so great that no one wanted to cause trouble with it.
"Hey, how is it possible that the yard is empty?" The assistant pointed toward a distant plot of land. "Isn't that where they leave the ore and tools for purchase?"
Miller sighed softly. "We'll go to the castle and request an audience with the baron."
"Wait… Sir, do you know if he'll receive us?"
He did not know whether the baron would receive them or not, but he knew the territory's economic situation was poor, judging by the rumors that the baron had sold large quantities of artwork a few weeks earlier.
"Come on. The stables are right across from here."
The city was still the same as the last time he had visited. Everything seemed normal, except for a building that had appeared out of nowhere within his view. If it had been just a building, it would not have attracted his attention. What caught his eye was the crowd surrounding it and the amount of ore piled near its entrance. This story is hosted at g.com.
"Hey, what's happening here?" Miller asked a man standing among the crowd.
"You must be a foreigner, because this has been the biggest news in the city for the past few days."
A dockworker who had been taking a break was the one who answered him.
"The new baron built this iron factory—or that's what he calls it. It's a large forge that brings together all the blacksmiths in the city to work for him. From time to time, he also gathers curious people to watch how it operates."
Miller was surprised by the news. It was an incredible idea, but an impossible one to carry out. Blacksmiths were valued and proud craftsmen. They would never agree to work together in one place, revealing their secrets to one another.
"He did it thanks to the new furnace he developed. I don't know how it works, but they say he enchanted them with magic, and now they can turn all that low-quality ore into durable iron."
The man noticed the disbelief on Miller's face and guessed the questions running through his mind. He had already answered the same questions for several other people.
"All the blacksmiths had no choice but to accept if they didn't want to lose their jobs."
Miller handed him a few coins and asked several more questions. Once he had learned everything the man knew, he walked away and returned to his assistant.
This was a serious problem for all his plans. Edmund Lusignan, the new baron, had begun controlling his own lands, his mines, and his trade routes.
The guild had enjoyed this commercial opportunity for decades, and Miller himself had taken out substantial loans for his plans, using the ore he intended to purchase as collateral.
Miller seemed to have forgotten that they did not control the river. The shipments could travel downstream to other settlements, where Edmund would find buyers willing to pay more reasonable prices. He could even use those routes to raise the status of his house.
He only needed to follow the course of the river.
What could the noble families that had invested in his guild do, then? Block the passage of the ships and isolate the baron and his men?
That would be a direct provocation against House Lusignan and a violation of the rights of an independent territorial lord. It would not only give the others an excuse to initiate a diplomatic conflict, but would also ruin their diplomatic reputation. Although Edmund was still a minor noble and lacked a large military force, openly attacking him would not be a prudent decision.
After all, the Border Princes had their rules. Otherwise, it would be a lawless place where no one could live.
Miller continued slowly along the stone road that followed the course of the river, thinking about how all his plans were falling apart, with his assistant beside him. They were both riding rented horses, old animals of different colors that seemed to tremble even while walking.
And for those two miserable animals, he had still been required to pay a deposit of two gold coins.
"Look, sir! Is that a ship?" The source of this chapter is g.com.
At his assistant's shout, Miller raised his head and followed the direction of his finger.
Some distance away, a ship was sailing slowly downstream. A banner bearing the emblem of a hummingbird fluttered from its single mast. The ship's waterline was quite high, indicating that it was carrying a considerable cargo.
The Light Flight Guild—a direct rival to Miller's guild, which specialized in trading food and weapons.
Miller nodded, but felt his stomach tighten.
The baron was acting faster than he had expected. If Edmund had already begun making contact with other guilds, their bargaining power would be considerably reduced.
His original plan had been to acquire Graymont's minerals at a price approximately thirty percent below market value. That way, the participating families could still make a profit after covering transportation and processing costs.
The ore was of poor quality, but the territory produced so much of it that it was useful for manufacturing basic tools. Moreover, the worker had shown him some of the pieces on display inside the factory, and they were far better than anything he had seen anywhere in the Border Princes.
He hoped the reports were merely rumors. But if it turned out to be true that the furnaces were enchanted with magic and everything they produced possessed that level of quality, then Graymont's importance was far greater than anyone had expected.
The problem was that they no longer had a monopoly. With the death of the former baron, their contract had ended, and they had neglected their information network in the area. They feared that another guild or settlement had taken advantage of their negligence.
The problem was that several merchant families had invested in their operations for years, and none of them could make important decisions without the consent of the others.
If they could not convince the majority, they could forget about any business opportunity in this place.
However, they had taken too long to react. Many of them—including Miller himself—had believed that the situation would remain the same even if the lord changed. Graymont would produce minerals, the guild would buy them at low prices, and the frontier territory would continue depending on its neighbors for food and manufactured goods.
Miller watched the ship disappear into the distance.
Could they still obtain the monopoly they had planned for?
Probably not. Perhaps it was already impossible.
When he saw that Graymont's dock was not empty and that Edmund seemed willing to trade with other cities, Miller understood that the baron had no intention of exchanging his minerals for poor-quality wheat merely to keep the guild's local merchants and nobles satisfied.
Miller tightened his grip on the reins.
The real problem was his father.
The other families seemed willing to let Graymont sink rather than accept less favorable terms. But if Miller managed to sign a contract directly with Edmund—not through the guild, but through his own family—would his father be willing to support him?