Author: Kathy Rose
Date: 2022-02-23T18:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Fantasy
Description: Gil returns, determined to change his family’s fortunes forever. – With more knowledge of William’s past than before, he sets out to make his father the face of a brand new business… Unbeknownst to Gil, the king’s request has created a chain reaction outside his family's control. For Gil, turning his dreams into reality will take a lot more than hard work. He will need luck... Can he manage the stress that comes with it? Being stuck in a kid's body was already hard, but what if part of him really is a child? Join Gil and his friends as they take on new challenges and adventures.
Publisher: Kathy Press Publishing

FAMILY

My Life As a Merchant

Copyright © 2022 Kathy Press Publishing LLC

All rights reserved

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

Cover design by: Kathy Press Publishing LLC
Library of Congress Control Number: 2018675309
Printed in the United States of America

Contents

Copyright

Chapter 1: Internal Policies

Chapter 2: The Council of Merchants

Chapter 3: Plans For Roland And William

Chapter 4: A Hard Day

Chapter 5: The Semi-Finals

Chapter 6: The Tournament Ends

Chapter 7: Kids Free-For-All

Chapter 8: Bandits

Chapter 9: Family

Chapter 10: Gil’s First Day

Chapter 11: Gil Buys a Bakery

Chapter 12: Saddles and Things

Chapter 13: Custom Leather Work

Chapter 14: Mr. Stevens Returns

Chapter 15: An Important Meeting

Chapter 16: The Daily Grind

Chapter 17: An Idea

Chapter 18: Alcohol

Chapter 19: Trial and Error

Chapter 20: Free Samples

Chapter 21: Gil’s Proposal

Chapter 22: William’s Whiskey

Chapter 23: A Forgotten Life

Chapter 24: Tasting

Chapter 25: It’s Marketing

Chapter 26: Trips and Money

Chapter 27: Building a Brand

Chapter 28: Better Business

Chapter 29: The Contest

Chapter 30: Signs

Chapter 31: Liquid Gold

Chapter 32: Trouble Brewing

Chapter 33: Luna’s New Job

Chapter 34: Old Habits

Chapter 35: Stabbed In The Back

Chapter 36: Visitors

Chapter 37: Differences

Chapter 38: A Chess Set Fit For A King

Chapter 39: Prezels

Chapter 40: The Clothes Make The Boy

Chapter 41: Luna, Judy, and Gil

About The Author

Chapter 1: Internal Policies

While the West family attended their tournament, Roland reported the king’s request for a chess set to the head of the nearest Merchant’s Guild. Being in Kingstown, the message had to be delivered in person to one Mr. Heart. Roland had dealt with Mr. Heart, or John Heart, as his friends called him, a few times before.

While Roland made most of his contracts through Brighton, he was no stranger to the Kingstown Merchant’s Guild. Roland was well aware that setting up a meeting with the man could take several days, but any request from the king had to follow proper channels. Drawing up a letter, he walked over to the guildhall and delivered it to one of the apprentices.

“This is for Mr. Heart. Please get this to him quickly as I have an urgent matter to discuss with him,” Roland said.

The apprentice took the letter, read it, and quickly turned to walk away. Roland watched as the young man left with haste and smiled, pleased to see how quickly he moved. However, the smile disappeared fast as he thought back to a prior conversation with Mr. Stevens.

Roland knew Mr. Stevens had worked under Mr. Heart shortly before he was reassigned to Brighton. While it was technically a promotion, their conversation had hinted at the real motive behind Mr. Stevens’ transfer. Mr. Stevens’ expertise had threatened Mr. Heart’s position.

Whatever the reason, Roland quite liked having Mr. Stevens in Brighton. It gave him easy access to a far more knowledgeable individual within the Merchant’s Guild. Had it been up to him, he would have taken the news to Mr. Stevens, but unfortunately, there was a chain of command that Roland had to follow.

Turning, Roland left the merchant’s hall to return to his store, knowing Mr. Heart would call for him when he was ready. Unbeknownst to him, though, Roland had just started a chain reaction that could never be undone. The small note waiting on Mr. Heart’s desk was about to change everything.

After his fourth break, Mr. Heart returned to his office to find a folded paper on his desk. Sitting down, Mr. Heart reached out and picked it up with a slight growl. Unlike most merchants, Mr. Heart hated paperwork. It was the most loathsome part of his duties, and he often had his assistants complete it for him.

Reading over the note, he immediately stood and called out, “Lara, get in here!”

Quickly, a short woman with glasses stepped into the room. “Yes, Mr. Heart?”

“I need you to schedule a meeting with Roland, and in the future, please screen these sorts of notes. There’s no reason for me to need to read this and then tell you to schedule something, otherwise why even have you?” Mr. Heart scolded.

“Yes, Mr. Heart, of course, I will do better in the future. I’m sorry, Mr. Heart,” Lara apologized.

Turning, Lara left the office and immediately set to work scheduling a meeting. A new letter was drawn up and given to a runner standing by to deliver to a merchant apprentice. Once the letter made it to an apprentice, they ran over to Roland’s shop to deliver it.

The young apprentice stepped inside the busy shop, unaware of who he was looking for. Around him were several aisles full of various goods. Some of the shelves held fine cutlery and dishes. Moving past those, he found himself surrounded by expensive fabrics. Everyone around seemed highly important, and it was impossible to know who Roland might be.

“Hello, can I help you?” a female voice came from behind the apprentice.

Turning around, the young apprentice saw an older woman standing before him. “Oh, I have a note to deliver to erm,” he looked down at the paper in his hands, “Roland.”

The woman looked him up and down and then settled her eyes on his robes and guild badge. “Merchant’s business?” It was a rhetorical question as she turned and began to walk off towards the store’s back.

“Uh, yes, I have a message from Mr. Heart,” the apprentice said, beginning to follow after her.

No further questions were asked as she led him to a door at the back of the building. After knocking three times, she waited patiently for an answer. It took so long for any sound to come from the other side that the apprentice began to worry.

“Is Roland even…” the apprentice began to ask but was interrupted by the door suddenly opening.

“Yes, what is it?” Roland asked, standing in the doorway.

“A messenger has come for you from the guild,” the lady said, and then turned to return to her duties at the front of the store.

“He, He… Hello, I have a message for you from Mr. Hea, Heart,” the apprentice said, stumbling over his words.

Typically, apprentices ran messages for more minor things like orders for more paper or bringing back lunch. To have a message directly from the master merchant in Kingstown was important. The young apprentice had no intent of messing it up, but he couldn’t help feeling nervous.

“Already? That was quick. I figured Mr. Heart would be home for the day,” Roland said with a slight smile.

The apprentice said nothing back but held the paper out to Roland. Taking the note from the boy, Roland immediately opened it up and frowned. While it was the meeting he needed, it wouldn’t be for another three days.

Reaching into his pocket, Roland took out two coppers and handed them to the apprentice for his trouble. “Thank you,”

With that, the apprentice left, returning to the guildhall. Having so much time between the current day and the meeting, Roland busied himself. Such duties included checking the Emporium’s stock and ensuring everything at the Kingstown branch ran smoothly. The delay of the meeting didn’t sit well with the merchant, and he wondered if he should have mentioned the king in his original letter.

The meeting day arrived, and Roland, always punctual, had to wait in a chair. Fortunately, it wasn’t long before he was shown into the office by Mr. Heart’s secretary. Before him sat a plump, short man behind an ornate desk of very high-quality wood. As Roland stepped inside, the man did not attempt to look up from the paper in front of him.

“Your afternoon appointment is here, Mr. Heart, a merchant named Roland,” Lara introduced.

Mr. Heart finally looked up, squinting his eyes at Roland and wearing an unmistakable frown. “Afternoon appointment? I didn’t schedule an afternoon appointment.”

“No, I scheduled it for you. It has to do with the note from a few days ago,” Lara said.

“That note again?” Mr. Heart let out a loud sigh of disappointment. “Lara, never schedule an appointment for me in the afternoon. I can’t think well after lunch and only schedule appointments within the same week for urgent matters. I’m a very busy man. I can’t meet with everyone.”

“Yes, Mr. Heart, of course, I’ll make sure to do that in the future. I’m sorry, Mr. Heart,” Lara apologized.

“This is an urgent matter,” Roland said.

“Of course, of course, I wasn’t denying that whatever business you have with me isn’t important. All business matters are important, after all. Please disregard anything I said. Lara is a new assistant. You know how it’s a challenge training new people,” Mr. Heart replied.

“My business, it concerns the king,” Roland said.

Mr. Heart’s eyes widened at the mention of the king, and he immediately stood. “Lara, please excuse us. Have a seat here.” Mr. Heart motioned to a chair in front of him. “The king, you say?”

“The king ordered a chess set. From me,” Roland said. “It’s a product I sell. You may have heard about it, as the game is quite popular.”

Roland took a seat in front of Mr. Heart’s desk and held the paper he had received from the king’s advisor out in front of him. Reaching out, Mr. Heart took the form from the merchant. Looking it over, he could see the matter at hand went higher than himself. While it was true that the Merchant’s Guild didn’t have elders, they did have a Council of Merchants who handled matters of such importance.

“Chess, yes, of course, anything the king is interested in, I’m quite familiar with, I assure you. I see… I see. An order from the king. I haven’t gotten one of those lately.  Okay, well, this matter should be brought to the council's attention. They handle all royal family affairs, you know,” Mr. Heart stated matter-of-factly, relieved he wouldn’t be doing any paperwork himself.

“I see,” Roland replied, not understanding.

“So for now, you should hold off on making any plans,” Mr. Heart said. “Also, this type of news is best kept a secret for as long as we can. I’m sure you, of course, understand.”

Roland nodded his head but did not comprehend what Mr. Heart was saying. “Can I tell the creator of the game?”

“Oh good heavens, no. Not yet. That will need to wait. We don’t want too many people knowing. There are a lot of back-end matters to be taken care of first. Things like cost and travel, those sorts of details,” Mr. Heart said.

Mr. Heart smiled. Getting news like the one he had just received was a rare occurrence, even in the capital. Still, he wanted to project an air of authority and confidence. Merchants, especially those who had never provided anything for the castle before, had to be managed carefully.

Looking over at Roland, he could see that he was not born in the kingdom. That detail would complicate matters. Mr. Heart moved his head from one side to the other and tried to think of what he could say.

“I understand,” Roland said, with a slight sigh. “The king’s message was delivered by his advisor, Percy.”

“Percy? You say. Interesting, That's the king’s closest advisor. The two are almost inseparable.” Looking over the request, Mr. Heart quickly jotted some things down at his desk and moved back to Roland. “I will keep this order from the king for now, but you will get it back, I promise.”

“I’ll need it for the luncheon,” Roland said.

“Luncheon? What's that you say?” Mr. Heart asked.

“The letter, it’s not just an order. It’s an invitation to dine with the king,” Roland said.

The letter from the castle was unusual, as it asked for the merchant and the game’s creator to dine with the king. At least it had been with the last king. The new king’s habits were not yet fully known.

“Of course, of course. You don’t need to worry. I will personally handle it,” Mr. Heart replied, sounding less sure of himself.

Mr. Heart held the message in front of him and quickly reread it. After that, he looked up at Roland and smiled. Roland watched as Mr. Heart took the precious paper and placed it on his desk with his notes.

“Remember, this should be kept strictly confidential, for now,” Mr. Heart said. “Not even the creator of the product should know. Besides, I don’t think Lord Drace, the one in charge of the territory, and the royal family are on too good a standing.”

“What?” Roland asked, sounding alarmed.

“Oh, Lord Drace has recently been cut from any royal funding,” Mr. Heart explained. “I guess he’s having difficulty paying his bills.”

Only then did Mr. Heart realize he had maybe said too much. While it was true Lord Drace could not borrow any more funds from the Merchant’s Guild or the castle, such matters were probably better kept secret. The financial information of lords was not a matter to discuss as lightly as he had.

Roland nodded, looking longingly at the order sitting on the desk. It was the only proof he had of the royal decree and invitation, so he wasn’t sure about leaving it. Not being born in the kingdom, Roland knew he would be the first foreign merchant to meet with the King of Vale.

“Everything is in the right hands now. I promise you that. I’ll meet with the Council of Merchants myself and notify you as things progress. Of course, it may not be immediate that you hear from me, but rest assured, we will be working hard to ensure this request is fulfilled correctly,” Mr. Heart assured, noticing Roland’s doubt. At that, Mr. Heart stood up and walked to the other side of his desk to walk Roland out of his office. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must meet with the council at once to fill them in on this matter.” Mr. Heart held a hand out towards the door, gesturing that the meeting had ended.

“But what about the invitation?” Roland asked.

