The conqueror from a dyi.., p.13
The Conqueror from a Dying Kingdom: Volume 2, page 13
“Then we started drinking.”
Wait. Hold on a minute.
“Why’d you start drinking? How come there wasn’t a fight?”
“’Cause they’re seamen. Helping someone lost at sea’s just common decency. You don’t steal from people in that situation.”
“Really?”
My impression of pirates made it hard for me to believe that they’d behave like that, but what did I know about pirate culture?
It was so common to get lost at sea that I could imagine a system where ships helped each other out when they went adrift. I doubted the practice was widespread, but it was plausible that seamen from a maritime nation like the Albio Republic lived by that rule. It was an interesting bit of culture if true.
“Not that we’d ever drifted off course, mind you. Anyway, we had a drink. That turned into a drinking contest. Let me tell you, we showed them a thing or two.”
“I’m glad you had fun.”
It sounded like an incredibly fortunate way to make contact. If things had gone just slightly differently, they might have gotten a bad ending that saw them all killed and their cargo stolen.
“Yeah. So I left my crew in the pirates’ village while I headed for the capital.”
“They let your crew rest in the village? That was kind of them.”
“Obviously, they wanted money for food and lodgings.”
“Oh, of course.”
The money in this case must have been Shiyaltan gold coins. Since they contained actual gold, they held an intrinsic value that wasn’t affected by what currency it happened to be. Even so, we were like barbarians to them, so it was surprising they’d let the crew stay.
“We’d landed on the Great Albio Island that you were talking to Ms. Ether about. I had to take a ferry to get over to Minor Albio Island. The capital’s name was Byron’s Peak, and it was on the smaller island.”
“Oh.”
The southern half of the island of Great Britain was controlled by a different nation, so they were lucky they’d happened to drift ashore at the northern part that corresponded to Scotland.
“Their royal capital-type place isn’t as big as Sibiak. Anyway, I made it there.”
“You did well.”
Learning a language was one thing, using it to travel through a foreign country alone like that was another entirely.
“To start with, I spent a few days in a tavern getting drunk and having fights.”
Wait, what?
“Fights?”
“Maybe it’s just me, but I think it’s normal for sailors. We spend day after day on the water. Once you’ve finally got your feet on the ground, you wanna spend a few days raising hell in a tavern. I only fought with other sailors, of course.”
“I see.”
That’s what sailors do? Their culture just sounds weird to me. It’s like every one of them’s another Dolla.
“Then a messenger from the government came to the place I’d been staying at. I got invited to see them.”
Wh-What?
“The next day, they took me to this massive, fancy hall where all these important people were waiting. I told them my business right then and there. Said I was there to trade, and I had no idea whether I needed permission first, but I didn’t mean any harm. Or something along those lines, anyway.”
Sounds good to me. At least he didn’t say anything to embarrass our kingdom.
“I got permission, no problem. Well, it wasn’t really permission—turns out I didn’t need it in the first place. So what I should say is that trading’s not forbidden.”
“Were these people parliamentary officials?”
“Something like that. I asked around several times, so I’m sure it was the closest thing they’ve got to Shiyalta’s royal castle. Turns out they haven’t got kings or queens in republics.”
Well, yeah. Otherwise it’d be a kingdom.
“Republic” generally referred to a state with some sort of elected government rather than a monarchy.
“Was their parliament a gathering of the most influential nobles?”
“They looked like it. From what I’ve heard, you buy a noble rank there. Apparently, some of them are pirate bosses and big merchants.”
Despite being a republic, it sounded like all the power was held by some sort of aristocracy or oligarchy. They almost certainly didn’t have democracy or universal voting rights.
“Then, after the council had finished, I accepted a bunch of invitations. The next day, they took me to the harbor and introduced me to some people there. I made a good number of contacts.”
He really did get lucky. Things couldn’t have gone better.
“Then I went back to the village and boarded our ship again so we could go back to Byron’s Peak. We’d filled the ship with cargo that might sell just in case. I sold off what I had when we got there, then left the ship in the harbor. They were really surprised when they saw the ship—said it’s outdated.”
Byron’s Peak was the capital he mentioned, wasn’t it? Now I know they not only have better paper, but more advanced ships too. I’ll bet everything’s progressed much further there.
“I stayed docked there for about a week while I looked around the markets with some sort of accountant and figured out what I could buy to sell when I got back home. I brought back a range of goods and made a big profit selling it at markets. It’s always like that—if you have something the area lacks, it sells fast.”
All in all, Harol’s voyage had been a big success.
“Well, that’s good to hear. Honestly, I’m happy for you.”
All his hard work paid off. It was worth all that time he’d spent learning those difficult words.
“Let me just say thanks—it was your idea, after all. I’d never have thought of it if you hadn’t said anything.”
“Not at all. You were the one who studied Terolish and risked your life on the open seas. I didn’t do anything.” All I’d done was share the first thought I had. Not many people could learn a radically different language from scratch.
