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personalities.
    “Anyway, enough of such talk. I’ll be scolded by the missus for sure. Shall we talk of trade? I presume that’s why you’re here.” Mark’s expression shifted from friendly banter to business. Though there was no need for formalities between the two, their relationship was a calculated one.
    Lawrence readied himself for the exchange and spoke.
    “I’ve brought nails from Ruvinheigen. Thought you might want to buy them up.”
    “Nails, eh? I’m a wheat seller. Did you hear somewhere that we now nail our sacks of wheat closed? I think not.”
    “Ah, but you’ll soon have many customers laying in supplies for the long winter. You could sell those nails just as you sell the wheat. People need them to brace up their homes against the snow.”
    Mark looked skyward for a moment before rolling his gaze back to Lawrence.
    “I suppose that is true...Nails, you say. How many?”
    “I’ve one hundred twenty nails of three pate in length, two hundred in four pate , and two hundred in five pate , along with a statement of quality from the Ruvinheigen blacksmiths’ guild.”
    Mark scratched his cheek with one end of the rolled-up parchment and sighed. This feigned reluctance was a common merchant trait.
    “I’ll take the lot for ten and a half lumione ."
    “What’s the lumione trading at now? Against trenni silver.”
    “Thirty-four even when yesterday’s market closed. So that’d be...three hundred fifty-seven trenni .”
    “Too low by far, sir,” said Lawrence.
    The amount wasn’t even as much as Lawrence had spent to buy the nails. Mark’s brow furrowed at Lawrence’s quick answer.
    “Have you heard about the crash in armor prices?” Mark asked. “With no military expeditions into the north this year, people are unloading armor and swords left and right, which means there’s a glut of raw iron. Even nails are cheaper now—even ten lumione is a generous price.”
    It was the response he had expected, so Lawrence calmed himself and replied.
    “Aye, but that’s in the south. When there’s so much iron to be melted down, the price of fuel will rise enough to make it impractical. If you can buy enough firewood to melt iron this time of the year in Ploania, I’d sure like to see it. Anybody that tries it is likely to have their head split with a kindling ax.”
    Once winter came to regions with a lot of snow, the supply of firewood stagnated. The iron forges, with their bottomless appetite for fuel, were abandoned during the winter. If some blacksmith did decide to forge in the winter, the price of firewood would immediately skyrocket, and he would soon find himself showered in the curses of the shivering townspeople. Thus, even if the raw material for nails was suddenly abundant in the region, the original price of those nails should hold steady.
    Any merchant with a bit of experience would be able to put this much together.
    Unsurprisingly, Mark grinned. “Come now, must you be selling nails to a poor wheat merchant? If it’s grain, then sure, I know how to buy it cheap, but nails are far from my specialty.”
    “Sixteen lumione , then.”
    “Too dear. Thirteen.”
    “Fifteen.”
    “Fourteen and two-thirds.” Mark’s medium frame stiffened, leaving him loglike.
    Lawrence could tell he would get no further in his negotiations.
    Pushing it would only damage the business relationship. Lawrence nodded and extended his right hand. “It’s done, then.”
    “Well met, guild brother!” said Mark with a smile, shaking Lawrence’s hand.
    The price was undoubtedly quite a compromise on Mark’s end, as well.
    As a wheat merchant, Mark was not, strictly speaking, even allowed to buy or sell nails. Which merchant could sell what good was decided by the respective guilds, so to stock a new item, a merchant had to either obtain the permission of the other merchants already selling that item or cut them in on the profits.
    At a glance, this rule would seem to obstruct free trade, but if it