“Oh, there’s no time set for that. The Council of Merchants will contact the king directly to schedule it. We can’t have you or the inventor showing up unannounced; that wouldn’t do at all. There are lots to figure out before that dinner can be had, from when it will be, who will attend, and what you will wear, but we will make sure to communicate that to you once it is determined,” Mr. Heart explained.

Roland reluctantly stood, knowing his time in Mr. Heart’s office had already been overstayed. When he had first received the request, he had been overjoyed, but now his high spirits had been broken by the bureaucracy accompanying it. What seemed like a simple matter was going to be far more complicated. Stepping out of the Merchant’s Guild, Roland sighed.

Chapter 2: The Council of Merchants

As soon as Roland was out of sight, Mr. Heart picked up the king’s decree. Holding the paper, he grinned and rubbed his fingers on it. There was not a doubt in his mind that the document was genuine. The castle’s paper was the finest one could get in all the kingdom, having its own unique texture. Tucking it into his pocket, he looked around to make sure he hadn’t forgotten anything. Seeing the notes, he reached over and grabbed them. Pushing open his door, Mr. Heart looked over at his secretary.

“Lara, I’m so glad I had you scheduled that appointment for this afternoon. In the future, though, meetings for important matters like that should be for as early as possible,” Mr. Heart said. “Imagine making a merchant with a request from the king wait three days to see me.”

“Yes, Mr. Heart, of course, I’ll make sure to do that,” Lara responded, forcing a smile, but her eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

With a nod of his head, Mr. Heart said, “I will be going out for the afternoon on important business. I’m not sure when I will be back. If anyone stops by, tell them I will be in tomorrow.”

The message was hidden away in his suit pocket. Mr. Heart headed out onto the busy streets of Kingstown. A short while later, Mr. Heart stood just outside the door of the residence of one Mr. Spangler. Mr. Spangler was the person who oversaw all the workings of The Merchant’s Guilds. If Mr. Heart was important, then he was doubly so. Mr. Heart adjusted his attire, smoothing it down to look as presentable as possible.

Unlike Mr. Heart, though, Mr. Spangler didn’t put on airs to seem important; he actually was. Mr. Spangler had overseen the council for many years, and nothing seemed to surprise him. Reaching out, Mr. Heart grasped the shiny door knocker and let it fall against the door. With a thud, the sound reverberated out.

One of Mr. Spangler’s servants answered the door and, upon seeing who it was, led Mr. Heart out to the sunroom. There they saw Mr. Spangler sitting at a table, enjoying an afternoon snack. Mr. Spangler looked over at his guest. As the council director, he was an older man with white hair and a look about him that said he was more intelligent than most.

“What have you got, Heart?” Mr. Spangler asked.

“It’s a decree from the king,” Mr. Heart answered.

“Hmm… What does the little brat want now?” Mr. Spangler asked. “Let me see it.”

Mr. Heart held out the paper, and Mr. Spangler snatched it from his fingers. Unfolding it, Mr. Spangler read its contents to himself. His eyebrows rose at one part of the notices, but otherwise, he made no discernible reaction.

The relations between the castle and the Merchant’s Guild, which had been very favorable during the last king’s reign, were now somewhat strained. It wasn’t so bad that the two sides were fighting, at least not yet. It was just that King Leopold had created new laws that the guild saw as dangerous because they affected its bottom line.

The king’s, protect the people initiative, might be helpful for the people, but for the Merchant’s Guild, it meant they could no longer do business as they had, and more rules and regulations were thrust upon them. Such a development was troublesome, and the Merchant’s Guild needed to get back on the king’s good side.

“It appears he took quite a fancy to a game called chess,” Mr. Heart replied.

“I’ve heard of that,” Mr. Spangler said. “Maybe we can use it somehow to gain the king’s trust. Hmmm… Send out a notice that we are calling a meeting of the Merchant’s Council.”

“What? Of course,” Mr. Heart said, trying to remain calm.

“Yes, this invite opens up a lot of opportunities for us. A lot,” Mr. Spangler said, primarily to himself.

With the matter settled, Mr. Heart left the house. He wasn't sure the business called for a full meeting of all the Merchant’s Council heads, but if Mr. Spangler said to set one up, he would do that. Hailing another cab, he was soon back at the bank, barking out orders for his employees to send out the requested notices. The Merchant’s Council consisted of every head of every branch of the Merchant’s Guilds throughout the entire kingdom.

Mr. Heart personally oversaw the creation and departure of all the invitations. For a meeting like this, everything had to be just so. Mail was a tedious process in the kingdom, and it would be days, possibly longer, before some of the Merchant Guild’s heads received their invites.

It was slightly over a week later that Mr. Stevens, the merchant head of Brighton, received his invitation. Unlike the other ones sent out, his appearance at the meeting was mandatory. Even if it hadn't been, Mr. Stevens would have seen it as such. The conference of the Merchant’s Council was a big deal in his eyes. It was a chance to rub shoulders with the actual decision-makers behind the Merchant's Guild.

Always looking for a way to escape the hell he called Brighton, Mr. Stevens was more than pleasantly surprised by the note before him. Reading it over for what most certainly was the twelfth time, Mr. Stevens smiled. Stepping out of his office, he looked over at his secretary.

“Could you, please, call James to my office?” Mr. Stevens asked.

“Right away,” his secretary replied.

James was Mr. Stevens’ driver and would be an essential part of any journey to Kingstown. When James arrived in his office, the two began planning their trip. Kingstown was a several-day journey from Brighton village. While Mr. Stevens didn’t care much for traveling, the matter at hand was an exception.

According to the letter, the meeting was related to Roland, a merchant whom Mr. Stevens had been watching. Reading between the lines, what he had put together was Roland had gotten a request from the king. Such a deduction was easy since the meeting involved the Council of Merchants, and they were almost exclusively engaged in royal matters. While not listed, Mr. Stevens filled in the blanks about the item in question, having some knowledge of Roland’s recent contracts.

It was almost assuredly a chess set. The excitement around the product seemed to have no end, and money had just kept pouring in all winter from its sales. Based on his astute observations, Mr. Stevens found out about the king’s request far sooner than the other guild heads. As he prepared for the journey, Mr. Stevens saw a glimmer of hope that he might be able to escape his lonely fate in Brighton.

Another week passed after the notices had been sent out before the meeting was scheduled. Being one of the furthest away from Kingstown, Mr. Stevens had only arrived the night before. The following day, though tired, he wore his best suit as he made his way up the steps of the council building.

Mr. Stevens had visited the council building once before, so he knew to expect a room packed with people thinking they were each more important than the next. Many of the merchant guild heads dreaded these meetings. However, the event before Mr. Stevens was something he personally looked forward to. Stepping inside the room, the roar of voices was intense, as everyone was mingling with each other.

Making the rounds, Mr. Stevens joked and carried on with the other Merchant’s Guild heads. At this point, it was all small talk while they waited for others to arrive. Eventually, the talk began to quiet down as everyone found their seats. It was then that Mr. Stevens strode past those sitting in the lower areas and up to the table at the front.

It was unusual for anyone with such a low-standing territory branch as Brighton to be seated there. In the center of that table sat Mr. Spangler, director of the Council of Merchants. Mr. Stevens’ invitation had stated he would be sitting at the table for the meeting.

Sitting down to the right of Mr. Spangler, Mr. Stevens looked out at the room in front of him. Mr. Stevens could feel all the eyes watching and wishing they were him. It was a prestigious position, he found himself in, and he intended to make the most of it.

Aside from Mr. Stevens sat two other men, Mr. Jones and Mr. Lee, while on the other side of Mr. Spangler sat Mr. Heart. Those three men were head merchants of the busiest guilds in the kingdom. Roland and Gil were not in attendance; while they may be the ones the meeting was about, they were unsurprisingly not invited.

To start the meeting, Mr. Spangler brought a wooden mallet down onto the thick table. The room grew quiet as Mr. Spangler cleared his throat to speak. Only master-level members were to attend a meeting like this, and almost all of them had done so. In total, there were twenty-one people in the room, including Mr. Spangler. While Mr. Spangler didn't oversee a single branch directly, he was the person who watched all of them, the boss of the bosses.

The meeting had been hastily organized because the news they were to discuss was vital. On the surface, it might appear to be a simple request for a chess game by the king. However, looking past that, it was just the thing the council had been waiting for.

“The king’s call for a chess set has opened an opportunity,” Mr. Spangler announced. “Aaron Stevens, here, is the current guild master in Brighton. It’s a small village on the edge of Lord Drace’s territory.”

Mr. Spangler had used Mr. Stevens’ first name. That was common at these meetings. Usually, the heads of the various Merchant’s Guilds were only called by their last names when working. However, they were called by their full names in meetings, which was uncomfortable. Mr. Stevens wasn’t sure if that was the purpose or if it was for another reason.

“Lord Drace?” came a voice from the floor.

The comment was ignored, but Mr. Stevens knew it was a subject they would be visiting. Mr. Spangler had a set way he intended to begin the meeting, and he was not going to stray from it. There was an order to how the meeting went, and while shouts from the floor were common, they were outside of protocol.

Mr. Stevens thought about how his territory was so small and unknown that Mr. Spangler had to relay where it was located. A slight murmur escaped from those listening as they had all received a special message about a month prior that they were not to do any business directly with Lord Drace. Mr. Spangler brought down the wooden mallet again, and the group quieted down.

“The matter at hand has nothing whatsoever to do with Lord Drace. That is an entirely different business. The king wants a product called a chess set.” Mr. Spangler paused here for effect. “The creator of that game lives just outside Brighton. What can you tell us about the creator of the game, Aaron Stevens?”

“Chess was created by a clever young boy named Gil West, who happens to be the son of William West The Dragonslayer.” Mr. Stevens was interrupted here by a loud murmur from the crowd.

“The Dragonslayer’s son?” asked someone.

“What does it mean? Is it a way to use The Dragonslayer’s popularity?” questioned another.

Everyone in attendance, of course, knew of William West. Though they hadn’t heard anything from him in some years, the story of him killing a dragon was widely known. William, for the most part, was a celebrity in the kingdom. Hearing that William’s son had created the game caused quite a stir. Even when Mr. Spangler brought down the wooden hammer, it took the audience some time to quiet down.

“While William’s talent is well regarded, his youngest son has shown an uncanny ability to create new things. Among those is the game of chess. It’s a popular game that I'm sure many of you in attendance have heard of.” Mr. Stevens paused to catch his breath.

“I’ve seen that game. It’s all the nobles can talk about when they stop by for business matters,” someone in attendance said.

“It is very popular,” another said.

“I’ve played it. It’s a wonderful game of strategy,” someone chimed in from the center of the floor. Upon him speaking, several others turned in their seats, clearly surprised that whoever spoke had gotten to play the game.

“Well…” Before Mr. Stevens could say anything else, Mr. Spangler beat the table to quiet the crowd with his mallet.

“We will have order,” Mr. Spangler said. “What do you know about the merchant?”

“The merchant who received the message is Roland, and he’s originally from the empire of Saladin,” Mr. Stevens said. “Roland has been a merchant in the kingdom for some time. He mostly sells goods of high quality to nobles.”

“So the king has invited both of them to lunch? The boy and the merchant?” Mr. Spangler asked, already knowing the answer but opening the topic to the floor.

“He did,” Mr. Stevens said.

“What?” Someone in the crowd gasped.

“A foreigner, visiting the castle? someone said.

Has the king gone mad?” another asked.

Several of the group seemed to think that inviting a foreigner to the castle was an embarrassment. Mr. Spangler raised a hand instead of using his hammer, to quiet the crowd. Everyone’s eyes fell on Mr. Spangler.

Chapter 3: Plans For Roland And William

Once everyone had quieted down, Mr. Spangler lowered his hand. “This is the point I think we need to discuss. Having a foreign merchant going to the castle by all rights should fall under our purview.” Letting that line sink in for effect, Mr. Spangler smiled. “This is a new king, and he very likely will do things differently from the last one. We have to adapt to these new ways. Some might think that the king’s invitation, including someone from outside the kingdom, to be a disgrace. I like to think of it as new opportunities for us.”

“What kind of opportunities?” a voice from the group asked.

“The best kinds. The kind that makes our guild stronger, richer, and more prominent,” Mr. Spangler said. “The question I ask myself is how can we turn this request to our favor? I for one, see endless opportunities being presented just through trade.”

“Saladin is rich in luxury goods,” someone said.

“That’s true, silk, gold, and silver, any one of those could bring us a fortune,” another person added.

“Exactly! It is widely known that their empire is extremely wealthy. If we could establish better trade relations, that’s a market we could do something with. Let the king bellow and howl however much he wants. It won't matter if we control the kingdom’s economy,” Mr. Spangler said.

The crowd, listening, began to gleefully talk amongst themselves about what Mr. Spangler had just said. Money did overrule the law, and the richest could have more power than the king himself. The conversation seemed to be about how the guild could control the flow of luxury goods into the kingdom.

