Chapter 167: The Art of the Table
Steam rising from the trays filled the hall with the aroma of meat seasoned with wild herbs and fat roasted over direct fire. Before the merchants, the servants poured generous clay goblets of a dark wine made from wild berries fermented in the tribe’s cellars.
Caelen, his lips dry from the long journey, took the goblet and took a deep gulp. The liquid felt smooth on his palate, releasing a fruity spice and a warmth that coursed down his chest.
"Spectacular!" said Caelen, his eyes wide as he raised the empty goblet toward the servant. "Bring more of this, please. I never imagined tasting such a refined vintage in these lands."
Beside him, Varis watched his young lord with subtle disapproval. The old man took his own goblet with both hands, bringing it to his lips to take a minuscule sip. The wine was excellent, but Varis knew that alcohol was a diplomat’s worst enemy. A clouded judgment could cost the Golden Rose Company fortunes, and he had no intention of falling into that trap.
Kellar observed the scene from his seat, resting his elbow on the armrest of his throne while keeping a steady gaze on the experienced merchant.
"Take food and several jugs of this wine to the guards and attendants waiting by the wagons outside," said Kellar, raising his voice with generosity. "We cannot be stingy with our guests. A hungry man cannot strike good deals."
As the servants hurried to obey, Kellar smirked inward. On the outside, he maintained an ironclad facade of opulence, abundance, and power. Projecting wealth and generosity was essential to prevent the merchants from sensing any need on the Overlord Tribe’s part, eliminating any disadvantage in the negotiation. To the eyes of common men in the room, it appeared to be a festive welcome banquet; to the eyes of an expert negotiator like Varis, the battle had already begun.
Varis sliced a piece of roasted meat with his knife, eyeing the golden glint in Kellar’s eyes before speaking.
"We thank you for your hospitality, Great Shaman," said Varis in a measured voice. "Few leaders on this continent possess the vision to receive foreign traders with such grandeur. Usually, tribal chiefs think only of immediate plunder."
"Plunder is for the weak who do not know how to build," said Kellar, sipping his own wine without rush. "The Overlord Tribe does not seek crumbs. We seek lasting alliances, but only with those who understand the true value of what we offer. Tell me, Varis... does your company come to trade as equals, or do you still cling to the illusion that you are dealing with barbarians?"
Varis set his goblet on the wooden table with delicacy. The old man measured every word before speaking, feeling Kellar’s inquisitive gaze locked onto him like a blade of ice.
"We would never show disrespect to the Overlord Tribe, Great Shaman," said Varis, bowing his head. "We come as merchants of the Golden Rose Company seeking a fair deal between businessmen. We recognize your sovereignty and the order you have established in these lands."
Kellar’s expression remained unchanged. He kept his back straight against the wooden throne, resting both hands on the armrests. Lennis had already informed him in private about the cargo the merchants carried in their wagons: flashy fabrics, silver-framed mirrors, and crystal spheres that emitted flashes of light. To Kellar, that merchandise was an insult. In his previous life he had studied how colonial powers deceived native peoples by trading glass beads and trinkets for gold and valuable minerals. For these merchants to attempt the same strategy with the Overlord Tribe sparked a deep indignation within him that he contained behind a facade of cold courtesy.
"A fair deal..." said Kellar, letting out a faint laugh. "Tell me, Varis, does a fair deal consist of bringing me silk fabrics, mirrors, and shiny stones pretending to carry away our refined minerals, our medicinal herbs, and the resources we paid for in blood?"
Caelen choked on his wine and coughed, while Varis clenched his fists beneath the table. The old man realized that the usual trick had failed.
"Great Shaman," said Varis, attempting to soften the tension. "The luxury items are a display of northern culture. We recognize that the true value of our caravan lies in the forging tools and processed metal. We do not intend to deceive anyone."
"Then let us speak the language of real resources," said Kellar, leaning forward. "You saw our wagons of refined iron and steel ingots. Our smelting process purifies the metal to a level your master blacksmith in the capital could barely dream of replicating. Out of the dirty ore the Black Skull Tribe sold you, only half at most was usable for forging. Ours, on the other hand, is pure. For that reason, the price will not only stand, it will triple."
Caelen’s eyes widened, unable to contain himself.
"Triple?! That’s absurd!" said Caelen, standing up. "It would ruin our profit margins!"
"If that does not seem convenient to you, you may return north with your empty wagons and explain to your lord why you returned empty-handed," said Kellar in a low voice that caused Caelen to slam back down into his seat.
Varis spoke up to regain control before his young master ruined the negotiation.
"Great Shaman, if you triple the value, our heavy forging tools and the bronze we brought will not be enough to cover the cost," said Varis cautiously. "Would you accept other minerals or precious metals to settle the difference?"
Kellar narrowed his eyes with interest.
"Do you have silver, gold, and copper?" said Kellar.
"Yes, we carry reserves of precious metal ingots," said Varis.
"Good. We will accept pure metals under the standard ratio," said Kellar firmly. "Five to one in gold, three to one in silver, and one to one for bronze and copper for each unit of our refined steel."
Varis ran rapid calculations in his mind. Although it was an extremely high cost, taking pure steel of that quality was worth its weight in metals.