Some more time passed. I turned 11 cycles old yesterday. Arsalan was summoned by the regional court last month to discuss the export and import tariffs of our island province, Rokmuro. It literally means Rockwall – a name it earned for its impassable mountain ranges. There are several large settlements here, with Trezoro being the sixth most populous.
Kantax has had a coughing fit recently, yet she started rambling mere moments after Arsalan left.
“Ugh. He’s probably seeing other women, I swear. I’m busting that bark-sniffer’s knees if he comes home smelling like skank.” I get her. She’s so real for that, as my kids used to say.
Rokmuro is one of the biggest islands of the Marbordo archipelago which is aptly named after the coastal empire that encompassed it. The empire barely hangs on in the northern mainland, and it had recently seceded along with the other island states of the Fekunda strait which runs from Rokmuro’s northwest to the southeast. These islands are among some of the most fertile in Mondo, perhaps due to the volcanic activity across the strait.
Additionally, Kantax got a worrisome illness a week ago. I’ve been taking care of her every day since. I also felt that I at least owed this body a healthy state of being, so I maintained a wonderful diet and heavy exercise. Today I’m retrieving the invoice for the varied livestock we’ve recently invested in. Going on my own, this time.
She stayed at home this time to get more rest, and spend time polishing her old Marbordian segmented armor. Reminded me of what Romans are depicted with. Crazy how often Viktor thought about the Roman Empire; daily. Damn, are all nerdy guys like that?
The walk was uneventful – until I came across a bunch of kids by the groveside road. Seven of them, all slightly older than me? I think they’re the farmhands’ kids.
The one I didn’t recognize was the tanned blonde one curled up on the floor. His affluent clothes were muddied and soiled with piss, and probably not just his own. There’s already so few kids out here, and I hate seeing them make each other suffer. Though I really should just let this be, I’ll at least try to talk them down.
“Hey! What’s going on over there?” I yelled over.
One turned to me. “Oi! Stay out of this, halfie.”
“Huh? I’m just checking in on you guys.” I replied.
“Are you deaf? What’re those long ears good for?”
The older kids stopped kicking the downed one, and turned their attention towards me. There’s two girls and four boys standing around the kid, giving each other bothered looks as they whisper to each other; mouths covered away from me. The tallest one, a somewhat skinny lad with his hair trimmed down to the scalp, took a few steps towards me with his arms crossed.
“This kid is the caravan merchant’s boy. His dad wouldn’t buy the harvest at fair prices and now we can’t get white bread. Hell, this runt had more pocket money than what our folks see in months!”
I took a step back. “Still, isn’t that a bit-”
Pipra, an older girl in tattered clothes rushed in front. “Oy, Jac, isn’t that halfie the Kantax’s? That prude hag! She might have some on her too!”
A shorter kid, Ouro, chimed in. “Yeah! Both your parents got a lot to do with how little ours are paid!”
Jac uncrossed his arms and got even closer. “Well then let’s get a little justice and maybe a bonus with it too, yeah?”
“Hey guys come on now, I was just passing-”
He pushed me over, into the edge of the dirt road. The abrasive pebbles grinded across my elbow and hips as I fell over to my side. Having regained my bearings, it seems that my favorite pink dress got scratched up with a hole or two. I’ve always done my best to keep it spotless. Motherfucker.
“Hand us whatever and we’ll let you go, halfie.”
I slowly got up – but not before I’d found the largest stone that could fit in my palm. I held it in my right hand behind my back, and I used my left to clasp some fine dirt while dusting off my dress.
“Sure. C’mere real quick. I’ve got something for you.”
Jac and Ouro got closer, stopping within punching distance. I tilted my head and gave them an unsettling, deadpan look.
“Well then little halfie, what’ve you got for us?” Jac asked.
“Wouldn’t you believe it. I’ve changed my mind.”
The contempt the two expressed grew more evident. Ouro cracked his knuckles but Jac wasted no time, winding his right fist. “You little bitch!” he yelled.
