Passages

by Olan Thorensen

  Mark was relieved when, just before sundown, they found Ulwyn’s relative’s house near the crest of a hill a half-mile north of the plaza. The elevation provided partial relief from the smells. Argah proved to be a more urbane version of Ulwyn. After a meal, the two cousins relived family history and exchanged news while Mark walked the hill’s streets for an hour before returning to sleep.

  The next morning, Ulwyn, Argah, and Mark met to plan Kaledon’s safety pin campaign. Mark had decided to give Ulwyn a small share of the safety pin project. At Ulwyn’s suggestion, he also made Argah a minor partner. Before they returned to Kaledon, the jeweler had organized a spread-the-word campaign to precede whatever market day was settled on once the pins were produced. The cousin became a fervent convert after seeing the pins work and hearing of the Tregallon success. He was less optimistic about the leaf springs.

  “Oh, I don’t doubt people will like them, but I agree with Ulwyn that people using streets in the main part of Kaledon might not think the smoother ride worth the cost. Of course, it’ll be different for those living farther out in the countryside where the roads aren’t good.

  “Then there’re the guilds. The blacksmith guild is not among the larger and more powerful in Kaledon, but neither are they too small to ignore. Your contact will know more. You said his name was Stillum?”

  Mark found the man later that afternoon.

  After reading Hamston’s letter and experiencing the leaf springs’ performance in the Hovey wagon, Stillum said, “I don’t know. The blacksmith guild isn’t as strict as others, such as the weavers’ or carpenters’, but it’s probably because there are so few changes to the basic methods. However, it’s not the blacksmith guild you should worry about the most—it’s the wagon-maker guild. They aren’t that big or influential, but your ‘springs’ might be seen as a direct attack on the guild’s members.”

  “But surely they couldn’t resist customers wanting the springs on their wagons,” protested Mark.

  “Think of it from their point of view,” said Stillum. “If the springs mean wagons cost more, then a wagon maker will sell fewer wagons. If he keeps the wagon price the same as it was before he added springs, then he makes less for every wagon sold. Where’s the incentive for him?”

  “So, you’re saying I shouldn’t bother?” asked Mark.

  “No, only that you should be aware of the problems. To avoid having the wagon makers feel threatened, you might consider going right to the guild after you get support from a few of the more prominent wagon makers. They could make the argument that wealthier customers would pay extra for comfort and status. This would inevitably mean bribing some guild members or making them additional partners.”

  Mark left discouraged. He told Stillum he’d think over what he’d heard, but one thing was clear. His original assumption that the springs would be a significant coin generator was succumbing to reality.

  “I confess I was too optimistic,” Mark later told Ulwyn. “I just imagined every wagon owner would want the springs. It never occurred to me there might be forces pushing against this innovation or that wagon owners wouldn’t be as enthusiastic as I thought.”

  “What are you going to do?” asked Ulwyn.

  “I’ll think about what I heard today and will talk again with Stillum. He said he was willing to make any number of springs I wanted, but he would do it only after being paid for each spring. He said he couldn’t risk making large numbers that might not be sold. I can see it from his point of view. As I said, this will take some thought, but I suspect I’ll have to take his advice and go to wagon makers and their guild.”

  Mark sighed dejectedly, then gave a rueful laugh. “I suppose it’s a good lesson. I was so sure my brilliant idea with the springs would be successful. Maybe I should have known better than to trust my gut. At one point, I thought the safety pins were the least important of my two projects, and they turned out to be the most successful.”

  Four days later, Mark and Ulwyn left Kaledon with a re-supply of brass. Argah would arrange details for the campaign once Ulwyn wrote him a cryptic letter signaling when he and Mark would return with 200,000 pins.

  An agreement was agreed to with the wagon-makers guild. Stillum would make a hundred leaf springs, pre-paid by Mark. Stillum would supply them to wagon-maker guild members initially for wealthier customers, with Mark getting an agreed-on amount for each leaf spring sold. Two springs would be used for wagons where only the driver’s box was to absorb shocks, four more springs where the wagon bed would also be cushioned from jolts.

