Free Trader Complete Omnibus

by Craig Martelle

  Fen waved down a woman passing by with a basket of greens. “Show these nice young men around. They’ve come to find work.” The young woman pulled futilely at her hair, then tried straightening her clothes before introducing herself and leading the men away.

  Micah shook her head. “I suppose she’s one of those available.” Fen nodded and shrugged.

  “If we hadn’t been so quick to mete out punishment of the man who used to not clean outhouses, one of those three might have done it for a price. That is what trade is all about, is it not?” Braden offered as a teaching moment.

  “No, dear,” Fen answered. “He needed to be put in his place. He probably would have cheated the man who took his place.”

  “Was that one of Gravenin’s partners?”

  “Bullseye,” Fen said while nodding.

  Micah had kicked him in the groin and stomped on his head. Maybe his ears were still ringing. She wondered if Gravenin had put him up to refusing work. Braden thought they’d best have a word with Betty Dwyer. She had taken responsibility for the three. Braden had wondered if she could control them.

  As soon as Brandt heard that the Aurochs were at the mine, he took off, Bronwyn still astride his neck. Skirill flew ahead of them to help see the way safely. The ‘cat went with them because he hated the dogs who were numerous and ran freely through the village. Only Aadi stayed behind.

  “Mick said you have a wagon for us?” Braden asked Fen.

  Fen led the way. The Market Square had been almost completely taken over by Old Tom’s smithy. A huge pile of stones filled the square, while additional roofing had been put over the area around the smelter and the forge. They walked around the iron ore pile and behind the forge. A new wagon stood there, wheels on and ready to roll.

  Braden was initially disappointed as he compared it to his old wagon. This one wasn’t covered, the wheels looked like they’d give a rough ride, and the buck board wasn’t high. Micah, who’d never seen his old wagon, was in awe. Her mouth hung open as she looked it. “Isn’t she beautiful!”

  “Yes, she is,” he said, only partly talking about his new wagon. The fact that Tom and the others had been able to build this without having seen one before was a marvel. Braden needed to appreciate that. They could improve over time, but they had to start somewhere and this was far better than the cart.

  “We tested it with the Aurochs and one pulled it without any problem. Look here.” Fen pointed to a harness. They had made it adjustable, because there was a big difference between the cow and the bull Aurochs. “With this, it doesn’t matter who pulls. A perfect fit every time!”

  Braden lightened up, shaking off his initial discontent. The people of Dwyer had done right by him.

  61 – Next Leg of the Journey

  Brandt was less than pleased with how the other Aurochs had been treated. The cow and the bull tolerated the human’s bad behavior, but only because they knew the King would return and they’d be able to express their dismay. Probably the most disconcerting thing for the men working the mine was that they were getting chewed on by a little girl, while the massive Aurochs stomped and snorted at them.

  The King loomed, putting the point of his horn a finger-width from one of the miner’s eyes until the man peed himself. The King was gratified and more laws were laid down to clarify the Aurochs’ role as a partner.

  The whole truth was usually different from the story one first hears. The King’s initial response may have been more than the situation called for. One man yelled at the cow Aurochs to get out of his way. Once. And when they put them in the harness, the Aurochs thought they were rougher than they needed to be, although once the pulling was done, the men removed the harness quickly.

  Brandt had some choice words for his people, and the language caused Bronwyn to wince. Once he knew he upset the little girl, he let it go. Maybe he’d been spending too much time with Micah. Not everyone needed a beating.

  G-War and Skirill wanted to hunt, so they committed to making their own way back to the village. Brandt took Bronwyn and headed from the mines, leaving a group of miners and Aurochs to make up and get back to work.

  When they returned, they found the Market Square impassable. Braden had set up the cart to the side and was calling all to trade. Brandt squatted until he was lying on the ground so he could watch. He found Braden’s love of trade fascinating. Aurochs were intelligent, but lived far simpler lives. The humans needed their stuff. Since people could not be an expert in everything, trade made it possible to get good things and good food without knowing exactly where it all came from or how it was made. Every individual was good at something. When they found that, then they could produce for trade.

  Brandt saw the wisdom in it all. He also saw how close it brought the villages together. He never thought that possible, because everyone kept to themselves. Everyone lived in fear. Used to, anyway.

  Braden and Micah opened the southerner’s eyes to a whole new world. So the King of the Aurochs watched, fascinated.

  The ‘cat showed up from nowhere and leaped to the top of the Aurochs’ head. He had successfully avoided the dog pack, but was still nauseated by the smell. ‘Don’t puke on me, little friend,’ Brandt cautioned.

  They all settled in to watch Braden ply his wares, trade for goods that he would bring to the other villages. Tom had been productive and there were a few iron items that Braden would be taking with him.

  Braden told Tom how he had seen blacksmiths in the north crush charcoal into their metal to make it stronger. He knew that they added other metals to the iron, which further improved the strength. They called that metal steel. At some point in the past, someone in the south knew the process because there were steel items in the south, like the small carving knives. Those could have been scavenged, but Tom would make them available to everyone.

  Tom accepted the knowledge as part of his trade with Braden. They shook on it and the deal was sealed.

