Raydall, Noren, and Vendis had a crowd of people behind them. They were reading something on a sign board posted outside an administrative office in the merchant district. This building was near enough to the North East market but far from the dockside.
Normally there were merchant men who posted orders here, looking for hired hands for work ranging from common labor to more complex skilled work. Today, Raydall didn't wait for Old Mundungus to help them read what it was.
They trusted him; he was honest in what he said. A few times they had been lied to by some of the men the merchants hired. They had caught them pocketing the difference. This had been common enough that all three of them decided to understand numbers on their own. Even before going to what Lord Ezra called a school during Helio, Raydall understood that having a grasp of numbers was good for them.
All of them knew how to count before. It was easy. Adding things and subtracting was difficult, but with the book they understood it, especially with Lord Ezra's help during their sessions. Arithmetic had started to get easy, though writing remained harder. It had taken work to get their letters straight enough to read legibly. They still couldn't write full sentences, but reading was much easier. They were familiar enough with the signs in each of the stores they ran to.
Raydall looked at the notice board and attempted to read.
He traced his finger under the dark ink of the newest parchment. "Master Orlund requires..." He moved through the first words smoothly. "...hands for in-ven-tory of... fol-i-os."
"Folios," Noren corrected, looking over his shoulder. "It means the pages."
Raydall nodded and continued. "...to cal-cu-late total sheets for a... du-pli-ca-tion re-quest."
Vendis tapped the bottom line of the parchment. "Look at the numbers there. It pays five terrs. That is a sit job. We just count the book pages and add up the totals for his Castle order."
Another man who looked like a laborer asked the three to read another notice. He wore a canvas shirt stained with river mud and carried a coil of heavy rope over his shoulder. He pointed a thick finger at a smaller parchment pinned near the bottom of the board.
Raydall shifted his stance and looked at the indicated sheet. He tracked the ink with his eyes. "They need men to clear the silt grates," Raydall read aloud. "It pays three aers for a full shift. Plus a meal."
The laborer tightened his grip on his rope. He spat on the cobblestones. "The big man Orson is taking a cut again. Good to know."
"You boys get out!" a burly man shouted, stepping forward. "You are bad for business."
He was one of the brokers who ran the skim schemes. He would negotiate bulk labor contracts with the merchants who posted the notices, then hire illiterate laborers at a fraction of the true wage. He pocketed the difference for every worker, every single day.
At one point, the boys had used their new arithmetic to calculate how much the man was earning. The total had shocked them.
They had been reading the notice boards all day, looking for work they could do now that they could properly read and do arithmetic. People had been coming to them and asking what the notice boards said. Some of them even gave food scraps and aers in return.
The laborer with the heavy rope stepped closer to Orson. Other dock workers stopped their carts. They gathered around the notice board.
"You paid us two terrs yesterday," the laborer said. His voice was flat. "The board says three."
Orson stepped back. His face flushed. "I find the work. I handle the contracts with the merchants. That costs vatts."
"You write our names on a list," another worker said. He dropped a wooden crate onto the cobblestones. The crowd tightened their circle around the broker. They demanded their stolen wages.
"I'll call the guards on you!" Raydall said. "Don't you dare hit us!"
Orson stopped. Another person who accompanied him stopped and whispered something to him. He frowned but gave Raydall, Noren, and Vendis a piercing stare.
"Hmp! You get off easy today, you three. I can get more money elsewhere anyway." He walked out with the other people in tow, but the crowd had started shouting at them as they left.
Raydall didn't know exactly why his threat worked, but he had a sneaking suspicion that it was because he had been seen talking with the little lord Ezra during Helio.
"What do you think?" Raydall finally said when the commotion went down.
"We made some money today," Vendis said, nodding.
"Not that," Raydall said. "I think we should take the request of Master Orlund."
"Will he let us?" Noren asked. "It seems like he would prefer Kanzlei to do it, though."
"Yeah, but look at those wages. That's a job that they wouldn't take," Vendis said, furrowing his brows.
"I think we have a shot," Raydall finally declared. "We just have to talk to him."
