“What do you mean why am I open so late, are you trying to eliminate the field?” the woman replied as she looked at Max.
“I don’t understand” Max replied.
“I don’t have time to play around with some random male, are you buying anything or not?” The woman asked as Max noticed she eyed his sword in the darkness, the lit torches around them illuminating his weapon.
“I don’t have any money” Max replied.
“Spent it all on that old sword did you?” the woman asked and laughed. “Where is your wife at?”
“I am only 16, I don’t have a wife” Max replied a little embarrassed.
“A big one like you only 16?” the woman said as more of a statement than a question. “I bet your mother has been fending off request for your hand. Any woman would be stupid not to latch on to a possible dragoon rider. That money could be used to grow her fortune or start a business somewhere. Gods knows if you actually win any of these tournaments unless they were nobles it is unlikely you would give them the time of day”.
“My mother is dead” Max replied. “It’s just me”.
“It’s just you?” the woman said as she walked from behind her cart. “As in you have no female family members?”
“I don’t have anyone” Max admitted. “You better keep words like that to yourself. With the tournament coming up, others might see you as a threat and eliminate you before the whole thing even starts since you don’t have a female to care for you”.
“I just got Ma’am” Max replied still confused. “What tournament are you talking about?”
“What tournament am I talking about?” the woman said as she looked at Max as if he grew two heads. “What tournament am I talking about he says, only the biggest thing to happen in Gale in long while. War is supposed to be coming to Gale, Her Majesty decided not to sell the dragoons and griffins she has to the wealthy nobles anymore. Instead there is to be an open tournament, the winner joins the army as gets his very own dragoon or griffin. The runners up get a horse and can become cavalrymen complete with rank. Since everyone might be expected to join the army anyway, every male around will be in the tournaments. The top four get to join the Grand tournament where the princess has said she will marry the winner. Every male is getting ready, I used to sell travel clothes but not anymore. I threw that junk away, way more money in selling armor, even the leather type like I have”.
“You threw away your stock?” Max asked as he looked around.
“I sure did” the woman said proudly. “I tossed it in the alley over there. It was rubbish anyway, I barely made ends meet, I was going to have to ask my husband to get a job. I would have been the laughingstock of my entire family, a merchant not able to take care of her family. I have only been selling armor for two days and already I have made more than I normally make in two months. This is the last of everything I have, I just need my contact to come back and resupply me with more of this stuff. By this time tomorrow I will be out, say are you looking for a job?”
“Y-yes!” Max said quickly not sure if he heard her right over the grumbling of his stomach.
“Well normally I would chase broke males away from my cart but maybe it is fate you talked to me” the woman said as she dug into her cart and pulled out a bun. Max went to snatch for it as she pulled it back. “Now listen up, the man who makes this armor needs help doing so. I have already hired every street rat around to help him out. Do what I say and you will be fed once a day, the more money I make the more likely I am willing to up it to two meals a day. Do we have a deal?”
“Yes” Max said as he eyed the bun. The woman tossed it to him, Max caught it and ate it quickly. He was still very hungry as the woman handed him a handkerchief filled with buns. Max practically inhaled them also as his hunger subsided somewhat. The woman gave him directions and told him to be there when the son came up and ask for Jon. Max nodded and went off towards the alley where the woman said she threw her clothes away at. She had not been lying, still in a nice pile were cheap boots, shirts and pants of all sizes just lying there. Max was amazed no street rat had picked any of this stuff up but thanked his good fortune. Max soon had clothes that fit his new frame, what was even better it covered all his dragon like qualities up, he had gloves, a nice long shirt, a pair of pants that were a little too tight in the crotch area and some cheap boots that the claws on his foot looked ready to bust out of at any time until he stuck some extra material in the toe. Max grabbed the rest of the clothes just in case and wrapped his sword up in it and went looking for a place to sleep. Max figured that since he had to meet this mystery man that worked for the merchant. Max laughed to himself, he was so dumb he didn’t get the merchant’s name or who he was supposed to meet.
Max spent the night curled up in an abandoned building across from his meeting place. He still didn't know the name of this town but figured this tournament stuff had everyone acting strange. The roof was caved in slightly and it let in the draft, but the building he stayed in should have been crawling in street rats. He wondered where did all of them go? They should have been out here trying to kick his ass, not that it would do him any good. As a dragonbreed Max knew from Xander with training and exercise he could become faster and stronger than most humans. Maybe they all had jobs right now, probably helping out blacksmiths and whoever else was profiting from the upcoming war. Max didn’t remember a place to sleep being part of the deal but figured it had to be since the guy he was helping out was close to the place he was lying at and no other person was around him.
Sleep came easy to Max this night, it was the first time in a long time he could remember going to bed on a full stomach. Not only that, he didn’t have to worry about the beast rider students beating the shit of him or worry about the other street rats. What was even better was the fact his scales were extremely tough, laying on the hard ground was nowhere near as uncomfortable as it had been. When morning came Max was already up and dusted off his clothes. Just as he crossed the street he could see the female merchant from earlier. Her hair was gray and she looked older now, maybe fifty or so cycles. Despite the bags under her eyes she seemed cheerful, probably due to all the money she was making.