  Half an hour from what seemed like the outer edges of Kaledon, they passed through a section of forest. Mark was looking up, watching a V-shaped flight of a flock of black-and-white murvors, when Ulwyn muttered, “Uh-oh.”

  Marked looked down, then ahead to where Ulwyn stared. Three men with muskets were standing alongside the road, their horses tied to trees twenty yards into the woods.

  “I don’t like this,” said Ulwyn. “There’s no place to turn around, and they’d catch us even if we did.”

  “You figure they plan to rob us?” asked Mark, his gut tightening.

  “Well, they don’t look like they’re out here for a pleasure ride, although it’s possible they’re hunters.”

  Mark reached down and picked up the two pistols, laid one on Ulwyn’s lap, and put the other in his own belt. He leaned the musket where the three men could see Ulwyn snatch it, and he held the blunderbuss pointing forward in his lap.

  “Keeping the weapons hidden was to avoid giving the impression we had something worth stealing,” said Mark. He kept an eye on the men, as he arranged the firearms. “These men might already have made that evaluation, so we might as well try to warn them off.”

  One of the three men stiffened when Mark picked up the pistols, then he said something to the others after they saw the blunderbuss. Mark did his best to project a “death stare” like he’d seen in movies, keeping eye contact on the one he thought was the leader. None of the three men said anything as the wagon approached, then rolled on past. Mark turned his head, then his shoulders and body to watch until they were fifty yards past.

  “Well, maybe they were only hunters, but we should camp well off the road the next few nights and take turns keeping watch. What do you think, Ulwyn? If they intended to rob us, how would they know we had anything worth the effort?”

  “I can’t be sure,” said Ulwyn. “Could be just random chance, but I suppose it could be the guilds. Or maybe one of the wagon makers you’re working with decided to eliminate your involvement and not share the profits.”

  They never saw the three men again. The trip back to Tregallon continued at a slow pace due to the wagon being filled with trade goods Ulwyn had purchased and a thousand pounds of brass rods and sheets.

  Ulwyn continued giving Mark Suvalu lessons, and by the time they returned to Tregallon, Mark had mastered most of what the elderly trader knew of the trade language. Two sixdays after leaving Kaledon, they crested a rise and saw Tregallon’s outline two miles ahead.

  The trip back gave Mark time to mull over where he thought he’d made mistakes he could correct with future innovations. The spring experience didn’t dissuade him from believing that certain lucrative innovations would also be major advances in Frangel technology. In the future, he needed to undertake more exhaustive planning.

  CHAPTER 10

  RETURN TO KALEDON

  Wiflow ran out of the jeweler’s shop when Ulwyn stopped the wagon in front. “God’s Mercy, Kaldwel, you’re back just in time. Production is going better than I expected. We would have been out of wire within two days.”

  Tomtun and two workers were moments behind Wiflow, and all hands began unloading the new brass supply.

  “If we work into the evening and most of tomorrow, we should make enough wire to keep production at its peak,” said Wiflow. “I’ve hired more workers, including six women, and while their output is not as much as experienced workers, it adds up. I think w
e’ll have enough pins for the Kaledon ‘campaign,’ as you phrase it, in a month.”

  When the unloading was finished, Ulwyn bid them goodbye. “I’m heading home, Mark. Every bone is aching from the wagon ride, even with the springs. I want see to Gwanel, then soak myself for an hour and lie in my own bed—I expect to sleep until tomorrow morning.”

  Mark wouldn’t have minded a bath and bed either, but he wanted to spend some time with Wiflow to view the results of the last month’s production and plan for the next month. His desire was to be unfulfilled.

  “No time to meet today, Kaldwel. I’ve got to help turn the new brass stocks into wire. If you want to see the pins, they’re in crates out back. We added a crude storage area to the rear of the shop. As for planning, there’ll be time to talk in a day or two.”

  “How many pins do we have ready for Kaledon right now?” asked Mark.

