Chap. 36 The Shysters

Chap 36 The Shysters

In his pocket, he had two braided horse hair necklaces. It had taken him long hours of work. It hadn't been mind work. No, had he realized it, the skill had served to allow him to relax after a day's training. He'd done it so often his fingers did the work, allowing his mind to concentrate on reading books. 

The problem being, though, he had no idea how to go about selling them.

He watched vendors. Most were either behind a table covered with their wares: boots, or fruits, clothing, or even a laying hen, nothing he was interested in. Never mind the fact that he didn't have a mark to his name. 

There were several people, though, without even a table or a booth. These folks were purposefully quartering the market, carrying their wares and calling out to passerbys.

 "Barter or sale! Barter or sale! Best you will ever find! Deal with me, you won't regret it!"

He felt self-conscious, unwilling to draw such attention to himself. "I'd never make a trader," he thought. He didn't want to barter, either. He wanted marks to eventually buy a fire lizard egg.

He touched Raventh. The brown dragon was asleep in the sun off on the far edges of the market, to keep the cattle and horses from bolting in fear. He'd flown with his wingleader, D'mitran, to take Hariko and Daryat shopping in preparation of the graduation feast and then Gather. 

Well, he thought, not a soul knows me here, so if I make a fool of myself, I'll just be a nameless fool. If the only way to sell his necklaces was to shout out, well, then, let's have at it.

"Alright, K'ndar," he said, aloud. "Let's give it a whirl." He took a deep breath and began to call, "For sale! Hand braided necklaces! Braided horsehair necklaces for sale!" he shouted. He held one in each outstretched hand.

The crowded market gave him barely a glance. He continued this for at least ten minutes, beginning to feel discouraged and foolish, when a vendor called out, 'What you got? What you want?"

He neared the table. The man behind it looked sketchy. His table was loaded with various items, some new, some old- a knife (which he liked the cut of, until he remembered he was SELLING, not buying), a badly mildewed leather belt that had been scraped and oiled to appear new; new boots that looked far too small for his feet; and a very nice looking shirt.

"Where'd you get those, lad?"

"I made them."

"Pfft. Let me see them. I don't believe you."

Intimidated, K'ndar wondered, why would he doubt my word? 

The man took the necklaces. He tried to dislodge the agates that K'ndar had drilled to form clasps. He turned them over and over, running a dirty thumb over them, muttering about the flaws in them. 

K'ndar bridled. He'd made enough of them to know there was nothing wrong with them. 

The vendor shook his head, handed them back and said, "I'll swap this belt for the both of 'em."

"They're for SALE, not barter." he said. 

"They t'aint worth marks."

"They ARE." he said. "And that belt is mildewed."

"Pfft! Mildewed? What do you know of leather, eh? It's well broken in. Have it your way, though, I'll give you a 16th for them both."

K'ndar was shocked. 16th of a mark was the price for a loaf of bread.

The vendor smirked at him. He knew he had an amateur in his grasp, someone who hadn't the faintest idea how to haggle or dicker. This would be easy. He wanted them-he knew he could turn them around in a minute for far more than he was offering.

A woman came up to see the man's wares. "What do you have there?"

K'ndar showed her ONE of the chokers.

She turned it over and over in her hands. "Hmmph. I've seen better," she sniffed, dismissively. 

K'ndar took it back, insulted. "I'd like to know where. I've never seen anyone here wearing anything like this," he said, protesting.

"I offered him 16ths," the vendor said in an offended tone, as if defending himself against an unreasonable K'ndar.

 "That's generous of you," the woman said.  "I don't think they're worth more than a 32nd." 

K'ndar felt his face flushing with anger. "They're worth more than that!"

"Not in my opinion," the woman said. 

"16" the vendor said, "Take it or leave."

"Take it, lad, before he changes his mind," she said.

"I'll give you half a mark for them," a voice said behind them.

K'ndar turned around to see Lizard, the man he'd met at the market the first time.

Before K'ndar could say a word, Lizard flashed him a quick look that said "Shut up and play along."

"Let me see them." He handed them to Lizard. 

The woman stood very close behind K'ndar. He could feel her breath on his neck. It made him nervous.

A crowd was beginning to gather behind them. People were always willing to watch a bidding contest.

Lizard held the chokers out to show them to the crowd. "This is intricate work, my friend. You did this yourself?"

"I did. It took a lot of work and time."

"Aren't these beautiful!" he said. The crowd murmured agreement. "Look how the patterns repeat themselves. Three, no four! different colors of hair!"

"T'aint worth marks," the vendor repeated, unconvincingly. Lizard's accurate appraisal was infuriating him. How dare the man interfere! 

"I don't know where you've been, but I've never seen better craftsmanship than I'm seeing right here. I'll give you a half mark for EACH."

The woman grasped K'ndar's elbow, forcibly drawing his attention to her.  

"Now, now, then, dear lad, you're so nice, but I'm telling you, he's daft as a wherry. You're better off with the barter." She shot a quick look at the vendor. K'ndar saw it, but didn't grasp the significance. "Look at the fine shirt, it's never been worn."

K'ndar shook his head, irritated at her unwanted contact.

"Half a mark," the vendor said, "Each."

"1 mark. Each," Lizard shot back.

The vendor began to sweat. 

"Mark and a half for both."

"I have to leave, I can't stand seeing such a sweet young man get cheated," the woman said, seeking the support of the crowd. "Don't you agree, he should take barter," she said to no one in particular. They ignored her.

"Mark and three quarters. Each." Lizard said, enjoying himself.

K'ndar was too tongue tied to intervene. Nor did he want to. This was all way above him. 

The vendor's face clouded up, realizing he was now dealing with an experienced trader, not a novice like K'ndar. He desperately wanted those chokers. 

