Weissenburg's harbor was unlike those elsewhere. Its moat wound around the city like a centipede: the river was its body, and on either bank were docks deep enough to berth two ships, like rows of legs stretching from either side. Colorful flags hung along the riverbank to mark the different districts.
Ships traveling along the Swabian Rezat River could sail straight into the moat. There, they would see an enormous wooden sign as tall as the city wall, with half-human-height lettering telling them which port district to unload each kind of cargo in.
A cargo ship laden with chickpeas and salt was about to pull up to a dock in the blue district. Its three passengers were also getting ready to disembark.
Armand, who had come from the Kingdom of Gaul, said to his two attendants, "The current lord of Wessen Territory is Baron Frederick von Weissen, who's only eight years old. Things in the territory are probably a mess. Be careful. Don't be afraid of trouble, but don't go looking for it either."
The red-haired, portly man and the short blond man behind him immediately agreed.
The cargo ship soon reached the dock. As soon as the gangplank was laid down, tax officials boarded to inspect the cargo. The middleman known as Nine-Eight Man waited on shore with the dockworkers' foreman, ready to discuss business with the captain once he came ashore.
Armand wasn't in a hurry to disembark. He followed the cargo owner and the captain, wanting to see what the taxes were like here.
It was the cargo owner's first time doing business in Weissenburg. He already had a few silver coins in his pocket, ready to perform a little magic if necessary and make them appear in a tax official's pocket.
As long as the tax official undercounted the goods a little, the cargo owner could share some of the tax savings with him and still come out ahead.
The tax official boarded and saw that the cargo consisted entirely of chickpeas and salt. He pulled a sheet of parchment from his satchel and handed it to the cargo owner, smiling as he said, "All grain, salt, and oil entering Wessen Territory are currently tax-free. You just need to go through the formalities."
The cargo owner's face lit up with a brilliant smile. The tax he'd be saving was no small sum. He promptly filled out the form.
From the gesture the tax official made when he stepped off the ship, the middleman waiting below knew what it was carrying. By the time he boarded, he had already taken several forms from his satchel.
Armand and the cargo owner examined the forms. They listed the local merchants' association's purchase price for chickpeas, along with warehouse rent and handling fees. Even Nine-Eight Man's two-percent commission was clearly stated.
Salt was simpler: it was sold exclusively by the Weissen Family.
Prices for bulk goods were set through negotiations among the local merchants' associations, so they were all the same. However, each association had its own specialty and offered discounts on its main products.
The cargo owner was very interested in Weissen Syrup and kept asking Nine-Eight Man about it. Armand, meanwhile, was astonished that Steel Ingots were so cheap—only sixty percent of the price in the Kingdom of Gaul.
Armand also sensed that something was off, but couldn't immediately put his finger on it.
The cargo owner decided to buy a batch of Weissen Syrup to take home. Just then, Nine-Eight Man took out another form and said, "I suggest you first find a mill to grind the beans into flour, then exchange that for syrup. You'll get more that way."
"A big customer came up from the south recently, and there's no syrup in stock for the next couple of days. You can take the mill contract with me to the Yelena Trading Company. I have a little pull there, so I can get you in the queue. By the time the beans have been ground, it'll be your turn. Flour for syrup, right on the spot."
The cargo owner thought it over. This would save him the cost of renting a warehouse and moving the goods multiple times, so he was about to agree.
Just then, Armand coughed softly twice.
The cargo owner immediately repeated the story they had agreed on in advance. "This is the young master of our family. He's traveling with us this time."
Nine-Eight Man's eyes lit up. When he'd first seen Armand, he'd assumed the young man was some kind of accountant. He hadn't realized he was someone important.
Taking another look, he realized he'd misjudged the young man. Though he was in his early twenties, plain-looking, and dressed in ordinary clothes, a scholarly air was impossible to conceal. He looked just like the scholars who had arrived in Wessen Territory not long ago.
"Pleased to meet you!" He immediately took out a wooden card and offered it with both hands. "In Wessen Territory, you can get discounts at any tavern or inn displaying this mark."
Armand took the card and examined it. It was about the size of his palm and had been polished smooth. The writing and design had been burned into the wood. The front showed a hand giving a thumbs-up; on the back, it read, "Welcome to Wessen Territory. Here, you'll feel right at home." A string of numbers was printed in the lower-right corner.
The young man still didn't know how many tricks Wessen Territory had up its sleeve. When traveling, saving money wherever possible was always a good idea, so he happily tucked the card away.
Armand asked Nine-Eight Man, "Why are the milling fees so low? And why do you store the grain for free for two days? Is there some catch we don't know about?"
He had never run a business, but there were mills on his family's own lands. He was also a top graduate of a military academy and another college. After calculating the exchange rates, he had realized that the milling fee listed on the form was only half the usual price.
Nine-Eight Man hurriedly shook his head. "No, no! There's absolutely no catch!"
"Ever since Young Master took over, he's established laws requiring prices to be posted clearly. You can negotiate if you don't like a price, but anyone who charges for something that isn't on the price list gets hit with a hefty fine!"
Armand's heart stirred, and his opinion of Frederick shifted a little. Perhaps he has some capable people advising him.
But that still didn't explain why milling was so cheap here.
"With Young Master around, isn't it only natural that our waterwheels are so powerful?" Nine-Eight Man said matter-of-factly.
Bearings weren't a secret to the people of Weissenburg, but ordinary folk had limited ability to explain or understand them. After the story passed from person to person a few times, all anyone knew was that Young Master and the scholars who had come to serve him had made something incredibly impressive.
Armand decided not to pay Frederick a visit just yet. His instincts told him to look around first.
If milling was cheap, then so much the better. No one was going to turn down a chance to save money.
The cargo ship began unloading its goods.
The dockworkers' foreman came aboard, took a look at the cargo, and immediately quoted a price. Once the cargo owner agreed, he began assigning workers.
Standing at the bow with his two attendants, Armand watched the dockworkers unload materials from a wagon on shore and assemble a human-powered crane. Then they began unloading the cargo.
After a while, the cargo owner suddenly called out to the dockworkers, "That's enough, that's enough! Don't get greedy. Make another couple of trips. Don't drop my salt!"
The salt on his ship was all packed in wine barrels. He'd heard that containers like wine barrels were in high demand in Wessen Territory, so he could sell the barrels after selling the salt.
Now, a whole wagonload of salt was piled up, with the wooden barrels stacked two layers high. They hadn't even loaded that much onto the ship.
If a wagon was overloaded, the horse might not be able to pull it. If the driver tried to force it, the cargo could end up falling off.
The driver glanced back at the load and said, "It's fine. It's not much. The horse can handle it."
Nine-Eight Man said with a hint of pride, "Don't worry. Thanks to Young Master, our wagons can carry more than wagons elsewhere!"
Armand frowned, realizing what had been bothering him.
Not only was milling cheap here, but the transportation fees were suspiciously low, too.
If the wagons here could carry more than those elsewhere, that would explain it. But what was the secret behind their increased carrying capacity?
Armand couldn't figure it out. He'd have to crawl under a wagon to find out.
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