“It helped me out, anyhow. I’ll treat you to your drinks here, though it might not mean much if you’re not touching alcohol.”
After Harol had shared his stories and emptied two tankards of beer, the topic turned to my recent doings.
“Has anything new happened with you?” Harol asked.
“A few things. I had some ideas and decided to do some trading myself.”
“You? Why?”
He sounded surprised. Probably because the sons of high-ranking nobles weren’t known for being merchants.
“I don’t mean to brag, but I’ve got most of the credits I need already. If I don’t do something, I’ll just be bored every afternoon until I graduate. I figured I’d start up a business I can operate in the capital.”
“You know starting up a business in Sibiak isn’t easy, right?” Harol looked serious, like he had a lot to say on this subject.
“I’m well aware of that. It’s why I came up with a totally new product. Actually, you’ve seen it already.”
“Oh, so that’s what that was.”
“I’ve been making it myself. Well, just prototypes so far.”
What he’d seen was Prototype No. 10 of my new paper.
“But why put work into making something new when it’ll just get copied?”
Everyone kept saying the same thing: make something new, and the witches will steal it. Every merchant in the capital seemed to have a story of it happening.
“I did some groundwork first to prevent that. Only I can sell it.”
“You got exclusive marketing rights?”
“No, not quite. It’s called a patent. The gist of it is...” I gave him a simplified explanation.
“Sounds like you got a good deal there.”
“I did. The system’s public now and there are five registered patents already. Patent No. 1 is my patent on paper.”
“You’re making it already?”
“Of course. I’ve rented a hut in the capital close to the mountainside, and we’re steadily working on it.”
“Wow. You’ve gotta take me there sometime,” Harol said.
“I was about to head there today, actually.”
“Well, how about I come along?”
With no notice? I suppose that’s fine.
“All right. Let’s head to the Ho residence. It’s not far from here.”
“Ho residence? S-Sure.”
Harol looked a little bit daunted. I would’ve expected my house to be nothing to him after sailing to a nation of pirates and back.
It only took us ten minutes to reach the residence from the tavern. I was recognized at the front gate and passed through, no problem. I went to the stables and asked for a plainrunner.
“Wait. I’ve never ridden a bird in my life,” Harol blurted out.
“We’ve got saddles for two. Don’t worry.”
Since plainrunners didn’t have long, flat backs like horses, it could be a little cramped for two men when riding one.
“It’s not the saddle I’m worried about.” Harol still seemed nervous.
What happened to all of that courage you had when attending a foreign nation’s parliament?
I gave a slight tug on the reins in my hands. Just as signaled, the plainrunner obediently crouched down before us.
“It’ll be a good experience. They’re more comfortable to ride than horses. Please get on in the back first.”
“Ugh... All right.”
Harol reluctantly slipped his foot into the stirrup to climb up. He looked unsteady once he was up on the saddle.
I simply jumped onto the plainrunner, landing in the gap formed between Harol’s legs.
When I pulled on the reins once more, the plainrunner understood the signal to stand up.
Ho plainrunners had been trained much more thoroughly since Rook became head of family. Rook was never going to turn a blind eye if someone wasn’t training our birds well enough.
“Let’s go. By the way, make sure you don’t bite your tongue,” I warned.
I hit the plainrunner’s abdomen with my feet to make it run.
This was a large, middle-aged bird rather than a youngster, so it had no trouble carrying two people.
✧✧✧
“Here we are,” I said.
I got down from the plainrunner in one agile movement.
“Uh...” Harol mumbled as he clumsily climbed off its back. The new experience seemed to have taken him by surprise, but he didn’t complain about his butt being sore.
We’d arrived at an old building on the western edge of Sibiak.
There were several reasons why I’d chosen this building. The first was that it was run-down and cheap. The second was that it still had a water mill with a waterwheel that was used to draw water for the animals back when it housed livestock. And third, its location—it was upstream, which meant that the water here was clear and free from pollution.
It was filthy inside, with a floor made entirely of dirt, but it was good enough for our work.
I opened the door and went in.
“Hey, Yuri. The latest one came out pretty good,” Caph greeted me cheerfully as he paused his work. He sounded confident in Prototype No. 11.
“That can’t be Caph, can it?” Harol said.
“Hm?” All the merriment was gone from Caph’s face the moment he looked at Harol. “Harol Harrell. What’re you doing here?”
“What about you? How can you dare show your face around here?” Harol shot back.
“Your mother never teach you not to answer questions with questions? I asked first.”
“Alenfest Trading sent their clerk here to spy, did they? What’s the big idea?”
“I left Alenfest way back. What year are you living in?”
It felt like there was going to be trouble.
“Are you two old friends?” I asked.
“He’s no friend of mine,” Harol replied.
“We’re old business rivals,” Caph explained.
Ah, that makes sense.
“Try to get along with him,” I told Harol. “Caph’s an important business partner.”