“So there you are boy” the woman said as she pulled out a key and opened the door. “Part of your duties from now on is to protect this building, if you are working for me, then you sleep inside of it”.
“Yes Ma’am” Max replied as the woman led him into the building.
“Francis” the woman called out as five or so filthy looking boys climbed to their feet. “Francis get out here right now, I have another one for you”.
Max watched as an older man got off of what had to be the only bed in the entire place tucked into a corner. This Francis, was not as old as the merchant and was thinner than he expected from an armor maker. Francis stretched his back and Max could hear it creak from across the room as the merchant walked up to him.
“When are you going to get more items Francis?” the merchant said in a threatening voice. “I already found you a workforce to help you out and I took all of that junk you call armor off your hands and even paid you for it”.
“You paid me for it because if you had just taken it I wouldn’t have made you anymore” Francis replied.
“Now Francis, these boys work for me, not you” the merchant said as she gestured around. “This is the first time they could count on eating everyday, now if you decide to get snippy I will turn them loose on you and take this shithole you call a warehouse. Now where it my merchandise, I will be out of armor by the end of the day”.
“It’s coming ma’am” Francis said defeated. “I’ll have at least three more done by the end of the day if a rush and five more by the end of the week. No more after that though, I don’t have any materials and leather is hard to come by. If you can get me the materials I can teach these boys enough to keep you supplied”.
“Well from now on just focus on leather breast coverings” the merchant said as she look
ed around the warehouse. “They sell really fast and stack real well. If only I knew of an illegal blacksmith, I could really make money then or even a wood worker. I could sell swords and staffs by the dozens along with this armor”.
“I know of a blacksmith making money hand over fist” one of the street rats said, a small boy with shifty eyes and dark curly hair. “But information don’t come cheap, up my meals to three a day and I will tell you where to find him”.
“Don’t you mean our meals mouse?” another street rat said, this one about 14 or 15 and had matted red hair.
“Yeah, what he said” mouse said as he looked at the merchant.
“Why you little shit I oughta-“ the merchant began as Mouse cut her off. “You oughta do nothing, if me and these boys walk your stuffed. You think you are the only one hiring street rats around here? The merchant Anne has a whole army she is training to fight to see which one is most likely to win the tournament. She’s planning on adopting him so she can get some of that big money from the crown”.
“Don’t forget the baker” another street rat replied. “She has been selling so much food since everyone keeps working themselves to starvation she has hired two street rats. I think it is only a matter of time the blacksmith is either pinched by someone else looking to do what you are doing or if he starts hiring street rats himself to look for buyers who know how to keep their mouth shut”.
“Your tip better pay off” the merchant threatened. “Where is this blacksmith, what quality of work does he have?”
“Shitty quality but he can get away with it” Mouse replied. “He buys old horseshoes, farm equipment and anything else metal and melts it down. From there he just throws it in a mold and waits for it to cool and shapes it just a little. He aint like the proper blacksmith, the Merchant Daphne’s husband and sons. They beat on iron rods with a hammer and keep returning back and forth to the fire, but the swords don’t have to be as perfect as that. They only have to hold up during training and the tournament, they don’t need and edge really which is why he is making so much money. Cheap bastard wouldn’t give me sword even after I led two customers to his door and even stole an old chain for him”.
Max listened to the boy called Mouse describe where the merchant could find the blacksmith. Max thought this was poor etiquette telling on another male but figured the politics here were different. After the merchant left, which Max found out her name was Clara Francis took out half-finished leather armor and started working on it.
“No offense to you but this is the shittiest armor I have ever seen” Max said as he looked at the armor. From Xander’s memories he had seen form fitted and hardened leather armor, this looked like a couple of sheets of thick leather stacked on top of each other and threaded together. There were no designs, no over lapping, no anything.
“Because that sadistic bitch forbid me from making anything up to my skill level” Francis replied. “It was just as the boy said, shitty quality but easy to pump out. There are other leather workers in town, you must be new so you don’t know who they are. Their armor is a lot better than this shit, but it also cost 10 times as much to make and the cost to the customer is higher still. Clara is going after the poor folks with dreams of grandeur, people who are stupid enough to believe they’ll be riding dragoons and being kissed on by princesses”.
“You are not going to try out for the tournament?” Max asked.
“Shit no, but these lads are” Francis replied. “We got a deal going, I am going to give them each some armor, in return they find buyers for my better works. I can’t let Clara take all my money but I do admit with her I am making more money than I ever have since all my pieces have a guaranteed buyer. My brother wanted in on it though, good thing he learned to make half assed swords”.
“Your brother” Max began, “he is the blacksmith?”
