Act Ten: The True Knight (Part Three)
three
Azad—that's what Yakov decided to call him—was allowed to stay overnight by Yubi. The Blood Slave arranged for his young servant to sleep in the next room so the Saracen wouldn't have any trouble understanding the language. After he finished doing all this, he saw the slave girl Naya standing by the corridor, holding a candle, as quiet as a mindless statue.
“The master is calling you,” she said respectfully and without inflection. “The hot water is ready.”
“I know,” Yakov replied coldly. “I’ll go right away.”
The female slave nodded, and the candlelight faded away in her hand.
Yakov returned to his small room and retrieved some things. This winter was colder than usual, making the long corridor along the Golden Horn Bay even darker. He walked barefoot on the carpet—Yubi changed the carpet here every year, and Yakov recognized its exquisite pattern, concluding that this one was more expensive than last year's. He looked up and noticed that the curtains above the archway had been changed, and the familiar corners were now filled with vases, sculptures, and paintings. The further he walked, the more the warm, damp air enveloped his face.
"How much money have you spent this year decorating your house and buying clothes and jewelry?" Yakov walked into the bright drawing room and began to reprimand, "This is not necessary."
“You’ve only been back for a day and you’re already lecturing me. Does something have to be necessary?” Yubi was fiddling with a Saracen water compass at a table by the hot spring. “How can this not be necessary? This is how nobles should live; it’s good for socializing.”
Yakov raised his arm, and two slaves came forward, obediently unfastening the various buckles on his chainmail and helping him remove and straighten it. Soon, he was only wearing his undergarments and trousers. Yakov waved his hand, signaling the slaves to leave him.
He walked up to Yubi. "I brought you a gift."
The vampire continued fiddling with the intricate machine in his hands, not even glancing at him. "What gift?" he complained petulantly. "My birthday was ages ago, and you never manage to celebrate it. Now you're trying to curry favor with me with a gift?"
“It’s what you like,” Yakov said. “I brought some exotic spices from the East.”
His master finally raised his eyes. Yakov handed him a delicate little velvet box—Yubi examined it closely before opening the lid. “This is called benzoin,” Yakov said, scrutinizing his face. “It comes from Sumatra.”
What place is that?
“It’s further east in the east,” Yakov sighed, half nervously and half reassured, “on an island covered in spices.”
To his surprise, Yubi quickly closed the box as if he had no interest whatsoever, tossing it onto the table next to several glasses of bright red blood. "Alright, I'll have Schumer calculate its value and see if we can buy it in bulk." He stood up and shoved the blood slave to the pool. "Go take a bath, you're as salty as seawater."
"Where's your ring?" Yakov asked. "I thought you wanted to know how it smelled as soon as possible."
"We'll talk about it later." His master just pushed him roughly into the water. "We'll enjoy it together when Schumeer arrives."
Yakov felt a pang of doubt—he turned around, but Yubi grabbed his shirt and pulled it up, blocking his view. Once the horrifying mark on the blood slave's chest was soaked in the hot water, his master transformed back into a sweet and charming figure, smiling at him with a smile that curved his lips and eyes.
“You’d better wash yourself clean, Yasha,” Yubi said, “otherwise I won’t drink your blood.”
Yakov's arms broke out in goosebumps, and the hairs on his arms stood on end. "You'd better drink other people's blood, Lord Jubius," he retorted sarcastically. "Don't call me that."
"Why are you like this too?" Yubi suddenly shouted angrily and frustratedly, splashing tears into Yakov's eyes. "You're not allowed to call me that!"
Yakov hadn't expected his offhand remark to anger Yubi so much. He stared wide-eyed at his master's glaring red eyes. "...Then let's not do that," Yakov said, sitting in the pool. "You make me uncomfortable, and I know how to make you uncomfortable too."
“That’s not the same thing!” Yubi stood up straight and complained condescendingly, “I want to get closer to you, but you always push me away!”
"How can you lack people to be close to? Stop bothering me."
"You're not allowed to say things like that to me, Yakov. Shut your mouth!"
Finally, the sound of Schumacher's stick striking the floor came from the corridor, interrupting their argument. "How can you start arguing after only one day back?" the Jew muttered, sighing repeatedly. "I really regret not having asked Lord Eubius to bring you a price list last night. Why did you sell the spices at the original price?"
"Lord Jubius." Upon hearing this title, Yakov understood why Jubius had reacted so strongly. His mark throbbed with a sudden, dull pain, and he stopped arguing, his eyes darting around. "...I also expect you to explain your plans more clearly next time." The Blood Slave splashed hot water on his face. "Don't make me keep racking my brains trying to figure out what you're thinking at the docks."
“How could I have imagined that I had to teach you even the art of hoarding rare goods?” Schumeer sat down, feeling his way along the marble edge of the hot spring pool. “The higher you sell it, the less we spend…”
What are the costs?
“We’re going to buy those spices back.” Schumer’s smile was half-hidden in the darkness. “That’s my plan.”
Upon hearing this, Yakov's head began to throb again as if by premonition—he was utterly terrible at math. "You have to explain this to me more clearly," he said, raising his wet hand to pinch his temple. "Don't tell riddles."
"Alright, alright, you foolish knight! I'll tell you a story, and if you still don't understand, I can't think of anything else." Schumeer clicked his tongue, his little mustache swaying. "Do you know the story of the goose seller?"
Yakov frowned. "A goose?"
