“I know a fair bit about the city, but only of its surface level. Small fry merchants such as I, and most of the other caravan members, are not privy to the inner workings of such a city.” Taking out a slice of dried jerky from his rucksack, the blacksmith gnawed on it as he spoke to them.
“Inner workings? What do you mean?”
“The city is a free city run by the… ‘merchant guilds.’ It’s just a precedent really. Such cities run by the merchants are a dime-a-dozen in the world of Yaribol. You can find such neutral cities everywhere you look.”
Harold heavily emphasized the words “merchant guilds”, and Mican even noticed a faint hint of disdain and hostility flashing through his eyes.
“Merchant guilds? I may be coming off as naïve here, but I don’t understand.” The young man shook his head.
“Oops, sorry about that Mican, I forgot that you weren’t a trader yourself.” The middle-aged man stretched out a piece of dried meat in apology.
“Oh, I know some of this! The merchant guilds are all phoney, right?” Poppy, eager to speak, butted into the conversation.
“No, Poppy… The merchant guilds are unions formed up of powerful and wealthy individual merchants that band together, ruling cities.” Her big sister corrected her before she could display further ignorance.
“You are indeed right, my fair lady. The merchant guilds are not a part of the conventional production, adventuring, or manufacturing guilds, but are instead merely upstarts who give themselves the title of guilds.”
“You don’t seem to like them very much Harold. Why?”
In response to the young man’s question, the blacksmith spat out a glob of spit to the side of the road.
“They are only able to rule the various towns and cities through the sheer power of wealth in numbers. They’re incapable of defending themselves and will topple over like a sandcastle on the beach if they were prodded just slightly by those who hold true power.” A slightly disgusted expression appeared on his face. “Besides, they don’t allow smaller merchants like us to survive, and we’d probably be forced to be working for them if we weren’t under the Boss’s wing.
“I see…” Mican truly did understand. This situation only proved to him of the law of this world, where the power of an individual could rule above all.
They were likely of the same people as those from the auction back in Gaspereau. Bidding for the scraps that would help them scrape out a living if a bad situation was ever truly sent their way, similar to a cockroach’s survival.
Only the A ranked adventurer Aubin, the truly powerful, could have the right to interact with Melinda on a deeper level, to purchase the items that would not only allow him to survive, but to thrive.
“It’s why the various merchant guilds deem their territories as neutral, as they have no true power in the world.”
“I don’t understand, how are such organizations able to survive? How were they even formed?” Directing his question at Harold, the young man voiced his doubts.
“Uhh, I may be an old merchant, but I wouldn’t call myself a veteran. Like I said, small time folk like us aren’t privy to the inner workings of such a city.”
“Is there anybody that would know more about these merchant run cities? I’m slightly curious about them.” Mican asked directly after a moment of hesitation.
The young man was not interested in the merchants or the cities themselves, but more of how they ran, and what brought such ruling classes about in the ‘world of Yaribol’.
There had never been such… organizations or whatever they were, back in Mican’s previous world. He couldn’t see how any government could allow such profit-based existences to survive, or to rule over entire cities.
“…”
The two sisters and the blacksmith looked between each other, expecting one or the other to have an answer for the man. Sarah looked up between the grown-ups curiously, listening intently to their conversation.
“Graham. Graham would know.” A cool voice sounded out from the front of the pack, being from the handsome man sitting in front of Primrose.
He stayed silent after that, merely watching the road ahead of him as he steered the horse carefully, his face cold and stern.
“Thank you big bro Emery. I’m off to grab Graham then!” Gently cracking the reins on her horse, Poppy held Sarah close to her as she rode off between the wagons.
“Poppy?! Wait!” The young lady’s elder sister called out to her in surprise at the unexpected development.
“Wh-“ Even Emery’s steely exterior was broken as he sighed in exasperation, clearly not expecting the young lady to be so decisive.
“Hahaha! She’s a real feisty one, she is.” Harold only laughed out loud in amusement, nudging Mican on the side. “I really didn’t expect her to go and get the old man.”
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“Old man? Wouldn’t you two be of the same age?”
“Despite looking like this, I’m only thirty-six you know. Graham is at least ten years older than me, at least!” Giving the young man some side-eye, Harold as well, sighed in exasperation. “I don’t expect him to say anything, though. I don’t expect him to even come, much less say anything. He’s a very reticent man, that one. He doesn’t even so much as glance at those he doesn’t trust.”
Mican nodded along in understanding. He had felt the man’s indifference before, when he had first joined the caravan.
After several moments of clopping along the trail, the loud sounds of clopping could be heard approaching them from the side of the road in front of them.
“Mican! I’ve got him right here!” The excited voice of Poppy called out to the young man, and her grinning face soon came into view.
Alongside Poppy rode an extremely large horse, burly and stout. Solid muscles lined the horse’s entire body, and he was much larger than the other horses in the vicinity. It was well-groomed, and clearly bred for a purpose much more physical than merely carrying luggage.
On the horse road a man surrounded by pieces cloth and other merchandise that had been strapped to the horse. He looked quite young, but the deep wrinkles on his face showed his age. Without them, he would look much younger than Harold.
He had a head of dark-blue hair, with permanent bags under his eyes. His face was clean-shaven and strict, and he was of a healthy build despite not being very tall.
