Cilvic convinced Master Garthis to help take down several trees behind the hut late in the spring. Two were diseased and risked falling on the house. By clearing out four other large trees, the wizard opened up a pretty little space which Cilvic quickly planted with seeds which had been brought by the elves over the course of the spring. Kaitlyn worried it was too late for a good planting, but Cilvic reminded her that she made an oasis, and if this space only needed stones to stay warm an extra few weeks it wouldn’t be an extreme drain on her magical energies.

In return he was able to plant about half an acre of land with beets, cauliflowers, cabbage, and wheat. Kaitlyn thought the wheat a fanciful addition. There wasn’t enough land to plant much wheat, but Cilvic insisted he plant every seed they had on hand. As she watched the little plants sprout and begin to grow, she grew more and more excited for the harvest to come.

She made a better broom and gathered all the nettles she could in the surrounding rivers and streams. She could use magic to scutch and hackle like she was carding wool. As her magic was growing, she found she could maintain these tools the entire day, softening the nettles to the point they felt more like cotton or linen.

Cooking was another thing she loved. She had always enjoyed cooking, but now that she regularly had the scouts of the dark elves and silver elves, she spent time trying to improve her recipes. When Haytham brought her a sack of salt, she was able to take her food to a new height of flavor.

It was nearly midsummer when she had new guests. The troop of six creatures tromped into the clearing and stopped, immediately dropping their packs on the ground and claiming the seats of the table. Kaitlyn came out the front door and stopped, blinking.

Satyrs were creatures of myth and legend to her, she knew them by sight because they matched the description. Each stood taller than her by several inches, their top halves human and their legs shaped like goat’s legs. She had not known before their faces also had a goat-like shape, with broad noses which pushed their eyes further apart. Their eyes had pupils more like goats as well.

There were four with dark fur on their legs and one with a pale honey colored hair and the last was mottled black and white. They wore something like a pair of short pants to cover their groins and two wore shirts to cover large breasts while the other four only wore straps of leather.

“Do you have ale?” one asked.

“I am sorry, I don’t,” Kaitlyn said. “I can offer you teas of various brews and stew, some biscuits and honey.”

“Why don’t you have ale?” one of the females asked, her honey-colored hair being tossed over her shoulder with a bit of a disdainful sniff.

Kaitlyn gestured the forest and said, “I don’t exactly have a large farm nearby which can grow enough barley for me.”

“We grow barely,” the mottled man said. “We will sell it to you.”

Kaitlyn blinked. Barley for ale and bread and all the delicious things she could come up with? She grinned and said, “I do not have much in the way of trade…”

“The elves warned us you are just building your customer base,” the mottled satyr said. “This tavern will be a gods blessing for this forest.”

“Tavern,” Kaitlyn murmured the word in awe.

“Well, bring us your best and we will haggle,” the mottled satyr said.

Kaitlyn brought out her tea things and made her favorite mint and licorice tea. The biscuits and honey basically disappeared and the satyrs praised the tea calmly. Kaitlyn wished fervently Javorora or Master Garthis was present, she had little idea how to negotiate this deal.

Cilvic came around the house while they were eating the first batch of biscuits and honey. The brownie took one look and said, “Mistress, I need your magic to assist me. Can you give me a saw this long with hooked tines?”

His hands held out almost three feet long. Kaitlyn didn’t even question it, but wove the tool. Cilvic asked for a few adjustments to the tines and then handle and then said, “Thank you mistress. I will return to my assigned tasks.”

Kaitlyn watched him, trying to keep her confusion hidden because he didn’t have assigned tasks. He got to make his own list of tasks and Kaitlyn was delighted she didn’t have to micromanage his time or attention. She turned back to her guests and immediately sensed them watching her with a different expression. She wished desperately that she could read their expressions better, but their strange eyes and unusual features made her feel quite lost.

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She considered this, brownies usually did not work openly. Brownies preferred to be invisible servants, delighting in confusing their patron homes with chores being completed invisibly. The tool he had requested had also been very strange and detailed. She had no clue what he could possibly be using it for.

Only a few minutes later he returned and said, “Forgive me mistress for interrupting again. I’m trying to complete this task, but I need two more shovels.”

Kaitlyn looked at him as she wove the shovels and he cleared his throat and said, “Ah, mistress could you make this one long and thin?”

She adjusted the shovel’s head and then said to the satyrs, “Excuse me for a moment. Allow me to go with Cilvic and check on his work.”

She followed him around the house and spoke in a low tone, “What are you doing?”

