Two days passed in the blink of an eye. Thomas and his party had been away from the castle for two days.
At daybreak, they finally arrived at the territory of the first neighbor within the Tulip Territory: Black Rock Territory.
Black Rock Territory was a barony, famous for its abundant black stone. Though it was rather remote, it wasn't as destitute as Storm Territory. After all, north of Black Rock Territory, the land belonged entirely to nobles.
As the party entered Black Rock Town, the townspeople curiously watched the caravan.
Caravans usually came from the north or west, but this one had come from the south, where only the Land of Misfortune lay.
Clip-clop, clip-clop!
The castle nearby had also spotted the fully armed party entering town. Baron Boris personally hurried over with a squad of thirty guards.
"Who are you?" Baron Boris scrutinized the party before him.
"Honored Baron Boris, we're a merchant caravan from Storm Territory. Our master, Sir Nalant, has sent us to sell local products in your territory!" As Nalant's steward, Thomas represented his master's dignity whenever he was away from home.
His tone was respectful, yet neither servile nor arrogant.
"Storm Territory?" Baron Boris was taken aback, then seemed to recall something. "Right, I remember a group passed through here some time ago on its way there. Is your lord one of the knights appointed by the count? But how did he end up in the Land of Misfortune... Storm Territory?"
The count's appointment of eight vassals' second sons to compete for titles had already become common knowledge. Boris naturally knew about it. If he hadn't been too young to have a suitable son, he would have hoped for such good fortune to fall to his own family.
"Yes, honored Baron Boris. My lord, Nalant, is from the Berick Family. He's the second son of Baron Andrew!"
"The Berick Family? I see!" Boris had wondered why Nalant had been assigned to the Land of Misfortune, but once he heard the name Berick, it made sense. All the vassals knew about the feud between Aldin and the Berick Family.
"Tell me, what goods have you brought this time?" Boris was curious about what specialties a place so poor it practically echoed, where the serfs were lucky if they didn't starve to death, could produce. Seeing the three carts piled high with goods, he couldn't help darkly suspecting that Nalant had stripped the serfs of all their grain.
At that, Thomas finally smiled. Quite a few townspeople were already watching from a distance. This was exactly the effect he had wanted.
"Honored Baron Boris, our caravan has brought salt and a rare delicacy: dried sea fish!" Thomas gave an order, and the guards immediately pulled the cowhide covers off the carts.
"Wow! So much salt!"
"And dried fish! Where did they get it? Aren't there mermen and sea monsters by the coast? How many sea fish would it take to make all that dried fish?"
The moment the goods were revealed, the crowd gasped. The townspeople watched the three carts from the corners, their eyes fixed on the cargo.
Dried fish, in particular, could sell for thirty copper coins a pound. It was a delicacy reserved for nobles.
Boris's eyes narrowed too. Both the salt and the dried fish were local products he'd never expected to see. He had assumed they'd brought nothing more than wheat squeezed out of the serfs.
"Where did you get the salt and dried fish?" Boris asked curiously, having recovered from his surprise.
Even Black Rock Territory couldn't produce either of these specialties. The salt was easy enough to explain: since they were fairly close to the Barony of Quinte, they could have bought some and then secretly resold it at a lower price.
As for sea fish, only great nobles had the means to produce them in large quantities.
"Honored Lord Boris, the salt is produced by a Sprite in our Storm Territory, while the dried fish comes from the sea fish that my lord Nalant personally led the serfs in catching!" Nalant had already prepared Thomas with the explanation.
"A Salt Mine Sprite? You're incredibly lucky!" Boris didn't doubt the explanation for the salt, though he envied Nalant's good fortune.
As for the dried fish, he didn't ask any further questions. Whatever method they'd used to catch the fish, there was no point pressing them; they wouldn't tell him.
"So how much are you selling the dried fish for? How many copper coins per pound? Ordinary commoners probably can't afford it, can they?"
"Honored Lord Boris, salt is seven copper coins a packet, and dried fish is ten copper coins a pound!"
"That cheap? Are you sure you heard correctly?" Though salted dried fish wasn't as tasty as fresh sea fish, it was preserved with salt, so it still sold for thirty copper coins.
But now, not only was the salt cheap, the dried fish was a third of the usual price. Boris had no idea how Nalant planned to do business. Was he running a charity?
"Honored Baron Boris, those are the prices my lord set, and that's what we'll charge from now on!"
"Very well! Since Sir Nalant is my neighbor, you may sell your goods." With that, the rattled Boris didn't linger. He headed straight back to the castle with his guards.
"My lord, shouldn't we buy some? They're selling at such low prices. Won't we be unable to sell the salt we bought from Quinte Territory?" After they left town, the captain of Boris's guards asked cautiously.
They usually had to go to the Barony of Quinte to buy salt. They kept some for the castle and sold the rest to their people for ten copper coins.
"Buy some? It's a specialty from the Land of Misfortune. Would you dare eat it?" Boris shot back.
"Besides, as for the salt, that sharp-tongued bastard Quinte is the last person I'd want to do business with. I only trade with him because I have no choice. Now that Storm Territory is selling salt to its people, that's perfect. I'd rather give up those few copper coins than let Quinte make money off me."
Since they were both vassals of the count, Boris couldn't forbid the Storm Territory caravan from doing business in town.
Still, the news that Storm Territory produced salt had given Boris a roundabout way to get back at Quinte.
In the past, when buying salt from Quinte, Quinte not only mixed plenty of sand into it but also deliberately made his caravan stay in White Salt Town for several days, so they would spend more money there.
The noble lord feared that misfortune might rub off on him, but the commoners couldn't afford to be so choosy.
Salt at the bargain price of seven copper coins a packet was enough to make them forget all their misgivings. And then there was the dried fish at ten copper coins a pound, something they had never tasted before.
So after Boris left, the townspeople gathered around.
"Sir, is your salt really only seven copper coins a packet?" a raggedly dressed serf asked timidly.
"That's right. Salt is seven copper coins a packet!"
"What about the dried fish? Is it really ten copper coins a pound?" asked a commoner dressed fairly well.
"That's right. Dried fish is ten copper coins a pound. If you want to buy some, hurry over! We're only staying in Black Rock Town until noon before continuing on our way!" Thomas answered each of them.
"Ah, then I'll take two packets of salt!"
"I want some too! Three packets!"
"Five packets of salt and a pound of dried fish..."
Once the prices were confirmed, serfs and commoners alike hurried toward the caravan.
"Don't push! Don't push! Line up and come one at a time! We brought plenty of salt and dried fish!"
Now it was Thomas and the others' turn to get busy. Quick and the other guards quickly began keeping order.
Thomas stood on a cart with a ceramic jar, collecting payment and handing out the goods.
As they worked, noon soon arrived.
"Everyone, it's about time! We have to be on our way!" Though the crowd in front of the carts had thinned, many villagers from nearby were still arriving.
But Thomas and the others had a mission to complete and couldn't delay for too long, so they began winding down the sales.
"Sir, will your caravan come back again?" The townspeople stepped aside when they heard this, but they also asked the question that mattered most to them.
"No. From now on, our caravan will only travel to and from Tulip City. We won't stop in Black Rock Town!" Thomas called out from atop the cart.