One Moo'r Plow

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 who’s 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.”

“You’ll 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 weren’t 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 they’re chagrin’ more just because they can. There’s 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. “They’re 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 Ironmoor’s 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.

Coin and news aside, however, my goods had finally arrived.

Snuggled away in the wagon’s corner, padded and covered with a tarp to ensure sudden rainfall did not spoil them. Bag after bag of luxury seeds shipped from across kingdoms at a premium price were handed down and careful carried within. A significant chunk of my coin had been sunk into this investment, and I hoped they would be the farm’s future.

As it stood, I currently produced three commodities. Acid, only of interest to a niche group of adventurers and alchemists. Healing milk, for which there stayed an incessant demand, and crops. Wheat and grain were all pumped back into my farm, ground down for flour by a mill too far away or fed to the cows. I needed more product to expand and garner more trade deals.

And so, I turned to fruit.

For anyone else, this would have been a horrible purchase. Sweetened honey apples that took far too long to grow for what little fruit they produced and attracted monsters from their scent alone. Something similar to a mango that required horrendous amounts of water throughout its growing life but produced large fruits with juicy flesh that reinvigorated those that ate it. Popular with adventurers and delvers for the significant burst of energy it provided, but always too pricey to justify.

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Grown only in the loamiest, wettest soils. Or so the salesman had tried to tell me when I had purchased the seeds in bulk. While adamant that it was a terrible idea, he had still taken my coin and his commission and placed the order. Now, they were here, and would soon bear fruit.

I possessed something that entirely circumvented the lengthy growing season required for either one of these. A skill that accelerated crop growth by a very, very significant margin thanks to my riches. That and a very large, very sturdy wall to keep the monsters out.

With the last of the crops harvested inside the wall, the land that had grown golden stalks of wheat until now had been tilled and readied for something new. Come the workday, most of my workers would be hard at work seeding the orchard and routing irrigation from the river. While I did not envy the lads assigned to that, work was work.

I myself had plans to head out and oversee crop planting in more of the fields outside the main farm. With construction finished here, Lidya and her crew would begin erecting fences and storage towers on said fields behind the planters. They had perhaps a day or two until the sprouting began thanks to my skills, but I had been assured this was time enough.

Cart unloaded, I sent the men off to the sleeping dorms and finished up myself. Horses brushed down and cart tucked away, I released the animals back to pasture and set off to find some breakfast.

It was there that I found Sean and his morning crew. Promoted from the fields to the walls, the guards under his commands ate before shifts would be rotated. Greetings given in passing, I walked up to the human and informed him that I would require additional guards for the fields. One in particular.

“Sure they couldn’t just watch from the walls?” He grumbled between bites. “Got more’n enough of the louts anyhow.”

“I’d prefer a few in the orchard. Once planting and fencing are completed, I’ll need four or so guards stationed there to patrol it.”

It’s not that I didn’t trust all my workers. If I would have suspected any of them of anything they would have been dismissed already. But ventures like these called for proper security. A not-insignificant amount of coin had been spent on the procurement and import of these fruits, and I would ensure that every ounce of coin invested in them was returned. Left unguarded, it would be all too easy for someone to slip a few into their bags and then make off with them to sell for side profit.

“Your call.” He shrugged. With that, I grabbed my own breakfast from Zheli and got busy with the day.

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 camp’s 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 mountain’s 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 baron’s forces, but it might further edge me off the man’s 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.

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