He looked at her and said, “They should fear you Kaitlyn. You are a powerful witch and they are treating you like a child. Make a show of your power. Call in Fapallo. He will help impress on them that you are not to be trifled with. If they do not treat you with more respect I will call for Linnmell to come for a visit and you will make her a bucket of tea.”

Kaitlyn tilted her head and asked, “Are they dangerous? They don’t look like they are.”

“Yes, satyrs raid for human women regularly,” the brownie said. “These are more peaceful than most, but you need to show them you have power to defend yourself.”

Kaitlyn nodded and returned to the front. She said, “I apologize, good servants need management you know.”

“Do you have many?” the mottled satyr asked.

“Never enough for all that needs to be done,” Kaitlyn said. She then turned and used a fairly new spell she had learned to amplify a sound. She whistled Fapallo’s dragonic name with, “Please come home.”

“Could we have more biscuits and honey?” one of the dark-haired satyrs asked.

“Of course,” Kaitlyn said. “I do not have more biscuits on hand, but I will have them completed shortly.”

She waved open the door and made sure the magical forced stirring, cutting, and preparing biscuits with her mind were occasionally visible. Just as she was finishing and sent the biscuits to her baking pan, Fapallo winged in. Kaitlyn stood with a smile and said, “Ah, my lovely.”

She then whistled and chirped in dragon language, “Were you able to eat?”

“Yes,” Fapallo said, fluffing his feathers as he looked down his nose at the satyrs. Kaitlyn came over and patted his neck and looked at the alarmed satyrs.

“Oh, forgive me, this is my familiar,” Kaitlyn said, coming up with the idea of the spot. She was a little surprised when she felt the pleased rumble under hand. She then added, “I believe you were offering me some barley?”

“Yes, I believe we could deliver a hundred pounds of barely this autumn,” the satyr said.

Kaitlyn pursed her lips and said, “I would need at least three hundred pounds in order to begin making ale.”

“And how will you pay for that much barley?” the mottled satyr said.

Kaitlyn considered this. Fapallo whistled softly, “Coin. 10 Gold for grass.”

She had to smile and said to Fapallo in common, “I am not buying grass. Barley is somewhat better than grass for food.”

Fapallo snorted and she shook her head, “He does not like this plan, but I will offer you 10 gold for the three hundred pounds.”

“Ten, we grow the best barley you can purchase,” the mottled satyr said.

“I don’t know that,” Kaitlyn said, “every merchant says their wares are the best. Until I see the wares myself I can not simply accept that as golden truth. Now, if you bring a silver elf with you next time and they will repeat that claim I would believe them.”

“Silver elves will not deal with us,” the blonde satyr grumbled.

Kaitlyn blinked and said, “Interesting. They are some of my most valued customers. They stay here on their rounds and they negotiated their treaty with the dark elves on this very spot.”

“So it’s true they have made a treaty,” the mottled satyr said. Kaitlyn watched the rippled of movement in the others and knew she had just found something important.

“Yes,” Kaitlyn said, “they have agreed my land is neutral territory and they meet here so they can avoid fighting.”

“They meet here?” the blonde satyr scoffed.

“Yes, Hyacinth and I had tea just a few weeks ago and discussed my visiting court with her at some point,” Kaitlyn said.

“This is impossible, Princess Hyacinth would never…!” one of the darker satyrs rose threateningly and Fapallo instantly growled fiercely. The mottled satyr slashed an arm down and said, “No! Zrah sit down.”

The dark satyr sat again, glowering now. Kaitlyn said, “Ten gold for the barley and you may also participate in the neutrality of my land to meet with those you would otherwise never get to deal with. I will not even ask for a percentage of any trades you negotiate because of this benefit.”

The mottled satyr considered and then said, “Fifteen gold.”

“Twelve.”

“Done.”

Kaitlyn held out her hand and the satyr shook it firmly. She then brought out the next batch of biscuits and said, “By the way, tea and biscuits are a copper a person. Since this was your first visit, it will be gratis, but in future please be prepared.”

“What of that stew we smell?” one of the dark satyrs asked.

“A half copper a bowl,” she said. “And a copper for two bowls and a biscuit.”

“Done!” they each said and soon produced coin.

Cilvic seemed to appear in the hut with more bowls, beautifully crafted of smooth wood. Kaitlyn brought out the bowls and said, “I hope you enjoy.”

Back inside the hut she looked and Cilvic and said, “How the hell am I going to get fifteen gold coins by autumn?”

“Nothing easier,” the brownie said, “You sell a lot of stew.”