Chapter 28

A Certain Merchant’s Story.

When I heard those words, I involuntarily raised my head. “Trade is not something that transports only goods.” To my chest—the chest of a mere merchant waiting at the bottom seat of the meeting—that single sentence fell straight in. My nominal purpose was to explain the market situation. I was merely an existence called upon for reference when the topic of abolishing tariffs came up. But now, the Third Prince’s gaze certainly seemed to be fixed on this side—on the logic of those who make a living through commerce.

Goods are merely a catalyst. What merchants truly transport are market prices. Rumors. The movements of people. In which town is wheat scarce? In which port have warships increased? Which country’s silver coins have dropped in content? At which checkpoint have inspections become stricter? Those things are inevitably transported along with the goods loaded in carts and ship holds.

When I was young, I used to travel to northern towns loaded with salt. Come winter, the price of iron always went up. The reason is simple. Mountain passes are closed, and the transport of ore stagnates. Merchants know such things before the royal palace does. One year, iron prices soared earlier than usual. I thought it was strange, and a month later, I heard there was a skirmish beyond those mountains. The signs of war appear in the market first.

When I heard the proposal to narrow it down to one port, a shiver ran down my spine. That is not a story about squeezing merchants. It is a story about making the paths merchants travel into “routes officially recognized by the state.” Merchants will inevitably gather at the designated port. Warehouses will be built. Stevedores will settle down. Inns will increase, eateries will open, and moneylenders will set up shop. Eventually, it will no longer be just a port. It will become a place where people, money, and information constantly swirl. Moreover, the items are to be limited. Textiles, medicine, processed goods. All things directly connected to daily life and with uninterrupted demand. In other words, merchants will regularly and constantly travel back and forth to that port. Faces will become known. Names will become known. We will come to grasp who from where is coming and when.

That is no longer mere trade. It is a state where the “situation remains visible” in each other’s countries. A country going to war first cuts off the roads. It stops the flow of goods and people. I have seen that many times. Therefore, when the paths of commerce narrow, we all think the same thing, even if we don’t say it aloud. —Ah, preparations for war have begun somewhere. But with this treaty, they cannot do that. As long as merchants come and go, no matter how much they hide their armies or increase their stockpiles, it will inevitably leak. “Rations are gathering at that port.” “There are more medicine purchases than usual.” “The market price of iron is moving strangely.” All of that will cross over to the opposing country from the mouths of merchants.

I felt my throat go dry. The Third Prince is trying to bind peace through trade. He creates a reason to be protected by the neighboring country with iron, protects merchants at the ports, and binds the two countries together through merchants. If this is not a coincidence, and these remarks are all calculated… The talent of this young prince is bottomless, even to me, who has lived my life devoted solely to commerce.

The delegates are still thinking. About the ports, about the merchants, about loss or gain. But I have already understood. If this treaty is concluded, merchants will become busy. Cargo will increase, traffic will increase, and opportunities to see each other face-to-face will increase. And the more traffic increases, the more these two countries will become unable to fight.

Merchants do not do business for the sake of the country. They move for profit. That is natural, and I had never doubted it. Which road is safe, which goods will sell for a high price—I have only looked at that.

But if those roads traveled in pursuit of profit eventually keep war at bay—perhaps that, too, is one form of commerce.

I quietly bowed my head. Somewhere in my heart, I began to think that I must respond to this young prince’s vision as a merchant.