“Half a dozen sapphires, if you would be so kind. And... wait,” Olidra unfolded a small piece of parchment and looked at it, “one ruby. And a bag of piercing crystals. That will be all, thank you.”
“Big buyer, I see.” The trader commented as his hand went over the various bags and boxes to remove the requested wares. “Don't they issue you this stuff at the school?” A glance at Olidra's robes had identified him as a teacher.
“Technically, they are supposed to. But I need them urgently and cannot jump through a dozen hoops to get the requisition approved,” he quickly fabricated, “bureaucracy, you know how it is, I'm sure. Next thing, they will be wanting written applications for new quills and precise documentation of bathroom breaks.” He laughed. The shopkeeper laughed with him, but it was more out of politeness. Olidra knew that he had been a self-employed merchant most of his life and knew nothing of bureaucracy.
“That will be two hundred sav'ihv and twenty vop'ihv.” The trader smiled, a well-restrained reflection of the jubilation in his mind. Even in this profitable season, when the new schoolyear began and all the students were buying supplies, Olidra had more than doubled the day's revenue.
Olidra was also smiling, but it was a pained grimace on his face. He counted out the sizable heap of gold and smaller heap of copper that the jewel trader had asked for, knowing as he handed it over that the better part of this month's savings had just passed over the counter. “I hope I can get the administration to reimburse me on that,” he joked. They would not, of course – Finances was every bit as strict about requisitions as he had just said, and unless “searching for and looking after expelled students” had been declared a legitimate expense, Olidra would have to foot this bill himself.
But there was a cheerful side as well – now that this purchase was out of the way, the rest of them taken together would not cost half as much. The price of gemstones these days is atrocious, he bitterly thought. It's not as if the things are hard to find or to mine, but because they are shiny and powerful, people act like they are worth their weight in gold. If this trend continues, jewellers will soon make more money than weaponsmiths! Which reminded him: He still needed a good blade and several ik'sal – small steel disks surrounded with razors, a throwing weapon.
An adventure once again, at last, Olidra relished the thought. Not to Mehdav, of course. The week's journey to the city was literally a walk in the woods – a straight, open road, no dangers apart possibly from wild animals, easily driven off.
But he had been thinking for a while to consider the alternatives. Where might Aidra have gone, if he was not staying at the nearby town, or if he had not reached it at all? The possibilities were varied, and several of them were quite dire. There were a few comforting ones: He might have stocked up in Mehdav and gone on to his way, possibly even to find another magical academy that would teach him again – rivalry between schools was rampant, and an able student cast out on a technicality might be accepted elsewhere. Olidra did his best to keep his mind off the worst options – surely Aidra would not have been so dense as to run off into the uncharted wilderness that lay northwest of here, with no supplies or equipment whatsoever, at this time of year!
But he had to prepare for the worst, and so he had decided to stock up with enough supplies for a month or two in the wilderness. If worst came to worst, the unnecessary supplies could be resold at a small loss, and the expensive gemstones were always useful to have.
He cast another glance at his list. The gemstones he had already crossed off, and there were four more points remaining. He would buy rations for two weeks – these would be impossible to resell, so he would rather not take much more than he was sure to need. Even this late in the year, one could forage for more supplies in the wilderness.
Next was a warm blanket. It's amazing how many people forget to get that on their first journey. Well, he wouldn't freeze. The final point on the list was a small number of alchemical herbs, useful for healing.
Did I miss anything? He went over the mental checklist of the seasoned (though out-of-practice) traveller: Food, shelter, healing, weapons, exploration. All taken care of, then.
-----
Getting the rest of the supplies was a lot cheaper, but it made up for it by being a lot more troublesome. The alchemist had been the first obstacle. The regular one was closed to business today, and Olidra had reluctantly gone to a street peddler. The man had a sleazy look about him, and constantly looked around with shifty eyes, scanning the street.
He grew more nervous at the sight of a teacher at the academy – and after a cursory look at the small wooden table where the enterprising trader had spread his produce, Olidra could plainly see why.
