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Red Mist
56. The Luncheon, pt 3

56. The Luncheon, pt 3

“On the occasion of the creation of his fifty thousandth arrow or bolt, I, Spring, thank you, Corporal Faolan on behalf of the many druid lives saved by your hands. It is from the support from mice like you that our nation, our society can be strong.”

A sparra walked up with a comically large arrow, placing it in front of Spring. The sign read “The Corporal’s Complement”.

“As such, we would like to give you a brand new sign for your shop, as well as our enduring gratitude. Thank you.”

Spring motioned for the crowd to clap, and a round of applause rippled through as Freya’s father accepted the sign, nodding to the crowd. Faolan nodded, bowing to the crowd. The crowd hushed.

“I am a simple mouse and it brings me joy to protect our nation, even in this small way. So thank you all, Soldiers, veterans, druids, for keeping us safe.”

Cheers rang up from the crowd as Faolan turned to see his son. Hem came up to heft the sign on his behalf as Faolan held his son’s shoulder on the walk down.

The Claw returned to the stage, standing next to Spring.

“Now, I believe that we were here to sell some luncheon baskets?” the Claw said, smiling at the crowd.

“Bring up the first if you would?” Spring said.

“Ah, Yellowrock’s favorite druid, would you smell the first basket?”

A young fox warrior held a basket up in front of the pair. Spring sniffed deeply.

“This probably has some fish in it, and my sources say—” Spring leaned in.

The fox mimed whispering something in her ear.

“This lady is probably a fox.”

“The bidding will start at ten clams.” The Claw stood looking for woodland creatures that had raised their hands or a wing, extending a paddle.

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“Not all at once now.” Spring chided.

Freya turned away from the show back to Tulip and Da Seung.

“I’m not telling you which is mine,” she said, “but I’ll tell you that that one isn’t it.”

Da nodded.

“This is your sign. The sign that you should probably sniff out the truth,” Tulip said, gesturing to the table next to the stage with the next ten baskets arranged in the order that they would be bid on. Da Seung nodded.

The crowd roared as the Claw handed the basket to a male fox, and a female fox came to greet him. The two paired off, walking a bit away from the crowd to the green nearby, looking for a good spot.

“I hope that you get a good spot.” Tulip said, “I heard that one of the veterans is going to be going around reciting poetry.”

“Wouldn’t that be a sight,” Freya nodded.

Da raised his paddle in salute and went to sniff out which basket to bid upon.

Freya watched as the Claw and the Druid advocated for each basket in turn and the green filled up. Finally, she saw a basket with her trim. The sight of red ribbon over a brown trimming made her heart leap in her chest as she realized that Spring held her basket and the bidding was about to start. Claw had not barely said anything before Da Seung raised a worn paddle.

She put an interested face on to watch as another mouse attempted to steal.

Lieutenant Muk Chin-Hwa came in from the side. “You’ve not paid any attention to any previous baskets, Miss Uki, so I daresay that since you’re still here and not on the green, that I shall have the pleasure of sharing your luncheon?”

Freya giggled.

“I hadn’t even seen you until now. I would be happy to dine with you, Lieutenant Chin-Hwa, if you prove to be the victor of the auction.”

“Twenty clams,” a bidder declared and Freya gasped. Da Seung had his paddle up.

“Thirty clams.” Muk said, a thunderstorm across his brow.

Da Seung turned to see who had offered the sum and nodded.

“Forty clams,” another bidder said.

“Fifty clams,” Da said, edging closer to the stage.

Spring looked pleased as she nodded to the bootmaker.

“One hundred clams,” Muk Chin-Hwa said, and the crowd was in an uproar. Freya made a small noise of distress.

“Two hundred clams,” Da Seung said, locking eyes with his competition.

Muk smiled.

“Five hundred clams,” he said, keeping his paddle high. Freya nearly fainted. He’d never taken his hand down. That was almost a half a year of a working mouse’s salary.

“Fine if you’re going to be that way,” Da said, turning on his heels and walking away.