The Hunter’s Guide to Monsters - Chapter 96

The second day after arriving in Rakaens, the herbalists took their herbs to market. The orders from the town shops had been delivered the da before.

Krow, as designated weapon carrier, accompanied them to the market.

He’d already finished most of his business in Rakaens – replenished his bullets and Monstrepel Sachets, bought several more cylinders, and even found some quality Map Pieces for the kingdoms in the foothills and plains.

So many place-names struck much familiarity within him that he had to shake off brief nostalgia.

He’d also managed to spirit-bind his starting shirt and trousers, plus his second revolver, at a Grenod Temple near the street of scholars.

Gah, the chant for a Grenod binding was so wordy! And he had to do it three times! Krow had to pay for a syllabic copy so he wouldn’t make a mistake.

The fresh market in Rakaens opened every day, not a common feature in most towns. People often had a kitchen garden for their own use, after all.. The average draculkar raised their own meat and spices.

It spoke to the amount of travelers passing through Rakaens that they could sustain a daily market.

Krow hefted a basket of frond-filled herbs off the cart and into the rented stall space.

Two people manned the stall today. Jarihar and Qemelai were some years younger than Krow’s physical age.

Apart from Menrike, they were the youngest of the group.

Hulach and most of the others were off gathering supplies and items the villagers needed. The shops in Cerkanst had sent them for new stock as well.

The rest under Jamutaltei dealt with the supply contracts the village held with various entities in Rakaens.

“Pardon me, do you sell tea?” A woman in the loose white tunic and pantaloons of the desert people stopped by the stall.

Qemelai intercepted immediately, tossing her basket at Krow, who protested with a grunt as he caught it on top of the chest of herbal oils already in his hands.

“Of course, most of our herbs can be made into teas! Would you like something relaxing? The noblesse camamyl flower, steeped in hot or cold water, relaxes the mind and soothes the heart!”

She offered a pale yellow bloom. “The scent is calming, isn’t it?”

The woman smiled at her earnestness, taking the flower. “So it is.”

Jarihar added, from behind Qemelai, “If you crush the flowers into paste, they can make your skin look even younger and softer. The customer of course, does not need it, but perhaps she could recommend the method to her elders or friends?”

He handed her another flower. Her smile widened.

The bandages on her wrist showed for a brief moment as she accepted the flower.

Qemelai pretended not to notice and asked, “Is there a specific tea you’re looking for?”

“Camellis Red, in fact.”

Krow glanced over. A tea most known for its pain relief and sleeping aid properties.

Qemelai looked indecisive, then determined. “May I suggest an alternative?”

“Certainly.”

“Bloodstripe lavender can also be steeped for a tea. The taste is refreshing, the scent alleviates stress. It increases the vitality of the organs, reduces swelling and pain. Of course, it is gentle enough not to interfere with potions. Unlike Camellis Red, it can be drunk multiple times a day.”

Jarihar obligingly took a basket from the stores, and snapped off a sprig of bloodstripe lavender to offer. “A sample just for you, my lady. If you keep it by your bedside, you’ll surely have good dreams!”

Krow glanced over, almost laughed at the double act the two were putting on.

He’d been around them enough by now to know that under those naïve-looking faces, there hid a pair of troublemakers. In addition, both received training from a retired Cerkanst soldier, in preparation for the Guard exam.

They were not so naïve as they looked.

He kept his amusement to a smile.

Qemelai glanced over as Jarihar took over charming the customer, sent him a look.

How could she tell? He was wearing a mask.

He unloaded the last basket, waved at them, and set out to check on the others.

The fresh market had a lot of herb sellers.

Not surprising, really. Herbs were lucrative, and farming villages could simply be remade into herb-growing villages. The gap between farmer and herb-grower wasn’t large.

At least when talking about the more common herbs.

Krow eyed the crumbling dried leaves at a stall he passed.

Cerkanst still held an edge in quality.

But the village diminished by the year. How long until other herbalist villages caught up?

A few years yet, judging by the street of workshops still in Cerkanst.

By then, Krow hoped it would have recovered to the reputation it had centuries ago.

He paused to watch one of the herbalists negotiate bags of seed from the caravan stalls. He stepped closer, ran a hand through one of the sacks.

Seed rained from his fingers.

[Sunslip Grass Seed]

[Quality: S][Uncommon]

[A product of farms belonging to Damon Trask.]

A player farm?

Of course craftmasters already had land. To craftmaster farmers, did farms count as ‘workshops’?

More and more, it seemed like the battle-centric nature of the current Redlands was indeed to allow warmasters to gain traction in the game, more than anything else.

The craftmaster system wasn’t built for wargames. The kludging that occurred to reconcile two different systems must have been epic and frustrating.

From future reviews though, it appeared to have gone well for them.

Sounds of commotion took Krow’s attention from the seeds pouring through his fingers. He dusted his gloves off.

Wait, was that Hulach’s voice?

He exchanged glances with the herb-grower, then headed across the market square.

“…farmer? Hah! Your herbs are just like any other herbs, why should you block other people from selling in your sphere of business?”

Hulach laughed. “I think you’re mistaking Cerkanst for, what was that village that got sanctioned again, for that exact accusation…eh, Tamvost?”

Murmurs from the watchers who gathered to watch the fun reached Krow’s ears. They agreed it was Tamvost.

“What are you saying about Tamvost?! My father would never do such a thing!”

“Oh!” Hulach looked apologetic. “It was you? I hope you weren’t inconvenienced too much by the bans.”

“No!” The accuser sputtered. “I mean–”

“That’s good!” Hulach clapped the other on a shoulder, as if he wasn’t spewing malice against Hulach and his village. “It’s great you got through the sanctions without hardship.”

Krow lifted a brow against the audible scoffs from multiple directions.

“You mean they’re selling to the dark markets,” muttered a voice nearby.

“Are you implying something?” the accuser, a draculkar in his thirties, squawked. He knocked Hulach’s hand away.

“I’m not?” Hulach looked confused. “What should I be implying?”

“That we’re selling underground!”

Krow sighed, relaxed his vigilance. It was just an idiot.

Hulach looked shocked. “You are?”

“No!”

“You said it yourself?”

That pushed the idiot to the brink.

“I challenge! Tamvost against Cerkanst!” He gripped the sword at his waist, meaning obvious. “If I win, you’ll give me one of your supply contracts. If you win, I won’t speak a word against your village again!”

Oh.

It obviously had been too early to relax.

“Isn’t that too uneven?” called one of the shopkeepers. “If Cerkanst wins, you give them a contract as well!”

Was that even possible?

“Can you even accomplish that?” hooted one of the herbalists. “Kid, your mouth is running faster than your legs.”

“Am I someone to do that?” The draculkar took a scroll from his pouch, threw it at the herbalist. “Do I look like someone to do that?!”

Hulach leaned over. After a moment, he hummed. “It’s a real contract.”

He glanced upward. Krow looked as well.

On a balcony above, Jamutaltei and a couple of the older herbalists had their heads together, arguing. Jamutaltei nodded to them with a resigned look.

Her eyes roamed the market, settled on Krow. She blinked at seeing him looking toward them. She looked at Hulach’s group, then him.

There was a question there.

This technically wasn’t one of the duties of a designated weapon carrier.

But reputation was important in trade.

Obviously, there was something happening in the background. If they backed away now, it would weaken their position in Rakaens.

Krow didn’t need to ask what the specifics were. He had not dealt with the old man’s customers for nothing. Trade disputes were brutal.

Even if he didn’t know that Cerkanst’s trade was being threatened, he’d still do this.

He had already thrown his lot in with the village.

He nodded.