Steelforged Legacy 2 - Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Finishing his meal in the common room yielded no more information for Casey, other than a continual and growing irritation with the four men that sat nearby. Their conversation had eventually devolved from planning how they would earn a place with the Bronze Fist to what they would do when they went on their first raid.

Unfortunately, having to listen to their crude jokes and plans soured Casey’s stomach to the good food, so he just ate as quickly as he could and got up.

The movement drew the attention of the blonde, but Casey ignored him and collected his things to head up to his room. He felt the eyes digging into his back as he walked away, but none of the men said anything or even approached him, which he was grateful for as Casey was unsure if he could have kept his cool.

The room that he had rented was as simple as the others he’d taken in the past. A narrow bed sat against one wall stacked with thick blankets and a straw pillow. There was a table set under a window that looked out over the street, which was noticeably busier now than it had been when he had come into town. A small baldrsteinn sat on the table inside a metal shutter like a lantern that would allow him to dim the room for sleeping.

It took Casey only a minute to drop off his packs and shuffle around their contents so that he had on him the items he was willing to trade and any valuables he didn’t want to leave behind. Internally, Casey could hear the quiet grumbling of Maude, who was just as disgusted as he was at the words of the men in the common room. He waited until he was out onto the street, though, before he spoke up.

Maude, are attitudes like theirs common? I know I didn’t hear anything like that while I was with the Silver Hammer, but ever since I crossed into the Bronze Fist lands, I’ve been hearing things that bother me, Casey asked as he walked down the street. While traveling, he scanned buildings on either side for signs of the sort of shop he was looking for on his way to the center square of the town where the general market was.

No, thank all the powers that be. Drengr may rule by dint of strength, but they know what will happen if the common man turns against them. And brutality such as they were describing is the kind of thing that will escalate into clan wars.

Skirmishes and raids have their own code of conduct that is expected of those taking part, and do happen with regularity despite the risks involved. It’s one way that a clan can grow in power besides cultivating strong drengr from inside their own ranks.

Casey thought over her words for a few moments as he came around a corner and spotted the sprawling market, having heard the rumble of conversation and smelled the cooking food at the stalls. Angling towards it, he began to think over what amongst his supplies to refresh first while in town.

Seems like something that is easy to abuse, unless there are adjudicators for raids like that? 

Maude was silent for a time as Casey immersed himself into the crowd of market-goers, pausing to buy some dried fruit at one stall and then a small bundle of carrots and onions to use for soup. While Magnus usually demanded a truffle if he could for a treat, Casey had a feeling the crunchy carrots would do well for the animal, too.

There aren’t any adjudicators for such raids, Maude said at last. It is simply known that if word gets back to the clan leaders, it can result in war or sanctions. If it gets as far as the High-King, then the entire clan may be declared outcast and thrown out of the Nation. Clans punish their own before it gets to that point, and pay wergild when one breaks the rules.

Rules of war? Casey snickered at that thought, pausing to study a display of iron goods. Everything from utensils to flint and steel sets sat out on the table, but no weapons. Seeing the metalwork reminded him of his desire to pick up a bow, and he got moving again while scanning for a stall or shop that might sell something like that.

The raids are not all-out war. It’s more… training? It is hard to describe, but the goals are always the exchange of materials. You can only take a thrall from those who actually fight against you, and there are only so many thralls that can be claimed in a raid. Labor is a commodity too. It is far more common for a village to be captured than for it to slowly be picked away at; the residents taken as thralls in a series of raids.

Spotting a vendor that had a small collection of bows set on a table along with a bear hide that had a number of skinning knives scattered across the top of it, Casey angled that way, slipping through the crowd with the ease of long practice. Giving out a few nods, a gentle push, several quiet words, a stronger push, and he was through the mass of people and standing in front of the small stall.

A toothless older man with a bald head and more wrinkles than he thought possible sat back in the stall, smoothing the shaft of an arrow with a curved iron tool. His hands worked with the idle surety of someone who had done this thousands of times in the past.

And what about those who don’t want to fight? Are they left in peace? Casey asked mentally, keeping the thumb of his left hand hooked over Maude’s handle while he studied the bows laid out.

No. They are expected to either fight or pay tithe. That is why the freemen pay tithe to the clans. For protection. The tithe is usually a percentage of what is owned. If you have a flock of twenty sheep, it’s expected for you to tithe two to four of those. Same with crops grown or goods produced. Each clan sets their own tithe expectations, but it’s understood that if you ask for too much, people will just leave. There are even some who use being taken as a thrall to escape a bad clan.