My blood had been boiling in wait. Sheer focus slowed time down enough. I sidestepped to dodge the blow, all while swinging the stone in my right hand. I slammed the rock right into Jac’s abdomen.
Ouro shuddered for a moment as he saw Jac instantly fold and collapse. I gave Ouro a glare before dropping the stone. Now, he had the resolve to stand his ground. He unsheathed his dining knife.
After an initial sense of shock, the other four began hurling insults at me while cheering at him to “give it his best shot if he isn’t a coward.”
I freed my leather waistbelt and wrapped it around my right hand, nodding him a warning. My own knife remained in my dress’ pocket sheath.
Ouro screamed as he clumsily dashed to me with his blade up. I swerved aside again, and tripped him onto the gritty road as soon as he lunged. The abrasive road fueled his anger like it did mine. He got up and tried to steel himself for another attempt. However, I wouldn’t give him that chance – I’d already closed in.
His eyes widened in surprise as I swiped to unleash a cloud of fine dust from my left palm. Ouro began swinging the knife blindly, then I caught and clamped it with the belt wrapped in my right grip. This gave me the opening to kick him square in the groin and disarm him, and I took it.
I haven’t played soccer since college but I was recently trained to kick down doors, so I knew my strongest kick in this small body would cripple this kid for life. I toned it down enough to merely leave him rolling in tears. I’m sorry, Ouro, but you pulled a knife on me.
Now I eyed the other four, whose silence I bought with the unexpected display of unbridled resistance and violence.
“Look. Look at what you made me do. Did I look like I wanted this? You should all be ashamed.” I yelled at them.
Jac groaned and looked at me as he drooled in pain, hunched over; a little like the merchant’s kid. “You-”
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“Stay down, Jac.” I commanded, glancing over my shoulder. “Or you’ll be drinking your food for a month.”
I approached the standing four, who began backing up from the kid they were beating earlier.
“I just wanted to go run a couple of errands today but the first thing I have to do is defend myself? Listen. If you don’t show me what you stole from that kid, you’re next.”
A staggering quantity of small silver coins came up in an embroidered pouch. That’s actually a huge amount, almost more than I’d ever seen all at once here.
“Don’t act like brigands if you don’t want to be punished like them. Hey, I get how rough things have been with the poor harvests all across Rokmuro. We’re in this together.”
I asked, but none of them knew math so I did a quick count and divvied a little more than half of the purse’s contents to be split among these six kids – roughly 4 small silvers, or 4 ‘Sesteroy’ for each of them. That’s enough to buy a half month’s worth of rations for a family of four, on a good season. I had them help Jac and Ouro stand up, still reeling from the pain. I passed the knife back.
“Look, I’m going to hand out four Sesteroy to each of you and give the rest back. But before I do, promise me that you won’t try stunts like this again? If merchant caravans don’t find this place safe, or find their children getting mugged, what’ll we do when traders don’t trade? What if it lures actual bandits?”
All of them, except Jac, nodded.
“Here. Take these, and hide them properly at home. Trust me when I say that you don’t want your folks finding out where you got this. And if they do ask, just insist you recently saw someone drop it. Save it for when you really need it, okay? Now head home. I’ll escort him to Trezoro so he gets home safe, too.”
Pipra asked. “Wait, why can’t we have the rest?”
“Because it isn’t yours, and I still need to convince his parents he rolled off a cliff or something and not this mess. Leaving him with a good amount saves us the suspicion. Just go.”
Their faces turned a little sour, again.
“I’m doing this for all of us, trust me. And don’t you dare give me that look. I’m not taking the rest of his money. I just want this resolved peacefully. Clean up and go, let me smooth things out.”
And so they headed home, both Jac and Ouro still hunched over from the pain. I tidied the kid up the best I could near the lake and got him walking again, albeit his legs were still shaking. His skin tone seems naturally tanned; rare here, and almost exotic.