Mr. Spangler had gotten the reaction he was going for, and for the first time, he let the crowd talk and interrupt the meeting as much as they wanted. A grin crept across his face as he watched them. What he proposed was what the Merchant’s Guild was to him. It was a force that was unstoppable. They alone determined the fate of the kingdom.

Eventually growing tired of the noise, he reached out for his wooden mallet and brought it down on the table. The crowd grew quiet and turned their eyes back up to the front. Once the crowd settled down, Mr. Spangler raised his hand off the table.

“We will break here for lunch and gather back afterwards. Use that time to discuss your ideas and be sure to submit all of them for review,” Mr. Spangler said.

Council meetings were not just one-way presentations. Everyone in attendance, Mr. Stevens included, was expected to formulate their ideas and turn them in at the end of the gathering. If one’s ideas were accepted by Mr. Spangler, that could lead to promotions and other benefits for those guilds.

As the crowd began to disperse, Mr. Spangler looked over at Mr. Stevens. He could see the new person at the table was slightly uncomfortable with his position. Mr. Spangler liked that about Mr. Stevens; how comfortable the others at the table had become bothered him.

“Well, how do you think it's going?” Mr. Spangler asked, looking directly at Mr. Stevens.

“Quite well,” Mr. Stevens replied.

“You will, of course, be joining the rest of the table for lunch. We have already made a reservation at a local eatery, just for us.”

“Of course,” Mr. Stevens said.

Following along with the rest of the members of the head table as they stood and left the council building, Mr. Stevens was the last member of the group. It was a short walk as the restaurant they had reserved was directly across the road from the council building. Looking up as he walked into the place, Mr. Stevens read, ‘The Amber Brothers’ on the establishment's sign.

It was a restaurant he had heard others mention he should visit if he were ever in Kingstown. Entering the place was odd, as one would expect it to be bustling at that time of day. However, the place was set up for just the five of them. The head members of the council had reserved the entire restaurant, which could have easily sat fifty or more.

As they found their seats, Mr. Stevens looked around. The building was decorated in a specific cultural style that Mr. Stevens didn’t know, but it was relaxing nonetheless. Unwrapping his shiny silverware, he placed the thick cloth napkin over his lap.

“So we have Roland and Gil. Who else will be attending the meeting?” Mr. Jones asked.

“Well, I feel we should send another person from Gil’s family as he's only a child,” Mr. Stevens answered. “Otherwise, I think we might face some issues. William has been known to be stubborn in the past.”

“It would be something if his father came to the castle,” Mr. Spangler said, seemingly lost in that thought. “Can you make that happen, Mr. Stevens?”

“Of course, he can,” Mr. Heart answered. “Stevens here is quite the talented man.”

“I don’t know for certain,” Mr. Stevens said, giving Mr. Heart a stern look. “I think it might be hard to do.”

There was a slight pause at the table as they each glanced at Mr. Heart to see his reaction. To Mr. Stevens' relief, Mr. Heart did not respond and kept his face expressionless. While Stevens was sure Heart took offense to his contradiction, it was clear he had no intention of challenging him in front of Spangler.

“He has an older brother? Is that correct?” Mr. Lee asked.

“It is,” Mr. Stevens replied. “Cam is his brother’s name.”

“I think he will send the boys,” Mr. Lee said. “It’s what I would do. It’s a good opportunity for them to see the world, to grow.”

Food began to arrive at the table, and soon it was completely covered in delightful, colorful dishes. There was far more food than they could eat, and Mr. Stevens couldn’t help but feel the amount was wasteful. Looking at the others sitting there, he became aware he might be the only one who thought that way.

Was it possible that he didn’t have the same ideas as the rest? All he had wanted for so long was to be a member, but after joining them for lunch, he couldn’t help but feel that what he was seeing did not live up to his expectations. Was the council nothing more than five older men sharing an overpriced meal?

“I think Mr. Lee might be right,” Mr. Spangler said with a sigh. “Let’s set up the matter as if the two boys will be the ones to attend. That should at least allow us to get some details worked out.”

“How will we make the gift from us and not the merchant?” Mr. Jones asked curiously.

“Money, of course,” Mr. Heart replied. “The guild will pay for everything. We could even use one of our carriages for the trip.”

“That’s an excellent idea,” Mr. Spangler said. “We can also pressure the merchant. Meeting the king is a special thing, but getting a once-in-a-lifetime contract offer for a merchant should have more value to him.”

Mr. Spangler seemed to be thinking something over as he stopped talking. Reaching up, he scratched his chin and tilted his head. Mr. Lee looked at Mr. Jones and then at Mr. Heart. Not content to leave the conversation stalled, he nodded.

“This merchant, Roland, can he be controlled?” Mr. Lee asked.

“Every man can be controlled; you just have to find out what they want,” Mr. Heart said.

Mr. Stevens thought that was incredibly humorous coming from Mr. Heart, who only seemed motivated by money. Looking over at Mr. Spangler, he could tell the man was working out something in his brain. Mr. Lee, who had been interrupted, hit the table, making a sound to get everyone's attention.

“Maybe we should use that offer of trade for after the visit to make sure everything goes perfectly, the way we want it to,” Mr. Lee said.

“We still have that trade fleet that’s just sitting in port, right?” Mr. Spangler questioned. “We could offer Roland a ship or two. That should be more than enough to gain his loyalty.”

“We do have the fleet, a terrible expense that,” Mr. Heart said. “I see the bills go out every month. Just sitting there, you know.”

Mr. Stevens, whose part mainly was over, sat at the table and listened to the others talk. Only some of what they discussed made sense to him. The rest was above his level of knowledge. Somehow, they had changed from four older men eating lunch to the wheelers and dealers who would set the future course of the kingdom. When their lunch was over, they returned to the meeting hall to discuss the details further.

The second half of the meeting was more question and answer than Mr. Spangler detailing what was happening. Eventually, the topic of Lord Drace was brought up and given the floor time it deserved.

“On the matter of Lord Drace. I know we are to cut off all forms of credit to him. But won’t that destabilize that region?” someone asked.

“It will eventually,” Mr. Spangler replied. “How long depends on how good of a lord Drace is.”

“I can answer that,” Mr. Stevens jumped in. “Lord Drace is not capable of holding the region together more than a year or so longer. He has already raised taxes to extreme levels, and now that the region can no longer offer or take loans, it’s only a matter of time before the people revolt.”

That news set off the crowd. A revolt, even against a weak leader like Lord Drace, had the potential to ripple out to other regions around it. Prices would be unstable, leading to less luxury goods sales and possible shortages.

“I see,” Mr. Spangler said. “Will his incompetence jeopardize the king’s request?”

“I don’t know for sure,” Mr. Stevens responded. “I think we can get the chess set matter done before the territory completely collapses. Hopefully, he just won’t hear about the matter.”

“Well, that’s certainly good news. What of the guild in Brighton?” Mr. Heart asked.

Safety was a concern. If a Merchant’s Guild was caught up in a territory's disputes, their assets could be leveraged. Mr. Spangler looked over the sea of faces and nodded. They would have to take a more proactive stance in dealing with Lord Drace than he had initially wanted to.

“If possible, I would like to request a couple more royal guards,” Mr. Stevens said.

“I second that,” Mr. Lee said. “If possible, we need enough of a force there that the guild becomes a third party in any revolt.”

“Calm down,” Mr. Spangler ordered. “We have seen lords come and go in the past. This is nothing new. The guild will be here far longer than any lord.”

“Could we appoint a lord?” a voice from the crowd asked.

It was not a new idea, and the Merchant’s Guild had had a hand in such matters in the past. Everyone grew quiet as they contemplated the idea. Mr. Stevens put on an air of importance.

“I think we should have a hand in appointing a new lord for the territory. I thank William The Dragonslayer should be our choice,” Mr. Stevens suggested.

“What, The Dragonslayer?” someone asked.

“Yea, why not him? The last king made him a noble, didn't he?” someone else said.

It was true, William, who was of common birth, had been granted a noble title and last name by the former king. This type of thing was unheard of, and no one in the room could remember it ever happening before. William would be a lord of the people, well-loved by commoners and nobles alike who had all grown up on his story.

“Is that even a possibility?” Mr. Lee asked.

“I think it might be,” Mr. Stevens said, unsure of his words.

“I propose a vote then,” Mr. Spangler said. “By a show of hands, all those in favor of replacing Lord Drace with William The Dragonslayer.”

The motion was voted on. As Mr. Stevens looked out at the raised hands in the room, his heart skipped a beat. The support William had in the council was overwhelming. There were still so many matters to attend to before such a thing was possible, but it could happen with the council's support. It was late into the night when the meeting was declared finished, and everyone went their separate ways.

Unknown to Roland, who had received the order for the king's chess set, he was stuck between two powerful groups. Namely, the royals and the Merchant’s Guild. While he wasn’t significant enough to attend the meeting, he would play the role of both their pawns.

On the other hand, William also had a surprise waiting for him. The council was now going to start making plans to appoint him as the next lord of the territory currently run by Lord Drace. It would be unfair to call William a pawn in the plains as he hadn’t even been placed on the board yet.

Chapter 4: A Hard Day

Meanwhile, back in Clearfield, Cam and Gil were waiting for the next tournament battle to start. Gil did so by going over the numbers while Cam analyzed the fighters. It was down to a combatant named Moore, Cam's choice, and one named Ross. By Gil’s calculations, Ross should be the better of the two.

Gil grew nervous about betting on the matches, having been visited by a strange man named Duncan. Trying to hide the encounter from Cam, Gil did his best to remain calm. Cam didn’t notice any signs of his brother’s stress. Instead, his mind was focused only on betting and winning.

Gil’s statistics and Cam’s intuition were at odds for the first time. Gil wondered if it would happen more often the closer to the finals they got. The stats I have are likely incomplete or lacking. I did create the fighter chart quickly, and we don’t have that many battles to go on yet.

Eventually, they decided to go with Cam’s instinct and placed their money on Moore. The fight was very close, but in the end, Ross won. Gil’s data proved to be more accurate, at least for that fight, than Cam’s instincts.

While it was impossible to tell if that would always be the case, Gil felt a little better about his statistics. Losing a silver wasn’t that big a deal, and Gil was slightly relieved as they had won so many. Maybe this will take some attention off of us. It did seem to bring Cam back to earth on the whole betting thing, which was also nice.

Gil had expected them to lose a match or two, so he had already figured in those losses. Cam sat next to Gil, his mouth open in disbelief. They had lost a silver coin due to him after winning so many. While it hardly mattered, Cam took losing personally. Gil reached over and patted him on the back.

“We lost,” Cam said.

“I know, it was bound to happen. We have, after all, been betting on fighters with minimal information,” Gil replied.

“Should we stop betting?” Cam asked.

“Well, we could. Or we could hedge our bets by only betting on William’s matches,” Gil said. “Though that would potentially mean fewer returns. I think we’re ok right now to keep doing what we’re doing. A few losses aren’t going to matter in the long run.”

“Ok,” Cam said, with a worried expression across his face.

A single loss didn’t mean Gil and Cam had lost anything. They had been gambling with money they had already won. Gil could see that Cam liked gambling and wondered if it might eventually become a weakness for his brother.

It was now late in the day, and only a few more fights were left before the first day of the event would end. Cam climbed the stairs and placed their bet on the next battle. Fortunately, that time they both agreed. After it was over, Cam collected the silver coin and placed another bet just as they had been doing.

“We won!” Cam exclaimed.

“Indeed we did.” Gil smiled.

Gil placed the silver coin Cam brought back into his pouch; it was starting to bulge. The boys settled back in for the next match. Another fight, another win. The system the boys had in place seemed to be almost infallible. Soon, Gil wondered if the time of day would affect the upcoming fights.

“Do you think visibility will play into the next one?” Gil asked curiously.

“I don’t know. It is getting harder to see,” Cam said. “Father always said that when it gets dark, one has to rely on more than just skill.”

“So experience?” Gil questioned.

“I don’t know. It was just something he would say,” Cam said.

The next two contestants entered the ring, and Gil could see that one of them was a tall, athletic woman. Gil compared her physique to bodybuilders from his world. According to the board, her name was Mosh.

“That girl looks like the winner,” Cam said.

The man she was fighting against was Bill Trax. The two boys agreed to place a bet on her, and Cam climbed the steps while Gil watched the two take their starting positions. The horn blew just before Cam returned, and the match was underway. The fight proceeded just as the boys had thought it would. After some back and forth, Mosh easily won.

“I think we should stop betting for now,” Gil suggested.

“Are you sure?” Cam asked.

“Yes, it’s getting too hard to read the board, and I don't want the lack of visibility to skew our numbers,” Gil said.

