Joel stared at him, examining the crushed remains of the Hellwolves that Florian and Anna had unceremoniously dumped on the floor in front of his station.

“What did you do to them, Warrior?” Joel asked, his voice stiff and almost robotic, hiding almost perfectly the surprise that still managed to worm through his words.

Florian spared a quick look at Anna, who shook her head to remind him of their agreement. Unless he wanted to forfeit more of his hard-earned meat, he’d have to be the one to deal with Joel. He tried a smile. “I hit them hard with Bludgeon over here,” he patted his mace with loving affection, “and used a bit of magic to make it hit just a little bit harder.”

The trader – or was it a salesman? – nodded sagely, as if that made perfect sense. “Ah, I understand now. Unfortunately, these carcasses will have reduced value, as your attacks have destroyed their fangs.”

“Their fangs?”

“Every part of these beasts is worth something, Warrior. Not that I’d expect you to know that,” Joel murmured that last bit, entirely too loudly for Florian to not hear it. Anna suppressed a smirk next to him, and Florian decided that looking to her for any more guidance would only amuse her more.

“I can give you two pounds.”

Florian had never heard such a lowball offer before. There were negotiations, and there was this. Even he knew that. “There’s eight pounds there, Joel. I want four.”

“Lord Jones has quotas to meet, and it’s my duty to make sure that they are met. Without those fangs, I’m afraid that two pounds is the best I can offer you.” And just like that, negotiations were over. Florian fumed, but he realistically had no other option. Even Anna grimaced, now resonating more with Florian’s misery than finding fun in it.

“Fine. Have it sent to the cafeteria,” Florian said, turning on his heel and exiting the busy warehouse. So lost was he in his thoughts of just how much he was scammed that he collided with one of the half-dozen or so girls that ran around the building. She fell to the ground in a heap, dropping the heavy crate that she had been carrying.

Fruits – the real, fresh kinds – spilled out of the crate. Florian stared at them for a moment, seeing rhubarb, cherries, and even apricots on the floor in front of him. That kind of food was worth its weight in gold these days. The majority of people got by on grains through bread, some kind of mealy slop, and whatever creative creation people could make out of wheat and water.

Shaking himself from his stupor, he helped the girl pick up her cargo. Her look of annoyance quickly changed into one of thanks. Putting the last fruit in the crate, Florian apologized and asked the girl where the fruit was meant to go.

“Well, I’m not entirely sure, but if I had to guess,” she lowered her voice in a conspiratorial whisper, “Lord Jones will be having them for dinner tonight. Oh, and no worries about that; it happens to the best of us.”

And then she was off, the teenaged girl entirely too waifish. It must have been a Herculean effort to transport those goods in particular, not only because trying to lift that kind of weight would have been difficult even for Florian back before he’d become a blacksmith, but also because the food was right there. He watched as she disappeared, seeing to her duties with her utmost. Florian didn’t miss the look Joel levied at the poor girl, his glare a sign of trouble to come.

“A douchebag, that one,” Anna shrugged her shoulders. “But he’s not usually this bad. Jones must be demanding a lot.”

Florian didn’t rightly know, but he couldn’t imagine that the thin, hawkish man was anything other than a stain on decent trade ethics. “Why don’t we just carve up the wolves ourselves?”

Anna looked at him for a moment and sighed. “Everyone always asks that when they first become Warriors. There’s a couple problems with that idea,” she started, this time quieter than her previous criticisms, which had been on the silent end to begin with. “The first is that we don’t really have the tools nor the space to butcher them in the tents or the barracks. The second is that doing so would bypass the tax system around here, and that’s loads more trouble than it’s worth. Believe me.”

She said the last of her spiel with a special gravity, her tone telling Florian that she spoke from experience. Florian wasn’t exactly eager to get kicked out of yet another castle, so he understood that there wasn’t anything he could do. “Well, anyways, a pound of that two is yours tonight. With interest, I’ll even let you take a little bit of my pound.”

Grinning, Anna gave him a thumbs-up. “Now that’s a trade deal I can get behind!” Anna practically skipped her way back to the wall, skillfully dodging any rag-wearing children that ran past, baskets in their hands. Florian grinned and did his best to follow, which he was getting better at. The past few months had changed him. And then his right ankle twinged in pain.

Well, he wouldn’t be doing any more acrobatics in the near future, that was sure. And at least for the rest of the day, he’d let Anna and the Leeds Warriors have their fun. It had been foolish of him to trust so much in what was a relatively untested ability. He wished he could have just smote the beasts with a fireball, but as Theo had determined in their travels, the orbs of flame were harmless against the golden scales. Lost in his thoughts for the second time that morning, Florian lost Anna. He sighed; this was going to be a long day.

It was only made longer when a man wearing what oddly enough looked like robes intercepted him on his path to the wall. The man was overweight, with a beer belly hanging over pants that were many times too tight. Still, the man spoke with a certain kind of elegance, an imitation perhaps of those period dramas on TV.

“Mister Cale, his Lordship Wilfred Jones and the Esteemable Theodosius Norundyos bid you come to the keep for lunch.”

And just like that, Florian definitely wasn’t going to be able to learn anything from his fellow Warriors that morning. Well, looking at it from a positive angle, Florian wouldn’t have to find Anna. And he’d get some fruit out of it, probably. He just hoped that Theo wasn’t as grouchy as he had been at the vineyard.