S'haar didn't like the look on B'arthon's face. He had the same look he always wore whenever he was about to torment someone he viewed as weaker than himself. As he looked down at the two of them, B'arthon obviously thought he sensed weakness he could exploit.

The two goons stayed in place, leering, while B'arthon started circling his chosen prey. "Well, I must say I AM surprised to see you back again. I thought for sure you'd be nothing more than dragon shit by now, and yet here you are, hauling a load of stolen iron too! Tell me, how DID you pull that off?"

S'haar kept her eyes locked on the two immediate threats in front of her while she addressed B'arthon. "We didn't steal anything. The iron belongs to Jack." She nodded toward her charge without breaking eye contact. "He's here representing the dragon, who happens to have more metal than she knows what to do with. The dragon agreed to trade the iron for some goods they could actually use. I'm only here acting as a guide and interpreter."

B'arthon hesitated for a moment at the mention of the dragon, some undiscernible emotion passed through his eyes, but he covered his reaction as he quickly resumed his pacing. "You expect me to believe the dragon is more than some oversized beast? That it's capable of understanding ideas like negotiation and trade? No, I think this feeble excuse for an argu'n somehow managed to get you free, and the two of you simply took what you could and ran. We can't have thieves running about. Maybe I'll just claim your iron and exile you from the village, for good this time."

S'haar was beginning to size up the two thugs in front of her just as Jack spoke up. "Tell him I said that would be a mistake."

S'haar wasn't sure what Jack thought he would accomplish here but decided they didn't have much to lose and translated.

B'arthon reacted the way she thought he would, starting with a laugh that made her skin crawl. "Please, you think you can threaten me? What can a pathetic excuse for a male and one lone female possibly going to do?"

Jack looked as calm as he ever did, though S'haar couldn't help but notice one of his hands was suspiciously near where she knew he hid his gun. "I'm not threatening you, at least not physically. The mistake I'm speaking of is pretty obvious to anyone who stops and thinks for a moment. If you want this load of iron, I'll give it to you, but every load that comes after will be taken to a different village. That means the villages around this one would see a significant uplift in economic strength while your community falls behind. Pretty soon, your craftspeople would leave for places that had more and cheaper raw materials to work with. That would mean less money and less power for whoever runs this village."

S'haar noticed several faces take off running as they heard Jack's claims. She was just starting to hope Jack's strategy might pay off when B'arthon dashed her hopes. "I've heard enough lies from this curr and her pet. Teach them a lesson in manners before you remove them from our village!"

S'haar was ready for something like this to happen, but unfortunately, so were the two goons. The first lept for S'haar and the second for Jack. S'haar tried to block the second but received a jab to the back of her head for her trouble. As she dropped to one knee, she saw Jack's futile struggle as he was hoisted by his neck. The first goon was standing over S'haar, laughing uproariously.

S'haar launched herself to her feet to shut him up and delivered her a quick jab to his exposed throat. She had kept her hand open, connecting with the space between her thumb and forefinger. He went down hard with a choking sound, but S'haar knew that aside from a nasty bruise, he'd be fine after the shock wore off.

As she turned to see what kind of trouble Jack was in. He managed to surprise both S'haar and his opponent by kicking one leg up and bracing it over the top of his assailant's arm. He then used that leg for extra leverage to kick up with his second leg and catch his opponent just under the chin. If they had been closer in size, the maneuver would have been impossible, but it worked perfectly in this situation. Well, almost perfectly. It did have the desired effect of launching back the head of Jack's assailant, who then dropped Jack. The problem was when Jack landed hard and promptly writhed on the ground as though he'd injured his foot.

Never one to waste an opportunity, S'haar launched herself at Jack's assailant before he regained his composure. She took him down with a swift kick to his groin and followed up with an open-palm punch to the back of his head, collapsing him into the dirt at her feet.

The situation started to look like it favored Jack and herself, which is how S'haar knew something was bound to go horribly wrong. The sound of metal clearing a scabbard behind her was all the confirmation she needed for her fear. Turning around, she saw the first thug standing again, with a genuinely pissed off look on his face and a sword in his hand. Hearing a similar sound on the ground below her, S'haar knew the odds had just shifted very much against them.

