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The Mercenary's Garden
Much About Breakfast

Much About Breakfast

The walk into Tillwind took twenty minutes at an easy pace. Kain's boots kicked up dust from the now-drying road as the morning sun burned off the last remnants of the storm.

His ribs ached less today, though the damp night hadn't done him any favors.

The Copper Kettle sat on what passed for Tillwind's main street, its sign - a copper pot overflowing with golden liquid. The building itself was solid timber and stone, two stories tall with a slate roof that probably didn't leak.

Kain found himself envying those slate shingles as he approached the door.

Inside was cool and smelled of fresh bread and whatever bubbled in the pot over the hearth.

The floor was swept clean, the tables well-maintained.

Someone who cared about details ran this place.

A handful of early patrons occupied tables - merchants reviewing ledgers, an old man nursing an ale, and two older women sharing gossip.

Sorrel stood behind the bar, wiping mugs and chatting with a heavyset man. She spotted Kain as he entered, raising an eyebrow at his mud-streaked appearance.

"Well," Sorrel said, "you look like you had an interesting night."

"That obvious?"

"You've got that 'spent the night being rained on' look." She set down her mug.

"Storm found every hole," Kain admitted, sitting down on a stool.

"Sounds like you need breakfast." She turned toward the kitchen. "Ham's fresh, bread too. And I've got coffee."

"Never too early to help a neighbor." She grinned. "Besides, you look like you could use it."

"I could, but I'm a little light on coin at the moment, and looking more for work," Kain replied.

"Oren must have been talking, so you're not here for my famous breakfast?" Sorrel raised an eyebrow.

Kain shook his head and tried to ignore his hungry belly. "I wish, your cooking smells amazing, but until I get the farm earning, I need to watch my coin."

"Don't be ridiculous-" Sorrel started, but was cut off by a gravelly voice from one of the corner tables.

"Put his breakfast on my tab, Sorrel." The older man who'd been nursing his ale stood up, moving closer, and gave Kain an appraising look. "You're the one who bought Old Madder's place?"

He stuck out a meaty hand. "Sam Ofosky. Run the guild office."

Kain returned the handshake.

Sam's weathered face broke into a knowing smile. "Saw that Silver Hands pin when you walked in. You boys always got the job done."

"Sam here lost some sheep to wolves last season," Sorrel explained. "And a few chickens this week. He's particularly loud about how much he dislikes wolves."

"Three chickens, not just a few," Sam corrected. "Good ones too, always gave me eggs, like clockwork, or they were. Damn wolves are getting bolder." He turned back to Kain. "Silver Hands, though. Worked with your company once. Caravan guard to Rivercross. Clean work, no complications. Arrived safely."

"That would've likely been Darien," Kain said quietly. "He liked the caravan runs."

"Darien?" Sam's face brightened. "Good lad. How's he doing these days? If he's still cooking like I remember, he should have a wife and some little ones running around by now."

The tavern grew quieter. Kain's hand found Mark's flask in his pocket.

"The Silver Hands disbanded," Kain said simply. "The others didn't make it. I'm the only survivor. Job that went sideways. Wyvern in a goblin nest."

Sam whistled low. "Wyvern? No wonder you're looking at farming now."

Sorrel quietly placed three small glasses on the bar. Kain pulled out the flask, setting it next to the glasses, and poured a little out.

"To absent friends," Sam said solemnly.

After a respectful pause, Sam cleared his throat. "Now, about these wolves..."

"Wolves I can handle," Kain said. "B-rank and all, still, even with the hurt ribs."

Sorrel's eyebrows went up. "B-rank? That's good, right?"

"B-rank's solid," Sam nodded. "Most villages are lucky to have a C-rank pass through. Having someone who can handle predators properly year-round when needed, that'll be good for everyone."

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"Speaking of good for everyone," Sorrel slid a plate heaped with eggs, ham, and fresh bread in front of Kain. Steam rose from the coffee cup beside it. "Eat first, then talk business. You look half-starved."

Kain's stomach growled at the sight. "Thank you."

"Old Madder used to trade herbs for meals," Sorrel said. "Once you get those gardens going again, we can work something similar."

Sam pulled up a stool. "Herbs'd be welcome. Guild's been shipping them in since Madder left. Costs more than I'd like to admit."

"Probably pushed out of their territory by something bigger," Kain said, old habits kicking in. "You said five or six?"

Kain's hand unconsciously went to his ribs. "Or maybe not," he corrected himself. "Sometimes they just come down because the prey is easy, and chickens and lambs are good eating."

The memory of the Wyvern flashed through his mind. He pushed it away. Not every threat had a bigger one behind it.

Sometimes wolves were just wolves.

"Simple job then," he said, more to himself than the others. "Track them back to their den during the day, deal with them before they get any ideas about larger prey."

"So you'll take it then?" Sam asked.

Kain nodded. "Yeah, I will," and turned back to his food.

Sooner than he wanted, his fork scraped against an empty plate. His stomach growled, still not full or satisfied. He tried to hide it, but his eyes kept drifting to the cooking pot by the hearth.

Sorrel frowned as she watched him finish the last crumb of bread. Without a word, she took away his empty plate and returned with a fresh helping of eggs and ham, plus an extra thick slice of bread slathered with butter.