  Once all the trading was complete, Braden transferred some things to the wagon. When they left, they’d have the wagon and the cart with them. With Bronwyn, no one needed to guide any of the animals. She’d tell them what to do and for some reason, they always did it. Even the King would do as she asked.

  “Where to next, fellow traders?” Braden asked the companions. Micah, like Braden, had not thought that far ahead. Brandt didn’t care, but both Aurochs were coming with them. He needed to keep swapping them out so every one of his people got their turn in the mines. Skirill, Aadi, and G-War had nothing to say on the matter. They trusted Braden and Micah. They knew that wherever they went, if they were together, they would be better off.

  “To Westerly and beyond!” Braden exclaimed. “We take the wagon all the way west, then come back, trading the whole way. I’d like to bring some of those people from Westerly. We could use them here. There’s so much to do. We go to the Western Ocean, and then someday, I’d like to see the Eastern Ocean.”

  Micah stiffened, her mouth drawn tightly closed. “Not yet,” she said quietly. Braden put his hand on her arm.

  “We’ll go when you’re ready. Not before.” He leaned back and looked at the others. “Westerly it is, my fellow companions. The caravan rolls at first light!”

  They always left with sunrise. Braden liked getting that last night’s sleep before hitting the road, even though in the south, there weren’t any roads. Not yet anyway. They were wearing down a trail between Dwyer, McCullough, the rainforest, and Greentree. As they grew, they could improve the trail until it became a road. And then they’d widen it so wagons could pass each other going in opposite directions.

  With the construction of the first wagon, the eventuality of a robust trading network was that much closer.

  In the meantime, they needed to talk with Betty Dwyer.

  No one was in the hut, but they eventually found her tending one of the fields. When Braden and Micah walked up to her, she hung her head.

  “I heard. Are you going to beat me, too?” she said it
as if she both expected and deserved punishment. Micah instantly felt bad, although the man seemed to need the beat-down.

  “We can’t have them acting up,” Braden said, physically lifting Betty’s face so she’d look at him. “Can you control them or not?”

  “We have our moments.” She would commit no further.

  “Where are they?” Micah asked.

  “The river. My boy’s arm still hasn’t healed right. And the other boy’s arm is ruined. Fishing is the only thing they can do with one arm.” Betty started to get defiant.

  “Better than dead,” Micah snapped and stormed off. Braden gave Betty a harsh look before turning away.

  The men were at the river, but seemed to be spending more time lamenting their misfortunes than fishing. They stopped completely when they saw Braden and Micah. She added an extra swing to her step as she sauntered toward them.

  “He cleaned it so leave him alone!” Gravenin said, his arm held stiffly at his side. But it wasn’t bandaged like his companion’s, which was wrapped tightly against his body. The third man already had two black eyes from his broken nose. Both his lips were split and puffy. He backed away involuntarily, glaring at Micah.

  She put her hand on the hilt of her sword, any pretense of a smile gone.

  “Gravenin!” Braden shouted to break the stare-down. Everyone looked at him. “Even your mother won’t protect you. What do you have to say about that?

  “I didn’t do anything!” His good hand flexed and his eyes darted from face to face.

  “We can see that you don’t do anything,” Braden started. “Maybe you should think about contributing more than the next person. Make yourself welcome in this village. Instead of being here with all your friends. Why aren’t you trying to make your mother proud?”

  “Not much I can do with this arm,” he grumbled.

  “Instead of crying about it, why don’t you figure out how you can contribute?” Micah asked.

  “I’m not talking with you,” he said pointedly. Micah responded by pulling her sword out.

  “I think you understand that we would prefer to kill you all, rather than babysit. Here’s the deal. You bring back a basket of fish for everyone’s dinner, or don’t come back at all.” Braden wasn’t serious, but he wanted them to provide something for the village.

  “You can’t do that. We wouldn’t survive out here like this.”

  “Of course we can because we don’t care if you survive or not. Since you know you can’t survive out here, maybe you ought to look at ways you can survive in the village. Now, fill that basket with fish. We’ll be waiting.” Braden nodded to Micah, who backed away from the men, her sword in front of her. When they were far enough, she put the sword away.

  “I don’t know about them. We’ll see if they can catch anything. I think having them hobbled keeps them relatively harmless.” He looked at Micah. Her face was hard. “I know, I know. You still want to kill them.” He pulled her close.

  “We can’t. That’s the easy answer but it won’t solve our problem, which is we need more people, not less. Let it go, lover. It seems like Mick, Fen, and Destiny had things under control. They didn’t back down. Isn’t that what we wanted? Good people to take control and keep control?”

  “I guess so,” she muttered. Braden knew she had a problem with men. If she hadn’t then he would have never met her. She was supposed to be a dutiful wife in a loveless marriage.

  “We make great companions,” he finally said. He hoped Gravenin and his witless friends came through with the fish. Otherwise, maybe they would have to kill them.

  62 – The New Traders

  The village’s celebration was a feast, headlined by Gravenin’s banner catch. This was a huge weight off Braden’s shoulders. Braden led the way in congratulating Gravenin and his friends on their catch. Others followed suit and the men looked like they appreciated it. Maybe they could contribute. Braden had a quick word with Mick about keeping a closer eye. If they were capable of catching this much fish, then the village should welcome them, appreciate what they provided.