  “Maybe a quarter of the total we talked about, but don’t worry. As the new people get better, the rate of production will increase enough that I’m sure one month will suffice. Then, when those pins are headed for Kaledon, we’ll continue making them for Brawsea.”

  The next month once again tried Mark’s patience. He never ceased worrying that word of the safety pins had reached Kaledon, and they would arrive with wagons of pins only to find a market already satisfied by local craftsmen. For four days after their return, he hung around Wiflow’s pin operation, now housed in a previously empty building not far from the shop. The jeweler had listened to Mark’s explanation of the advantages of an “assembly line” and adapted some of the methods. Instead of each worker doing all the steps in making a pin, men and women worked in linearly positioned teams, each member performing one of the series of simple tasks needed to make a finished pin.

  “I admit I was skeptical,” said Wiflow, “especially about rotating the workers to different tasks. I thought they’d be most productive with each of them doing all the steps, but you were right. Now, we trade steps every two hours. While there’s no difference in production at the start of the workday, it’s clear that by mid-afternoon almost as many pins are being produced as during the first hour, instead of slowly going down. There are also fewer faulty pins. If there was a bigger market for jewelry, I’d consider using the same techniques at least for the smaller, simpler pieces.”

  Satisfied that production was under Wiflow’s control and with nothing immediate to contribute, Mark spent the rest of the next month working with Hamston again. He used part of the time deciding on a third innovation to follow the safety pins and the leaf springs—an innovation that would use the profits from the first two introductions. He came to a decision but delayed sharing it, yet. In addition, the third innovation would require coin—far more than Mark had.

  Finally, a month passed. Pin production was proceeding, but Mark and Wiflow agreed it was time to head back to Kaledon. Letters passed via messenger with Argah and Stillum. Preparations were complete for the safety pin campaign in Kaledon—they just needed a specific projected date and the pins themselves. Stillum also reported having enough springs for their introduction.

  A neighbor of the Hoveys was respected as a weather forecaster and predicted a storm would hit by noon. A shallow but wide stream fifteen miles west of Tregallon was known to turn into a torrent during and after heavy rains and could close the road for days, so their party left two hours before sunrise. Mark had taken lessons and turns driving a wagon during the previous trip to Kaledon, so he drove the lead wagon with Wiflow as a passenger. Tomtun rode in the second wagon, along with Tolyn Elston, who drove the wagon and served as a guard. Mark had worked with Elston in Haral’s crew, and they’d kept in casual contact

  They beat the storm to the stream and made an early camp a mile on the other side. The rest of the trip was uneventful. When they passed the turnoff to God’s Tears, Mark noted the landmark in passing. He had no more interest in the detour than he’d had the first trip, though he mentioned to Wiflow the oddity Ulwyn had described.

  “God’s Tears?” said the jeweler. “Yeah, I’ve heard of them but never seen one. All my interest in crystals has involved the lordlyn for my products. You say one of the tears is not far down this side road? Maybe on the way back we can stop if you’re interested, but I don’t feel the need.”

  The campaign rollout came three days after they arrived in Kaledon.

  The group went over all the preparations for the last time, and Wiflow said, “Okay, then we’re set. Argah, you’ve done wonders getting everything ready.”

  The Kaledon metal worker laughed. “Now I hope it all works out like we think it will. I know I’ve put in a good bit of coin—finding and preparing space in four different plazas for market day. I was worried you Tregallon people would object to me taking the initiative.”

  “No, you did right,” said Mark. “In Tregallon we almost sold out the first day, but that was with a far smaller market plaza and only a fraction of Kaledon’s population.”

  Mark didn’t confess he’d considered selling at multiple locations but dismissed the idea as too complex to coordinate. For once, he was glad to be proved too conservative. Each of the three principals from Tregallon—Mark, Wiflow, and Tomtun—manned stalls with one of Argah’s workers while Argah was at a stall in the fourth plaza. Instead of the first word being relayed by family women, Argah had hired a group of ten- to twelve-year-old girls to demonstrate how to use the pins. The day prior to market day, the girls had raced around Kaledon distributing single pins to random women. The result was reminiscent of what had happened in Tregallon, only on a larger scale. The rented stalls were twice the size of Tregallon’s, and the two men assigned to a stall in each plaza were assisted by a sales assistant and a guard.