I've never seen so many imitations on so little a space. About half of these ingredients are common herbs and weeds superficially similar in appearance. The “mandrake root” was especially audacious. Burb root; a toddler could see that. Does he even care that if someone falls for the scam, they will be spewing bile for a week? He could kill someone with that stuff. A quick tip to the Guild of Alchemists would get this shifty fellow banned from selling any kind of plant, or even run out of town, but Olidra had no time. At least all the plants he wanted to buy seemed to be the real thing – apart from the graymold, but he could do without that.
“That will be seventeen gold pieces, sir,” the trader growled. Outrageous. Even the real plants aren't worth half of that.
And then another thought crossed his mind. I have some bargaining power, after all.
“Oh, and some graymold, please,” he added as if as an afterthought.
The trader lazily grabbed some of the dark gray, almost black lichen out of the tray and made a motion to fill it in one of the paper bags.
“Wait.” A gesture that nearly turned into a grapple hold on the man's arm stopped the filling process. “Could I take a closer look, please?”
“What do you want?” The peddler asked in an annoyed voice. “Buy or leave.”
“That graymold looks odd.” When the traders hand closed over the stuff he was holding, Olidra simply took the tray off the table and held it under his eyes, then sniffed. Common mildew, no doubts about it. “What are you--” the trader made to snatch back the tray.
“You call this graymold?” Olidra put on a strict face. “Where did you pick this? Are you just plainly incompetent, or a crook?”
“Look, sir, there is nothing wrong with this graymold. The color can vary, you know that.”
“It can. The smell, however, cannot. I know the smell of graymold, and this is not it. But if you insist...” he shrugged, and casually pocketed the tray, “I am sure the Guild will have a thing or two to say when I show them this.”
The trader's face took on the color of ash. “You would not...”
“Oh, I certainly would. If there is one thing I cannot stand, it is swindlers like you defrauding the apprentices. You lot should be kicked out, with your fake and overpriced herbs.” Real subtle, yes.
The man licked his lips, desperately looking for a way out of the situation. “I... I will give you a rebate. The other herbs are real.”
“I can see that. Do you honestly think you could escape justice by bribing me with a small discount, good man?” Olidra drew himself up to full height. I'm no better than a crook for blackmailing him like this, he selfconsciously realized, but it's what he deserves, and I can have some fun. He grinned a shark's smile.
“Take... take them,” the trader almost whispered. “On the house.” Olidra beamed. As a show of good will, the tray with the “graymold” was positioned back on the table, and he was off. I don't think I've ever haggled more effectively, he grinned in satisfaction as he walked down the street, although I should watch my back for a while now. The trader had looked at him with a stare like daggers.
-----
The other supplies had been no less difficult to acquire, but far less satisfying.
How could I have known that a simple woollen blanket would be so hard to find? Olidra wondered in frustration. He had had to ask in three different shops before he fnally found what he was looking for.
At least this was the final stop, he thought in relief as he paid for the blanket. The weapons had been easy, but the food had been unexpectedly tricky.
“Taking a journey?” the middle-aged, matronly Vahnatai had asked when he asked for the rations. Olidra had shaken his head at first, but then reluctantly nodded in admission, which triggered another barrage of questions. “Oooh, where to?” had been answered tersely with “Mehdav.” Olidra had paid and hoped that the conversation was over now, but in fact it had only started. By the time he had managed to leave the store, he had been introduced to all second and third degree relations she had in and within a day's ride of Mehdav, and promised to give her regards to all of them. Finally, he had muttered a parting and fled.
That's the supplies taken care of, he concluded as he got back home. A good thing, too – it was already beginning to get late, and the winter sun would set in another hour or two. Only one thing remained to do: Taking out a quill, he wrote up a short note that would be delivered to his colleage Tamin later tonight.
Tamin, s'ka kal!
I apologize for this inconvenience on short notice, but I urgently have to leave town for at least two weeks, possibly more. You are the only one I can think of right now of who could teach the Carving classes for the first year students without much preparation.
If you could do this for me, I'll owe you a big favour. Thank you and, again, I am deeply sorry for troubling you with this. I will try to be back as soon as possible.
Regards,
Olidra
