The Trickster’s Market
"Ah! I feel light as a feather!"
Feeling the newfound lightness in his body, Juan began his morning with a meal of warm, freshly baked bread. It wasn't the stale leftovers from the night before, but bread straight from the oven, lightly spread with quince paste. The condensed acidity and sugar of the paste were perfectly balanced by the complex, lingering sweetness of honey rather than refined sugar.
There were eggs fried in lard. He popped the yolk and dipped his bread into it; the rich, savory flavor of the healthy yolk melded beautifully with the hearty bread.
The chickpea soup was as smooth as cream. It had been mashed and passed through a sieve, topped with minced garlic sautéed in spinach and lard to heighten the aroma. The fresh wine made last autumn had been stored perfectly, its sweet, vibrant profile still intact.
It wasn't quite the breakfast of his home estate, but for a traveling nobleman, it was a meal that delighted a gourmet’s palate.
"Hibeiru. This bean soup is quite interesting."
The dish, devoid of any chunks of meat and relying solely on finely pureed beans seasoned with garlic and lard, included finely chopped spinach. While it was a humble ingredient, hardly fit for a nobleman’s table, the complex flavor derived from the high-quality, finely ground beans was truly enjoyable.
"They say it is a local specialty, Excellency."
"Indeed. I wondered why such a fine inn would serve a bean soup with nothing but greens and no meat, but it turns out to be a local delicacy."
Noblemen were creatures who ate meat. Greenery was merely for visual appeal or to enhance the scent, not to be consumed. Yet, the spinach soaked in the creamy soup possessed a flavor worthy of even a nobleman’s palate.
"I have looked into it, and today is the day of the regular grain auction, Excellency."
"Since we’ve come this far, we cannot miss the chance to see the auction house. Let us go."
After finishing his meal, Juan headed toward the commercial district located beneath the fortress-like rows of warehouses.
THE FIRST AND FINAL RULE: Whether the goods are good or bad, they have an owner. Do not deceive regarding quality or weight.
"Is this your first time here?"
As Hibeiru and Juan were reading the sign, a soldier wearing a breastplate and carrying a halberd blocked their path and asked.
"It is."
Hibeiru stepped forward first to answer the soldier.
"Can you gentlemen read?"
"Of course."
"That’s fortunate. That is the rule here. You must use the scales and measures provided by the Marquis as the standard. If you insist, 'The standards in my hometown are different!', you will be expelled."
The soldier spoke with a stern expression before opening the way.
"Where is the auction house?"
When Juan asked for the location, the soldier pointed to a building.
"Are you looking for the auction house as soon as you arrive from Amsterdam? The grain auction is held in that building over there. It starts at 2 PM, so make sure to deposit your auction funds in advance."
"I don't have cash on me right now. Will you accept a promissory note?"
At Juan’s words, the soldier looked solemn and replied with a hint of annoyance.
"I am a man who maintains order and prevents disturbances in this market under the orders of the Marquis. Why are you asking me about money?"
"Ah, my apologies."
Hibeiru apologized on his behalf, and the two headed toward the wholesale market before going to the auction house.
There, countless people were gathered to buy and sell goods.
"Ironware from Bilbao! Trusted quality! Weight guaranteed by the Marquis!"
"Cheap, so cheap! Goat milk cheese from Salamanca!"
"Planks and square timber from Leon! We also have wooden barrels and firewood!"
Shops were lined up in rows. Merchants were shouting about how good their goods were, trying to attract customers.
"Oh, we meet again, young man. How was the 'Spice and Wolf' inn? Was it fit for a nobleman like yourself to stay?"
The old merchant from the bridge recognized Juan and spoke up.
"I didn't reveal that I was a nobleman, so how did you know?"
"Well, the person next to you also carries the air of an educated man. If such a person is serving you, it’s obvious you’re a nobleman, isn't it?"
"Anyway, what have you come to buy?"
"Naturally, I came to participate in the wheat auction. And I’m just looking around the market to see if there’s anything good."
The old merchant, laughing heartily, skillfully traded iron from Bilbao. While bargaining with an iron merchant over a sample, he handed over a wheat warehouse receipt. The merchant then handed over an iron warehouse receipt, and the transaction was completed with just that.