  “I need a beer,” said Mark, after the market where he was stationed closed with a sound reminiscent of a foghorn. He looked at the partly full crates and estimated they’d sold over half of the pins—to his initial disappointment. When the four teams gathered at Argah’s house that evening, the total of pins sold rose to almost 60 percent. Mark’s beer had to wait until they deposited bags of coin with a money-dealer Argah trusted.

  They were on their third round of beers at a small pub when Mark asked for an assessment from Wiflow and Argah.

  “Better than I’d feared,” said Wiflow, “but not as good as I’d hoped. Argah, we could continue selling during the week out of your shop and finish next market day. However, I’m wondering if us Tregallon people need to stay, or can you handle it from here?”

  Argah shrugged. “I’m sure we can, but how do I get you your share after selling the rest?”

  “If you’re convinced the other pins will sell, can we simply take our share of coin for the total pins, and you keep all the coin by selling the remainder after we’re gone?”

  Argah eyed Wiflow, one eyebrow raised. “What about the future? I’ll admit I think the rest of the pins will sell, but there’s bound to be continuing demand. Of course, other shops will begin making them—I’d be surprised if some aren’t already starting. I’ve had a couple of my workers making pins just to find out how difficult it is.”

  Wiflow shrugged and smiled. “We’ve assumed that both of those things would happen. Mark and I have talked it over. We’ll agree to let you claim to be the only true seller of ‘Tregallon safety pins.’ That should count for something until more sellers and people realize our pins aren’t better than at least some others. I expect that will happen within a few months. We’ll agree not to bring more pins to Kaledon as long as we get a one-fifth share of any pins you sell for the next year.”

  Arguing and bargaining went on for most of an hour, and the final agreement was as proposed by Wiflow.

  “Too bad there aren’t patents in Frangel,” said Mark after they left Argah. “That would have kept other producers away, so we could control the market.

  “Maybe,” said Wiflow, “but this is a good deal. A year from now we’d be only selling as many safety pins as any one of sco
res of shops and craftsmen. We have to be satisfied with what we’re getting. Now we have to focus on Brawsea.”

  Wiflow paused and tugged at his beard as he gave Mark a smile. “You may be changing my thinking, Kaldwel. I find myself having grandiose plans that never would have occurred to me. What if we didn’t stop after Brawsea? That was our original thinking . . . saturate a demand before other shops jump in. Then we’d scale back to a lower level of production like all other sellers.

  “But what if we went to Landylbury next? It’s about the size of Kaledon, smaller than Brawsea. Maybe Baernton, the capital of Novaryn? I wouldn’t try to do anything in Madyrna, but maybe we could strike deals with Fuomon and Harrasedic traders? We’d have to cut them in on a big share, but maybe we could convince them to do your ‘blitz campaigns’ in their lands the same as here.”

  Mark was taken aback by Wilflow’s surge of enthusiasm. “Well . . . that’s something we can talk about, but let’s focus next on Brawsea. If that goes well, we can always decide whether to try elsewhere.”

  The irony wasn’t lost on Mark. For once, it was he who was cautious and the jeweler optimistic, instead of the reverse. Although Wiflow’s idea had merit, Mark was eager to move on to innovations where he had more control over markets and potential competitors.

  Early the next morning, Mark made a final visit to check with Stillum on sales of leaf springs. The pin rollout had consumed most of Mark’s time. He’d only checked once with Stillum after arriving in Kaledon.

  “I listened when you explained your plans for selling,” said Stillum, “but I didn’t see how it would work the same with the springs. So, what I’ve done the last month is give rides to potential customers on wagons and carriages with the springs, but with coverings preventing anyone from actually seeing them. They only knew I’ve managed to find a way to make the ride easier. Even without ever seeing a spring, most people I demonstrated them to paid half of the cost to reserve a place in our work schedule.