Mom was at the pepper pits, and she was pleasantly surprised to see the new captain when we both arrived, holding our noses.
“Gods, I’d forgotten the reek,” Berkenem said, his voice pitched comically nasally.
I laughed.
“Imagine spending half your day here,” Mom replied. She had her nose cinched shut with twigs and string again and looked a little ridiculous. If the soldier noticed, he didn’t comment.
I ran to Mom and handed her the pouch. I knew it was all in my head, but they felt molten and slippery at the same time. I was afraid to drop them, but it also felt blasphemous to carry so much money.
Did Tacuria have banks? It had patents, so maybe?
“He says, he might be willing to pay two of these!” I told her. This was what I wanted to see from a general. A man who paid his people even while actually fighting to protect them.
Even Mom’s eyes widened when she opened the pouch and looked at the contents.
“A small fortune,” she said, turning back to the soldier. Her eyes narrowed. A shiver went down my spine. It always did when Mom turned on her merchant’s voice.
“A valuable product,” he replied.
“Not this valuable. Not even for every barrel we have,” Mom replied. “What would two of these pouches buy? What’s the catch?”
“The general was impressed with the weapon’s effectiveness. He sent me to retrieve every bit of it you have created. I won’t go so far as to say it will turn the tide, but every arrow in the quiver.”
“The war fares so poorly that the general must rely on a peasant girl’s invention?” Mom asked.
Berkenem frowned. Cheerfulness evaporated at the jab against the general. “The general faces an army three times the size of his own and periodic attacks from rift monsters on his southern side! He fights that you may live this peaceful life!”
“Peaceful! Surely you heard we have repelled our own attacks with numbers five times our own!” Mom said. “Without this, we might’ve died. Can your general say the same?”
I blinked. The paste hadn’t been that pivotal in the attack, had it? I’d laid our survival mostly at Dad’s feet. Was she overexaggerating, or had I just not known?
Berkenem grimaced, but put forth a visible effort to calm himself before meeting Mom’s eyes again. She’d struck a nerve there, and I wasn’t sure it had been wise. Berkenem clearly respected Neogon, which was not something I could say for any of Maulander’s soldiers.
“What exactly are you arguing, Miss Farmer?”
“I know what this coin is for, and we’ll not take it. My daughter has already been dragged away by one incompetent general, and I’ll not have her taken by another, even one with Neogon’s reputation.”
“Wait, what!?” I squeaked.
The captain grimaced. “It seems you have little choice in that regard. She has already been drafted. Awful as that thought is, she owes her service to the crown.”
“Now wait just a minute!” I barked. “This… this is… are you fucking buying me?”
He scowled. “Don’t be crass. The general would very much prefer to have someone able to invent such weapons close at hand. This was to be a… signing bonus. Discovering that you’ve already been drafted makes things simple, but I am not a cruel man, and nor is the General.”
“Mera nearly died once already under Maulander’s command. Added to that, she is injured. The only reason she is walking around right now is the effect of the staff on her back,” Mom said.
Berkenem blinked before turning to me. I was certain he was using observe, and I had the sudden urge to wonder how high his skill level with it was.
“Your foot… you can’t walk? That makes no sense. We’ve just walked here,” he said.
I pulled the staff off my back and held it out. He touched it to examine its properties, but I didn’t let it go.
“Incredible! Who… who crafted this? This town is proving to be a gold mine of talented individuals.”
I flushed. “Uhm. It’s… talent crafted. It wasn’t originally for me, but I… I made it.”
He cocked his head to the side.
“You… can understand why this makes me even more interested in recruiting you. We will do away with the draft. Voluntary service, with a specific term length, and I can guarantee you at least one more bag like this upon the end of your service commitment. A single year.”
Mom also grabbed the staff, pulling it away from the soldier so I could strap it to my back again. “I think there’s room for negotiation here.”
“I’m listening,” he replied.
Captains were meant to be able to work alone in the field. From what my uncle had told me, Captain was the rank where officers were allowed a certain measure of independence in their missions, but Berkenem was new to his rank and unsure in his authority. He would want to complete the task he’d been given, but if he could get an even better deal, he might jump on it.
“You’re already more reasonable than Maulander, then,” Mom replied. “I propose this. Mera is part of the army. She is Elmerina Soldier. They have her features, and I would not have her declared a deserter. However, where do you think a crafter like her will be more useful? There on the battlefield, amongst people she does not know, crafting for people she does not love, with assets she is unfamiliar with? Or here? Here, where she created a war weapon in her spare time?”
The man frowned. He was intrigued, I could tell, and that worried him.
“I fear you are angling towards allowing the girl to remain here, while keeping both those pouches of gold, when I technically have the right to take her under my command and leave you with nothing.”
Mom smirked. “Right. See how well she makes weapons for you then.”
“Hey! I am right here. Stop talking about me as if I don’t have a say in this!”
Both the soldier and my Mom blinked.
“I’m not entirely opposed to returning to the front line, but Mom is right. I’ll do better work here… and… I can promise you a new weapon if you give me six months.”
“Six months might see us all dead,” Berkenem said gravely.
I hesitated.
“Fine. Three months. Leave us the gold, and take our stock of paste right now. Leave us a single barrel for our own protection. In three months, I’ll make you a weapon that will make Eschal tremble. If I haven’t managed to make anything worthwhile by then, you can take all the pepper paste we’ve made between now and then for free, and I’ll come with you. That’ll give me time to heal as well.”
“And if you have made something useful?” he asked.