“My name is Mateo, thank you. For that. Saving.”
After some talking on the road, I’ve found out he’s new to the language and he turned 9 cycles old last season. I gave him a rundown on what made them gang up on him, and why I did what I had to.
We finally got to Trezoro. I had to explain to guardsman Rovan that Mateo ran into an accident and I was escorting him home. He was already familiar with our relatives – either by seeing us with them or simply gossip. He’s a kind yet vigilant man.
Mateo knew the paths home from past the gates, so we didn’t need Rovan or another guard to escort us. They did, however, notice the dried-up stench that reeked from him.
There aren’t that many cities around that I’ve heard of, but towns like Trezoro are all over the place. Towns would often span between several hundred souls to a few thousand. Trezoro is definitely growing.
The smell of freshly baked bread never gets old, and is always a welcome delight when I visit. They even have seriously delicious pastries now, often made with a kind of brown sugar imported from the southern isles which typically have better climates that permit sugar sources to be efficiently cultivated.
We finally got to his place – an elegant rowhouse thrice the size of my home. It’s merely a stonetoss away from the market district where I was already headed.
Maids bursted past the door, tending to him. A bespectacled busty maid asked me for what happened. I gave her a confusingly muddled alibi. She raised her glasses to get a good look. I’ve never seen someone with glasses here before. Her large glasses were round with a thin bronze frame; a little crude but still bespoke and expensive. I should get a pair someday, and get Kantax a set too.
After some rumination, she asked me to come by again in an hour or two – this would give me enough time to deal with the errands in the bazaar I came here for in the first place.
And so I did, and returned a bit later. The maids ushered me upstairs to an office where a tidied-up Mateo sat in one of two chairs facing an ornate desk with bronze lining. An unusual glass bottle filled with a clear liquid, rested there with countless stacked documents.
Mateo requested I sit, but that was a hard ask when I’d also been greeted by the largest stockpile of books I’ve seen since I entered Mondo. Shelved all over the wall behind the desk, I got closer and skimmed their titles. Hell yeah.
“Ah, little lady. Finally.” An older man called. “Sit.”
Cutting off my attention to the books was the head of the caravan. Though I’d only seen him a few times before, his beautifully-embroidered clothing and curly blonde hair gave it away, not to mention the gilded monocle on his left eye. I took a moment and bowed, before taking the seat beside Mateo. The man’s skin was light like most nobles here, so I’m guessing Mateo’s mom is foreign. The man walked over to look out the large windows with thin wooden blinds and silken curtains draped aside.
“Tell me what really happened.” the man asked.
“Oh uh, sure. You don’t look like someone I’d like to lie to so I’ll tell you what happened, if you can assure me that you won’t take it out on the common folk here.”
“Is this a negotiation?” he asked vulgarly.
“No. I don’t think it is. But it may be in everyone’s best interest to let this one slide. Just, don’t let him play in the forests unattended.”
“Correct, but still – do you have something I want?”
“Well uh, is there anything you need help with? Some fresh eyes on those stacks of paperwork might help lessen the load.”
This took him aback, not having expected any proposal let alone a sound one from a child at that.
“Wait, you can read?”
“Yeah. And I can do arithmetic.”
“Smart AND lucky, aren’t you? My scrivener had recently quit in protest and none of the maids can write or compute to the extent I require. Help me sift through all this, and I won’t ask about where Teo’s allowance went. Besides, if you’re smart enough to convince my son to lie to me, then you’re probably more useful than my last aide.”
I gave Mateo a raised eyebrow, and he raised both back. Thankfully it was only his allowance in that ‘loose purse’ of his.
“Yes, sir.” I paused to compose myself.
“You may address me as Mikhailo Taido. Your father is Arsalan Lunarka, yes? Most people here know of his exploits, and I too have heard of his only daughter. Let us all hope that his insights can help resolve the taxation issue currently overwhelming the regional court. Tell me, do you have any sort of opinion on those matters?”