“You’ll want one of those three on the left, drengr,” the old man behind the counter said quietly.

Casey’s gaze snapped up to meet the man’s tired eyes and his left hand tightened where it sat on Maude at his belt. The oldster let his gaze drop to the arrow-shaft in his hand to study it a moment before setting it aside and picking up another.

“Don’t worry, I won’t mention it to anyone. For someone with your height and arm-length, these are the best options.” The man indicated the three bows that he was talking about by tapping them lightly with the end of the arrow shaft. “Trust a craftsman’s eye. They will all serve you well as long as you care for them. The arrows will handle mortal game without a problem, but if you hunt for spirit beasts, they will be harder prey.”

“Mortal game is fine. I just need something to help me feed myself while I travel,” Casey said quietly, still eying the old man.

“Seven fangs will get you a bow, two more will get you twenty arrows and a quiver,” the old man said, looking back down at the shaft he was sanding. “If you care for the arrows, they’ll last you quite some time.”

That’s a fair price for a bow. You could wait and see if you can get one cheaper elsewhere, though, Maude suggested. Since she agreed on that, Casey bent closer to the display to inspect the bows. Two were slightly longer, made of a pale wood with a fine grain, while the third was shorter and had a distinct curve to it along with a horn inlay along one side.

“This one,” he said, tapping the shorter bow and getting a grunt from the old man who set his tools aside.

“All right. You are a strapping lad, so you should have no problem drawing that one. I’ll throw in some extra strings for you as well if you get the arrows and quiver?”

Casey nodded in agreement and began digging through his pouch for coins while the old man rummaged around under his counter for a quiver and then set it, a bundle of arrows, and a small leather pouch next to the bow.

I honestly haven’t had to barter for much since coming here. The prices have been fair for the most part, Casey thought idly when he exchanged the coins with the old man.

Honestly, you could and should barter more. It makes you stand out just by accepting the first offer. But enough people notice the air of competence around you that they don’t want to cause problems. You’ll see it more when you encounter other drengr or visit the higher end shops, Maude explained as Casey got the arrows settled into the quiver and tucked the strings into his pouch. For now, he would carry the bow just in his hand, but he had plans to use some of the cordage in his pack to tie it off when he got back to the inn.

“Thank you for your business, drengr,” the old man’s voice was quiet as he settled back onto his stool. “I’d not spend too much time out and about. The clan drengr have returned from their raid and it did not go well.”

“Oh? I had only heard rumors there was one going on.” Casey blinked in surprise at the freely offered information. “In fact, the first I’d heard about it going on was a few hours ago.”

“They came through the market earlier,” the old man murmured, scanning the crowd again. “Apparently, despite their best efforts, word had leaked and the Oak Horde was ready for them. Many were injured and are at the healers right now. I would expect them to cause problems for anyone not local in order to vent their anger over the failed raid.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Casey observed the old man, curious if he could pick up on any deceit or issues in the man’s tone or manner. The stall owner just shook his head and sighed heavily.

“Just experience. You seem like a kind sort, but are obviously not a local. I can tell you walk the Road from your bearing, and I remember when those of the clan held the same pride. It’ll be another few hours before they set about to drink, so you have time.”

“Got it, I appreciate the information,” Casey bowed slightly to the shopkeeper, getting a wan smile in return, before turning and hurrying into the crowd.

Once he was a few stalls away, Casey flipped the hood of his cloak up to shield his face and let the cloth fall around his shoulders to cover his body as well.

I don’t like the sound of that. Hurry and see if you can find a shop to sell or trade the truffles.

I don’t think that’s a good idea, Maude. It’ll make us stand out more to the local folk, Casey replied silently, ducking between a few stalls and walking with a purpose. It was something he’d learned long ago, that if you walked with a purpose and acted like you belonged in a place, all too often people would just accept that as if it was fact.

Hiding in your room as well will make us stand out. Getting more supplies and information is important. If you get another warning from that shop owner, or hear any talk about this, then we will know it’s not just one old man spreading rumors. He could hear the concern in Maude’s tone, and blew her a kiss mentally. Flirt. There, off to your right. That shop has a qi animal on the sign, so I bet they deal in those goods.

Casey glanced to his right, peering between two stalls to a large building on the side of the square that had rather ostentatious carvings on the pillars that supported the doors. A large wooden sign hung over the door with a shimmering image of some kind of bird. Squinting as he approached, he frowned up at it.