"Wait, you’re trading based only on a sample? How can you trust that?" Hibeiru asked, to which the old man replied with a look as if he were watching a country bumpkin. "If there’s a problem at the warehouse later, we trade believing that the Marquis will handle it."
After touring the market, Juan said to the old man, "This level of activity is incomparable even to the regular markets of medium-sized cities. Are you saying this is a permanent market?"
"That is the mysterious part of this place. The Marquis opens the warehouses for only a storage fee, so merchants from all over the region walk for a week just to store their goods here."
The old merchant looked at the warehouses standing against the mountains and continued, "Once you store your goods, even if there is no transaction tax, you have to pay a storage fee of 1 pun on the first of every month. So, merchants who want to sell their goods as quickly as possible gather here, creating a market where goods are bought and sold every day. In effect, all the regular markets of other cities have gathered here."
The storage fee was 1 percent of the cargo value—a price that was subtly both expensive and cheap. Over a year, that amounted to 12 percent, which was different from the typical rent calculated by area or weight. It was a fee structure akin to a private vault.
"But then, wouldn't it be a loss to bring small, precious items? And the value of the goods 'melts' by 12 percent per year?"
"Did anyone hold a knife to your throat and force you to bring them? If it’s a loss, you just don't bring them. Besides, the Marquis protects those warehouses from thieves, rats, and fire, so that much is worth paying! Oh, and keep in mind that liquids like wine and other easily perishable items are not allowed."
Juan, a nobleman from Portugal—the nation of merchants—was thrilled by the merchant’s compliance with this system and the grand design of the Marquis who had engineered it. He had likely predicted—no, believed and was convinced—that the Empire's currency would collapse, and thus created a private vault based on physical assets. This bizarre structure, which was highly disadvantageous for precious metals or art but advantageous for bulk cargo, was literally 'shorting' the market and currency of Spain.
"Hoo... This is incredible. Do other cities not protest?"
"Protest? Cities devastated by floods haven't even been able to restore their warehouses yet; do you think they could even hold a market? Besides, the Marquis didn't force anyone to come here."
Hearing that, Juan could feel an even deeper, more profound malice. Where could the materials to build such large-scale facilities have come from? He had gathered the materials that were supposed to go to each city and used them to build this. He had indirectly hindered their facility restoration and made everyone dependent on his massive warehouses. All the cities in the region were offering voluntary loyalty—no, submission—to the Marquis.
".... My eyes have been opened."
"I shall prepare for this as soon as we return to Portugal."
The God of Money seemed to have approached Juan, whispering, "Your eyes are open now? Come, let us print money!"
"Let's see... Item 11, feed barley. Item 12, Trigo Candeal... Excellency! They say there is a special auction for 'Keel-grade' oak in the 3rd construction materials warehouse."
"Oak!? Keel-grade? How could materials meant for shipbuilding end up in this inland area?"
Juan was shocked. In reality, the country was in a crisis because there was no wood to build a fleet, so why was oak arriving in the deep inland?
For oak to be considered suitable for a keel, it had to have grown for 150 to 200 years. From the perspective of Portugal, which had to stake its life on its fleet, oak was a strategic asset that needed to be secured at all costs.
As Juan showed interest, Hibeiru quickly moved around to gather information.
"They say it is oak from the Leon mountains. Leon is in the northwest, but in reality, there is no way to reach the sea."
The mountain range blocking the north and west of Leon was truly a 'Wall of Lamentations'; it was barely passable for a donkey, let alone for transporting the massive trees needed to build warships.
"Can we participate?"
"I will check."
After asking around among the merchants, Hibeiru returned and said, "It seems difficult for now. They say it's only possible after obtaining a registration certificate and depositing cargo, silver, or gold coins."
"What about promissory notes or bonds from Genoa or Amsterdam?"
As the wealthiest man in Portugal, Juan always carried promissory notes or bonds that could be used as cash.
"They say they don't recognize them. If you want to participate in the trades here, you must bring cash or physical goods."
When Hibeiru mentioned that even credit trading was prohibited, Juan felt as if his common sense was being denied.
"Why on earth? At this scale, couldn't one earn several times the profit just by pulling a few levers of leverage?"
"Ah, Spanish royal bonds are the exception. They say they accept them, although the discount rate is quite high at 80 percent."
At Hibeiru's words, Juan was dumbfounded. The best of the best. The symbol of trust, Amsterdam bonds, were rejected? And they were accepting Spanish royal bonds, the very embodiment of default?