“Oh I uh.. maybe tariffs should be primarily drawn from land values, and should be progressive in taking in more from those of high-income and less on the poor while non-luxury trade should be taxed less in order to help stimulate the economy?” I rambled on, twiddling my thumbs. “All while uh, agriculture should be protected with progressive subsidies in place. Something like that?”
“Absolutely phenomenal. Arsalan must’ve done a wonderful job in explaining the state of post-Marbordian penny-pinching, and our reliance on Ischyrosian imports. Fascinating!”
Arsalan didn’t explain shit, I’m just spitballing out here. Mikhailo began sifting and scanning through documents from another cabinet. His son Mateo stared at me like I’m from another planet – and I guess I am. Mondo isn’t Earth after all.
Mikhailo responded in a low voice. “Albeit forward thinking, it upends the feudal systems of the last half century. The banks stand to gain the most from how things are now, but I am still unsure how privatizing land will affect them.”
Man. I have no clue, and I kinda don’t care anymore. I’m beat; exhausted. I just want to go buy fresh bread and go home.
“Say, come visit every other day and help me deal with these papers. And on days with smaller loads, I’d like you to tutor my son.”
“Will I uh, get paid?” I stammered.
“Of course. You will be paid much more than the typical farmhand you’re familiar with, assuming you do a decent job here. And as a bonus, you can peruse my personal library. You seemed interested, and I think Arsalan bought a carpentry journal from me before. I cannot quite recall.”
All of that had me on the edge of my seat. “Deal.”
I bought bread and soup before waltzing home with a good amount of what was paid for the livestock. I’d also gathered information on different popular crops being sold now, even the tall hardy Whispergrass we have all around the lake contains flammable sap – a competent lantern oil and a component of expensive long-lasting candles. We usually do rotations of Gorosi, an unexceptional yet reliable golden grain that thrives in most climates, and then Brila whose uncommon cream colored grain has longer growth periods and (I assume) has the necessary gluten content responsible for Trezoro’s wonderfully puffy pastries.
Hopefully we can get substantial imports of “Dreamweaver” poppies, which can induce all sorts of interesting and creative thoughts. I remember Kantax talking about its pain-relieving properties, but Arsalan also warned about having “seen entire communities fall into ruin” due to Dreamweaver tea. Additionally there’s “Spicemoons”, whose glowing crescent pods burst with intense flavor and aroma to add a potent kick to any dish. Kinda like yellow chili peppers. It still upsets my stomach, and we only import it dried from the isles far south.
Arsalan had brought up other interesting plants whose names roughly translate to Emberberries, Silkvines, Okoma Stalks, and a virtually extinct grain called “Satiyye” or “Sunspears.”
It’s always exciting to get the chance to learn and experience things that would’ve been absolute make-believe back on Earth. Nonetheless, I’m nearing the end of my trip home.
Kantax was slumped near a bedroom window upstairs, waving at me once she’d noticed me on the moonlit road. Stars glitter across the clear sky over the farmstead. We only have one moon here, but the thin glowing beam across the sky is probably a ring and Rokmuro’s just on Mondo’s equator. I should ask them.
The way the lightbeam cuts out when the planet blocks the sunlight is surreal. Nobody seems to ever talk about it, except for religious romanticization. Anyway, astronomy isn’t a known field here just yet, but maybe I’ll find a book here written about it.
I explained today (except the silvers I’d handed out) and how I was offered work at the Taido trading house directly under Mikhailo. Kantax stopped meeting my eyes for a moment to say “that sleazebag” under her breath, only to return to a more positive and excited demeanor. She’d only learned to read in her 20’s so her daughter getting secretary work at this age is just wild to her.
We decided to heat up the soup and have the soft bread together, but she insisted on doing kitchenwork.
“Lasita, my dear, let me be your mother while I still can.”
I wouldn’t deny her that. I couldn’t.