“Listen carefully, don’t lose your mind.” Schumacher cleared his throat. “Once upon a time, there was a Jew. He passed through a village where every household raised geese for a living. So he wanted to buy a goose to eat—but the villagers, seeing that he was a stranger, raised the price from 70 to 100 before they would sell it to him. So he came up with a good idea to deal with these nasty, unruly people.”
"The next day, he went to the village and said he wanted to buy 100 geese for 200 each."
Yakov interrupted him. "Fool," he scoffed, "isn't this just letting the villagers profit?"
“I’m not finished yet!” Yubi angrily smeared soap powder mixed with essential oils on his head. “The fun starts later.”
“Exactly, please listen to the whole story before you comment.” Schumeer tapped his foot in dissatisfaction. “The villagers also felt it was a windfall, and he quickly and easily bought 100 geese. On the third day, he came back and said that the geese in the village were of excellent quality and wanted to buy another 100 geese at 500 each!”
Yakov's confusion did not diminish, but he kept his mouth shut to avoid getting foam on his tongue.
"Of course, this went very smoothly. The villagers not only thought he was a fool, but also believed that their geese were indeed of excellent quality. On the fourth day, as expected, he returned, saying that he had a large order to buy 1,000 geese at a price of 1,000 each! However, the amount was huge, and he would come back to purchase them the next day, advising the villagers to prepare as soon as possible."
“Where would there be so many geese in the village? But everyone wanted to make money from them. So he disguised himself so that no one would recognize him and transported all the geese he had bought in the previous two days into the village to sell for 800 each.”
"Sure enough, even the geese that cost 800 yuan each were snapped up by the villagers. From then on, he never appeared in the village again."
"Yakov, you do the math. How much money did this man make in just one week?"
The arithmetic problem made the blood slave close his eyes in disgust, his beard and hair reeking of the astringent smell of soap. He immersed himself in the hot spring, washing the foam off his face. "...I have a question." He wiped the water droplets from his face. "That's a village, this is Constantinople. If the Jews can disappear from a village, don't you want to live in Constantinople anymore? Aren't you afraid of being hunted down by everyone? We have legitimate businesses, why are we doing this?"
Schumeer sighed in exasperation and shook his head. "I told you, he wouldn't understand even if I told him."
Yubi shrugged. "But to be honest, it took me a lot of brainpower to understand..."
"Explain to me quickly." Yakov snatched the large brush from Yubi's hand. "I don't understand because you haven't explained it clearly enough."
"You still remember why we did this!" Schumacher said angrily, crossing his arms. "I did this because the Nix of Smyrna was jealous of our business! You should use that stone-like stupid brain of yours and think about what would happen if we bought spices at high prices?"
"This will cause a lot of people to rush to buy spices in front of my ship," Yakov said, scrubbing his back vigorously. "We'll have to spend even more money to buy them back."
"You see, if you put a promissory note in front of him, he might just throw it away like a piece of waste paper!"
“I can read now, I won’t do that stupid thing.”
"Then think about it, how can a mere piece of paper be worth silver or gold?"
Yakov was both angry and anxious, and no longer wanted to pay attention to the despicable Jew. "He can't explain it clearly, you tell me." He grabbed Yubi's sleeve, soaking a large patch of fabric. "What are you planning?"
“Hmm…” Yubi stared into his eyes, “I think what Schumeer meant was that anything can be worth silver and gold. Paper can, goose can, spices can. And once it’s worth silver and gold, whether the paper is smooth, whether the goose is delicious, or whether the spices are pungent, becomes completely irrelevant.”
“We spend some money to make spices no longer spices, and their prices skyrocket, turning them into a synonym for silver and gold. Then, perfume merchants like Nicholas of Smyrna, who actually use spices, no longer have the capital to do business.”
Yakov released his hand, sank into the hot water, and frowned as he pondered for a while. Suddenly, he felt a chill run down his spine from the stone bricks beneath his feet, and instantly understood the meaning of "cutting the weeds and eliminating the roots."
“And all the spices are in our hands.” Yubi smiled at him. “Whether we want to make perfume, or buy and sell, raise or lower the price, it’s all up to us.”
“I have one last question,” Yakov said, looking up warily. “...Even the people in the story had to spend a lot of money to buy geese the first few times. Where will you get so much money to raise the price and buy up all these spices?”
“You can do math, can’t you?” Schumeer smiled, half of his face beneath the bandages, seemingly pleased that his companion had finally grasped the concept. “This is all thanks to Lord Jubius’s connections and abilities,” he said slowly and respectfully, “otherwise, of course, this couldn’t have been done.”
“Don’t call me that, Schumeer…” Yubi lowered her eyes.
Yakov frowned, scrutinizing the two of them. "Where did you get the money?" he asked, rising naked from the water to block Yubi's view. "Did Anbichya give it to you?"
“I haven’t relied on my sister for anything since then.” Yubi raised her chin with considerable pride. “The money came from Diophantus.”
Yakov moved closer to his face. "He lent it to you?" the blood slave's voice was filled with venom. "Why should he? What reward does he want?"
“We are just taking what we need and helping each other equally!” Yubi looked directly into those blue eyes without backing down. “His father has passed away and his sister is getting married. In order to transfer wealth and get more inheritance, he must lend me all the money in his house so that I can return it to him alone in the future, instead of using it as a dowry for his sister and letting it fall into the hands of outsiders.”
Yakov felt a subtle chill envelop him. He had nothing to say and sank back into the warm water.
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
