Chapter 6. To Adjourn
The next day, it wasn’t Rhys and Bast who manned the stall. Instead, the smallest, most delicate of the orphans sat behind the cloth, peddling their bags to all passerby for one silver a bag. Two of the oldest orphans stood nearby, just close enough to ward off anyone who might think about snatching a bag, or worse, the orphans’ takings. Rhys and Bast circled in the crowd, watching the orphans to make sure they didn’t undersell the wares or pocket the take, but also, to advertise their wares.
“The finest cloth bags! Perfect for you or your ladyfriend!”
“Unique to this town! Bags crafted from the finest cloth. You won’t find these anywhere else!”
The bags sold one after another. The children they’d put behind the cloth were the most effective salesmen, with sad, liquid eyes and malnourished limbs. The second they locked eyes on a weak-willed, sympathetic passerby, it was over. The sale was made, and silver exchanged hands.
As for the potions, Rhys carried them himself. The children acting as salespeople had been told to redirect people asking after potions to him, so that he could broker the best deal possible. The bags were mostly cheap, and the children were instructed to flag him over if anyone showed untoward interest in one. But the potions were worth gold whether they found the perfect buyer or not, so he handled those deals himself.
As the tournament kicked off, he swung by the kids and relieved them of their spoils. “Keep up the good work!” he cheered, subtly slipping each one a penny.
The kids’ eyes got wide, and they nodded and hid the penny quickly. He walked away, almost laughing to himself. If they’d just fought and kept that money, they would have had so much more than one penny. But then, that was how the world always worked, wasn’t it? The weak were manipulated by the strong. Corporations trampled their workers, then stole the fruit of their hard work and gave them a fraction of the money they made. All he was doing, was introducing them to the way of the world.
Bast nudged him. “How much did we make?”
“More than enough,” Rhys replied, showing him the pot. Bast’s eyes got big, and he stared. Rhys nudged him. He jerked back to reality and straightened up.
“It’s not more than yesterday,” Rhys pointed out.
Bast shook his head. “I can’t believe we made that much twice. It’s insane.”
“Pity it’s the last day of the tournament. Otherwise, we could keep this up for weeks,” Rhys muttered, half to himself. Like anything children did, it would fall apart eventually, even with Rhys in control. With the tournament ending, the out-of-towners would leave, and there was little chance the townsfolk would buy a bag. The townsfolk were too poor to afford that kind of luxury. Still, it would’ve been nice to get a couple more days of sales out of it.