Wizard of Jatte by Rowan Erlking (ereader ebook .TXT) 📖

ore instead. Of course, we won’t be selling any of it to you.” Theissen’s smile remained. That twinkle of mischief in his eyes dared the man to challenge his resolve.

“You came to tell us that?” Ruban narrowed his eyes.

Shrugging, Theissen grinned wider. “Actually, I’d like to see how you people can possibly survive without the demon mole’s ores and stones. I think you are lying when you say you have other, better sources. After all, I’ve seen the molemen’s stones. I’ve been in their tunnels. They have jewels as large as my fist, and nuggets of gold so pure and solid that they really don’t need you at all. I’ve been trying to convince them of that, but they have this funny notion that they still need to trade with you. I’ve even offered to shape the stones myself with magic. It only takes a touch, you know.”

Ruban’s eyes widened for a brief moment. Then his gaze narrowed again. “Are you threatening to compete with us?”

“I don’t think you could handle the competition we’d give you.” Theissen said, his broad grin increasing with delight.

“You think you can take us on?”

It was not Ruban who said it though, but a middle-aged man standing behind him. He had wispy hair graying near his ears. All heads turned to look. The guard stiffened up to look more at attention than they had seen.

“Are you one of the masters?” Theissen asked, gazing beyond Ruban to him now.

The man smirked. Confidence radiated off of him like the noonday sun. His eyes took in Theissen with mirth. “You’re nothing but a boy.”

That wiped the smile off of Theissen’s face. His ears turned pink. “A boy? If I’m just a boy then you’re at death’s door.”

But the middle aged-man snorted and turned. “Follow me. I’m Master Jeweler Forntbas of the family of Jeweler.”

“Theissen Darol—”

“I don’t care what your name is. At present you are an irritating insect that needs to see how insignificant he really is.” The man continued as if he also didn’t care if Theissen was following.

However Ruban gave Theissen a sharp look with a jerk of his head to let Theissen know he and the former molemen were allowed to enter the establishment. Theissen returned the look. His hard glare transformed to an expression of pretended ennui, peeking at the others while mocking the master jeweler.

“What now?” Karo whispered to Theissen as they trotted after the Jeweler. The journey took them deeper into the building and up to a set of broad stairs.  

“Just keep quiet and follow my lead,” Theissen said. Then he paused with a whisper. “But if you can, find out how much their artisans are being paid. I need to know.”

Karo nodded. He passed on the message to the others, keeping his eyes open for any workers.

But they did not go into the production halls first. The master jeweler took them up the stairs to their main office. There they met the other master, a somewhat older looking man with a foppish brow of dark hair. He was dressed in matching clothes of lace, with stones studded into his coat lapels and he smelled of a mixture of camphor and burbon. He was lounging in a high backed armchair, resting his feet on an elegantly crafted footstool, perfectly made. A serving woman was pouring tea for him.

“What’s this?” the foppish man asked as the party entered the room, gazing dourly at Forntbas.

“The so-called wizard of Jatte, Leoner. A boy.” Forntbas took a seat in a cushy armchair, gesturing for tea to be poured for him also. The servant quickly obeyed.

This time Theissen was able to keep his composure. He properly bowed to Leoner the jeweler before introducing himself. “I am Theissen Darol Mukumar Carpenterson of Lumen Village. Resident of—”

“Did you say Carpenterson of Lumen Village? The same famous Lumen Village Carpenter that made that exquisite furniture for Lord Baron Kirsch?” Leoner leaned up, dropping his feet off of his footstool.

The servant stepped back to the side room. Ruban drew her aside, whispering into her ear. She nodded and went out into the hall.

“I’d like to forget that we ever made furniture for Lord Baron Kirsch,” Theissen replied with some bite.

Leoner glanced to Forntbas with a smirk. “Did you hear that? He’s the Lumen Carpenter’s son!

“Say, boy! Did you know most of this furniture in this office is from the Serjiev Carpenter, the eldest of his sons?”

Theissen gave the furniture a passing glance. It certainly was up to par with Dalance’s style, though it was less Lumen in personality and more like the north in taste.

“So Dalance sold to you?” Theissen said without really caring. He watched the servant return with several teacups and a new pot of tea.

Slapping the arm of his chair, Leoner let out a laugh. “Well, I’ll be! Another Lumen Carpenter! Will you make a wine cabinet for me? I never got around to commissioning one, but you’ll do if you are any bit as good as your brother.”

“I am not here about carpenter work, sir,” Theissen said with a tone of impatience, watching the servant pour tea into the cups, from a freshly brewed pot she had brought with her. “I am here on behalf of the molemen.”

“He is a wizard, Leoner. Not a carpenter,” Forntbas said with a snort.

Theissen bristled.

Karo stepped up, ignoring the tea. “He is a carpenter and a wizard. Being one does not exclude the other.”

Leoner, Forntbas, and Ruban turned to stare at the ex-moleman. Leoner narrowed his gaze at Karo then looked up and down the ex-moleman’s body as if assessing whether or not to hire him as a servant. “Your opinion is of no worth, dirt man.”

“His opinion is of high worth,” Theissen replied, sitting in one of the open chairs.

The servant gestured to him and the molemen to drink the tea.

“He represents the molemen to me,” Theissen said. “What he says dealing with their business, goes.”