“Ok,” Cam replied, disappointed.

Having chosen correctly, Cam collected their money. Returning to his seat, Cam handed the two silver coins to Gil. Before the next match started, Gil barely managed to stuff them into his small coin purse.

Only two more fights took place, and as Gil had thought from the stands, it was impossible to tell what had happened in the ring, as it was so dark. It was now fully nighttime, and the cat woman who had kicked off the fights returned to the area to end the day's activities.

“That ends our first day of fights! I hope you all enjoyed yourselves. We started with a field of over sixty fighters. Now we only have six left. Tomorrow will kick off with the last preliminary fight, and then it will be on to the semi-finals!” Precious announced. “After that will be the finals. Will Brom once more win, or will there be an upset? Visit us to find out.”

With that, the fights for the day were officially over. William left the waiting area and met up with the boys by the front fence. The first day of battles eliminated most non-ranked combatants. Only William and the woman, Mosh, were left from the unranked.

“Well, what did you think?” William asked.

“It was less exciting than I thought it would be,” Gil replied, referring only to the matches and not to the betting the boys had done.

“Yea, they didn’t seem very good,” Cam said. “I wish I could have competed.”

William nodded his head. “The semi-finals will fix that. There you are going to see ranked warriors and people with actual skills.”

In total, William had five matches that first day. When the family returned to the hotel, William lay back on the bed and relaxed. While the battles had all been relatively quick, he was tired. Fighting in a tournament was different from regular sword fights; it required more holding back and precision.

Being successful, William had one more preliminary round before reaching the semi-finals. Instead of going out for food, William decided to send the boys out to get some dinner. Once they returned to their room, William reached into his coin purse.

“Hey Cam, why don’t you and your brother go grab some food?” William said.

“Just us?” Cam asked.

“Yea. I think if you can find any, some ice for my shoulder might help,” William said, handing a silver coin to Cam.

As soon as Cam took the money, William lay back on one of the beds. Before the boys could leave the room, William was already asleep. No amount of talent could stop an individual from becoming exhausted after the amount of fighting he had done.

Gil thought it odd that William would allow them to go out by themselves in a strange city, but taking a look at him, he quickly understood why. While the matches William had fought looked relatively easy, they had been a lot harder on him. Quietly, Gil unloaded some of the coins they had won to make walking easier.

After that, the boys set out for some food and ice. Leaving the hotel, they moved out into the city. Like the night before, the place was noisy, and the streets were full of people. The boys joined the flow of the crowd.

“We’ve made a gold coin each,” Gil said. “Betting on the fights.”

“That much?” Cam’s jaw almost dropped to the floor.

“Yep, here, take half the money. It barely fits in my coin pouch,” Gil said.

While it was one gold in amount, it was ten silver coins, and they took up a lot of space. Gil handed the coins to Cam. That action freed up some much-needed room for the next day's bets.

Cam smiled as it was the most money he had ever carried. After a moment, though, his expression changed to a frown. Cam shut his eyes hard as he remembered Gil’s accident vividly. A single gold coin had been flicked out of the carriage after Gil was rundown, and Cam had been the one to pick it up.

At the time, it had brought a mix of emotions to him, as he had been in awe of the amount but sickened from seeing his brother on the ground. Cam knew his brother had saved his life that day, and he wasn’t sure he could ever repay him. Opening his eyes, a smile returned to his face as he watched his brother walk ahead of him.

Gil had purposely waited until they were away from William to tell Cam the actual amount, as he wasn’t sure how their father would react to their gambling. Relieved of the extra weight, Gil looked back at Cam and smiled. Around them, Gil and Cam saw several participants from the fights taking a break, enjoying themselves. Their behavior was in stark contrast to that of William’s, who had passed out. Should we add a category of age to our statistics?
As William says, the tournaments are a young man’s game.

Fight all day and party long into the night seemed to be what the fighters did. Gil motioned to a closer restaurant than the one they had enjoyed the night before, and Cam nodded as they moved in that direction. It was a food stall with no tables or chairs to sit at.

Looking over the posted menu, Gil could tell that the place served two types of sandwiches. Like most businesses in their world, they only had one base product, but you could get it spicy or regular. Gil was trying to decide between them, and Cam went first, seeing his brother's hesitation.

“I’ll have the spicy beef,” Cam said.

“Give me two of the regular beef,” Gil said, having made up his mind. “We will also need a cup of just ice.”

The man behind the counter nodded. “Your total will be nine coppers.”

Cam gave the attendant a silver coin and took his change back. Shortly after, the sandwiches and ice were handed over the counter to the boys. Cam took hold of the food, and they walked silently back to their room. Once inside, they woke William up, giving him the cup of ice for his shoulder.

“How’s the spicy beef?” Gil asked.

“It’s good,” Cam replied while taking a drink of water.

“We should probably all get some sleep after we eat,” William said. “It will be a big day tomorrow.”

With their bellies full, everyone eventually found some much-needed rest. William, tired since the family had first arrived back at the hotel, slept soundly. The following morning, a sunbeam found its way past the curtain on the window, waking Gil. The last day of the tournament was there.

Francis met them outside the hotel, just as he had before. Getting into the semi-finals looked to be a reality, and he was in a good mood. William even looked better, having gained some much-needed rest.

“That was a good first day,” Francis said. “Now, all you need to do is win one more match.”

“Yea, it was almost too easy,” William answered, trying to hide his sore right shoulder. “I wonder what the semi-finals will hold?”

Gil could see that William was thinking about the matches before him. On the other hand, Francis seemed only interested in the last preliminary fight to meet his obligations. Reaching the fenced area, the group paused.

“We will be watching,” Cam said, waving at his father.

“You are going to win it all,” Gil added, nodding.

“You think so? I haven't been in a tournament in a while,” William replied, trying to act humble when the same thought had occurred to him.

William and Francis went one way, while Cam and Gil took their usual seats in the stands. It was easier to pick out William among the fighters, with far fewer on the field. However, they could also see more clearly what his competition looked like.

“There’s Mosh down there again,” Cam said, pointing to her.

“Yep, and there’s Brom. He’s who they're expecting to win,” Gil said.

“So the others are.” Cam paused, trying to remember their names from the day before. “Lorenzo, Peter something, and Count Bilden?”

Gil looked down at their papers. “Peter Cadfael, according to our data, isn’t that great. I think we can safely count him out as any real competition.”

“Yeah, I remember him. Now that there’s less of them… does Lorenzo look familiar to you?” Cam asked.

Gil squinted his eyes. It was hard to tell from where they were sitting in the stands. “I think so?”

Cam stared at the man for a long time before finally exclaiming, “He’s a knight! Lorenzo’s the knight that was with the paladin two years ago!”

“From the festival?! I can’t believe you remember that.” Gil looked at Cam, surprised. “We should go back sometime.”

Cam nodded in agreement. “So the last one then is Count Bilden. I think he fought well, but he looks weird.”

Watching William, they saw him do a few practice swings. It was not long before names were written down on the board and activities resumed. The two names written down were Drago Rose and Mosh. Cam was eager to place a bet while the money was still even.

Gil handed Cam a silver coin to bet with, and Cam made his way up to the top of the steps. Returning to his seat for the match, he nudged Gil and pointed to William. Gil nodded his head as they waited patiently for the battle to begin.

Precious, the cat-girl announcer, entered the circle. Walking around the edges, she came close to the crowd. Holding up the same device as before by her mouth, her voice was amplified and easy to hear. Behind her, a long tail twitched from side to side.

“Welcome back! We have an exciting group of matches for you today. The first match is preliminary to decide which unranked combatant will be moving on to the semi-finals. Speaking of those semi-finals, we will finally get to see Brom, our current champion, fight!” Precious paused here. The crowd went wild, and Gil could feel the excitement in the air.

“So who will it be? Who will get a chance at the three gold coins? Will it be Brom again? Or will one of the other talented warriors finally take him down?” Precious paused before waving and blowing kisses at the fans, who cheered wildly for her.

As Precious moved out of the ring, the official with the golden horn placed it to his lips, sounding the signal for the fighters to enter. Mosh took her position on the far side, while William took his position on the other.

Some of the group watching moved closer to the ring as the next horn blast sounded. Mosh proved to be more skilled of a fighter than Gil had thought. Lunging at William, he too was taken off guard and moved from his starting position.

A flurry of sword blows back and forth caught the crowd’s attention, and Gil could hear shouts of excitement around him. The fight playing out before them was the best one they had seen so far. It wasn’t two inexperienced fighters going at it. William was displaying his true abilities for the first time.

“I don’t think I could beat her,” Cam said. “She’s really good.”

“Do you think Father stands a chance?” Gil asked.

“Oh, I think he will win, but this fight is going to take a lot out of him,” Cam said.

Gil thought that over. It was true that William was exhausted the night before. William’s right shoulder had also been bothering him. Considering those conditions and the last preliminary fight, he would still have the finals to contend with.

The fight between Mosh and William lasted a good half hour. Eventually, William found his opening and seized it. With a quick sweep of his sword, he cut into the woman's arm. With that victory, he moved up to the semi-finals.

Precious moved out into the ring, and the crowd cheered as it cleared for the next group. “There you have it, folks! What a fight. The final five combatants for the semi-finals have been decided! We have our current champion, Brom, Lorenzo, Count Bilden, and two surprise wild cards, Peter Cadfael and Drago Rose.” Precious smiled at the crowd. “Only one of these fighters can go on to be the champion of the tournament.” Precious waved and turned to leave the ring once more.

It was then time for the semi-finals to start. Unlike before, all the warriors were matched and written down on the board simultaneously. The crowd had also grown, and Gil concluded that many more people were interested in seeing the finals. There was a reasonable delay before the semi-finals started, and Gil could see William stretching out on the grass, over by the other fighters, trying to recover from his last battle.

Chapter 5: The Semi-Finals

According to the board, William would be fighting Count Bilden next. Looking over his notes, Gil could see that both fighters were pretty equally matched. William was better overall, but the count’s attack was so good, Gil had given him a six out of five.

Count Bilden was the fighter who had loudly claimed to have been trained by The Great Ghast. Like Williams’, Bilden’s other matches had been very short affairs. They were also much closer in age than the rest of the group. What Gil and Cam had seen was that he was very skilled with a sword and had an exceptional attack. The boys anticipated the semi-finals to be very exciting.

As it was the first fight of the semi-finals, Gil decided he should be the one to place the bet. Gil was interested in what odds they would be given and thought it best to inquire about them himself. Climbing to the top of the stands, he waited for his turn behind the others, placing bets.

The line seemed longer than it had been before. Looking over those waiting, Gil concluded that the end of the tournament was far more attractive to spectators and gamblers. However, with the slanted odds, Gil wasn’t sure how good of an idea it was to make bets on it.

Even with all the people waiting, the line moved relatively quickly. Soon, Gil was at the front of it. The man looked at Gil and nodded, as if they were old friends. Letting out a grunt, he squinted at Gil.

“What kind of return will I get on Drago?” Gil asked.

“A silver will pay five coppers,” the man replied.

It seemed that William was favored over the Count, no doubt because of what Gil had said to Duncan. Still, Gil understood. Gambling was a business, and it was meant to make money for the person running it. Mitigating one's losses was to be expected.

Gil nodded and gave the man a silver coin. “Bet on Drago Rose.”

The man took out a piece of paper and scribbled something on it. Then he handed it to Gil, who looked down at it. It was a useless gesture, as once more Gil found himself unable to read what the man had written. Returning to his seat, Gil sat down next to Cam.

“William is the favorite in the next fight, so it won’t pay out as much,” Gil said.

“What do you mean?” Cam asked.

“Well, the semi-finals are weighted by who the man taking bets thinks will win,” Gil replied, hoping that Cam understood.

“I don’t understand,” Cam said, tilting his head in one direction.

“In short, we will get five coppers for a bet of a silver coin. Instead of two silver if William wins,” Gil said.

Cam nodded. While he still didn’t understand fully, it was clear that they would get less money. William was the only fighter who had a qualifier fight before the semi-finals began. Gil couldn’t help but think that weighing him so far above the count was a little unfair.

Gil looked over his statistics sheet and could see that he hadn’t calculated a fighter’s age or fatigue level into the stats. Gil wondered if he had overstated William’s abilities to Duncan. Still, he wasn't about to recommend to Cam that they place a bet against William, as he was sure Cam would vehemently oppose any idea of it.

Cam had made it clear that William was the most skilled fighter in the tournament. It was unknown if that was because, like Duncan had said, William being Cam’s father made him the best or if his actual skill did. Gil was starting to get nervous. Unlike the earlier bunch, these men all looked like they could take care of themselves.