“Of course he is the blacksmith” Francis replied. “I don’t know where you come from but us poor males have to stick together. Who do you think got this lot a job working here for food? My brother is an idiot, but a very lucky idiot who used to watch the blacksmith’s for fun. He can’t get any metal out of ore or anything, but he was smart enough to figure out how to melt things down. Where he got a mold at for a sword is anyone’s guess. His swords are discolored and shitty looking, but they will sell, here catch”.
Max saw Francis kick away some fabric and pull out a dull looking sword and toss it his way. Max caught it by the hilt and almost laughed. The sword he had was about the same size but they couldn’t anymore different. This sword was pitted in some places and looked like two or three different types of metal was used to make it. The balance was horrible and since it was all made from one piece the grip was horrible and still had jagged pieces of metal jutting out that hadn’t been sanded.
“I have sold three of those so far but that one is the shittiest of the bunch” Francis admitted. “My brother can make five of those a day, Clara will sell them for about twenty coppers a piece probably more and give him five coppers a piece for it. The same price will probably go for these cheap chest protectors and I’ll probably get paid the same”.
“You set this all up” Max said shocked at the man’s smarts. “The street rats, the selling of armor, everything. Here I was feeling sorry for you”.
“Oh don’t feel sorry for me” Francis laughed. “As for these street rats they aren’t big like you are, each of them didn’t even have a gang or were mistreated in the one they were in. Now they are eating good, have a job and even got new clothes out of the deal from Clara. What’s better than that is I don’t even have to operate from the shadows anymore, I have Clara’s protection and she will vouch for me if someone tries to take this place. What’s better than that is the fact she will start bringing me supplies for free. My brother too in the form of beat up metal. Now enough yapping come over here so I can teach you all how to make a quick and easy sword belt. The sword belt and sheathe will take amateurs like you lot all day to make five.
Max looked at the so called sword belt and saw it was even cheaper than the chest protector. It was literally one long strip of leather which was tied together in a big knot. With a bit of heavy thread the scabbard was nothing but a piece of leather folded over itself and knitted closed on the open end. It fit the sword perfectly though but it was still very cheaply made. Max made one on his first try in about half a mark, he could make five of these before the sun was highest in the sky, although he did cheat a bit. He went to a corner and took off his glove and used his claw on his index finger to punch through the cheap fabric in order to make the scabbard.
“Can I have one of these?” Max asked Francis. “I have a sword hidden across the street and I would like to have something to hold it in”.
“You don’t need this cheap shit” Francis said as he walked over to a corner and moved some old cloth out of the way. “Here you go, take this scabbard. My price is that if you see anything else we can exploit let me know. I plan to get rich off of Clara and find me and old addle brained wife and live out my life in relative peace. If I were one of you lot though, either you or Mouse I know what my plan would be”.
“And what is that Francis?” Mouse said as he looked from side to side, reminding Max of the rodent.
“With your small size you can do good stuff in the griffin tournament” Francis admitted. “You should be in training, learning your sword or maybe even the staff. Pay off a couple of people to throw a fight to you during practice, before long you will have some female wishing to have you for her daughter. They will be dreaming of that griffin money from the Queen and happy to know there is a good chance you will die in the war and leave them with a big payout. Now since that could be true for all of us anyway, at least you could pick the prettiest one and have her take care of you. They will try to rush marriage before the tournament, if you lose in the first round who cares, you will already have a meal and a home. Same for you big fella, I would learn the sword and see what I can get out of it”.
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br /> “And who would teach us our weapons?” Mouse asked. “I was lying through my teeth about street rats getting hired to learn to fight. They are getting hired alright, but as sparring partners and they are getting the stuffing knocked out of them the Merchant’s Anne’s fat arsed husband”.
“What do you mean by who?” Francis asked in mock defense. “I will have you know that I was a decent bandit once, well at least until the boss got split from ass to ear by a dragoon rider”.
CHAPTER 5
The Tournament
Max had been in Yelda for almost two months now, the tournament began today and every man within three days walking distance was now in the small city. Max had not heard from Xander, the dragon must have gone his own way and considered sharing some of his life as payment for services rendered. Max had so far kept his secret of being dragonbreed and stayed bundled up even when he knew it was scorching outside, not that he could tell. Max through his dragon had an incredible tolerance for heat, so much so that he often stayed cool while his friends were sweating. Max could tell today would be abnormally hot, maybe that would favor him in the tournament.
Many of the street rats were entering but their chances did not look good. Although Francis offered to train them Max only had a few lessons before calling it quits. Francis only knew a few moves and was decent with his footwork, once Max learned that he found it impossible to spar with the others. His sword was way too strong and even if it wasn’t he could see he was too fast. Even when he made a big mistake he could recover before anything could be exploited, it was because of this he could often score on Francis. Well that and the fact that he was bigger by almost a head. Max had kept up the exercises Francis showed him just out of boredom to have something to do with the other boys, but Max could tell everything was coming to an end.
“Alright Max” Rolfe said, one of the blond street rats. “We never leave this place but all of us want to go out to either see the sights or pick some pockets before the big contest. From what I hear all kinds of people made the trip here after what happened at the last tournament”.
Max the Dragon Warrior Page 3