  The companions set out from Village Dwyer at sunrise with a fully loaded wagon. Braden felt odd not riding the buckboard, but that’s how it had to be. The young bull Aurochs was first to pull the wagon. He made it look effortless.

  Bronwyn sat astride Brandt’s huge neck with G-War, as usual. She directed all the companions, so Braden and Micah rode without holding the reins.

  Braden rode Max, as usual, while Micah rode Speckles, who pulled the cart with a Dwyer couple who wanted to learn the trade business. Braden could not have been more pleased. They needed traders to ply the routes.

  Braden thought they needed a Caravan Guild to enforce the trade standards, but he didn’t want to run it. Maybe this couple could trade for a cycle or two and then move into an oversight role. There could even be a training center for any trader.

  Micah looked at him. “We aren’t ready for that here. Maybe we can just have open trade. Anyone can trade. Village leaders can enforce the trade standards. You establish those. You dictate. They’ll follow.”

  Braden stroked his braid as he thought. Micah had good points. People in the south had lost the ability to read. He was teaching Micah so that she could better use her neural implant, but it was taking time. He conceded that none of the village leaders would be able to read, ever.

  So the trade rules had to be simple. They had to be spoken and correctly repeated. People remembered in threes.

  “One. Two parties negotiate the terms of the trade.

  “Two. Both agree to the terms and finish with a handshake.

  “Three. If a deal fails, both parties return their part of the trade. No exceptions.”

  Micah thought it over. Was it simple enough? “How about this. One: Negotiate. Two: Agree. Three: Trade and be done. I’m not sure I like the failed deal. Don’t negotiate if you can’t follow through. Delivery is king, which means you have to know that you can deliver to start negotiating.”

  “Well, now. Isn’t my partner the queen of the trade?” He gave her an approving look. “You’re right. Negotiate, agree, and deliver. Even Gravenin can remember that!”

  “After a couple more head stomps maybe.” Braden could feel that in a certain way, Micah wasn’t proud of the beatings she delivered. She took pride in her physical abilities and her superiority as a warrior, but knew that she disappointed Braden when she chose to fight.

  “A head stomp may be in order, but as a last resort. We’ll give the villagers a chance first and see if they can embrace it. Aadi, how do you think the Amazonians will feel about the Three Laws of Trade?” Braden called.

  ‘It would be most convenient as they have three talons. Negotiate, agree, deliver. Yes. I will be able to share that with them. Does this mean we’re stopping in the rainforest?’

  “Yes, Aadi, we’ll stop there. We’ll stop at every trading square all the way to Westerly. What do you think about that?” Braden let Max fall back until he was even with the cart where the couple looked wide-eyed at the world as it passed.

  ‘How about you Skirill, what do you think?’ Braden asked over their mindlink while the Hawkoid flew far ahead.

  ‘Wherever my friends go, I will follow.’ Skirill didn’t participate in the trades. He kept his eyes open, like G-War, and protected the companions as they traded. They owed each other their lives. If only there were Hawkoids in the south. He missed his people, even though had he remained in the north, he would be an outcast. Maybe he was better off here.

  “What do you two think about the Three Laws of Trade?”

  The young couple looked surprised. “We were trying not to listen as you talked with your mate. We know that you are used to traveling alone,” the man, Tanner, said softly. “Can you tell us again?” Braden repeated the Three Laws.

  “Negotiate, Agree, Deliver. It makes sense. You trade that way,” the young lady, Candela, said with more confidence than her partner showed. “We’ll trade that way, too. Wh
at other secrets can you share, you know, to help get our feet under us?”

  Braden was in his element, regaling the young couple with stories of his trades in the north, gold for swords, swords for saffrimander, saffrimander and his wagon for the horses. How to trade each time for just a little bit more, cutting yourself a slice out of the trade as your profit. Trade could never be a completely even exchange. Without improving on the terms, you’d end with nothing.

  Plus, here in the south, the Aurochs got an equal share of the profit for their part in pulling the wagon. So far that meant food, but it was a start. Later it could mean more.

  As Braden thought about it, the miners owed the Aurochs for their work hauling the ore to the village. No, that wasn’t right. The trade was for the labor to build the wagon.

  They were all in this together. They all had a wagon and they all had nothing else.

  Village McCullough welcomed them back. Braden told them that Tanner and Candela would be leading the trade, which meant he let them set up the trade stall while he and Micah went elsewhere and goofed off.

  When they returned, a few trades had been made, with most having gotten more than they cost. Braden would not have made all the trades the same way, but that wasn’t important. The young couple was off to a good start.

  At the next stop, Tanner and Candela saw their first Amazonians. With Aadi, Brandt, and Bronwyn, they handled the trade well. Braden encouraged them to get as much rope as they could. It helped that Braden had brought down a couple fattened bucks to sweeten the deal.

  After their second trade stop, the wagon and cart had more in them than when they started.

  It was coming together nicely. But they would never realize their full potential if they couldn’t document the trades. They needed to learn how to read.