The three agreed and made their way to the docks. Merchants either went via boat or carriage, but transporting heavy goods inland was best done through the rivers. Bren was built beside a lake that flowed toward a river, making water transport much easier than moving cargo by land. The docks were always bustling.
Several armed guards patrolled the dockside today. Fights had started to happen in the tenements because of the water quality. People from other wards had come to the Dockside tenements to line up at the water spouts, and some locals had started hogging the source. They sold the water because it was clear and tasted better than before.
Some others complained that while they liked the taste of the current water, they wanted a drink of the previous water. There were people who claimed that the new water came directly from a magic crystal that nobles could use. Raydall thought they just said this so they could sell the water at an even higher price. He didn't know if that were true.
Past the water lines, there had been a steady wave of merchant after merchant wanting to profit from the new writ signed by the Lord. Everyone wanted to have a book or a ledger copied.
When they got there, they found Master Orlund standing behind a wide wooden table near the loading ramps. Stacks of mismatched books and loose parchment folios covered the surface. Master Orlund wore a heavy blue wool tunic. He rubbed his temples, staring at the uneven stacks of paper.
A second man stood across the table. He wore a pristine grey linen tunic. His skin was pale and his hands were completely smooth, marking him as a resident of the inner ring. He held a stiff, elevated posture. A wooden ledger board rested on his forearm. A heavy bronze counting plate with vertical grooves hung from his belt.
Master Orlund had closed his eyes, clearly frustrated.
"Master Orlund, I have told you your wages don't fit the work!" the second man with the tunic huffed. "You think it is easy learning arithmetic? Your posting will not be taken by anyone. No matter how many times you post it on different posting boards across Bren."
The scribe shifted uneasily.
"I tell you, my proposition is fair. One vatt for the job. If you go to the scribes guild you can ask them, and it will cost you five vatts."
Raydall noticed the discussion. Ever since he learned arithmetic from the book Fundamentals of Arithmetic, he had started calculating how much a Krohn was. It was the highest denomination of coin, apparently seen only by wealthy merchants and Lords. It was said that it was gold but had a different sheen, and had a magic core embedded in it. From Raydall's understanding, those cores didn't have any magic in them anymore. But one could easily check if it was a counterfeit by pulsing mana into the coin.
He doubted that he would see an actual fir in his lifetime, much less a Krohn. The Imperium's monetary system was aers, terrs, vatts, firs, and Krohns. Aers were made of copper, terrs were made of bronze, vatts were made of silver, and firs were made of gold. When people said gold, they were referring to firs most of the time.
Five aers to a terr, ten terrs to a vatt, fifty vatts to a fir, and one hundred firs to a Krohn.
Raydall did the conversion in his head instantly. One vatt equaled ten terrs. The notice board had offered five terrs. The man with the bronze counting plate was demanding exactly double the posted wage.
Master Orlund slammed a hand flat on the wooden table. "One vatt is robbery. I am copying ledgers and standard folios, not Imperial treaties. I will pay the five terrs, no more."
"Then find someone who can group the fifties and hundreds for copper," the scribe said, adjusting his grip on his ledger board. "You will be waiting until winter."
Raydall stepped forward. Noren and Vendis moved with him, stopping at the edge of the table.
"We can do it," Raydall said. "For the five terrs."
Master Orlund looked down. He took in their worn cloaks and sandals. He let out a long, exhausted breath.
The scribe looked at them and let out a sharp, dismissive laugh. "Outer ring street children. You entrust your inventory to vagrants, Master Orlund? Counting requires an abacus and training. They will ruin your totals."
"Look boys. I know you want the work, but you shouldn't be lying about something you can't do. Merchants build upon trust. It would be unwise for you younglings to make claims you cannot prove." Orlund finished as he dropped his tone into a stern warning.
"We have other work that you can do. I know that you boys want to earn more, but lying about what you can do is no way to earn your wages."
"But we can prove it!" Raydall said desperately. "I swear."
Orlund gave them a questioning gaze.
"If we can prove it, will you hire us?" Raydall looked at the scribe, who was now looking at his own nails. The scribe seemed to think that the children had no bearing on the conversation at all, and proceeded to investigate his own hands, which was more important to him at this time.