B'arthon had stepped away from the ruckus, clearly intent on letting his hired muscle handle the heavy lifting. His face was shifting from eager anticipation to a look of manic glee as the events he had set in motion seemed to be coming to a climax.

The first thug was drawing back to strike as Jack started to draw his own weapon. Everything slowed down as S'haar tried to think of a way for them to get out of this without bringing every guard in the city down on their heads, but was coming up blank.

-

Just as everything seemed to unravel, one of the goons fell to the ground, clearly unconscious. Behind where he'd been standing was old Mar'kon, wiping his lightly bruising fist with the same greasy rag as before. Looking around, Jack could see most of the apprentices standing around with various makeshift clubs in hand. They looked bored, as if they really just wanted to get back to work.

Jack eased his hand away from the gun he had just resheathed. Things were starting to look up. Things like B'arthon's blood pressure, for example.

Acting out like a toddler who just had his favorite toy taken away, he started shouting at an increasingly bored-looking Mar'kon. "You've crossed a line this time, old man! My father won't just sit back after you assaulted my bodyguard!"

A voice rose over the rising murmuring of the gathering crowd. "You are correct. I won't 'just sit back' after this unnecessary waste of my time!" The owner of the voice was walking toward the center of the disturbance of his little kingdom. He was being led by the argu'n who'd taken off running just before the fight. He was also flanked on either side by a couple of bodyguards of his own. They weren't as big or muscled as B'arthon's guards, but they were better equipped and much more menacing despite having their weapons at rest.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

The new argu'n handed some coins to his guides without looking away before continuing forward, his guard only a step behind him at all times. His clothing was a fur-lined cloth dyed in much more vibrant colors than anyone else Jack had seen until now. Like B'arthon, he was shorter than the average argu'n. However, his presence seemed to tower over everyone else present, including his guards, even though they had to look down to him as they listened for his orders. "My son has apparently learned the wrong lesson from my tolerance for his ill-mannered behavior of late. Perhaps it's time I tried a different approach. Please escort him and his friends to the animal pens. Instruct Lady Ta'miel they are to clean the pens every day for the next week."

B'arthon's face couldn't be described as anything other than petulant. "Father, you can't be serious! She's just another orphaned curr!"

Still speaking to the guard and pointedly ignoring his son, the man continued. "Inform my son that while I don't involve myself in his personal affairs, the merchants that visit the village are my concern. He'd do well to remember that in the future. Also, make it two weeks in the pens..."

B'arthon looked as though he wanted to argue further, but in a rare moment of discernment, he seemed to decide he was better off shutting his mouth, for now. The look he shot Jack and S'haar as he was escorted away delivered a clear message, this is not over, and they will regret his humiliation.

As S'haar helped Jack to his feet, the colorful argu'n turned his attention to the mismatched duo. At a glance, Jack could tell he struggled for just a moment to decide which face to wear for them and the crowd. Coming to a decision, he spoke to his remaining guard, who then went about dispersing the gathered crowd while his boss approached the targets of his son's ire.

His face was a mask of neutrality, and his arms folded in front of himself, appearing neither hostile nor welcoming. Obviously, trying to get a measure of the two before committing to anything. That suited Jack just fine.

Jack limped forward, doing his best to ignore his protesting foot. S'haar offered both literal and metaphorical support by stepping up beside him and letting him lean against her slightly on his injured side. As Jack spoke, S'haar once again translated. "Greetings, lord A'ngles, I presume? I apologize for the misunderstanding between your son's guards and ourselves. I hope no lasting harm will come of it. My name is Jack, and I believe you are at least somewhat familiar with my friend and translator, S'haar."

One of A'ngles's eye ridges rose at the word "friend," but otherwise, he appeared to take everything in stride. While Jack was never one to enjoy politics, in fact, he avoided them at every opportunity, he knew the game well enough to get by when needed. Lord A'ngles might be from a different world with a different culture, however, some ideas appeared universal.

Seeing that order was restored in his corner of the world, Mar'kon simply grunted before turning around and chasing his charges back to their various jobs. Anyone who idled a little too long found themselves on the receiving end of a whipping via his signature greasy rag.