“The Iron Duck? What kind of name is that?”

<><><>

As it turned out, the shop actually had a small cage of the spirit beasts just inside the door. Iron Duck’s were just… bizarre looking. The animals chimed rather than quacked, and Casey could see the deep scratches in the cage floor and walls from the razor-sharp feathers the waterfowl had.

He tried not to stare at them, but it was utterly weird to see something like that moving around. The shimmer of the metallic feathers was a strange counterpoint to the brightly colored heads and feet of the birds.

“Welcome! Were you looking for anything in particular today, good sir?” A gruff voice called out to Casey from his left and he turned to find a short man of middling age standing there in a neat tunic of the same bright green as the Iron Duck’s heads.

“Uh… Yeah, actually. Sorry, I’d just never heard of a duck made of iron before and they are rather distracting.” Casey gestured to the animals, who were chiming at each other, producing a noise not unlike a bicycle bell ringing.

“It’s fine. That reaction is normal for those who come into my shop. It’s really only their feathers that are made of iron at this level. My family has been working to breed the Iron Duck’s for years, but haven’t been having much luck. Those three are the only ones we have. If they don’t start producing eggs soon, I’m going to finally give in and sell them to the clan cooks,” the man said with a laugh, sending a mock glare at the ducks, who chimed angrily back at him. “So what can I do for you?”

“I was hoping to look at any cores you had on hand, and ask how your village handles the disposal of Fomori cores?” Casey turned his attention to the short man fully now, doing his best to ignore the distraction of the odd creatures in their cage.

“Cores, I do have a couple of. The clan drengr brought in a few elemental cores last week, freshly harvested! I only got my hands on them because they needed to trade for some supplies for a raid they had planned. Fomori ones just get handed over to the clan drengr and they deal with them.”

Casey had to suppress a snarl at the mention of elemental cores. Instead, he nodded genially and gestured for the man to lead the way. The shopkeeper turned on his heel; the motion sending his short brown hair swaying, and strode deeper into the shop.

Most of the shelves held various things, from armor and weapons, decorations, meditation aids, and they even passed an armored cabinet with labels that marked it as herbal storage.

“How many of these elemental cores do you have?” Casey asked, doing his best to be offhanded in his inquiry as the man reached a narrow counter in the back of the room and slid behind it. There was a door tucked into the corner behind the counter and the man headed that way.

“I have three on hand, as well as a dozen lesser spirit beast cores. Were you interested in the beast cores as well?” The shopkeeper gave Casey an oily smile that didn’t reach his eyes and Casey had to yank back on his irritation.

“That depends. I have some things I want to sell as well. Depending on what those are worth, I might be willing to get a few of the cores. They make for easy trade goods while traveling, and don’t have the habit of going bad.” Casey reaching into his hip pouch brought the man to a stop, and the vendor walked back down the counter with an expectant look on his face.

“Well, let us see what you have. I can give you a fair price for most things, but I cannot guarantee I will buy just anything after all.” The man’s respectful tone was shifting slowly into a derisive one, and he gave Casey another look over, judging him based on his travel-stained clothes.

Rather than respond, Casey extracted the wrapped parcel that held the uncut truffles he’d collected a few days previously. After Erik’s enthusiastic trade for so much salt, Casey had decided to keep some extra aside in hopes of trade. He’d still dried a fair amount of them for his own use, but this bundle held four times what he’d traded to Erik for the salt.

He set the bundle down and carefully unfolded the waxed canvas to reveal the mound of rough black orbs. The derisive look on the merchant’s face shifted to one of surprise and he bent to sniff the air before that surprise became greed.

“Oh, these are good… I think we can come to an agreement on the value here. Did you want to do a direct barter or include coin?”

Casey debated it for a moment. Knowing that elemental cores only came from actual elementals, and his experience with those creatures had been only positive, he wanted to get those three away from the merchant.

At this point, if he would take the lot of the mushrooms for those three cores, I’d call it good and walk. But I also don’t want to leave money on the table. This guy bugs me, Casey thought before glancing up at the man with a nod.

“Barter sounds fine to me. I’d be willing to do a direct trade for those three elemental cores and some other small things. Maybe some spirit beast meat if you have it.”

“Let me weigh these and see what we have here, but that sounds agreeable.” The merchant’s grin got even wider, and Casey couldn’t help but agree with the growl from Maude that echoed in his mind.