"You're skin and bones," she muttered, sliding the plate in front of him. "Can't have you falling over before you get started. Wouldn't be right."

"I can't-" Kain started to protest.

"You can and you will." Sorrel crossed her arms. "Consider it an investment in future herbs. First one was on Sam, this one's on the house."

Sam chuckled. "Best not to argue with her. She's got that look."

The smell of fresh food was bigger than Kain's pride.

He dug in.

"When's the last time you had a proper meal?" Sorrel asked, obviously worried about what his answer would be.

Kain paused between bites. "Been on the road a while. Trail rations mostly. I'd say the breakfast I made with that basket you gave me?"

Sorrel's eyes narrowed. "That wasn't supposed to be a meal."

"Made do." Kain shrugged, focusing on his plate.

Sam and Sorrel shared a look.

Sam cleared his throat. "About those wolves - standard guild rate is ten silver per wolf, plus whatever you can get for the pelts. Proper pelts fetch good coin come winter."

"Fifteen per wolf," Kain countered between bites. "Plus the pelts. They're taking livestock, that makes them problem wolves."

"Twelve," Sam replied. "And I'll throw in some feed grain for whatever you're planning to plant. Guild's got surplus from last season."

"Deal." Kain extended his hand. They shook on it.

"I'll need to check my gear first," Kain said.

"Take today to sort yourself out," Sam nodded. "Weather's cleared, they'll be hunting again tonight. You can pick up their trail fresh in the morning."

Sorrel collected Kain's empty plate. "And come back for dinner. Can't have you running on empty when hunting wolves."

"I can't-"

"You can and you will." Sorrel's tone brooked no argument. "Consider it part of the wolf bounty. Sam's buying."

Sam laughed. "Apparently I am."

Kain set down his coffee cup. The ache in his ribs had faded to a dull throb, and two proper meals had put strength back in his muscles.

"Actually," he said, "I'll take care of those wolves tonight."

Sam frowned. "You sure? That sounds dangerous. Risky even. I know you're hurting for coin, but... well, most hunters prefer tracking during the day."

"They'll be hunting," Kain replied. "Makes them easier to find. Plus, they'll be focused on prey."

"And they'll think I'm easy pickings," he added. "Something alone in the woods? Perfect target."

Sorrel's brow furrowed. "That sounds dangerous."

Kain touched the silver pin on his collar. "B-rank, remember? Wolves are straightforward, no magic, no tricks. Just teeth and claws. I've handled worse."

Sam still had a skeptical expression. "Still, night hunting-"

Kain reached for one of the iron table knives. "Let me show you something."

He pressed his thumb against the blade's edge, applying pressure. The metal groaned, then bent until the tip touched the handle. He put it down on the table for Sam and Sorrel to look at.

Sam's eyes widened. "Well damn. I'd heard, but seeing it is something else."

"Side effect of the work," Kain explained, keeping his voice low. "Kill enough monsters, and some of their strength stays with you. Makes you harder to hurt too."

He touched his ribs. "It's why I survived the fight with the Wyvern. If that had been in the beginning, I would have burst like a melon instead of walking away with a few broken ribs."

Sorrel picked up the bent knife, trying to straighten it. The metal wouldn't budge.

"Most villages see C-ranks at best," Kain said. "They're tough, sure, but haven't been at it long enough for the real changes." He pulled out one of his last coins and squeezed it between thumb and forefinger. The metal compressed, leaving deep fingerprints. "B-rank means I've killed enough to make regular wolves manageable."

"Besides," he continued, "the longer we wait, the more livestock they'll take. Better to end it quick."

Sam nodded slowly. "Fair enough. I'll spread word to keep folks and livestock close tonight. Don't want anyone getting in your way."

"Good idea." Kain stood up. "I'll need to get my gear ready. Didn't have much coming up here, but should have enough for this."

"Speaking of gear," Sam reached under the counter and pulled out a worn leather map case. "Old Madder's survey map. Shows the property lines, water sources, good spots for different crops. Might help with planning once the wolves are handled."

"Found it when clearing the guild office. Meant to pass it along." Sam shrugged. "Madder knew his land better than anyone. Marked all the good spots for herbs, soil types, drainage. Even noted where the deer like to bed down. Might help with tracking those wolves."

Sorrel gathered the dishes and touched the bridge of her nose. "Sounds like you're planning on skipping dinner. At least take some food with you."

"I'll be fine-"

She disappeared into the kitchen before he could finish protesting. The clatter of pots and determined muttering drifted through the doorway.

Soon after, Sorrel came back out with a wrapped package that smelled of bread and meat. She put it straight into Kain's hands. "For later. And come back in one piece. There's something I want to talk to you about before you spend another night caught in the rain."

Kain tucked the wrapped food into his coat pocket. "Thank you. Both of you."

"Just doing what neighbors do," Sorrel replied, returning to her work behind the bar.

Sam rolled up the survey map and handed it over. "Good hunting tonight. Guild office is open early if you need to claim the bounty before breakfast."

Kain nodded his thanks and stepped out. He had to get back to the farm. He had a lot to do before nightfall.

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