K'ndar, smiling, opened his mouth as if to agree to Lizard's offer.

"Two marks EACH," the vendor cried, without thinking.

Lizard put up his hands. "DONE! I'm tapped out. Two marks each! That's beyond me.  Congratulations, sir, you drive a hard bargain-you're obviously a better trader than I ever will be."  He turned to K'ndar, his eyes laughing. "Well done, lad!  You've made an excellent deal." 

K'ndar was stunned. 

So was the vendor. 

There was silence for a moment. K'ndar recovered quickly.  He looked expectantly at the man. "Four marks, please."

"Uh…uh," the vendor stammered. He shook his head and his hands, but it was too late.

The crowd began to look angry. They muttered. They could see the vendor was looking for a way out of the deal.

"Four marks. Sir."  K'ndar repeated, making the 'sir' sound like an afterthought.  

The vendor's eyes went side to side, looking for the woman, but she'd disappeared.

The man backed away from K'ndar, as if to run. 

"You bought them. I want my money. Now." K'ndar said, in his best dragon voice.

Submitting to the inevitable, the vendor pulled four worn out marks from a pouch.

"Those be NEW marks, correct?" Lizard said. "Wouldn't be right for you to be passing on marks that are no longer legal. The Lord Holder here, he comes down hard on cheats in his Market."

"Aye, that he does," piped up a man in the crowd, "Lord Dorn, he ain't above putting a con man in t' cell and then forgetting he done it."

"You want to see a man's bones? Lord Dorn's cells got lots," someone else said. 

"Get on with you, wher bait." the vendor snapped at the man. He pulled four brand new marks from the pouch.

"Here. Gimme those necklaces."

A voice from the crowd said, "Check those marks, lad, before you hands them over."

K'ndar took the marks. He had never held a mark in his life and had no clue as to what made one 'good' and another 'bad'. 

"THEY'RE GOOD I tell you!!" the vendor yelled. The reminder of a jail cell froze him to the marrow.

He held the marks up as if he knew what the deuce he was doing. Lizard looked at them, nodding his head. "They's good." 

K'ndar put the marks in his pocket and handed the chokers to the furious vendor, who snatched them away. 

The crowd erupted in laughter and applause.

"Well done, lad!" one cried. "This vendor, he's cheated plenty of us before. Good to see him get skinned hisself for once." 

The vendor, glaring, folded up his table and wares, leaving. The crowd began to disperse. 

Lizard was gone. 

Dazed at what had just occurred, K'ndar eased his way out of the crowd (they'd always made him nervous).  He'd had enough of the Market for the day.  Time to sit next to the dragons until Mum and Hariko were done shopping. 

He kept a hand in his pocket, holding more marks than he'd ever held in his life. He saw the woman approaching him, a big, welcoming smile on her face, her hips swaying far more than was necessary. But it was her eyes that held his attention. They reminded him of the look on the faces of the hunting dogs when they were hot on the trail of prey: joyous wagging of tails, cold ferocity in their eyes.

She grasped his arm.

"Young man, I think we should have a conversation about your transaction. That was brilliant! You're obviously a born trader, out bidding that shyster. Imagine, him wanting to cheat a handsome young man like yourself." She fell into step with him. Her arm went around his waist, as if they were old friends, pulling her into his side-the one opposite the pocket of marks. He felt her subtle pressure, deftly steering him through the crowd, towards where?

"Weren't you the same person who wanted me to give them away for a shirt? Is any shirt worth four marks?" he snapped.

She laughed. He felt her hand questing at his wrist, the one shoved deep in the pocket with the marks. He moved his elbow out, shoving it away.

She nestled closer to him. "I KNEW you were sharp! How clever of you to notice!  I've done a bit of trading myself. Don't you see, I was trying to get you to get away from him. Then I could help you get a better deal. But I couldn't just say that out loud, you understand. Too many locals!  I know how stingy the traders here can be. Like that vendor!! They will cheat you in a moment."

He began to resist the direction she was moving him in. Wherever it was, he had no doubt, it was no place that he'd want to be.

Her try for his pocket stymied, her arm began making its way up his spine, towards the choker on his neck.

"I think you got cheated.  You need to talk to my good friend. He's just on the other side of the market.  He would have given you 8 marks without all that haggling. That's twice what that nasty old con man gave you. Twice!! You would have ended up with 8 marks! But, even so, he will undoubtedly like to buy the one on your neck." 

Her fingers were almost on it.

"It's not for sale," he said, resisting putting his free hand on it. That would mean pulling it out of his pocket--where the marks were. 

"Come, you handsome man, with your talent, you can always make another. Look at how quickly you sold two!"

 He broke her grip on him, pushing her away with a harder than necessary elbow jab. 

Grimacing with what looked to be despair, she grasped his arm, her face pleading. 

"Won't you at least sit down with me? It's been a very long day and I'm…I'm a lonely woman, a very nice woman, without a friend in the world." She looked downcast. "Two goblets of some Benden wine shouldn't cost you too much. I'd love to discuss just how many of those necklaces you can make. I can help you sell them at a profit." 

 "No, thank you."

Her pressure to move in a certain direction was increasing. 

"Let's discuss this. I have some very influential friends, dear lad, very wealthy. I'll introduce you to my friend the rich trader. He could make you wealthy."

He stopped, tearing himself completely free of her grasp. Getting the first good look at her face, he realized that she was MUCH older than he was.

He dispensed with courtesy. She didn't deserve it. 

"Let me tell you what my father has always said, when people took him for a dungbooted fool.

"Don't pee on my boots and tell me it's raining."

With that, he spun on his heel and headed for his dragon. Quickly.