Chapter 59: Papers
Outside, Ernest and Hollen were back at the port market again.
"Are you sure? How about the tallow that we ordered from the slaughterhouses?" Hollen raised a concern.
"They’ll still remain our main ingredient," Ernest replied. "I plan on blending olive oil and tallow together and once our supply of olive oil becomes consistent, we can gradually reduce our dependence on animal fat. There’s no reason to abandon a cheap raw material if it still makes economic sense."
Hollen nodded slowly.
Tallow cost twenty-six riels per kilogram.
Olive oil cost sixty.
More than double.
Replacing everything immediately would be expensive.
"A blend would lower costs," Hollen said.
"Exactly," Ernest replied. "It also reduces risk. If tallow prices rise, we have olive oil. If olive oil shipments are delayed, we still have tallow. One supplier failing won’t cripple production."
The forge owner looked impressed.
The more the company expanded, the more important diversification became.
Not just for customers.
Not just for factories.
For suppliers too.
The two men continued walking through the crowded market while merchants loudly advertised their goods from both sides of the street.
Then Ernest suddenly stopped.
His eyes landed on another stall.
This one wasn’t selling olive oil.
It was selling paper.
Stacks and stacks of paper.
The stall owner was busy negotiating with a merchant when Ernest picked up one of the sheets.
Immediately, he frowned.
"What is it?" Hollen asked.
Ernest rubbed the sheet between his fingers. "The quality is terrible. For something every business uses daily, the paper is surprisingly rough. We use parchment for our official documents right?"
"Yes, what about it?"
"Well, it’s expensive. Perhaps this one, despite the quality, can be used for internal records."
Hollen looked at the paper.
He never paid much attention to paper.
Paper was paper.
You wrote on it.
That was about the extent of his expertise.
"What exactly are you thinking?"
Ernest turned the sheet over.
"The company is growing."
"That much is obvious."
"Then our paperwork is growing too. We don’t need expensive parchment for every single document."
The Helmarte Soap Works generated an absurd amount of paperwork these days.
A year ago, Hollen could keep everything in his head.
Now?
They needed entire shelves of records.
"We’d save money," Hollen admitted.
"Quite a lot of money."
The stall owner finally noticed them.
"Gentlemen, interested in paper?"
"Possibly," Ernest replied.
The merchant smiled. "It’s locally produced and it is cheap compared to parchments. How much do you need?"
"How much do you sell these for? And is it per sheet or per bundle?" Ernest asked.
The merchant immediately smiled.
"Per bundle."
That got Ernest’s attention.
"How many sheets?"
"One hundred sheets per bundle."
Ernest picked up one of the stacks and estimated its thickness.
Not bad.
Not bad at all.
"And the price?"
"Forty riels."
Hollen blinked. "Forty?"
"Locally produced paper isn’t expensive."
Ernest immediately started doing arithmetic in his head.
Forty riels.
One hundred sheets.
Less than half a riel per sheet.
Compared to parchment, that was almost absurdly cheap.
He looked toward Hollen.
"We’re buying some."
"How much?"
"A lot."
The forge owner sighed.
"Of course we are."
The merchant laughed.
"How many bundles?"
Ernest thought for a moment.
The Helmarte Soap Works was generating records every day.
Purchase orders.
Payroll.
Supplier invoices.
Inventory reports.
Production logs.
Expansion plans.
And that was before the three new factories.
"Fifty bundles."
The merchant nearly dropped the stack he was carrying.
"Fifty?"
"Yes."
"That would be five thousand sheets."
"I know."
Ernest was already thinking ahead.
Five thousand sheets sounded like a lot.
For an ordinary household.
For a growing corporation?
Not really.
Especially not one preparing to manage four factories spread across the kingdom.
The merchant recovered quickly.
"I can arrange that."
"Good. Please deliver it to Helmarte Soap Works," Ernest said.
"Helmarte Soap Works?" The merchant repeated. "The place where they produce those soaps?"
"We are the owners," Ernest coolly replied.
The merchant froze.
Actually, that reaction was becoming surprisingly common.
First Alejandro.
Now this paper merchant.
For several seconds, the man simply stared at the two of them.
Then his eyes widened.
"Wait."
"You?"
He pointed toward Ernest.
"The young master?"
"Yes."
"The one who invented the soap?"
"More or less."
The merchant looked completely stunned.
Then he suddenly laughed.
"Gods above, what is happening today?"
Hollen folded his arms.
"That’s usually the reaction."
The merchant shook his head repeatedly.
He wasn’t doubting them anymore.
The clothes.
The carriage parked nearby.
The confidence.
It all fit.
And besides, nobody randomly claimed to own Helmarte Soap Works.
Not these days.
The company was becoming famous across Belfast.
Then the merchant’s expression changed.
Immediately.
Because he realized something.
This wasn’t merely a customer.
This was an industrial customer.
A very large one.
"Master Ernest," he said carefully, "if Helmarte Soap Works is purchasing paper regularly, perhaps we can discuss a long-term arrangement."
That got Ernest’s attention.
"A long-term arrangement?"
"Yes."
The merchant nodded.
"I own a paper workshop outside the city."
Interesting.
Very interesting.
"Where do you source your materials?" Ernest asked.
"Mostly discarded cloth, linen scraps, old garments, and some plant fibers."
Ernest immediately became interested.
"How much paper can your workshop produce?"
The merchant scratched his chin.
"Currently? Around three thousand sheets per week."
Ernest mentally calculated.
Not bad.
Not amazing.
But not bad.
Especially for a medieval operation.
"Okay, we can consider that offer. You can come to our office to discuss that. Preferably, next week."
"Thank you, Master Ernest."
The merchant bowed respectfully.
Ernest noticed something.
The man’s excitement wasn’t coming from the fifty bundles of paper.
It was coming from the possibility of a long-term contract.
Ernest couldn’t blame him.
Long-term contracts changed businesses.
Stable customers meant stable revenue.
Stable revenue meant expansion.
The paper merchant was probably already thinking about hiring more workers.
Maybe even building a larger workshop.
"Next week," Ernest repeated. "Bring samples of your best paper, your production records, and your current prices."
The merchant immediately nodded.
"I’ll have everything prepared."