“If I have, you release me from military service, and take whatever I made for free, while I agree to continue providing for the army.”
“Mera!” Mom barked, but I held up a hand. To my surprise, Mom actually held her tongue.
“In exchange, you send half of what I make to Maulander’s army in the effort to bolster the rift front. Eschal might be threatening you, but it's the Rift that concerns us.”
“Ugh… stupid softhearted…” Mom muttered.
“A mouse could make a mountain in three months with the gold in those two pouches,” Berkenem said. “Half the gold now, and another half when you create something worthwhile.”
I gulped. I had… vague inklings of an idea, but nothing concrete... Gods if only I could make concrete. Still, the more money I had, the faster I could get things done. Plus, it would ease everyone’s worries if I could make sure we’d all have food for the winter. I firmed my gaze.
“Both pouches. I’ll need that to build the infrastructure. But I realize that’s a pretty big gamble for you. I can sweeten the deal. How long are you going to be here, Captain?” I asked.
He paused, thrown off by the abrupt topic change.
“We… however long it takes to load the paste. A day, possibly two? Why?” he asked.
I glanced at his need bubble. A lot of metal, a lot of wood, a lot of rock, and ether dust. I didn’t know him very well, but that didn’t matter when I had enough coin to buy the supplies.
“How would you like a talent-crafted weapon made specifically for you?” I asked. “For the record, I made my dad a scythe. He killed hundreds of trolls and goblins with it. And he’s just a farmer. What might something similar do for you?”
He certainly would need it, too. He needed to kill a winged one after all.
Mom’s own eyes were a little wide when I met hers, but they settled back into a satisfied smile.
“Tell me more,” he said.
We had him.
From there, it was all negotiations. I was given a signed seal, granting temporary reprieve from the front lines in order to pursue new military experiments. I was still Elmerina Soldier, as Berkenem didn’t have the authority to revoke a draft enacted by a general, but he was confident he could convince Neogon to uphold the deal.
He handed over both gold pouches, and suddenly Mom and I were the richest people in all of Pemolar’s Hill. Likely in every town around the Great Ophiscian. I was suddenly on a time limit. I had three months to make something that a magic army would find useful. Pepper paste had been a surprise.
Could I do so again?
As negotiations were winding down, Mom smiled. She was writing on a slim piece of paper, one of the few we kept.
“So, to sum up. We are given exactly one-hundred and four gold coins in exchange for all of the barrels of Pepper Paste we currently carry in stock, save one. Mera has agreed to provide you with a talent-crafted item we believe to be a weapon, as well as any of your men whose crafts can be created in a reasonable time frame the duration of your stay. The nature of talent-crafted items is always circumspect, and the deal will not be nullified if the item is not a weapon.”
Berkenem nodded.
“In addition, Mera has committed to a period of three months to invent a weapon or item that will impress the general and aid in the ending of this war. The successful completion of this task will result in a return to civilian status for Mera, with the stipulation that she commit to selling future products to the military. Half of the stock of this new weapon will also be delivered to the Central War Camp with labor provided by the army.”
Again, Berkenem nodded.
“If she fails in this task within three months, all remaining Pepper Paste will be granted to the army, and Mera will continue her military service under the direct command of General Neogon and whoever he appoints above her. Either way, her ultimate commanding officer will no longer be Maulander of the Central War Camp.”
Berkenem nodded a final time.
“Wonderful! Mera? Would you sign here?” Mom said. She was being unusually cheerful for some reason, and it was weirding me out.
I signed my name.
“Captain? If you’ll do the honors?”
The man took the feather quill and hesitated. “This… the General will not be pleased with this deal. That coin could feed a brigade for nearly a week.”
Mom’s smile faded. “Do you… want some other concession?”
He shook his head. “If Mera fails, then gaining her as a soldier is not as valuable as it would be if she succeeds.”
Mom shrugged. “A wagon loses half its value the second it rolls onto the cobbles. This isn’t much different, really.”
I wasn’t sure how I felt about being compared to a wagon, but I was amused by the fact that, whether wagons or cars, the expression was the same in this world and April’s.
He grimaced. “One… final question. When I first met you, I called you shrewd. Nothing about this discussion has convinced me otherwise. Are you tricking me, Miss Farmer?”
Mom smiled. “I do like you. Yes. Of course, I am tricking you. What merchant would do anything less?”
He turned to me. “Is it safe to assume you don’t want to tell me how?”
I blinked. “Uhm. Don’t throw me in this. The deal seems perfectly fair for me. I have some ideas, but I’ll need to get started fast. If she's tricking you, it's all her.”
“My daughter still has things to learn. Will you sign, or not?” Mom asked.
He sighed before glancing at me a final time. “Gods, I truly hope you deliver.”
He signed the paper.
Your Diplomacy skill has improved by four points!
Your Persuasion skill has improved!
Your Networking skill has improved!
I breathed a heavy sigh. Relief, and fear, and the weight of responsibility settled on me. On the one hand, I’d be able to provide food for the town now, and I could also pay Travis easily for all the arrows he was going to be making.
On the other hand I–!
“Wonderful! I’m so happy to tell you that Mera has crafted a new weapon for you! Would you like to go see it?”
Berkenem blinked. So did I.
Mom’s eyes were alight with a flame that had nothing to do with fire magic.
“I… am confused,” he said.
“You have negotiated for the paste, which we gave you samples of, when you left. However, most of our efforts have gone to crafting a new product. I mentioned it before we parted some time ago? We have called it Pepper Spray!”
The man’s eye twitched.