Arum found the Bear Tribe trading post quite fascinating. Unlike Astu Centralis with permanent, well established stores lining roads where transient merchant stalls cropped up periodically, the trading post was almost the opposite. Only a few shops held any permanence: a bakery here, a restaurant there, a front for a collection of local artisans to display their wares and business information over there…. It was an open marketplace, colorful and chaotic, and it smelled delicious. Arum found himself inhaling deeply at every corner, catching whiffs of all the street foods, and commenting with Rogue about particularly interesting smells.
“Do you smell that one? It’s almost vinegar-y. Like pickled… something.”
“Mm, yeah… But it’s herbaceous too,” Rogue nodded, testing the air. “I wonder what spices they’re using.”
“Rogue, Commander, over here!” The pair turned to where a couple of Arum’s men were waving them over. “This lady is selling ducks,” came the hasty report. “She says she has a lot more she could sell, but she never brings more than a few to the market at a time.”
Rogue took the baton and entered discussions with the duck lady, asking things like “how many” and “how much” while Arum kept an eye on their surroundings. There was a healthy crowd at the trading post; Arum suspected that it was usually about this busy. His sweeping gaze took in the boardwalk along the cliff edge of the mountain shelf that the trading post was built upon and scanned an open area near a fountain where buskers were playing folksy music while people danced or clapped along. And he did a double take when he realized he recognized one of the people dancing. Not only that, but he was the last person Arum would ever expect to see dancing!
“Rogue, would you excuse me for a minute?”
“Sure,” Arum was dismissed distractedly.
Arum moved toward the fountain, mesmerized by the sight in front of him and waiting for the song to finish. “GRAVIS!” The hulking professional bodyguard took hold of his dance partner’s hand and looked around the crowd for the source of his name. “GRAVIS!” Arum repeated himself, adding a full arm wave to draw his attention.
“Arum?! What are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” Arum chortled as his old friend stepped forward to clap him on the shoulder. “The general said you’d found a girlfriend. Is this her?”
“Yeah,” Gravis cheesed, an odd look for him. “This is Belle. My wife.”
“You… your-your wife?!”
“Yeah.”
“It’s been… five months!!” Arum blinked dumbly as Belle cuddled up to Gravis and kissed him. “H-how-how… how did you convince such a beautiful woman to marry you in under five months, Gravis?!” And now that Arum was paying attention to such things, Belle really was quite lovely. If nothing else, she was immaculate, tall, possibly taller than he was, curvy, and well put together.
“Cultor, aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?” Belle asked after a moment in which Arum waited for a response and Gravis merely stared at his bride.
“Mn. Belle, this is Arum. Former Lion Tribe military.”
“Ah! An old colleague!”
“A colleague up until five months ago,” Arum corrected with a small snort.
“I’m sorry to steal him away from you,” Belle apologized without any real sincerity.
“Erm, so, Belle, catch me up,” Arum demanded awkwardly. “What happened?”
“You want to hear our love story?” Belle asked while stroking Gravis’s jawline in an unnecessarily affectionate way that spoke to their newlywed status. Arum cringed but did his best to not look like he was cringing. “Well, it was practically love at first sight! Wouldn’t you agree, Cultor?”
“Mn,” Gravis grunted in the affirmative and got kissed for it.
“Those first couple of days were… perfect, and then you came back after I thought you’d left forever and we practically spent every minute of every day together after that until you proposed and we eloped three weeks ago!”
“You eloped?” Arum asked with surprise.
Belle laughed and finally turned away from her husband to look at him. “It was so romantic. Cultor is so good to me. I had been stressing for a month trying to put plans together for a wedding that I wasn’t even happy about, and then Cultor suggested that if the wedding was making me unhappy, then we shouldn’t have one. He was so right. It was fun to rebel against all the expectations, and it was a relief not to have to worry about a wedding. Instead, I took a week off of work and we went on a romantic getaway, got married on the way and honeymooned at this adorable little inn and… well, you get the picture. It was perfect.”
An added measure of cringe merged with budding jealousy as Belle and Gravis started snogging again. “I’m happy for you.”
“How are things?” Gravis disengaged to ask.
“With what? The colony?” Arum latched onto this change of subject gladly.
“Yeah.”
“It’s been challenging but good for the most part.”
“People have been talking about it,” Gravis mentioned conversationally.
“The colony?”
“Yeah.”
“What about it?”
“It’s caused quite the kerfuffle!” Belle exclaimed, her own interest in the topic more gossipy. “It’s been a major headache for Seliga, and she’s not the only tribe leader dealing with related drama. Have you heard the rumors from the Dragon Tribe?!”
“Can’t say that I have,” Arum shook his head.
“Well, suffice it to say that the Dragon King has his hands full, what with the threat of civil war and all.”
“Civil war?!”
“But you didn’t hear that from me,” Belle said conspiratorially, placing her fingers over her lips.