“Can you believe the impertinence of—” Leoner protested, looking to Forntbas.

“And further, all you have proven to me is that you men have been living high off the profits of other men’s work. So far I am unimpressed.” Theissen shook his head and picked up his teacup.

Ruban smirked.

“We are the masters of a guild,” Forntbas replied mildly, adding a lump of sugar to his own tea, then cream. “Those are the privileges we have earned.”

“Earned?” Theissen peered into his cup and reached out for sugar himself. Taking a silver teaspoon, he stirred it around, glancing at it as the sugar dissolved. He looked at the spoon as he lifted it out and frowned. “Earned? Somehow I really doubt that.”

Theissen set his teacup down.

The servant averted her eyes with disappointment.

“He intends to challenge us,” Forntbas sneered in explaination. “He thinks that his magic can compensate against the craftsmanship of our jewel making guild.”

“He is threatening to use his magic to—?” Leoner choked on his own words as he understood what Forntbras was saying, gaping at Theissen and his fellow jewelry master.

“I am merely in doubt that you can afford to cut yourself off from the jewel exports of the molemen. I want to see proof to your claims,” Theissen said.

“Then we’ll show him!” Leoner rose quickly from his chair.

“The tea,” the servant said in a mournful whisper, now looking desperate that none of the guests had touched it.

“Yes, drink up before we go,” Ruban urged. “You may never taste victory over us, but at least you get to drink something fine before you die of your loss.”

All the molemen scowled. Manda never made tea. She was a milk and juice kind of woman, brewing only broth for hot drinks. She said tea stunted her growth. Theissen figured she was just joking, but he didn’t tell the others who had never drunk tea before in their lives. Karo sighed but did not take the cup because Theissen hadn’t.

Rising from his chair, Theissen bowed to the servant. “My apologies. But I don’t drink anything that has poison in it.”

The servant flustered, peeking back to Ruban. She clenched the empty tea tray to herself.

“Poison! How insulting?” Ruban shouted.

“It is insulting that you think I can’t recognize poison when I see it,” Theissen replied calmly.

The molemen’s eyed widened.

“Now, on with our tour, unless of course you want to try and find another way to kill us without leaving any proof of murder?” Theissen raised his eyebrows at the jewelers, his keen smile returning.

All three men glared at him. However, Leoner led his arm out. “Lead us, Ruban.”

They walked back out the corridor. This time they journeyed into the halls leading to where the different kinds of stonecutters and smiths operated. There were rooms just for jade. Craftsmen were busily fashioning solid bracelets, rings and earrings along with beads and medallions. Then there were ring makers setting ready-cut stones into bands with filigree and prongs to hold them in place. They found the stonecutters in a separate room, carefully shaping diamonds, rubies, emeralds, sapphires, amethysts, and all other sorts of colored stones under heavy supervision. The former molemen recognized most of the jewels as their own merchandise sold to the jewelers a few months before their journey to the northern city.

Karo ground his teeth, glaring at the two masters and Ruban the entire time. His other fellows kept themselves a little more productive, secretly passing out small note cards advertising work for hire with a good pay rate. So far Ruban and the two masters had not noticed. The three bosses had fixed their glares on Theissen’s particularly curious goings about, smirks, and snarky remarks—though also minding Karo’s angry glares.

“So you see, no one surpasses our craftsmanship.” Leoner waved his arm out to the final production hall.

“You mean their craftsmanship,” Theissen agreed with a nod to the room full of people. “I don’t see you out there cutting stones.”

“We are the masters,” Forntbas said, peering at Theissen’s own middle-class style coat as if to remind him that he was nothing compared to them.

“Masters?” Theissen laughed. “My father is a master. He never quit his work and let us do it all for him, taking all the profit. In fact, I bet if these men had the opportunity to leave you for better pay, they would.”

Some of the workers lifted their heads, hearing him.

“There is nowhere else for those men to work,” Forntbas said.

“I’ll hire any man right here for better pay,” Theissen announced with a loud laugh that challenged him.

“How dare you say that in our house!” Leoner shouted. His cool had gone when he saw the faces looking up. Some of the people were secretly cradling the cards the molemen had given them in their hands. “You will leave now!”

“Fine,” Theissen said. But then he turned and called out, “And anybody who wishes to leave with me right now can come! I’m offering room and board also, free of rent with healthy meals every day.”

“Do you take families?” One man stood up from his table.

Theissen grinned wider. He nodded. “Most certainly. We have plenty of space. I registered for several houses up near the Ki Tai tower recently. The former owners sold them to me for a very fair price.”

More drew in gasps. Many recognized Theissen from the rumors.

“The Wizard of Jatte!”

“I said out!” Leoner bellowed, gesturing to Ruban to get their guards.

Unable to stop grinning, Theissen headed towards the doo, almost skipping. “We’re open to anyone wanting a better life! Just come on over when you can!”

That man who had stood up grabbed his coat at a run. He rushed up to the molemen, nodding. “I’ll go!”

“You will not leave our guild!” Forntbas reached out to grab him.

Whipping around, Theissen stirred up a gust between them, blowing the old man back. “He’s not your slave. He is free man, free to choose whom he will work for.”

The guards ran in. They pointed their spears mostly at Theissen, though a great deal at the former molemen, rounding them up as they handed out their last cards. Many of the