Brom hadn’t had to fight in a single qualifying match. Meaning, he was fresh and ready for his first fight. Having not seen him do anything but practice, Gil wasn’t sure if the numbers he had written down were correct, as they were all guesses. Is it possible that not fighting yet could hurt him? William’s fight could also have been a warm-up that Brom is missing out on. It’s just too hard to tell.

Precious entered the ring once more to introduce the next fight. Though she hadn’t done so for the preliminaries, Gil could tell that the semi-finals were a much bigger deal. The official with the horn followed her about, waiting for the signal to start.

“We have quite the match ready for you! The first fight of the semi-finals will be between Drago Rose and Count Bilden,” Precious said, pausing for the crowd, who took the news as a chance to cheer and carry on. Once the group had quieted down some, she continued. “So who do you think will be the winner? Will it be the distinguished count? Or an unknown newcomer?”

William and Count Bilden entered the ring. However, instead of taking their usual formations, they played to the crowd. William held his hands above his head and waved them about, while Count Bilden did roughly the same. It was odd behavior, and Gil, thinking it over, concluded that someone had told them to do so.

A loud horn blast sounded, and the two combatants took their starting positions. The sound brought Gil back to reality. William was on the same side as the boys. As Count Bilden lunged forward, the fight started, with him taking the offensive position.

The count’s attacks drove William back almost to the line. Gil worried that William might step over it. It was the first time the boys had seen William pushed so far back in a match.

The attacks of the count were noticeably far better than any the boys had seen during the tournament’s first day. Count Bilden’s offense seemed flawless, but William was not yielding more ground to him. Moving back, the Count regrouped, and William regained some footing, moving away from the edge.

The count went on the offensive again, but William dug his heel into the soft ground to help steady his stance. Twisting his foot three or four times, he gripped his sword at the ready with both hands. The count lunged forward just as he had before, but instead of fleeing backward, William met the blow head-on.

The sound of metal on metal rang out, and the crowd cheered as they watched. The count proceeded to attack with a flurry of blows, and William countered each one. In between the shouts of the group, the sounds of the swords hitting each other rang out.

It was an exciting match, and the crowd seemed evenly divided between the two fighters. Both the count and William were very skilled with their swords. Locked in close combat, it was all strike and counter-strike. The count was mainly attacking while William was on defense.

While practical, William’s defense looked sloppy against the count’s superior attacks. William managed to repel them, though it looked to be by sheer luck. The count, surprised, eventually backed up, exhausted. While the count was trying to recover, William moved quickly forward with an onslaught of his own. It was now William attacking with the count on defense. Gil saw the first sign that William might stand a chance with their roles reversed.

Something was off about the count’s defensive stance. While on the attack, the count looked flawless. However, his defense looked much like Gil’s, with his legs wavering. Though he managed to block William’s attacks, he did so narrowly, making William’s previous blocks look amazing in comparison.

Gil noticed that William’s attacks were not even some of his better ones. One found its way through the count’s defense. An enormous roar erupted from the crowd, and Gil joined in.

Looking over at Cam, he could see his brother following the action. While not a blow that was likely to bring blood, it was still a sound hit. The count looked surprised and moved further away from William.

“Another good push like that, and Father will win,” Cam said.

Gil nodded, agreeing with his brother. The two warriors went back and forth several times. The count’s attacks were perfect, but William blocked them each time. After several strikes, William would drive the count back to his starting position to regain his composure.

William’s blade finally found its mark, cutting into the count’s shoulder. The expression on the count’s face was something to behold. It was a mixture of confusion and disappointment. With that, the horn was blown, and William had won his first semi-final match.

A small break occurred while the count’s name was removed from the board. The next semi-final match was between Brom and Cadfael. Cam and Gil watched closely, eager to see Brom’s first match.

“You should put money on Brom,” Gil said.

“Yea, I think he will win even though we haven't seen him fight,” Cam said, looking over at the colossal man waiting for the match.

Cam started the long walk to the top of the stands. Once there, he placed the bet on Brom. As he was expected to win the whole thing, that meant that a silver coin would only return three coppers.

While Cam was disappointed with the money they would get from a victory, he was pretty sure Brom would easily win. Returning to his seat with the betting slip, Cam saw the two fighters already in the ring. Brom was much larger than Peter Cadfael.

Brom was a large, burly man whose shirtless body was covered in muscles. About his waist, he wore a red sash. Being taller, Brom also had a more extended reach than his opponent. Lifting his arms into the air, he let out a loud roar.

Precious entered the ring, blowing kisses out to the stands. “The next match is one you’ve been waiting for! Brom, our current reigning champion versus Peter Cadfael. Who do you think will win?” Precious asked, pausing for the crowd. A loud chant of “Brom” rose from the spectators in the stands.

The horn sounded, and the fight began. Peter was quick to lunge forward to attack. Knowing that he would have to take the initiative early in the battle, Brom easily dodged the attack and then went on the offensive.

Brom did not disappoint, easily winning the battle in what must have been a minute at most. It was the quickest fight of the tournament. Gil was disappointed by the results, even though they had won their bet. With the fight being so short, Gil still couldn’t fill out the correct numbers for Brom.

It was impossible to see how Brom would stack up against William with such a quick match. Cam collected their money and brought it back to the seat with him. Once there, he handed it over to Gil, who kept track of their winnings. Gil put the money in his pouch with a sigh.

“William is up next, and he’s fighting the knight we saw in Brighton,” Gil said.

“I'll place the bet,” Cam replied.

Gil smiled as he looked up at his brother. “Sounds good.” Gil flipped a silver coin to Cam.

Cam climbed to the top and placed a bet on Drago Rose once more. The boy’s money would only return three coppers on a silver, as William was again favored to win. Turning back to move down the steps, Cam could see that the cat-girl had already moved into the ring.

“This fight will determine which of these fighters will advance to face off against Brom! We have the mysterious Drago Rose. Who is he, and where did he come from? We don’t know, but he will be facing the valiant knight Lorenzo! All this is for your viewing pleasure.” Precious was really playing up the next fight.

Gil watched as the two contestants entered the ring. Just like before, both contestants were working the crowd. William slashed his word out in front of him, cutting the air rapidly. While Lorenzo, the fighter on the side of the stands, bowed at the crowd.

The horn sounded, starting the match. The two warriors sized each other up cautiously and then merged in the middle of the ring. With a loud clang of steel on steel, the crowd came alive. Gil could tell that William was the people’s favorite to win this battle from the sounds around him.

Time and time again, the two combatants clashed in the middle of the ring. A quick exchange of swordplay, and then they would separate. The match was at a virtual standstill, with neither fighter seeming to have the upper hand. Lorenzo appeared to counter every attack William could muster. After what Gil had calculated to be over an hour, William finally found an opening in Lorenzo’s defense and made his strike.

The hit had been on Lorenzo's side, and a trail of blood flowed from it as he walked over to the medical tents. Winded, William raised his hands in the air as the crowd cheered. The short sword above his head wavered as he held it, and his right shoulder dipped down, causing his body to be slanted.

“Do you see the way he’s holding his sword?” Gil asked.

“Yea, that last fight took a lot out of him,” Cam said.

Cam’s words were accurate but straightforward, and Gil wondered how much of an effect that would have on the last match. With the victory, only two fighters remained: William and Brom. Gil sighed. It was becoming evident that his statistics should have a category for fatigue. Doubts began to form in his mind about whether William could win the tournament for the first time.

Chapter 6: The Tournament Ends

Just as Gil had worried, it was only a few minutes before they were setting up the next fight. The two fighters had already entered the yellow circles. William looked tired; he was bent over, trying to catch his breath. Worn out from the long match he had just had with Lorenzo.

“Father’s not looking very good,” Gil said.

“Don’t worry about that. He’s just catching his breath,” Cam replied.

“I know that Brom is a monster, though. Just look at him.”

Cam looked over at Brom and nodded his head. “Father will win.”

Cam’s faith in William was unshakable, and in some way, it encouraged Gil. Looking at the two fighters, it appeared as if William might fall at any moment from pure exhaustion. Gil was hesitant to bet too much on the last fight, but they had made a tidy sum. The final match was also at even odds.

“How much should we bet?” Cam asked.

“We have done quite well, but I don't think we should bet more than a gold,” Gil replied.

“A gold coin? That's way more than we bet on any other fight,” Cam said, letting the information sink in. “That’s five silver coins each.”

“Yea, we can afford it. Besides, my data and your instincts both say William’s going to win,” Gil said quietly, looking over at William, who was still breathing heavily.

“That much?” Cam’s jaw almost dropped to the floor.

Gil passed Cam the first silver coin from his pouch. Soon, Cam was holding a handful of them. It was a lot of money, and the coins clinked as Gil counted them out one by one. If they managed to pull this off, each boy would make almost two gold coins apiece.

Cam looked over at the fighters one more time. His faith in William was starting to shake a little. Biting his lip, he regained his composure and turned to climb the steps. Gil was happy Cam that placed the bet because he wasn’t sure William could win.

“This is it! The one you have been waiting for. Can Drago Rose, against all odds, overcome the unstoppable force that is our current champion?” Precious smiled. “What you are about to see is the final match of the tournament, and the winner will receive three gold. So get ready because it's about to begin.”

The crowd cheered wildly, and Precious held a paw in the air as she swirled her body around. Facing the group, she began to blow kisses to the public as she left the ring. The starting signal blew, and both fighters entered. Brom flexed his bulging muscles as he moved around the outside edge of the ring.

It was like watching the start of a wrestling match as Brom beat his chest and bellowed out what sounded like a growl. William was much more subdued, having already taken his starting position. Holding his left arm high in the air, he turned slightly from one side to the other so the crowd could see him.

Eventually, Brom faced the crowd and shouted, “Victory, this day will be mine.”

That was followed by another loud roar, which was joined by cheers from the crowd. After that, Brom took his starting position on the side of the public. The two fighters looked at each other, and Brom held his sword high over his head. It was clear to see that he was trying to psyche out William with his size alone.

Brom was easily a full head taller than William. A giant by human standards and was probably close to seven feet tall. Being twenty years or so younger and in far better fighting shape, he looked physically better than William.

Gil looked at the two and thought it appeared to be a very mismatched fight. As the starting sound echoed in the crowd's ears, the two fighters cautiously moved towards the center. Brom was the first to attack, and William easily repelled the blow.

The cheers from the crowd were so loud that Gil couldn’t have spoken to Cam if he wanted to. William then went on the offensive against Brom, who quickly knocked his attack to the side. The two fighters went toe-to-toe for some time.

It was a very different look than many of the fights, where the combatants tried to keep their distance. Gil wasn’t sure, but he figured that William’s fatigue was why he had gotten so close to Brom. He’s probably trying to recover by having to move less.

With the two fighters locked in, what would be a long back-and-forth, attack and defense pattern, the crowd watched from their seats. Occasionally, cheers would emerge as one fighter seemed to gain the upper hand, only to lose it again.

Everyone watching was trying to determine which would break first. The fight seemed to be at an impasse, but one couldn’t turn away. It was as if a fighter could find an opening at any moment.

The battle continued with neither fighter showing signs of letting a strike through their defenses. Brom was the first that seemed to be growing impatient, changing his position to a slightly further distance between himself and William. That was likely to use his downward strike, his most powerful attack.

William had hoped to keep Brom close so that he couldn’t use it. Having failed, though, all he could do was brace for it. Finding the opportunity to make such an attack, Brom raised his sword high above his head.

William, seeing the attack, prepared for what was to follow. Brom brought his sword down with his full force. A loud clang of metal rang out, and the crowd seemed to all exhale at once. Cheers rose up, seeing William had deflected the blow.

While William had stopped the fierce strike, it was not without consequences. Looking at his sword, he could see that Brom’s blow had cracked it and taken a chunk out of one of the sides. While not a severe matter yet, it could become one. Also, removing that much steel meant the blade was now truly unbalanced and harder to wield correctly.

Many strong fighters had failed to stop that attack. William, having been successful, sent another rise through the crowd. After failing with his overhead slash, the two fighters once more moved closer together.

Back and forth, the rhythm of the fight went. At times, it appeared that William would win. Other times, it looked as if Brom would. Gil looked around at the crowd and could see that the final fight was living up to everyone's expectations.

Able to distance himself from William again, Brom brought down his sword from a high attack. The sound that rang out was different. It was more of a grinding, crunching sound.

Gil looked intently and could see that the blow had broken William’s blade in two. The sword William was holding was now much shorter, missing the point entirely. A gasp arose from the crowd as they figured the blow had gotten past the blade, likely cutting William.

It hadn’t. William was still in the fight. Moving back, William put as much distance as he could between Brom and himself. Because of the shorter blade, he had to change tactics.

If William continued the close-up fighting, Brom would ultimately be victorious with a longer blade and reach. William now had to avoid Brom’s sword while working as close as possible to strike. It was a bad turn of events, causing the fight to shift soundly in Brom’s favor.