“Is that not common knowledge?”
“It’s mostly speculative, but I have sources that recently confirmed those concerns.”
“I guess, living in the colony, we’ve been pretty isolated from world news. Hey, Gravis, do you have plans to bring your wife home at some point to meet the rest of the family?” Arum teased and then immediately regretted it as an undefined tension entered the air space. Belle’s lips pursed and her eyes avoided contact by studying her shoes, and Gravis’s posture was suddenly more rigid. Arum got the sense that this was the one area where their perfect, whirlwind romance maybe wasn’t quite so perfect.
“Not sure,” was all Gravis said in reply, and Belle made no effort to elaborate for him.
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
Quite desperate for a change in subject and unable to think of one, Arum made an excuse to bow out. “I should be getting back. The guys will be wondering where I ran off to by now, and I’m supposed to help with… yeah. It was really nice meeting you, Belle, and Gravis, good to see you, man. You lucky dog. Maybe I’ll see you around before we head back to the colony, but if not, want me to tell the guys your news?”
“Sure. Thanks.”
“Great. Uh, see you later.” Arum weasled indelicately out of the awkwardness and returned to where Rogue was concluding business with the duck lady.
“Give me an estimate so I can have enough money on hand,” he was saying.
“For my entire stock?!”
“Yup. You said you had a little shy of one hundred laying females — most of them raising broods still, so we’ll gladly buy those as well — and the few drakes you are looking to sell this season? I assume you have other ducks that you are keeping as your base flock.”
“W-well, I… yes. The drakes were intended for a butcher, but if you are hoping to start a flock of your own…. You really only need one drake to every four or five ducks though, and the young ones will mature in time to breed them next spring.”
“A few extra won’t hurt. I’d like to spend time talking to you about how to properly care for a flock, if that’s alright.”
“Oh, certainly. If you’re serious about buying my entire stock, I’ll even prepare instructions for you on how to raise them! You’re saving me countless hours peddling one or two birds at a time at the trading post this summer.”
“Thank you. And we would gladly accept your invitation to meet your neighbor as well, if that’s still on the table.”
“Bartig? Oh, sure! I don’t remember what he has for sale this season, but he’d probably know who has what you’re looking for, and he’d certainly know how to tell you what to look for and how to care for those little horned rascals.”
Rogue chuckled and offered the lady a hand to shake in parting. “Tomorrow morning then.”
“You have the directions. Come by any time.”
“Thank you,” Rogue turned to leave and met Arum’s eyes, acknowledging his return with a short nod before slinging an arm over his shoulder. “So! I saw that you found Gravis. How is he?”
“He’s married.”
“Married?!” Rogue laughed and withdrew his arm to better look Arum in the eyes. “Guess things worked out with that lady friend, huh? Good for him!”
“Yeah. Yeah, good for him.”
***
“Everything, Arum. We need to know everything about their life cycle from conception to birth to adulthood to breeding and all the care in between — nutrition, environmental needs, medical pitfalls, predators to watch out for…. Everything you can think of. What makes an animal good for breeding? How old do the animals need to be before they are bred? Are there ways to selectively breed for certain traits? Is there a breed already good at everything? Just as a reminder, we’re looking to breed the goats for milk, wool, and maybe meat. Are those traits mutually exclusive? What breeds are the best for each thing? Is there a good breed for all three? Just… yeah. I trust that you’ll be thorough, but those are some good starting points.”
“Right.” Arum took the pencil and pad of paper with an expression of overwhelmed determination on his face. Rogue couldn’t help but grin.
“You’ve got this, Commander.”
“Right. Let’s go, boys,” Arum said, leading the predetermined group to the duck lady’s neighbor’s house down the lane from where they’d heard bleating as they’d walked past it that morning.
Rogue chuckled as he turned again to the lady at the door who shouted at Arum’s back: “BARTIG CAN BE A LITTLE CRANKY IN THE MORNINGS! PAY IT NO MIND! HE’S EXPECTING YOU!”
“THANKS!” Arum shouted back.
“Well,” she said, looking over Rogue and the remaining group of men, “welcome! I had the thought last night that we never exchanged names, Mr….”
“Rogue,” he said, offering a small bow of greeting to her.
“And I’m Vernet. The ducks are back this way.” She gestured to Rogue’s left and led him and his men around the small house to a picket fence that scraped the slate slab beneath it as she unlatched and pushed it open. They followed her down a narrow lane of stepping stones to a wide but very short barn, the floor of which was littered with rows upon rows of baskets lined with hay and grasses of one variety or another. Only a small handful of the baskets were occupied by a duck. “The ladies in here are all broody. The rest of them are outside.”
“Broody?” Rogue asked and then hopped back as a nearby duck hissed and nipped irritably at his ankle. “As in grumpy?”
