"Currently, within eight to ten days, we can brew 30,000 to 40,000 kilograms of rice liquor and produce 5,000 kilograms of maltose in just four or five days," Tyton announced confidently, his eyes gleaming with pride.
Logan, the chief, silently calculated the figures in his mind. "So, in one month, we can produce 100,000 kilograms of rice liquor and 30,000 kilograms of maltose," he mused aloud. "That translates to 5,000 gold coins from the liquor and 3,000 gold coins from the maltose. Altogether, that's a monthly income of 8,000 gold coins."
He pondered the implications. "An annual output value of 100,000 gold coins is sufficient to support our 100,000 tribesmen and fund a well-trained army of 10,000 soldiers."
"But," Tyton interrupted gently, "there are currently 40,000 kilograms of rice liquor and 15,000 kilograms of maltose still sitting in the winery."
"Is the winery still brewing and making sugar now?" Logan asked, his brow furrowing slightly, though he waved his hand to signal that Tyton didn't need to answer.
"Yes," Tyton replied, understanding that the chief had already grasped the situation.
"Well then, it's their business if they don't take the goods. Production must not stop," Logan declared resolutely. "Wine can be stored for a long time. As for maltose, as long as it's well preserved, it should be fine. Continue production."
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"Yes!" Tyton nodded firmly.
"By the way," Logan added, his gaze sweeping over the busy orcs, "send someone to call David, the wine merchant, and Fisher. Tell them that I am here."
"Yes!" Tyton responded, a mix of surprise and determination crossing his face. He had already attempted to contact these men; David had cited issues with the trade route, and Fisher had been entirely elusive.
"Inform them that if they do not come by noon, the cooperation on white wine will be terminated," Logan commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument.
"Yes!" Tyton replied, invigorated by his chief's decisive leadership. As he left, he exchanged a glance with Kadia, both of them admiring Logan's boldness and authority. They, too, had been worried about the situation, but the chief's commanding presence reassured them.
Logan, despite his outward calm, felt a simmering anger. He was a problem solver, and the fact that Fisher had completely avoided Tyton was unacceptable.
Later, in the opulent lobby of the Kasha Hotel, Tyton and Calvin prepared a lavish banquet for Logan. The three of them sat at the grand table, though the hall felt emptier than it should.
"Chief, this wine doesn't seem to be rice wine," Tyton remarked, setting down his glass and looking at Logan with a mixture of curiosity and surprise. The wine was clearer and mellower than rice wine, with a richer flavor. Unlike the fragrant rice wine, this new beverage had a depth and smoothness that intrigued him.
He leaned forward, meeting Logan's gaze with sincerity. "Your new wine and sugar have been incredibly profitable. I've made tens of thousands of gold coins this month alone. But the big players in the industry have blocked the routes. Even if I had the wine, I couldn't move it."
The gravity of Fisher's words hung in the air. Logan listened, his frustration giving way to contemplation. The quiet intensity in the room remained, a testament to the complex web of commerce and power they navigated.
"What does it mean to cut off the trade route?" Logan asked, frustration evident in his voice. "These powerful merchants have placed bounties on the caravans of both David and myself. The moment our caravans appear, countless thieves outside Canyon City descend upon them like vultures."
Fisher nodded grimly. "Their tactics are ruthless. They offer rewards to ensure that any sight of our caravans invites a swarm of bandits."
"But why don't you hire more mercenaries to escort the caravans?" Tyton interjected. "Surely there are groups willing to take the job for the right price."
Fisher sighed, shaking his head. "The problem isn't just finding mercenaries. No one in Canyon City dares to take the job now. The reward money has tempted even some of the mercenary groups. Who's to say they won't turn on us the moment we leave the city?"
"That's a vicious cycle," Kadia muttered. "The very people we pay to protect us might end up being the ones hunting us."
"Exactly," Fisher replied. "Every day we lose is a significant blow to our profits. It's a game we can't win by playing their way."
"So what do you propose we do?" Logan asked, his voice steady but eyes hard. "Do you want me to sell all our rice and liquor to those very same merchants?"
Fisher scoffed, frustration edging into his tone. "Threatening me won't help. I'm doing everything I can, but we're up against a coalition of powerful merchants. It's not something we can dismantle overnight."
He continued, his expression darkening. "These merchants are driven by greed. If you supply them with all our liquor, it won't be long before they drive our winery into the ground. And then, they'll force you to work for them, making wine under their terms."
Logan's face betrayed a flicker of surprise. "Can't I refuse?"
Fisher laughed bitterly. "You could refuse, but are you ready to face the consequences? They won't just stop at your business, they'll target your family and your tribe."
The gravity of Fisher's words hung heavily in the air. "You're Jane's future husband, so I'll give you some advice: don't underestimate them. They can hire tenth-level warriors to wipe out your entire tribe. What chance do you have against that?"
Logan's face grew darker, the weight of the threat sinking in. "If the tribe falls, if my family is threatened, what is the point of all this? Why make wine if everything I care about is at risk?"
"Don't think we're doing nothing," Fisher said firmly. "Blocking someone's income is like killing their parents. I've already sent word to my father and asked my eldest brother to return with reinforcements."
His eyes blazed with determination. "When my brother arrives, we'll show these merchants that the Greymane family isn't to be trifled with. This land will remember our strength."