Left with very few choices, William would have to go on the offensive, ignoring his defense. It was a risky move. Brom had not followed William, and instead, he looked at the broken piece of William’s blade on the ground.

With a half-hearted kick, Brom sent the chunk of metal flying out over the edge of the ring. The crowd cheered, sensing the fight was almost over. Brom grinned as he looked around. It was as if he were a spider, and William was nothing more than a fly, caught in his web.

Moving in William’s direction, Brom took his time, calculating when and how he should attack. That proved to be a mistake, as William, who was at a disadvantage, was far more experienced than Brom in a fight. William, who had often battled in life and death situations, had not been shaken.

Brom had calculated that William would hold back, but he did the opposite, lunging forward. Taking in Brom’s overconfidence, William used it against him. The distance William crossed reminded Gil of the time he had caught them playing with his sword.

William had moved over into Broms range in the blink of an eye. Seeing the move too late, Brom thrust his sword out to catch the charging William. William had already expected the attack and easily dodged it. The swift action brought him within striking distance with his own broken sword. Finding Brom’s right back shoulder exposed, William put every ounce of strength he had left into targeting it.

After realizing that his first strike had gone wide, Brom was busy repositioning himself for another. It was then that he realized his left shoulder was exposed. The only option Brom had was to spring back out of William’s range as quickly as he could.

It was here that Brom made another mistake. Though he had been the one to break William’s sword, in his quick calculation of how far he needed to move, Brom overestimated. Moving back, he had taken himself entirely out of a full-size sword’s striking range.

In doing so, Brom had stepped one of his feet out of the edge of the ring. The horn was blown, and the fight ended. William collapsed to his knees, exhausted in the center of the ring, holding his broken sword aloft.

The crowd that had just witnessed a magnificent battle burst into cheers. Gil looked over at Brom and could see that he was scowling at William. The rules were obvious, and Brom, having stepped out of the ring during a match, was the loser.

The horn sound blew, and everyone turned to see what was happening. The fight promoter with the mustache entered the ring area. Gil and Cam watched intently. When the man was about halfway through the circle, he cleared his throat as if to speak. The crowd quieted down.

“The result of the final match is as follows. The winner is Drago Rose,” the mustached man said.

The crowd that had been noisy quieted down instantly. Looking over the group, Gil could see that some were tearing up betting slips that were no doubt for Brom. Turning to Cam, Gil nudged him, signaling for him to collect their final bet.

Cam, realizing what Gil was trying to convey, stood and made his way to the top of the stands. Handing over the paper slip, the man gave Cam two gold coins. After that, the man reached into his pocket and took out a piece of folded paper.

Handing the paper over, he said, “This here’s for your brother.”

Cam nodded, confused, and looked down at the paper strangely. He started to unfold it when the man stopped him. “It’s for your brother,” the man said gruffly. “Just give it to him.”

Startled by the man’s reaction, Cam did as he was told and turned and headed back down the steps to where Gil was waiting. Returning to his seat, Cam handed the paper and coins to Gil. Looking down at the winnings, Gil was relieved that it was actual gold coins and not twenty silver pieces, as he wasn't sure they would have been able to carry that many additional coins.

“The man said to give that to you,” Cam said, pointing at the paper.

Gil took the paper and unfolded it. The form was just a short note. It said the following:

Gil frowned as he placed the paper into his pocket. While they had won the fight, Gil wasn’t exactly sure what the note's true meaning was. Duncan was a strange, scary man. Gil just couldn’t shake the feeling that it was something a lot more than just a simple congratulations.

“What was that all about?” Cam's curiosity had him looking over Gil’s shoulder at the note.

“Nothing important,” Gil said, shaking his head. Gil figured it was best to keep information about Duncan away from Cam. “Just a note congratulating us on how successful our bets were. Let's go over to the medical tents and see how Father is doing.”

Cam nodded, and with that, the two boys stood up. Making their way down the short number of steps to the bottom, they walked over to the medical tents. Reaching one of them, they entered and saw William sitting on a table. A healer in a robe was looking over him. Francis was by his side, looking at the broken sword.

“Sure, I can do that,” Francis said. Noticing the boys had just entered the tent, he quickly changed the subject to something else. “I go and give you a magnificent sword, and this is how you return it?”

“It’s not my fault. I think you should blame the guy that was beating on it.” William smiled, laughing. “You know, if you would have given me a better sword….”

“Oh sure, blame the sword,” Francis interrupted, sighing. “This is coming out of your pay.”

The boys moved over that way and could tell that William was fine. Setting up on the stretcher, he smiled at his boys as they walked across the tent. Francis smiled at them also.

“I need you to try and stay still,” the healer said.

“So, what did you two think of the last fight?” William asked.

“It was one heck of a fight,” Gil said, echoing the message of the note he had received from Duncan.

“Sure was,” Cam said. “Can I fight next year?”

“I don’t know about that,” William replied, smiling at the boys.

The healer must have touched a tender spot as William’s expression changed to one of pain. “Oh, be careful,” William said.

“If you stopped moving, this would be much easier,” the healer scolded.

Finally, the healer gave William the okay to get up off the table. Gil looked up at his father and could see that William was utterly worn out but otherwise doing alright. The mustached fight promoter, Sam, entered the tent.

Chapter 7: Kids Free-For-All

Gil could see that Precious was outside the tent, surrounded by her fans. Sam, her partner, had already made his way inside and over towards William. Sam was carrying a small bag that jingled with each step he took. Once at William’s side, Sam handed the bag over to him, and Gil concluded that it held the equivalent of three gold coins inside.

“That last fight is one they will be talking about for years to come. It was something to see,” Sam said. “I was starting to think that no one could beat Brom.”

“Well, thank you for the prize money,” William replied. Looking down, he jingled the bag of coins.

“You earned them!” Sam said. “Any intention of joining the big match over in Florence in two months. It would be a shame if you didn’t.”

“No, I think I’ve had enough tournament fighting for a lifetime.” William smiled, stretching his arm out.

“Well, keep it in mind. It’s a twelve gold purse for that one,” Sam added.

With that, Sam turned and headed to the exit of the tent. Precious, who had been outside talking to some of the crowd, stepped through the opening. Once inside, she made her way over to Francis, and, grabbing his right arm, she held onto it.

“I told you, he would win,” Francis said, looking down at Precious. “You can always count on me to find you some true talent.”

“Oh, I know, I know,” Precious replied, winking at Francis. “How right you always are. Next time we come through Clearfield, we know exactly where to look.”

Gil wasn't sure who was getting the better deal: Francis or Precious. It was apparent that Precious was only interested in Francis for the money he made her. Gil wondered if Francis was also just as shallow.

William looked over at Precious and Francis and realized he had been right. The whole fighting thing had just been so Francis could impress his latest woman. William then looked at his boys and, reaching out, patted Gil on the head.

“I originally thought we might head back today,” William said. “But I think taking another day to recover fully might be a good idea.”

Gil nodded, agreeing that William didn’t look to be in the best shape to travel. Gathering up a few things, William was ready to leave the tent. He waved at Francis, and the family moved over towards the exit.

Looking back, William said, “Don’t forget, Francis.”

William led Gil and Cam back to the stands. Seeing a group of kids about Cam’s age over in the fighter waiting area, he pointed it out to the boys. Cam was about to run off in that direction when William reached out and tugged on his belt.

“I’ll keep an eye on your sword,” William said.

“Ok,” Cam said, taking off his belt and sword.

“Go win,” Gil encouraged, having not a doubt in his mind that Cam would be the best of the kids.

“Will do,” Cam said, taking off in the direction of the other kids waiting for the event to start.

The crowd was much smaller than it had been. Gil looked to the top of the stands, but the man who had been taking bets was already gone. Watching, he saw Cam move over to the other kids. Looking over them, he could see about six or maybe seven kids, some shorter and one taller than Cam.

“So what exactly is a free-for-all?” Gil asked.

“I’m not sure. They give the kids all padded wooden practice swords, though. I would guess it's just a toss them all in the ring and the last one left is the winner,” William said.

William’s guess proved correct, as it wasn’t long before the event started. In total, there were seven kids placed in the marked-off arena. If they left the marked-off area for any reason, they were out of the fight. Each kid was given a practice sword, much like Cam had trained with. They had all been covered in some type of cloth that had been bound to the blade.

They were calling them padded swords, and while they were probably better to get hit with than just the bare wood, Gil had his doubts about how safe the activity was for kids. When the fight started, it was a mad melee with the smallest kids being eliminated first. That left only three kids, who Gil guessed to be roughly Cam’s age.

Of the three, there was one girl, one boy, and Cam. The girl proved quite skilled as she matched Cam strike for strike. Behind her, bright red hair flowed with her body. Gil could tell she had some training with the way her strikes landed and how she turned her body to add everything she could to the hits.

The taller, older boy used his strength, not his skill, to stay in the circle with the other two. Not being nearly as skilled, he was more prone to swinging wildly. The attacks he used were all physical muscle, not finesse. Gil wondered if anyone had even taught him how to look for an opponent’s opening properly.

“I see that Cam’s a better fighter than the tall one,” Gil said.

“I know,” William agreed, “he‘s the best one out there.”

“But what about the girl?” Gil asked.

“She's talented, and I’ll give her that. But it looks to me like Cam's holding back for some reason,” William said, laughing to himself.

At first, Gil wasn’t sure what William had meant. Then it hit him. William thought Cam was holding back because she was pretty. Studying her for a moment, Gil nodded. It was a possibility. Gil could see several possible openings from the stands that Cam was letting go unchallenged.

Eventually, the girl forced the tallest boy out of the ring. Cam, being too much of a gentleman, held back while she did so. Gil couldn’t help but think that if Cam had taken that opportunity to attack while she was busy, he would have already won.

However, it was now down to just Cam and the girl. They were both skilled swordsmen, and even though the weapons they were using were obviously off balance due to the padding, it was something to see. The fight’s momentum went back and forth, but Gil continued to see chances Cam was not taking.

“He’s missing a lot of openings,” Gil said.

“He is, indeed,” William said, smiling.

Neither of the fighters seemed able to get the upper hand on the other. Gil and William watched it all unfold intently. After a good while, the girl had finally forced Cam over to the side of the circle. Cam matched her attacks with a flawless defense when his right foot crossed over the line. What made this odd was that Cam didn’t have to go back; he could have just held his position, seemingly forever.

Cam, eliminated from the match, had lost. The winner was the red-headed girl. Gil was surprised, as he had been sure Cam was the most skilled fighter among the kids.

“Cam, lost?” Gil said, slightly confused.

“I wouldn’t call it a loss, exactly,” William replied. “I think it's more like he didn’t need the win.”

“So it’s true Cam threw the fight.” Gil was stunned.

It seemed so out of character for the boy who wanted to be a Royal Knight. Gil shrugged and figured it was something he would hold over his brother's head sometime later. Watching Cam fight had been just as exciting as seeing William's matches.

The girl received a real short sword as a prize for winning. Gil suspected it was far lower quality than the one Cam had bought, but without a closer look, he couldn’t be sure. Cam rejoined the family with a stupid look on his face that made Gil strangely jealous.

The family made their way out of the fenced-in area and headed back to the hotel. By that time, it was late in the afternoon. William paid for another night at the front desk as they entered the hotel.

In their room, everyone rested up. However, when dinner time came, William was too tired to leave, so he sent the boys out again. Handing a silver coin to Gil, William lay down without another word. The boys left quietly, knowing their father needed rest. When they were alone, just the two of them, Gil asked Cam about the fight.

“You could have beat that girl,” Gil began.

“Yea,” Cam said.

“Then why didn’t you?” Gil asked angrily.

“You saw her, right? She was perfect in every way,” Cam said.

So it was love. The same bug that had bitten Gil when he first saw Luna had now found another victim. Gil looked over at his brother and could see that Cam was in a world of his own. Gil nodded to himself, knowing anything he wanted to say would have to wait.

Making their way down the street, Gil thought about how strange it was to be in a city so extensive. They had walked to Brighton by themselves many times, but walking in such a crowded place somehow made him feel more alone. Turning onto the main road, they headed down it to the closest food shop.

Entering the establishment’s door, Gil was shocked to see the face they were greeted with. It was none other than the girl in the free-for-all fight. The red hair of the girl running the front counter was unmistakable. Cam suddenly looked nervous, and Gil took the opportunity to push his older brother forward to order their food.

“Hello, welcome to Fresh Foods. I’m Cindy,” the red-headed girl said, hardly looking at the boys.

“I, I’m Ca… Cam,” Cam stammered out, obviously in shock.

Gil found the entire thing humorous as the girl didn’t seem to recognize Cam. Bursting into laughter, both Cindy and Cam looked over at Gil. Regaining his composure, Gil thought of the best way to embarrass his brother.