“Get along with him? He does nothing but dirty work. Do you know how many times our business was in trouble because of him?”
“I was just following orders. Quit whining about the past, would you? Grow some balls while you’re at it,” Caph said.
“‘Grow some balls,’ huh? Will you still say that after I punch you out again?” Harol began rolling up his sleeves.
“Again”? He’s punched Caph once before?
Caph put his hand to his brow as if he found Harol’s attitude tiresome. “You’re going to start a fight even though we both know you’ll be crying later? Haven’t changed much, have you? You sailors never learn.”
What’s wrong with these two? They’re grown men, but they’re arguing like kids.
“Bastard!”
In his anger, Harol pushed me aside and reached for Caph’s collar.
I stopped Harol with a hard kick to the leg. I made sure to grab the back of his clothes before he could fall to the ground, but his knee still touched the dirt floor.
“Sorry Harol, but I’m not going to let you fight here.”
If they wanted to trade blows over whatever had happened between them in the past, that was fine by me...just not in this particular room. We had paper drying under rocks, along with papermaking molds and other things. The molds in particular were expensive pieces of equipment that would probably break if an adult fell on one. It would cause a major setback to our work.
“Out of my way,” Harol snarled.
“Just a minute ago you wanted to learn the teachings of Yeesus. What’ll Ms. Ether think? First you sling insults around, now you’re about to use your fists.”
“Grr.”
As expected, the mention of Ms. Ether had an effect on Harol. He went quiet and got to his feet.
“Hah,” Caph laughed.
“You too, Caph. Remember where you are before you start a fight. What if you’d broken our tools?”
“True enough. It’d be a setback if we broke anything in here. Sorry.”
“What’s this?” Harol laughed. “You take orders from kids now? That’s funny.”
It felt a little weird to me too, but Caph himself had asked me to talk like I was his boss.
“Yuri’s my employer and I’m a manager for his company. I know you’re a sailor, but how’d you miss that?”
“What’d you say, asshole?”
“Stop it, both of you,” I said.
Or at least take it outside.
“Now, where’s Prototype No. 11?” I asked.
“Ah, it’s this one.” Caph handed me a piece of paper.
“Wow.”
It looked a little brown because it hadn’t been bleached. It bothered me a little because I knew that plain white paper was the best kind, but at least the color wasn’t too dirty-looking—the raw materials were close to white to start with, so it was only slightly off-color. Then again, parchment wasn’t pure white either, so this wouldn’t put our product at a disadvantage.
Despite that minor imperfection, Prototype No. 11 actually looked like paper. The surface was flat with very few raised fibers.
A writer’s pen would catch on any raised fibers, so getting rid of those was crucial. If the pen caught on the surface, it wouldn’t just make it difficult to write—it could also tear the paper. At a bare minimum, I wanted an ordinary person with a standard pen to be able to pack the surface full of text. I was hoping that no tearing would occur at least nine times out of ten. Thicker paper would’ve been more robust, but that had obvious drawbacks, so our focus was on improving the surface.
“It’s beautifully made. You did well.”
“I was pretty proud of this one myself.” Caph looked pleased with the quality of his work.
“This’ll sell. This is our Product No. 1,” I said.
“I can start selling this to stationery stores.”
“Please do.”
We’d already decided on our path forward after discussions. We were going to get started by selling our paper as an alternative to scrap pieces of parchment.
Parchment scraps were sold primarily for the purpose of taking notes. They were uneven pieces with odd shapes. Since they were made from animal hides, there were always going to be pieces from places like the paws or rumps that couldn’t be made into neat rectangles. Those bits were usually cut away so that the rest of the hide was easier to work with.
Although the skins were generally stretched so that they wouldn’t contract while drying, even pin-sized holes caused during the tanning process would grow much larger as they dried, resulting in more unusable pieces. Those were normally cut away too.
The result was that a lot of scraps of all shapes and sizes were cut away in the process of making parchment. But even though these failures weren’t half as valuable as nice square pieces, they were still sold for a pretty penny as parchment regardless.
Myalo, for example, bought scraps in bulk, cut them into rough square shapes, and made a hole in each piece so that they could be bound together into a vocabulary book. He used it in the hopes that it might help him improve his Terolish. Unfortunately, these warped scrap pieces couldn’t be used for long letters because they were too awkward to write on.
If we could offer nice, square pieces of paper as an alternative, they were bound to sell well. Our plant-based paper still didn’t have the quality of parchment, so this was just a first step. We planned to come up with a product good enough to replace parchment completely later.
“How much of it can we make?” I asked. A high-quality product wouldn’t mean much if the raw materials were too expensive, or if they couldn’t be bought in large quantities.
“I didn’t use any rare materials to make it, I improved the drying process. I thought maybe we’re getting raised fibers because the paper’s in contact with the rough wooden planks while contracting. So I took a good piece of wood, shaved it with a freshly sharpened plane, and then applied wax to seal it against water.”