Orlund still didn't answer.
"Look, Master Orlund. You get three hands for the price of one. All of us can count and read. But I have to be honest, Master Orlund, we still need practice in writing. You can also tell us to do other things; we can do manual labor as well."
At this statement, Orlund's face shifted into curiosity ever so slightly.
Seeing this change in expression, Raydall decided to push. In the end, if they got this job, even if they did some manual labor, this would be the first of many jobs they could take which used their reading and arithmetic skills. The first would always be the hardest to get into, but once they had precedent, it would be much easier to get the next ones.
"Kanzlei wouldn't dare do manual labor if given the task. We are the obvious choice, Master Orlund."
The scribe still didn't react to the statement, but Orlund's eyes widened. It wasn't because of the statement, but because the boy knew how to negotiate and put his cards on the table.
Orlund's face cracked into an emotion that wasn't too clear to Raydall, but it was obvious something within him stirred.
"Fine," Orlund looked at the scribe in front of him who was still inspecting his nails. "If you do prove it, I will hire you three for six terrs."
"Fine with us." Raydall looked at Noren and Vendis. "Right?"
Both of them nodded.
"So that is two terrs for each of us, that is a fine trade. We don't have as much strength as the grown-ups, but we can help out with labor. Any work that pertains to arithmetic or reading, we can do it."
Orlund's eyes now shifted from curiosity to interest. Raydall had just divided the sum in his head and reached the even distribution immediately.
Raydall saw the shift in expression. He knew when to capitalize on this. He and his friends had been selling skewers, and they knew when to act if they saw that someone was going to buy something.
The scribe changed his demeanor. Once he saw that Orlund was actually considering the boys for the task, he shifted his gaze.
"You would trust your goods to these..." The scribe looked at the boys from head to toe. "Streetfolk?"
He cleared his throat again. "I guarantee you that whatever these children can do, I can do better. I have been taught the craft just as my father, and his father before him."
Orlund's eyes fell back to the scribe. A smile twitched into existence on his face. "Alright, I'll humor you." Orlund had wasted enough time; he had posted a job for five days and no one was willing to accept it. This scribe had presented the cheapest offer. As a relatively small merchant who had been in Rexasticus, he had posted a job at the same rate it would be in the Imperial capital. He didn't know that the rates in the county would be ten times what they were asking in the capital for the same job.
"If you can prove that you can overwhelmingly beat the children at the calculation, then I will hire you."
The scribe hesitated. He didn't know if he should take it or not. After all, this little competition was embarrassing enough. "Okay, but because of this little entertainment of yours, I am going to charge two vatts instead."
Orlund snorted, but nodded. "Fine." Either way, Orlund would still get a discount. If the boys proved what they could do, all the better.
Orlund turned to the table. He pulled a folded shipping manifest from his tunic. "Three separate ledgers need to be combined for a total page count. Three hundred and forty-five. One hundred and eighty-seven. Ninety-four. Give me the sum."
The Kanzlei scribe stepped up to the table. He unhooked the heavy bronze counting plate from his belt and set it flat on the wood. He placed his fingers on the tiny metal beads resting inside the vertical grooves. He began sliding the beads up and down, mapping the first number into Imperial values on the 'C', 'X', and 'I' tracks. The metal clacked rhythmically.
Vendis pulled his leather-bound notebook from his tunic. He retrieved a stick of hard charcoal. He opened the cover to a blank page. The paper displayed perfectly straight, pressed lines forming a clean grid.
Vendis wrote the numbers. The symbols sat strictly inside the columns. '345' on top. '187' below it, aligning the tens and ones. '94' at the bottom. He drew a horizontal line underneath.
"Align by weight," Raydall said. "Right column first. Five, seven, and four makes sixteen."
Vendis wrote a '6' at the bottom of the right column. He wrote a small '1' at the top of the middle column.
"Write the six. Carry the group of ten," Raydall dictated. "Middle column next. Four, eight, and nine makes twenty-one. Add the carried one. Twenty-two."