“Cam here lost today to a girl at the free-for-all, so we are looking for something extra tasty to take his mind off it,” Gil managed to say primarily straight-faced.

Gil’s comment had the desired effect as the words sank in, and Cam and Cindy's faces turned bright red. Gil could see that his brother's expression was one of "I’ll get you later,” and it somehow made the moment all that much sweeter. While the other two were left figuring out what to say or how to escape, Gil looked over the menu.

The food place served what would best be described as fried freshwater fish with french fries. Looking back at Cindy, Gil could see that she was still staring at Cam. Stepping in front of his brother, Gil smiled. He had just the thing to break the ice. Cindy was working for her parents or a part-time job, so all he had to do was ask a common question.

“What type of fish do you serve?” Gil asked.

Like Gil had expected, Cindy snapped back into character as the counter girl in a food shop, giving Cam a chance to regain his composure as well. To emphasize the question, Gil pointed at one of the items on the menu.

“It’s a freshwater fish called a cavefish,” Cindy replied quickly. “They live deep in the river, often hiding out in small cave-like openings.”

What she said meant the place likely served something akin to fried catfish. While it was not Gil’s favorite type of fish, it would work for the evening meal. Cam, having recovered, waved at Cindy, who pretended not to notice.

“I would like three meals of that to go, please,” Gil said. “Oh, and some ice if you have any.”

“Three cavefish with sliced ground tubers and some ice,” Cindy replied.

Ground tubers were what people in this world called potatoes. Gil found the name ‘ground tubers’ less appealing. Nodding his head, he smiled at Cindy. Seeing them close up, it was evident that his brother was smitten with the cute girl.

Gil looked over at Cam and could see that he was being shy, something very uncharacteristic of him. I usually can’t get him to shut up, but now he won’t say two words. As the older brother shifted his weight back and forth nervously, Gil decided to help him out.

“That was really something to see. The free-for-all,” Gil said.

“A lot more kids than I thought there would be,” Cindy replied.

“That... sure was a good fight... we had,” Cam said.

“You're pretty good. I wasn’t sure I was going to win,” Cindy replied, looking over at Cam.

“You won... an actual short sword,” Cam managed to say. “I bought one myself.”

Cam patted the sword at his side as Cindy looked over at it and nodded. Studying the two, Gil followed her gaze, which seemed to be focused on Cam’s face. Gil wondered what Cindy thought about his brother. Cam was tall and probably quite handsome for his age, though Gil wasn’t precisely sure what qualified as attractive in the fantasy world. Cam was brave, strong, and kind, with an almost perfect moral view, which all seemed to be desirable traits.

“Cam, step up here, and pay Cindy for the food,” Gil said, stepping aside.

Cam was about to protest as Gil had the money when the younger boy slipped a silver coin into his brother’s hand. Having been tasked with keeping the money, Gil knew allowing Cam to pay would naturally cause more interaction with Cindy. Cam looked down at his hand and quickly figured out what Gil had done for him.

A sly smile crossed Cam’s face at seeing the glint of silver in his hand. The animosity Cam had felt towards Gil at the start of the conversation was suddenly all forgiven. Moving up to the counter, Cam placed the silver coin down.

“Your total for three meals and some ice comes to eight coppers,” Cindy said.

“Perfect,” Cam replied. “It was nice... meeting you today.”

“It was sure something to see,” Gil added. “I hardly ever see my big brother lose.”

Cam was too focused on Cindy to hear Gil’s annoying quip. Looking over at the two, Gil could see that they both had their eyes wide and were smiling. Knowing that they would soon have to part ways, Gil felt a tinge of sadness.

“Thank you,” Cindy said, eventually turning around to get the meal ready.

Unfortunately, just like Gil’s meetings with Luna, the interaction with Cindy came to a stopping point. Having paid, the boys would have to head out and leave Cindy here working at the counter. Gathering up the items they had bought and their change, Gil could see Cam’s expression had changed.

“It was nice to see you again,” Cam said.

“Thank you,” Cindy said.

While it was a common thing for a shopkeeper to say, Gil couldn’t help but wonder if she somehow knew that Cam had thrown the last fight in her favor. It sure seemed that way to Gil, but maybe he was reading too much into the simple sentiment. Either way, their love would just have to be a passing thing, as the boys were not from the area and would be returning to Brighton.

“Wow, what were the odds we would see her?” Gil asked.

“I don’t know, but I would guess you could figure them out, Gil,” Cam said.

Cam’s comment, while not meaning to, made Gil uneasy. If the simple, straightforward Cam was that observant, what about William. Maybe I’m reading too much into it again?

Both boys laughed, though Gil’s laughter was more forced than Cam’s, as they made their way back to the hotel. The meals were pretty good, and everyone ate everything offered. Gil would have preferred some ketchup for the fries, but even they were decent.

William iced his shoulder after finishing his meal. Gil smiled; the family trip had been a nice change of pace. Even William, who seemed like such a homebody, had enjoyed himself.

“I’m glad we came to the tournament,” Gil said.

“Me too,” Cam said.

“Yea, you wouldn’t have met Cindy otherwise,” Gil teased, with a wink.

“Cindy, huh?” William asked.

“Yea, it’s Cam’s new girlfriend,” Gil said with a smirk on his face.

“Oh, the little redhead from the free-for-all.” William nodded.

Cam stayed quiet, stuffing his mouth with another bite of food.

“So, how do you know Francis?” Gil asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.

“He's just an old friend I traveled with for a time,” William said.

“From when you used to adventure?” Gil asked.

“Yea, he knew your mother too,” William said.

Gil took that information in. While he wanted to ask more questions about what their mother had been like, he knew better than to do so. It was evident in how William behaved that her loss was a deep wound.

Chapter 8: Bandits

The next day, William still looked tired when he said the boys should get their things gathered up for the trip home. Cam and Gil did just that, and soon the family was making its way to the stables to pick up Pip and the wagon. Since it had been an extra day, William settled the bill with the stable master.

Cam and Gil looked down the hill, just as they had done that first night they had arrived in Clearfield. In daylight, the city was a different place. It was still and quiet. Looking closer, it even appeared to Gil that several of the shops were not yet open on the main street.

“Looks like Pip was the only one to get any actual rest,” William said, leading the horse over to the boys.

“You're a good horse,” Gil said, patting Pip’s head gently.

William and Cam attached the wagon back onto Pip. With that, the trio took their seats. Gil had the coveted spot of riding Pip for the first part of the journey, while Cam and William were in the cramped, rugged wooden wagon. Riding out, they left the city of Clearfield behind them.

The road was familiar to Gil now, as he had seen the same sights more than once. Approaching the trees that made up the forest edge, Gil slowed down, remembering that William had been cautious there before. The road before the family narrowed as it turned into the woods.

Making the turn, the roadway grew darker as the trees overhead hid some of the sunlight. They had not gone far when several shadowy forms emerged from the trees. The outlines of four men blocked the road, and Gil had no choice but to stop Pip. Gil concluded they were bandits, remembering how William explained the woods made a good ambush spot.

Pip, upon seeing the men, reared his head back and snorted. Gil reached out and patted the horse on the neck to calm it down. Stopping the cart alerted Cam and William, and they quickly got out. William made his way to the front, with Cam following behind. Seeing the men, William's hand went to the handle of his sword.

The largest of the men blocking the path moved forward into the light. As soon as his face became visible, Gil knew in an instant who it was: Brom from the competition. The other three men hung out behind him, and the shadows of the tall trees kept their identities hidden.

“Well, well, looks like we found ‘em, boys,” Brom said, his deep voice sending a shiver up Gil’s spine.

“Yea, we sure did,” one of the men behind Brom said.

Gil looked over at William and saw that he looked strangely different from when they loaded up the wagon back in the city. No longer did he look injured or even tired. With wide eyes, he surveyed the group.

“Cam, you head to the right,” William shouted. “I’ll take Brom and the other man on the left. Gil, stay on horseback and only fight if you have to.”

“You honestly think you can take us?” Brom’s voice boomed. It was followed by laughter. “The only reason you won was I stepped out of the ring.” Brom laughed.

The men behind him joined in, laughing at the family. Gil felt his heart race. Reaching down, he placed a hand on the hilt of his elven sword, ready to draw it when needed. Cam had already taken his short sword out of its sheath and moved to the right of Gil.

William removed his sword from its sheath, and somehow the blade appeared to catch the limited light as it gleaned brightly. The men behind Brom did the same, and soon they were all wielding their weapons. Gil’s stomach ached in anticipation of the battle they were about to have.

“You didn’t beat me in the tournament, even though those fools said you did. What chance do you have here in the forest?” Brom asked.

“Tournament rules don’t apply here,” William said, spinning his sword in his hand. “I think we stand a pretty good chance against you. Besides, now I have my real sword.”

Gil looked over at William’s sword and could see the emerald in the hilt giving off a faint glow. Two of the men behind Brom stepped forward, and Gil could see they had also been fighters in the tournament. One of them was Peter Cadfael, who had also been in the semi-finals.

Gil swallowed hard as he pulled his small elven blade from its sheath. It was going to be four on three. Although William had instructed him not to, Gil was already thinking of inserting himself into the battle to help their odds.

“Now, it doesn’t have to be like that,” Brom said. “Just hand over all the money you have. I know those kids of yours made a good sum betting on the fights.”

“What?” William said. “Gil, what is he talking about?”

“Well, during the fights, we might have placed a tiny bet or two,” Gil answered.

“We did really well. It’s the most money I have ever made,” Cam said.

“Yea, we made more than you did,” Gil finally added.

William burst out laughing. It was a genuine belly laugh. The bandits looked on in disbelief at the confusing family they had waited so long to hijack. William, finally regaining his composure, took a defensive stance. Gil could see he was smiling and wondered if the bandits had somehow gotten him out of the trouble that was almost certain to follow the betting revelation.

“So, do you want to hand over that money?” William asked, glancing over at his boys.

“No, I think I can take everyone here but Brom,” Cam said.

“What?” Brom uttered, clearly confused.

“That’s what I was thinking. Now don’t hold back, Cam,” William said. “You can’t do like you did in the free-for-all, not this time.”

“Oh, I won't.” Cam smiled.

Gil started laughing. Maybe it was his nervousness or the realization that his family probably posed more trouble for the bandits than they did to them. When the smallest member of the group you face starts to laugh, it has a very unsettling effect on the opposing group.

“Get them,” Brom said. “William’s mine.”

Gil sighed. Obviously, Duncan had spilled the beans about William to Brom. It had been a minor mistake on Gil’s part to tell that secret, and he hoped William wouldn’t be upset about it. There wasn’t much time for what Brom had said to sink in as the men moved into striking distance.

Brom’s expression had changed to anger as he leaped forward at William. It was then that three more men emerged from the woods behind the family. Gil, hearing the sounds they made, glanced over in that direction. At first, the idea that they were with the bandits had flooded his mind. Is it now seven on three?

One of the men in the new group carried a crossbow. The other two already had their swords drawn. When they stepped into the light, Gil could see that the one holding the crossbow was Francis, and the other two were city guards from Clearfield.

Francis aimed the crossbow at Brom. “Now you're all going to come quietly, right?” Francis asked.

“Not much fun in that,” one of the guards with him said.

Brom, who had lunged at William, looked over at the new group and frowned. Guards, city or not, were a nuisance. If they killed one of them and word got out, they would be wanted everywhere in the entire kingdom.

Sighing, Brom dropped his sword and raised his arms. The others seemed to be thinking over their options. One of the men at the back of the bandit’s group took off, running towards the tree line as fast as he could.

Francis raised the crossbow and aimed in that direction, letting a bolt loose. The arrow found its mark, and the man fell to the ground, just short of the trees. It was impossible to tell from where Gil was sitting on Pip if the man was just injured or dead. Francis quickly loaded another bolt up and motioned for one of the guards to go over in that direction.

“Well, it took you long enough,” William said, looking over at Francis.

“Yea, we got a little lost in the woods,” Francis said, bursting into laughter.

William also burst into laughter. Cam and Gil looked at each other, unsure of what they were witnessing. They were both still on edge, but here William and Francis seemed calm as could be, strangely more so than they had been back in town.

“Just like the time you led Madalyn and me in the forest of Grosh, huh,” William said.

“Hey, I needed that job,” Francis said. “You get lost one little time, and they never let you live it down.”

“What use is an elven scout who can’t find his way through some woods?” William replied, smiling.

“Oh, sure, throw the elven thing back at me,” Francis said. “Like being an elf means I know every single patch of woods and leaves in the entire kingdom!”

It was only then that Gil and Cam understood, Francis was the elven scout who had been on the adventure when William had met their mother, Madalyn. Francis was the one that had gotten them lost on a goblin hunt. Gil looked over at Cam, and they shared a glance of understanding.

