“I am Sirca, Lord Grithinshield. Mr. Elmsworth said you needed a scribe, so I am here to be of assistance.”
Linvin looked at Gradon and asked, “Do you trust him?”
“We have used the company he works for in the past and never had a problem,” Gradon answered.
“I asked you if you trust him!” Linvin said sternly.
Gradon and Sirca looked at each other sheepishly. “Yes, I do,” Gradon answered. “Your father used him in the past and never had a problem.”
Linvin addressed Sirca directly, “How much do you make where you are working now?”
“Well sir, I am paid by how often my services are needed. In a good week I can make ten gold pharrings.”
Linvin stood with his face so close to Sirca’s that one could not fit a paper between them. “That was probably only one week that you made that much, was it not?”
Sirca maintained eye contact and answered calmly, “Yes, sir. Most weeks, I make about five to seven pharrings.”
Linvin’s angered expression turned into a smile. “Bold, but with integrity. I like that. Good, now sit at that desk over there and take a letter.” Sirca did as he was told. “You will write your employer a letter of resignation. You will now be the exclusive scribe to Linvin Grithinshield and the Grithinshield Trading Company. As an employee of the Grithinshield Trading Company you will earn a salary of twenty gold pharrings each and every week regardless of the amount of work you do. At the bottom, I suggest you sign your name.”
Sirca was speechless. He looked at Gradon and then Linvin. “But sir –”
“Do you accept?” Linvin asked forcefully.
“Yes,” answered Sirca, “but I must say, you could have a whole team of scribes for this price. I dare say they may be better than me. Why would you do this?”
Linvin sat in his father’s chair and lit his pipe. “Because my father trusted you, Gradon trusts you and therefore I trust you. I do not want a group of people around me whom I cannot trust. Much better a few that I can and do. Now, go take that to your employer and come right back. I have many letters for you to write.”
Sirca was so excited that he did not know if he should bow or shake his hand. After a moment of indecision he headed out the door.
“Oh, one last thing,” Linvin called after him.
Sirca meekly poked his head back in through the door. “Yes, Mr. Grithinshield?” his quivering voice asked.
“You do understand the meaning of trust, do you not?” Linvin asked.
“Yes.”
“Good,” said Linvin, “because someone who betrays my trust will be shown no forgiveness and no mercy. Are we clear on this point?”
Again Sirca whispered, “Yes.” With that he was on his way to turn in his resignation.
Upon returning, Linvin dictated two letters.
Linvin looked at Gradon and asked, “Do you trust him?”
“We have used the company he works for in the past and never had a problem,” Gradon answered.
“I asked you if you trust him!” Linvin said sternly.
Gradon and Sirca looked at each other sheepishly. “Yes, I do,” Gradon answered. “Your father used him in the past and never had a problem.”
Linvin addressed Sirca directly, “How much do you make where you are working now?”
“Well sir, I am paid by how often my services are needed. In a good week I can make ten gold pharrings.”
Linvin stood with his face so close to Sirca’s that one could not fit a paper between them. “That was probably only one week that you made that much, was it not?”
Sirca maintained eye contact and answered calmly, “Yes, sir. Most weeks, I make about five to seven pharrings.”
Linvin’s angered expression turned into a smile. “Bold, but with integrity. I like that. Good, now sit at that desk over there and take a letter.” Sirca did as he was told. “You will write your employer a letter of resignation. You will now be the exclusive scribe to Linvin Grithinshield and the Grithinshield Trading Company. As an employee of the Grithinshield Trading Company you will earn a salary of twenty gold pharrings each and every week regardless of the amount of work you do. At the bottom, I suggest you sign your name.”
Sirca was speechless. He looked at Gradon and then Linvin. “But sir –”
“Do you accept?” Linvin asked forcefully.
“Yes,” answered Sirca, “but I must say, you could have a whole team of scribes for this price. I dare say they may be better than me. Why would you do this?”
Linvin sat in his father’s chair and lit his pipe. “Because my father trusted you, Gradon trusts you and therefore I trust you. I do not want a group of people around me whom I cannot trust. Much better a few that I can and do. Now, go take that to your employer and come right back. I have many letters for you to write.”
Sirca was so excited that he did not know if he should bow or shake his hand. After a moment of indecision he headed out the door.
“Oh, one last thing,” Linvin called after him.
Sirca meekly poked his head back in through the door. “Yes, Mr. Grithinshield?” his quivering voice asked.
“You do understand the meaning of trust, do you not?” Linvin asked.
“Yes.”
“Good,” said Linvin, “because someone who betrays my trust will be shown no forgiveness and no mercy. Are we clear on this point?”
Again Sirca whispered, “Yes.” With that he was on his way to turn in his resignation.
Upon returning, Linvin dictated two letters.
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