"They accept that scrap paper? Has the Marquis lost his mind?"
"Thanks to that, all the merchants and bankers who were dying while holding Spanish royal bonds are flocking here just to get a single grain of wheat."
It was only natural that debt collectors from all over Europe would flock here now that their toilet paper had found a use. Only then did Juan notice the Genoese bankers who had come all the way to this inland region.
They wore clothes in the same style as the solemn Spanish Empire, but with goat-leather gloves studded with jewels, symbolizing Genoese bankers. Instead of the stiff Spanish-style collars, they wore soft, delicate Italian-style lace collars. Those with the typical attire of Genoese merchants were red-faced with anger.
"This is insane. Hibeiru. Am I the strange one? Am I the only one who doesn't understand?"
"Perhaps you should speak with the Marquis when you meet him later."
Unable to say, "I don't know either," Hibeiru followed Juan to watch the special auction instead of the grain auction.
In the construction materials warehouse, there were 24 vara—massive oak trees reaching 20 meters in length. A gentleman in a stylish hat stood before the men and shouted.
"This lot consists of five 'Keel-grade' oak trees from Leon! These massive oaks, reaching 24 vara in length, are capable of supporting the keel or mast of a ship of the line!"
He began to tap the wood and describe its condition.
"These are high-quality goods, roughly hewn immediately after felling in the mountains, with knots and branches removed, and dried for 12 months on the cold Leon mountains to drain the sap! Thanks to being slowly aged while facing the biting winds, there is no warping, and the strength is like steel!"
"The starting price is 2,000 reales in silver per tree! I will proceed one tree at a time!"
No sooner had the auctioneer finished his shout than a man stepped forward and said, "Now, these five pillars lying here are all the property of the Empire, and they are the spine that will support the galleon of His Majesty Philip IV! 2,000 reales per tree. It’s over! There's nothing more to see! These trees have already been chosen for the King's fleet, so do not wag your tongues and commit the sin of disloyalty!"
He shook a pendant engraved with Philip IV's seal in his hand and stepped on the oak with his leather boots to assert ownership.
"2,500 reales."
However, at the cool, single word from an Amsterdam merchant who had quietly raised the price, the auctioneer accepted the bid.
"2,500 reales! We have 2,500 reales!"
"Apostate! How dare a Protestant from the Low Countries! Have you forgotten that this is Valladolid, the heart of the sacred Kingdom of Castile!"
"The Marquis Juan respects the individual rights of those who bid on items in the auction. Didn't you already receive 'one warning' from the fair-minded Marquis? Mr. Contractor?"
"Ku... kuh-huck."
Leaving behind the royal contractor who had been pushed aside, unable to even breathe, a new competitor entered the fray.
"3,000 reales."
As the elderly banker in goat-leather gloves spoke with precision, the auctioneer shouted the bid.
"Oh! 3,000 reales! We have 3,000 reales!"
Before the auctioneer could finish, the Dutch merchant shouted, "4,000 reales!"
"5,000 reales."
At the old man's immediate bid of 5,000 reales, the merchant from the Low Countries lowered his hand.
"Whew. You win. Duke of Valvaces. I didn't know you would still be attending auctions even after becoming a Duke."
At the merchant's words, the old man called the Duke wore an expression as if he were carrying all the sorrows of the world.
"If I cannot settle my bonds, my family will be ruined, so how could this old man find time to rest?"
"Why does the Conqueror of Ostend show such weakness? I will never forget your dignity until the very end."
At the Dutchman's words, the old Duke left his seat.
"Ostend was glory to me. But now... no. I will take the wood. Let us meet again."
Author's Note:
Amsterdam was the center of commerce where auctions were held daily. 500x leverage? Totally possible there. It was a country that experienced the era of the Tulip Mania, a time of great speculation. It is truly the father of modern civilization.
Amsterdam auctions were descending-price auctions. They were time-attacks that proceeded only until a small candle burned out. There are many romantic auctions that stimulate human greed, but this novel is set in Spain.
Spanish royal bonds were famous for being toxic since the time of Philip II. And they were famous for being forced upon people...
So, actual Spanish royal bonds were traded at 15-30 percent of their face value... Seriously, why didn't these guys go bankrupt and how did they last 100 years?