BBook 2: Chapter 36: Domain.

BBook 2: Chapter 36: Domain.

I was not the first one awake the next morning. While my habit of early risings had me up and about before every other worker on the farm, this was not true today. Even as the sun glimpsed over the horizon, still hidden by the trees, there was already movement by the storehouse.

The overnight crew I had sent to Hullbretch had returned, cart full and horses idly grazing. Sleep being blinked away, I scratched at my ribs through the over-large shirt I wore and lumbered downhill to meet them.

The scent of tiredness and irritation reached me halfway, and I soon learned why. The driver, a short and stout man whos name I had never learned, was keen to tell me that the toll had been raised. The toll that, officially, the town of Hullbretch was unaware of and did not sanction. That toll out on the road far from the walls that he, the driver, knew the guards that ran shifts on it.

So someone is looking to make a quick coin from the adventurers streaming towards the dungeon. I concluded. I myself had not been subject to the toll when I had passed through, yet I knew where it was. Had nearly forgotten about it in the recent hubbub.

You paid for this out of your pocket? I slipped in the question, eyebrow raised. I had only sent along so much coin, and all of it had been allocated to specific goods.

Aye. He confirmed. Rather painfully, I might add.

Youll be well compensated for that, I promised. All that you spend and a little more. I sent you out on farm business, and the farm will provide what it cost.

Be that as it may, we werent able to get everythin asked for. The human winced, already rough face wrinkling up even further.

Bloody prices have gone up again! The second wagoneer pitched in as he trundled past, load of goods in hand. His name, I remembered. Tyl, son of Fyl. I swear theyre chagrin more just because they can. Theres no famine, no drought, no Gods-blaster reason everythin should be so high!

With that, he disappeared inside to unload, and my own expression became displeased. Not at these men, for this was outside their control.

Is there not someone who regulates this, ensures that people are not swindled of their coin? That particular feeling was what clouded my thoughts now. Simply because I had a hoard of coin did not mean I was content to waste any of it.

The baron would normally ensure that, but he remains preoccupied and in his fortress.

The streets of Hullbretch overflow with his soldiers. Came the quiet remark as the third and final member of the wagon crew handed down a parcel. Theyre searchin door to door. For somethin or someone.

I had some suspicion who. But my silence was kept on that. The lady Ramsey-Pratt and her planned treason was a bombshell of information valuable to either side. The human had overplayed her hand, and I was not yet sure if she would attempt to silence me for my refusal. This could be the last sliver of knowledge I needed to garner Ironmoors favor and keep him as a shield between myself and, well, most of what threatened to ail me. But any path I chose now would mean committing to it.

While I did not think highly of her of her house, I knew that even leeches like her had the disposition to be dangerous. And a man already facing down so much did not need another enemy thrown onto the mound. Far as I could be concerned, the House Ramsey-Pratt were all just scavengers, circling around the Baron, ready for a sign of weakness.

All available hands were redirected to the planting of the orchard, myself carefully supervising. Only a few workers were given other tasks, such as delivering a contracted load of goods up to the Verdant Dawn camp. An order of healing milk and acid that my deal with the monster hunters required I deliver every few weeks.

I was then confused several hours later when the full cart returned.

The young man who came up to me smelled nervous, almost frightened as he handed me a sealed letter. Slight dread outweighed by annoyance, I tore it open and unfolded the parchment, stains of dirt being left behind.

A short, curt notification informed me that my trade deal with the Verdant Dawn was henceforth terminated and my services would be no longer required. Signed by the camps current commander.

To say I was unhappy was an understatement.

I had a deal. An agreement. While not necessary, it was a source of revenue and a means to establish my name. It got my product out and got people talking about me.

For a moment I held on, anger bubbling inside as I grasped at straws to come up with a plan to have this reinstated.

The moment passed and slowly, painfully, I let it go. I could not force someone to trade with me. If my presence outweighed the help they received from my goods, then that was their problem. There were more people that would happily take what I sold. Still, it hurt just a little. After everything I had done for those men and women, to so callously dismiss my services stung.

Still, carts could still go up the mountain. My relationship with the baron was tenuous. Neutral at best. But he was a man that lacked in stupidity, and I might instead make a deal with his men. The red fort at the mountains peak was a much longer trip for my crews, but it housed soldiers and adventurers alike.

I had not paid much attention to its happenings, but Ishila assured me that it was filled with delvers and slayers that would happily shell out coin to keep their lives. No longer contracted to the Verdant Dawn, my shipments were now free to make their way into other hands, and the coin of many more pockets back to mine.

The more these thoughts ran through my head, the better my mood became. Without a contracted goal to meet, I could instead divvy up the available supply and begin shipping to Hullbretch as well. It might not be the most optimal idea to sell potent healing potions to the barons forces, but it might further edge me off the mans list of potential enemies.

A second, plain letter was handed up to me once I snapped out of this stupor.

The writing here was neat and meticulous. My eyes ran over the page and took in what was being said. Raffnyk, my friend, had once again bent his oath to help me. His words explained that the termination had to happen. While he would have preferred she handle it with more grace, the Verdant Dawn had made the decision to pack up and leave the area.

The coming troubles, tensions with Ironmoor and the dungeon had already been enough proverbial heat for them. The arrival of the dwarves was the final nail in a half-closed coffin, and the company was being ordered out of the country.

That saddened me more than losing the contract. Coin could be replaced, gained again and worked for. Good friends, real friends, those could not. Raffnyk had been nothing but loyal and honest in all his dealings with me, and it saddened me dearly to see a good man go.