The Kanzlei scribe was still moving his metal beads. He grouped five single beads in the lower track to move one bead in the upper 'V' track, then grouped two 'V' beads to push a single 'X' bead in the next column. It required constant physical shifting.
Vendis wrote a '2' to the left of the '6'. He carried a '2' to the hundreds column.
"Final column. Three, one, and the carried two makes six," Raydall said.
Vendis wrote a '6'. The final sequence read '626'.
The process took exactly eight seconds.
The Kanzlei scribe continued to shift his metal beads for another forty seconds. He finally locked the last bead into place and looked up. He glanced at Vendis's notebook. His face flushed red.
"What are these scratches?" the scribe demanded. "Imperial audits require standard numerals. You need a 'DC', two 'X's, and a 'VI'. Your marks mean absolutely nothing."
"Oh, we weren't done yet," Raydall said. Now Raydall converted his numerals into the Imperial standard.
The scribe furrowed his brows. "You are cheating!"
"I did not," Raydall said.
"We... we just converted the final answer to Imperial Standard counts," Noren said.
"This does not make sense to me."
"There is a process here. You can take a look at our notes. We have a conversion table."
The scribe picked up the notebook, checked it, and compared the numbers to what was listed in the conversion table. He furrowed his brows, visibly upset. He wanted to find fault with the way they did it but he couldn't, because he didn't understand the method, and he also could not disprove it.
"Uhh. Lord Ezra actually says that people who want to read it can, as long as they come to the Helio classes," Noren said.
"But... this is... it's just wrong. This isn't how it should be," the scribe said, wanting to argue, but his words fell flat.
"The method is from the book Fundamentals of Arithmetic," Noren said weakly.
"We were taught this during the Helio lessons," Vendis added.
The scribe's expression changed from fury to frustration. Instead of venting, he said nothing.
Orlund ignored the scribe. He looked at the final configuration of the metal beads on the bronze plate. He looked at the three simple lines of charcoal in the notebook. He translated the unfamiliar symbols based on the numbers Raydall had spoken aloud. The totals matched exactly.
Orlund pointed toward the street. "You may leave my loading bay, Scribe. I have my counters."
The scribe gripped his counting plate. His jaw tightened. He turned sharply and marched away down the cobblestones.
Orlund picked up Vendis's notebook. He studied the carried numbers and the vertical column alignment. The logic replaced the bronze plate entirely. The calculation existed perfectly on the paper, taking up less than an inch of space.
"Where did you learn to structure numbers like this?" Orlund asked.
"Uhm. We have classes during Helio. Lord Ezra says that for now only people who live in Bren are allowed to be in it."
Orlund furrowed his brows. This was news to him.
"We even get free food for the whole day, and we get to play with other children," Noren smiled and giggled.
"You mentioned a book. Do these lessons also include the books?"
"Yes Master Orlund," Raydall replied. "But the castle just lets us borrow them. They are not ours totally."
"Even these," he lifted the notebook. "But we are allowed to use this all we want."
"I think Lord Ezra just wants to make sure we are using it though," Vendis looked thoughtful.
"Lord Ezra, do you mean the Blackfyre heir?"
"Yes, Master Orlund."
Orlund swallowed. "You mean to say you get to meet the Blackfyre heir every Helio?"
"Yes, Master Orlund, we do. He says we are some of the best students in the class, too," Noren said, boasting.
"Do you... do you think the Lord Blackfyre would be open to accepting people outside Bren?" Orlund said.
"For a fee, of course," he added.
"Uhh we don't know, Master Orlund. We can only talk to Lord Ezra, not Lord Blackfyre about it."
Orlund's face widened into a grin. He looked like a mine surveyor who had struck gold. If he had known that Raydall knew the little lord, he would have hired them in an instant and found a job that fit later.
"You know, I have decided that you three deserve much more. I will pay you boys three terrs each."
Orlund's grin persisted. "Put in a good word to the little lord about me. Yes."
"Definitely, Master Orlund. We will also ask Lord Ezra about taking people but asking for a fee." Raydall nodded happily.
With this job under his belt, he felt that the three of their fates would start to change.