Vernet didn’t clarify. Instead, she ushered them all outside to where a great many ducks were waddling about or swimming while being chased by their ducklings in various developmental stages. “There they are! I need to keep enough of them to breed next year, but the rest are for selling. I like to keep at least thirty laying females, but as you can see, there were a lot of ducklings this year, and the girls in the barn are working on the last wave. In fact, those eggs should be hatching here in the next day or so. Should we start rounding them up? Once we get the hens caught, the ducklings will be easy, and then I can help you load them up in the carts you brought.”
“Let’s do it.”
Rogue and his men spent the next couple of hours chasing, cornering, and catching skittish mother ducks and the odd drake, but as Vernet had said, once the mothers were caught, the ducklings practically caught themselves, fighting their way into the crates where their mothers were being detained. At long last, Vernet declared that they’d caught as many ducks as she intended to sell that season, and the men gathered the crates to load them carefully into the carts.
“I’m not even sure how many ducks we’ve got loaded up, but I think we used up all but one of the crates.”
“I kept an inventory of what you loaded up,” Vernet said, showing him the receipt she’d carefully jotted down. “I believe that comes to four Tankam, four Velli, and two Pattu Cempu.”
“Wow. For nearly a hundred ducks and all of their ducklings?” Rogue found that a bit astoundingly cheap. Well, it was a lot of money, but for how many animals they were buying, that didn’t seem like much.
“Seven drakes, and ten females that laid unsuccessful clutches this year, so no ducklings, and eighty-two hens with ducklings in tow,” Vernet said, showing him the three categories and appropriate multipliers. “That’s what we agreed upon? Feel free to check my numbers.”
“Oh, your math is fine. Just, that’s a lot of ducks for the money.”
“I feel that I’m getting the better end of the deal,” Vernet laughed. “Many of those ducklings won’t survive to their first flight. Critters like to eat them. I’m selling you ducks that might not be worth anything.”
“Well, maybe we’ll be able to keep them alive,” Rogue countered optimistically while counting out the appropriate compensation for their haul.
“I wish you the best of luck. Do you have any more questions about how to handle them before you go?”
“Not that I can think of. Your instructions were quite thorough.”
“Oh! Before you go,” Vernet said and then immediately started walking away with a hand beckoning the men to follow, “take some of this duck feed. It’s going to rot before the birds I have left will be able to get to it. You might as well use it to feed the ones you’re taking off my hands.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’d rather it get used than it get wasted,” she insisted. “Maybe it’ll even get you to where you need to go before you have to scrounge up more feed.”
“Thanks, Vernet,” Rogue accepted the bonus offering gratefully and began the arduous task of loading the giant sacks of mixed, crushed grains and dried vegetable meal onto the already burdened carts. When they’d finished, Rogue said another brief farewell to Vernet and gave the order to guide the carts back up the road. “Arum! Perfect timing,” Rogue greeted the commander just a short distance down the lane. Rogue paused for a moment when Arum didn’t immediately respond. His head was bowed, and the men he’d been sent with were clapping him on the back…. And his ears were a delicate shade of pink. “Arum? What happened?”
Before he could say anything, his men spoke for him. “The commander wasn’t prepared for a demonstration,” someone chortled.
“Yeah, an’ the farmer sure wasn’t shy either.”
“Blunter than the wrong side of an ax!”
With each comment, Arum’s ears grew a progressively darker shade of red. “Primordials,” he groaned into his hands. “I can’t unsee it!”
Rogue snorted. “Can’t unsee what, Arum?”
“It’s the beginning of August,” he said, as though that explained anything.
“Yeah. So?”
“That’s when some of the female goats start going into heat. All that bleating? That was just two of ‘em calling for a mate. Bartig got it into his head about halfway through that it might be good to… show us– Oh, Primordials!” Arum groaned into his hands.
“Halfway through? Arum, have you been cycling through every shade of scarlet for the last hour and a half?”
Groan.
“Because a couple of goats–”
“Oh, shut up, Rogue!” But Arum immediately buried his face again as his cheeks burned anew. “Just let me die of humiliation in peace.”
“Yeah. Just wait until he realizes that his parents had to–”
“NO! Why would you even say that!” Arum snapped at the offending comrade and threw a quick jab at his chest, indignation eventually yielding to his darkest blush yet as his men all devolved into hysterics at his expense. Even Rogue couldn’t entirely contain his laughter.
“Boys, leave him be,” Rogue admonished when he’d mostly regained control of his twitching lips. He pulled Arum out of the group, helping the flustered commander escape to the front of the carts while he worked to cool his face. “You’re a good man, Arum, you know that?” Arum merely snorted with embarrassment. “I mean it. And unlike the rest of those dogs back there, I actually trust you with my wife and kids. This is just one of the many reasons why.” Rogue smirked a little impishly at Arum’s bewilderment and cuffed his shoulder. “Let’s go buy some goats… now that you’re an expert.”
“Ugh. Rogue!”