Jupiter

The hunters from yesterday lurked behind the trees, atop outlooks and sentry posts, thinly disguised in veils of woven vine. They perched on the thick thatched roofs of two isolated cabins just offset enough from the path to feel their presence, but far enough that you could never see them for certain. And because we were the ones looking for a deal, we could not do anything about it.

So we trekked up the hill in the late afternoon with our heads bowed, even though we had done nothing wrong. Eventually, we reached Ardesburg’s northern trading outpost, and awaited our partner.

Ten minutes later, a middle-aged woman in a tall embroidered black cap, flanked by two other villagers in smaller red caps, arrived to greet us.

“You are Moonlight?” The woman asked.

“We eight represent Moonlight, indeed,” Caramine affirmed. “I am their leader, Caramine.”

The woman nodded. “I thought the others spoke in jest when they told of humans among your clan. It appears I was mistaken. I am the mayor of Ardesburg, Jupiter. I am accompanied by two of my advisors. We are a prosperous village, and we have earned our wealth through the blood, swear, and tears of our miners and artisans. We have pioneered and refined the finest techniques for metal extraction and purification in the southern half of our continent, and are the largest exporter of grade five bars to the Caelus Mesa. We are seeking to grow, but no single deal is by any means necessary for our growth. It is by our grace that you have earned the privilege of speaking to us. Do I make myself clear?”

“You make yourself clear,” Caramine echoed.

“Very well then. Let us not dally. What are your conditions?”

Aleare retrieved a scroll from our belongings and passed it to Caramine, who unclasped it and began unfurling it.

“We would like to see the conditions ourselves, Moonlight,” Jupiter interrupted.

Caramine paused, then handed over the scroll to Jupiter. She opened the scroll the rest of the way as her advisors packed in closer. Together, they analyzed the text in silence.

“An explicit trial period during which Moonlight is contractually prevented from earning revenue off your own samples,” Jupiter muttered. “Insurance? Insurance…coverage of extenuating circumstances during the trial, procedure for nullifying the contract...I see you have made a very generous and very thorough offer.”

“As we should, in recognition of your having the finest purification facilities,” Caramine added.

Jupiter ignored her. “If we are to accept the contract after the trial period, I see it remains in place for five years, unless a party finds provable fault in the other’s conduct or wares. This includes breaking pre-established and explicitly mentioned rules, and a significant degradation of quality that cannot be attributed to natural causes.

“And what do we have here! A blanket statement that poaching is an offense punishable by immediate contract termination. I see you are aware of our history,” Jupiter said.

Caramine shifted uncomfortably on her feet. Of course she was. There’s no way she could’ve made it here if she wasn’t. And I could feel how much she resented the implications of what Jupiter said. But she didn’t say anything, and just nodded along.

Eventually, Jupiter stopped narrating parts of the contract aloud, and she and her advisors huddled closer around the scroll. Suddenly, one of the advisors piped up. “I see here you have specified metrics of quality. These conditions list a number of properties, such as density and coloration, that will be accepted as evidence in a breach of contract. Where are we guaranteed that any other metric, deemed suitable by experts in metallurgy, may also be used?”

“I believe our text reads that the listed properties are included, and not comprehensive,” Caramine replied.

“I would like it to be written more explicitly, instead of merely implied by use of ‘including.’”

“As you wish.”

One of the advisors passed Jupiter a quill.

“If you may, I would like to write in the edit, with your supervision of course,” Caramine interrupted.

Jupiter met the typhin’s gaze. Merlum, behind and to my right, cleared his throat.

Then, the second advisor whispered something into Jupiter’s ear. She nodded, then whispered something back. After a little more hushed discussion, Jupiter turned back to our group.

“It appears to us that you are genuinely interested in a transparent, mutually beneficial partnership. So instead of having us write amends in the chaparral, we will guide you into the town, and iron out the details in our main hall. It is not right for leaders like us to stand in the wilderness, is it not?” Jupiter said.

Caramine’s eyelids twitched as she answered. “Perhaps it is not.”

We began walking towards the town, led by the representatives of Ardesburg. One of the advisors continued talking about the deal as we walked. “I’ll have you know that we too, have written conditions. We pride ourselves in precise, transparent business, as our people do.”

“As is the best,” Caramine replied.

“However, there is something we would like you to know, before we share our full conditions. I see in yours that you give the option to receive payment in foodstuffs, as an alternative to coin. I’ll have you know that we sell nothing but the finest Caelus barley, at 90 dulcs per bushel,” the advisor said.

“Caelus barley sold starting at 90 dulcs per bushel!” Caramine exclaimed. Jupiter shot her a piercing gaze. “I mean, I would like some insight into the pricing of this commodity. The market rate of barley across the north, including the barley of the northern plains, is no higher than 30.”

Jupiter nodded but did not turn back again. “Of course, you have our apologies for forgetting that traveling merchants mainly dealing with the north would lack the knowledge of the south. Caelus barley has a distinctive pungent, smoky taste not found in other cultivars, as a result of our unique climate. Furthermore, it is quite difficult to grow, as even mild flooding, a true threat during our summers, could decimate a yield. The result is a fine but rare barley, whose price is merely a reflection of the difficulty of its cultivation as well as its superior, refined taste, compared to its cousins in the north.”

“Assholes,” Lotus whispered. I bit my tongue. People from all around the continent went to Gaurang for their barley, and Lotus knew this. “We don’t even sell their stuff for twenty.”

“Pardon?” An advisor asked, clearly having heard something.

“Let’s wait until the meeting,” Merlum whispered to Lotus. “We will discuss this further in the meeting,” he said aloud to the Ardesburgians.

If Caramine was disturbed, she did not let it show. “Caelus barley in winter and spring, oats in the summer for grain. Sweet potatoes, green beans, corn for vegetables. I would like to confirm that these are all the staple crops, as the conditions indicate?”

“Those are our staples, correct. Additional non-staples will be sold at the going market price, to be reported each season if you so desire,” Jupiter said.

“And how are we to objectively confirm the going market price?”

“You will be purchasing those non-staples directly from the village marketplace. You can see the prices paid by our people, who will shop among you, but you will have supervision.”

Caramine nodded slowly. This was as much of a guarantee to us as our claim that every Moonlight typhin was tattooed was a guarantee to Ardesburg: probably dependable, but easy enough to manipulate by a determined enough party. It was the supervision in particular that felt like a loophole. What was stopping our supervisor from pressuring us to take higher prices in the market, using our whole contract as leverage? I saw Caramine clench her teeth, wanting to call it out. But I knew as well as she did that it would do nothing for the deal.

We stepped into the town gates, a series of five meter tall iron behemoths inlaid with patterned plates of gold, leading up to a stone wall extending either way as far as the eyes could see. The pillars holding up each gate were starkly rectangular, and the top of the gate was framed with two golden horns. Honestly, they looked very garish, but I said nothing.

“My brother works at the frontier of modern ore purification,” one advisor said, adjusting their cap. “If you so desire, we can bring him in for a more scientific explanation. But first we iron out the details of our deal.”

“Thank you for your generosity,” Caramine said.

A sentry at the top of the stone wall saw us arriving and swung open the iron doors to Ardesburg.