A'ngles watched Mar'kon go about refocusing his apprentices before speaking. "Mar'kon is a man of great value to the village. He brings considerable admiration and value to the village and, admittedly, to me as well. In doing so, he has earned himself and his men a great deal of respect, comfort, and protection within this village. Anyone who can contribute to the village in such a meaningful way will always find himself," Lord A'ngles directed a meaningful look at S'haar. "or herself, welcome within our walls."

A'ngles refocused his attention back to Jack. It was as though everything he'd said until now had not been blatantly directed at jack and instead had just been idle chatter. "To answer your indirect inquiry, I do not believe any lasting harm will come from today's misunderstanding. What's more, I shall endeavor to ensure your future visits to our village are free of such... misunderstandings."

Jack nodded, knowing this was as close to an apology as he was likely to get. S'haar tried to look as uninvolved as possible while continuing to translate. "I'm sure that our continued association will enrich everyone involved. Hopefully, the sight of me bringing metals and other valuable goods will soon become a common sight in this town."

A'ngles nodded in agreement, almost successfully hiding the glint of eagerness in the back of his eyes. His attention was momentarily taken by one of his guards, who spoke quietly in his ear for a moment before he returned his attention to Jack. "I'm afraid I am needed elsewhere at the moment. If your foot has been injured, I'm sure our town healer to set it right for you."

Jack shook his head and waved A'ngles' concern away. "I'll be fine. I am trained in the art of healing myself. This will be but a minor setback."

There was another sparkle of eagerness in Lord A'ngles eyes as he spoke. "A trader and a healer? Yes, I think you will be most welcome indeed... For now, please rest at the inn as my guest this evening. I'll send someone over to see that everything ready for you at your convenience."

With those parting words, A'ngles walked away in the brisk manner of someone who has too much to do and not enough time to do it in. That left Jack and S'haar alone, standing in the middle of what had not long ago been a crowded road. Turning to S'haar, Jack grinned. "Well, that went well!"

That was when Jack put a little too much weight on the wrong foot and started to collapse before S'haar caught and steadied him. Glaring at him, she spoke her mind. "Maybe next time you should let me do what you're paying me to do. While that move you pulled looked impressive, it left you on the ground and vulnerable while barely slowing your opponent down. In the end, all it would have done is left you vulnerable and in the way, making my job harder. Next time just run away before you get grabbed, and leave the fighting to me."

Jack's face turned a bit red before he deflected. "How was I supposed to know kicking that guy in the face would be like kicking stone?" His voice and expression softened. "However, I suppose you're right. That was a mistake on my part, and I'm glad things didn't end any worse than they did. I have to admit, it was quite impressive the way you handled those two. Thanks, I owe you one."

S'haar wasn't used to a male apologizing after she spoke her mind to him in such a manner. It caused her to hesitate a moment before responding. "I'm fairly certain up until now I've been the one in your debt. Don't try and be a hero again, and we'll call it even."

Jack grinned back at her. "It's a deal. Now, where can one go to find ourselves a cart around here? Preferably something big enough to haul back the sled and one injured non-hero?"

Looking at his injured foot, Jack sighed. "Angela is gonna freak out on me when she hears how this happened."

S'haar looked at him in surprise. "Are you in any condition to be wandering around town? Shouldn't we get you back to Lady Angela so she can fix you up?"

Jack shook his head, emphatically. "No need to rush, I packed everything I'll need to make a splint, and I have some pain meds that'll take the edge of the pain off. We'll get the supplies we planned on, take lord A'ngles up on his offer at the inn, and head home in the morning as planned."

S'haar gave him a stern glare for a moment before replying. "I guess it's your call, but if Lady Angela throws a fit, you will take credit for the idea."

Jack waved her worries away. "Don't worry about it, everything will be fine. Also, since when is it 'Lady Angela'?"

S'haar grinned a little impishly in response, enjoying the jealousy in Jack's voice. "Well, she is a dragon. That deserves a little respect, don't you think?"

Jack knew what was coming but couldn't stop himself from taking the bait anyway. "If Angela's the dragon, what does that make me?"

S'haar slowly walked away, leaving Jack to limp after her before turning her head and replying over her shoulder. "The dragon's assistant, of course! And no, that position does not come with a title."