The Hunter’s Guide to Monsters - Chapter 103

The Dragonsinger Tavern was classier than the caravansary taverns – it had fresher straw on the floors.

Morumain chivvied him up to the second floor, snagged a pitcher and two cups from a server, and sat them at a private booth. “You’re the talk of the town, my friend.”

Eh?

He’d heard nothing though.

Morumain chuckled. His sharp eyes caught Krow’s confusion.

“Due to the admittedly ignoble actions of others, Rakaens is now being accused of deliberately attempting to force Cerkanst to turn over their trade contracts.”

His brows rose. “That’s a stretch..”

“Not really. The town, these last years, has made a point of favoring certain of the larger villages.”

Morumain went on to say the herb trade was diffused between a number of small villages in the area, after the monopoly Cerkanst enjoyed fell through with the destruction of the Cerkanst herb fields.

“The announcer implying that the extra challenger was from the area didn’t help,” Krow hummed.

“That’s right.”

“So people believe Rakaens plans to consolidate the local herb trade into a single village again?” If that village wasn’t Cerkanst, Krow couldn’t allow that to happen.

Morumain laughed. “If there were such plants, you definitely put them on hold! The trade councilor at the Rosetower is definitely getting overwhelmed by complaints.”

Um, really?

Krow only understood that the odds of winning that last fight were basically zero.

So his spur of the moment plan was to manufacture sympathy for Cerkanst, and maybe cast some doubt on those trying to slander the village.

He never expected it would spawn a mini-riot.

“It’s not surprising.” Morumain took a swallow of his brabat. “It’s not the first time this has happened. So a lot believe the rumor that the town’s responsible for that last fight targeting you.”

“Was it?”

“No.” Morumain snorted. “But your performance was too pitiful, my friend! Too frustrating! Not fun at all!”

Krow ignored the last part. “You seem sure it wasn’t the town?”

Morumain blinked, then smiled sheepishly. “Ah, my family is in the apothecary trade, a minor player only. We mostly source our herbs from the markets. That kind of minor.”

“It’s not minor at all to own a workshop in a major trade town.” That was true, especially a workshop that involved monster materials.

That pleased the other, even as he waved away Krow’s words. “No, no. But you still haven’t told me, are you really sorrowed by that defeat?”

He was, a bit. He lost that fight, and that rankled in the part of him that maintained a childish need for visible success.

Krow laughed silently at himself.

He didn’t even care about the tournament. And yet he felt so possessive over its victory?

He shook his head. “Not as much as people would expect.”

It seemed he achieved his goals after all.

“Good. It was a travesty.”

He eyed Morumain, sipping on his drink. “Do you know why Tamvost would target Cerkanst?”

Morumain put his drink down with a thump. “You think it was Tamvost?”

“Not the last fight.” That was an intersecting player quest, he still believed. He hoped whoever those people were, would choke on their victory. “The final bout of the tournament.”

“Oh.” Morumain looked him over, lifted a brow. “How many fights did you have in that tournament that weren’t actually about the tournament?”

“Eh.” Just the three? And Morumain, who’d been fighting just for fun. Krow shrugged.

“What do you know of Tamvost?”

“It’s an herb-growing village, attempted to throw its weight around, got sanctioned.” Krow enumerated.

“Basic. It’s also a village in the shadow of Sukgaijer Mountain. The Bandit’s Highway. It hasn’t been proven that the villages in that area cooperate with the bandit strongholds on the mountain, of course, and the numerous incidents are just typical of being so close to that lawless mountain.”

“And?”

“People are saying Tamvost is tearing itself apart, between the people who want to move the village away from Sukgaijer and those who want to stay. The head of the village has his hands full, that’s certain. He needs to unite his village, or suppress one side.”

“And he came after Cerkanst because?”

“The same reason it’s believable that Rakaens targeted Cerkanst. Your village holds the supply contract for the Arunbold apothecary.” Morumain sighed, starry-eyed. “Arunbold is the most prestigious apothecary in the borderlands. It has ties to high nobles and various trade companies.”

Krow marked the name.

“As long as Cerkanst has the contract with Arunbold, a creation of a single herb-growing village would not be profitable enough for Rakaens.”

Because Cerkanst was unaffiliated. It would not be under the authority of Rakaens.

Krow was surprised.

It looked like there were more positive points to Cerkanst than he thought.

Morumain sighed. “It’s odd though.  Tamvost shouldn’t have made a move here. They don’t have enough power for that. And if I’m correct, the head’s son lost three contracts to Cerkanst?”

“Two.”

“Two. As I was saying, Tamvost is too constrained to be throwing around that kind of recklessness. They’re banned for three years from trading in Rakaens. Not to mention the rumors of them dealing underground.”

“So they have a backer.” Krow stated. “Someone that would benefit from Cerkanst losing its contracts.”

Morumain hummed. “Too many people would benefit, really.”

Krow tapped his fingers on his thigh, thinking. “Who is the first in line for the Arunbold contract, should Cerkanst lose it?”

“Oh, I like how you think.” Morumain slouched on his chair, looking at the ceiling. “There are several places that grow herbs that approximate Cerkanst quality. But of them…Tumungast, likely. It’s a small town, but their advantage is that they’re on the trade route across the border. Arunbold trades with the cities in the foothills, so Tumungast would be the best choice.”

“And Tamvost would cooperate with them?”

“Certainly. They’re closer to Tumungast than they are to Rakaens. If Tumungast expands its herb trade in the next few years, Tamvost would gain a new market.”

“Something to think about.” It was all just speculation.

But who knew this swashbuckler-fashioned siren would discern so much?

Krow sent the other a smile. “I want to ask, would you care for a continuing cooperation?”

Morumain lifted his brows, but leaned forward. “I’m listening.”