“Graham?” Harold stared at the newcomer, exclaiming as his eyes widened in surprise.
“Hello there, Harold.” Greeting the blacksmith, he turned his eyes towards Mican. “Mican, I believe we haven’t been well introduced, which is my own fault. I am Graham Holemese, and it is a pleasure to meet you once again.”
“Hmm. Greetings, my name is Mican Aster.” Slightly surprised at the man’s politeness, Mican greeted him in turn.
The other members of the caravan stared in surprise as Graham nodded at Mican, acknowledging him and treating him with respect. It was clearly a scene not common to them. The man was evidently very interested in Mican.
“As I had mentioned earlier, can you tell Mister Mican more about Granberia city?” The two inspected each other for a little while before Poppy spoke out, breaking the silence.
“Well not exactly about the city, but more of its… fundamental system? I do know that it’s run by false guilds or merchant alliances, but not of much else. If you do know of such knowledge, do you mind sharing?”
“I know exactly of what you speak.” An approving nod and smile was sent Mican’s way from the man. “Poppy has already updated me as we waited, I don’t mind sharing what I know at all, don’t mind it.”
“Such a trade city isn’t rare at all, even bordering common. There are many of such neutral cities run by merchant guilds in the various provinces of Yaribol. They are able to run freely due to the power of their sheer wealth, and what it holds over the free trade cities in the provinces.”
“Do they just build cities out of nothing?”
“Yes, many do fund cities, but the majority simply infiltrate small autocratic, or aristocratic run cities, pushing out the faux royalty or nobles by merit of their overwhelming wealth. These ‘guilds’ are made up of very powerful merchants, who control the cities through their economy.” Graham explained the situation to Mican in an articulate way, straight to the core of the situation.
“These associations they form use their combined wealth to engage in trade battles with the various merchants who refuse to join them. These people lower their prices, taking the losses by sheer wealth until the other party is forced to leave the market, giving them monopoly. Along with an assortment of other fairly brutish methods.” A thoughtful expression appeared on the old man’s face. “No independent merchant can ever hope to compete with the wealth of the many combined. They are a bit like ants, so to speak.”
“This is very good information.” Mican nodded enthusiastically, absorbing the knowledge like a sponge.
“The small, less wealthy merchants who are forced to join the guild are often mistreated, forced to sell the products of the larger party in the market, giving them a large cut. It is essentially a nice way to put ‘working for someone’.” In response, Graham only smiled at him and continued on.
“So I assume these guilds aren’t the most morally upright.”
“Well, what merchant is? Not even Boss Melinda is that forgiving, hahaha.” The man chuckled. “There are extremely beneficial merits in joining their guilds, in physical support, and financial gain. The demerits though, you lose the freedom to trade on your own, and the chance for any monopoly of the market.”
Mican read in between the lines of Graham’s words, noticing that he neither criticized nor praised the merchants themselves, in terms of both technique and morality. He merely calmly stated the gains and losses in the joining them, and it intrigued Mican.
“How do you know all of this? Why would you tell us? You usually just ignore me when I talk to you.” Poppy spoke out in her light voice, a grumpy look on her face.
Mican was quite glad that the outspoken young lady was there, asking a question that he had refrained from, so as to not offend the old gentleman.
“I had been invited to many a guild, a long time ago.” Graham raised his eyebrow at the former question, directly ignoring the latter one. “It was a different time, from before I had even joined the caravan. The guilds ran their territories with experience, and ease. New sources of economy were introduced constantly, and the commoners were kept just poor enough to survive. It was not a pleasant time…”
“I wouldn’t be surprised if they still did it, as profitable as it sounds.” Harold spoke out between a piece of dried jerky, to which Graham didn’t disagree, merely nodding along in thought.
“Thank you for sharing, Graham, I appreciate it.” Mican spoke out, and Harold nodded along with his words, grateful himself as an aspiring merchant in the world.
From the merchant’s words, Mican could infer that he was quite a figure in the past as he had been “invited to many guilds” before.
Looking at his gently smiling face, Mican had the feeling that it was spoken on purpose, for Mican to know. What sort of situation could drive such a wealthy person into the caravan? Into the travelling life? Mican was quite curious but held back from asking.
As the members of the caravan continued to talk, the sharp chime of a bell rang out from in front of the caravan, signaling the members to stop.
“Well I suppose that’s it for today. It was my pleasure, Mican.” Giving a small yet elegant bow, Graham bid farewell from the group, steering his warhorse towards the center of the wagons. “Have a good night everybody”
“It’s already noon? Bye everybody, goodbye Sarah!” Giving a brief look around, Poppy hopped off her horse, lifting the little girl down before placing her gently onto the Ashleye family’s wagon. “Tell Duarte I said hi!”
With those parting words, the Hathwaye trio departed, Primrose giving Mican a small wave in farewell. The eldest brother, Emery, kept his face stoic throughout it all.
Steering the way towards their established campsite, Duarte joined the two in unpacking the bedrolls and setting up the tarp and fire, in an obviously great mood. Intrigued, he asked the young man to take him to listen to stories some time, to see if Everly would open up then.
After finishing their meal handed out by Beckett, Mican sat quietly by the fire, staring up at the sky, digesting his new information in deep thought.