The other two guards eventually returned with the man Francis had shot. Francis then helped them round up the others, who had decided it was best to surrender. The man who had been shot was in no shape to walk, so William led him over to the cart Pip was pulling and put him in the back.

With William’s help, the three guards moved their prisoners back towards Clearfield. Gil turned Pip about and rode the distance. Cam was on foot and was instructed to watch the injured man.

Soon they were back in the city. They arrived at the guardhouse following Francis, which functioned as the city jail. The bandits were all locked up there, except for the one that had been shot with an arrow. Francis led Gil over to a small building called the healer’s shop. Another guard came and helped Francis take the man inside.

“Do you think he’ll make it?” Cam asked.

“I don’t know,” William said. “Francis is an expert shot, so it's amazing he made it this far.”

“Could that mean he missed a vital area on purpose?” Gil asked.

“Hmm… I doubt it,” William said. “That doesn’t sound like him.”

Maybe Francis had lost a step or two over the years, just like William had. Being an elf, William didn’t know how old he was. It was also possible the crossbow had caused him trouble, as Francis more commonly used a regular bow.

It was late afternoon before the family finally set out again. Having no further trouble, they made it home early the following morning. It was still dark outside as William lifted Gil’s small, sleeping body out of the back of the cart and took him into the cabin. Placing his youngest in his own bed, he looked over at his oldest son.

Cam yawned, collapsing onto his bed. William brought in the rest of the family's belongings and placed them next to the cabin door. The trip was over, and everyone seemed happy but tired.

Chapter 9: Family

The following day, after a good rest, William called the boys over to the table. When both Cam and Gil had found their seats, William looked over at them with a serious expression on his face. With a slight sigh, he turned his focus solely on Gil.

“I want to talk to you both about the sword tournament,” William said.

“It was really neat!” Cam commented.

“Is this about betting?” Gil asked.

“It is. While I’m glad you boys won some money, I need to make sure that you understand that with easy money often comes trouble,” William said.

Gil had hoped the betting at the tournament wouldn’t be discovered. Unfortunately, that was not the case, and he found himself in the position of needing to explain to William what they had done. Gil believed the discussion ahead of them was a delicate situation, so he searched for the right words.

“So you two were betting on the fights, huh?” William asked.

“We did,” Gil answered.

“We won a lot!” Cam said.

“I suppose you, Gil, were the one to come up with the idea of doing that?” William’s question was rhetorical; he knew better than to think it was Cam.

“I saw a man in the stands taking bets,” Gil said.

William nodded. “Well, how much did you win?”

“In total… we won just over two gold coins each,” answered said.

“That much!” William was shocked. “How did you win that much?”

“It’s the most money I’ve ever had!” Cam said.

“Well, the sword training you taught us helped. Cam was often able to spot the better fighter. I kinda created a crib sheet of the fighter's abilities,” Gil said.

“A what?” William was confused.

“He used math,” Cam clarified.

“I assigned each fighter a level from one to five in various skills. For instance, in attack, your skills were a five, and in that particular level, only Count Bilden was higher at a six,” Gil explained.

“So you ranked all the fighters in the tournament based on the numbers you assigned them?” William asked, trying to see if he understood correctly.

“Between Cam and my fighter stats, we did quite well,” Gil said.

William shook his head in disbelief. What he was addressing was more than just a simple stunt on the boys' part. Gil had created a system to win.

“So, did you always win?” William asked.

“No, we lost a couple of fights,” Cam said.

William, remembering that there had been over sixty fighters that first day, quickly figured out that forty or more matches had been fought. If the boys bet on most of the matches and only lost two, Gil’s system was more than just dumb luck.

William had hoped that the boys' losses would teach them a valuable lesson, but only losing two matches made that almost impossible. There was a long pause as he tried to process what his boys had done. Were we wrong to have bet? Did I place us in trouble because of it? No, that’s impossible. The bandits did know about our winnings, but they had gone after William.

“That aside, I hope you understand how foolish that was,” William said. “You almost got the….” William paused.

William was about to blame the bandit attack on the boys, but it would have been wrong to do so. The ambush was probably his fault for the outcome of the tournament. Beating the favorite fighter and current champion had made him and the boys a target, and he shared most of that responsibility.

“It’s just that things could have gone wrong there in the woods. I don’t want you boys to get hurt,” William said. “Often, the people running the betting at these sorts of events aren’t honest individuals. Winning a little is one thing, but winning a lot and… well, let's just say it could have been a very different group ambushing us in the forest.”

“Well, everything worked out,” Gil said. “Francis and the guards arrived at just the right time.”

Gil had just said something William had to consider. It was likely Gil knew that William had asked Francis to keep an eye on the family as they made their way out of Clearfield. William had done so due to the way the last fight ended. Winning it by default was less than ideal, and Brom, having been the winner of the previous three tournaments, likely wasn’t just going to take that lying down.

“It was good Francis showed up when he did,” William said. “But you boys need to understand something. Brom and those others are small fish compared to the organization you were likely dealing with. Had they shown up, even with Francis there, we would have been in real trouble.”

“Who are you talking about?” Gil asked.

Duncan was the first name that Gil could think of, but he didn’t like how vague William was. If there was real trouble to be had from betting, then he wanted to know what it was. Otherwise, William was making a boogeyman out of nothing.

“Gambling, while not illegal, is often used by The Hundred Phantoms to pay for their other businesses, including several illegal activities, such as assassinations. That’s the type of people you were dealing with: thieves and killers,” William explained.

Gil swallowed hard. He had known Duncan was bad news, but he hadn’t known why. Thinking over what William had just told him, he was relieved nothing worse had come after them. It really could have been my fault we were ambushed, and it still is my fault that Brom knew who William was.

“Yea, but if Francis hadn’t shown up, we would have gotten to fight,” Cam said.

Cam’s eagerness to fight was something William had observed. On the surface, it was nothing to worry about as it was just childish enthusiasm. Below that, though, it was troubling. Fighting was always a last resort. The reason William hadn’t wanted Cam to compete in the tournament was that the only death he’d ever seen during one was by a boy about Cam’s age.

A young contestant who was incredibly skilled fought his way up the ranks that day. It was the boy’s first time at the tournaments, and he looked to have a bright future. In one of the later matches, the young contestant was cut and eliminated after a fierce duel.

New fighters, like he was, could become dangerous when their instincts kicked in. Instead of going to the medical tents as he should, the wound caused him to fight for real, killing his opponent. Young fighters were often like that until they had been in a serious fight; they didn’t know how to control themselves.

Seeing William deep in thought, Gil said, “As we won, I don’t think there’s a need to punish us.”

Gil’s attitude was something William had tried to correct before, leading to its own problems. Looking over at his youngest, he sighed again, trying to think of a way to get through to him. Gil’s actions, even when successful, still had consequences.

“Just because you won doesn't mean there won’t be a punishment,” William said.

Both the boys groaned. Gil racked his brain, trying to figure out what William had in mind. This was the reason I hoped to keep the betting a secret.

“What are you planning to do with the money you made?” William asked.

Gil thought the question over carefully before answering. William had always let the boys keep the money they earned up to this point. So Gil thought it was best to have a good idea of where to put it.

“I want to buy the bakery in the village,” Gil said.

“Are you sure?” William asked. “Running a business in town means more responsibilities. You are the one who is going to have to get up early in the morning and ride Pip into the village.”

Gil nodded in response. Since he had mentioned it before, the bakery purchase shouldn’t have been much of a surprise. Looking over at his oldest, William narrowed his eyes.

“And you?” William said.

“I don’t know,” Cam said with a shrug.

Two gold coins were a fortune to Cam, and he hadn’t thought about it. Cam was just getting used to the idea that he had money. Unlike Gil, Cam had never really thought about what he would buy if given the opportunity.

William nodded. Gil had previously said that Mrs. Olden was retiring. Of all the things Gil could spend the money on, it was probably one of the better ideas. Besides, having a daily job might help keep Gil out of trouble.

Cam was an entirely different case, however. If left on his own, the money would be spent on another sword or something else as foolish. Thinking over what options there were, William smiled.

“Cam, I think you should open a bank account. If you plan to go to the Royal Knight Academy, you will need some money. The academy requires you to pay tuition, and there are other expenses too,” William said.

Cam smiled. The idea that he was now saving for the Royal Knight Academy was something he liked. Gil looked over at Cam and could tell he was happy. It was a good plan, and even Gil couldn’t think of a better use of the money.

“Gil, as your punishment, you are going to help Cam set up his account,” William said. “You should also put some of that money to use as an investment.”

As far as punishments went, that was relatively mild. Gil would have happily helped Cam set up a bank account anyway. That’s not even a punishment. I don’t want to be in trouble, but it’s like he didn’t even try.

“As for you, Cam, I think not being able to touch that money for a while will be your punishment,” William said. “So while you have two gold, you can’t use it. It’s just for your savings.”

Cam nodded. While saving for the Royal Knight Academy was what he wanted to do, it would be hard not to spend it. William’s punishment was something Cam hadn’t anticipated, and he frowned. Not having the actual coins with him would make it difficult to hold his newfound wealth over Tom’s head.

Gil felt his brother’s punishment was unequal to his own, and he couldn’t help but frown. Though he thought investing the money for tuition costs was financially wise, he disliked that William had taken away Cam’s choice. Furthermore, Gil wasn’t sure what the point of the punishment was. If William wants to teach us not to gamble, what does any of this serve?

“Gambling doesn’t usually work in your favor. Both of you got lucky with how little you lost,” William said. “But you did win, so now you both have money, and with that comes decisions. You won’t always be young and without expenses, and it’s best for both of you if you learn how to prepare for them now.”

William knew his youngest already had a good head on his shoulders for finances, so the lesson he was teaching was really for Cam. While he had wanted their punishments to be equal, it just wasn’t possible. Gil was already planning to invest his money, and in some ways, having a daily job so young was punishment enough.

“Now about the bakery,” William said.

“Yes?” Gil replied.

“Are you sure that’s what you want to do?” William asked.

“It is. But I had some trouble buying it by myself,” Gil said.

“You already tried to buy it?” William asked, surprised. “How did you plan to get into town each day? Do you know what the hours are going to be? If Pip is going with you, where will you keep him while you’re working?”

“Well, Pip can take me to town in the mornings. But I didn’t think about where he would stay every day,” Gil said.

Gil had thought he had everything worked out. So he was surprised that William had found a mistake in his plans. Where am I going to keep the horse?

“If I may, I think it would be best if Pip came home each day while you’re working. With you gone, we’ll be two hands short, and we could use Pip to haul the wood,” William said.

“So if I go into town with Cam, he can ride the horse back home?” Gil asked.

“I can!” Cam exclaimed.

“With that matter settled, I think we can get back to buying the bakery. You said you already went once, and you had trouble?” William asked.

“I did. Mrs. Olden didn’t take me seriously. So when I go back into town, would you accompany me?” Gil asked.

Gil hardly needed William’s help with anything. The chance to be of use to his youngest boy made William smile. Looking over at Gil, he tried to find some words of wisdom he could impart.

“I can do that. Of course, running the bakery is going to be your responsibility. I’m not going to be getting up early and going into town to help you. I have my own work to do here. If you want Cam’s help, I expect you to pay him a fair wage,” William said.

Gil nodded with a sly smile. “I understand.”

Chapter 10: Gil’s First Day

Gil returned to the bakery a couple of weeks after his first attempt to purchase it. Arriving with William in tow, he hoped that having someone taller would show Mrs. Olden he was serious about the purchase. The idea that he needed an adult with him for a business matter was utterly ridiculous in his mind, but he was willing to compromise as he really wanted the bakery.

They were greeted kindly, and having William along did have the desired effect. Mrs. Olden finally agreed to hear Gil out. So, as William took a position leaning against a nearby wall, Gil and Mrs. Olden took positions opposite each other in the negotiation.

“It’s good to see your father here,” Mrs. Olden said.

“My boy seems to have his heart set on this bakery,” William said.

“Do you think he can handle the work?” Mrs. Olden asked.

“Gil’s a talented boy. I originally had my doubts, but he proved all those wrong.”

“Five gold is a lot of money,” Mrs. Olden said. “And the bakery is a big daily responsibility.”

“Well, the boy has the money, and he seems to understand business matters better than most,” William commented.

“I know it’s a big responsibility,” Gil said, sounding determined. “I have the money and some skill when it comes to food.”

“You know something about food?” Mrs. Olden asked, looking Gil up and down.

“He’s actually quite a talented cook,” William said.

“Is that so?” Mrs. Olden found it hard to believe the little boy in front of her could run the bakery alone.

William knew it was best to let Gil do all the talking on most business matters. Mrs. Olden looked over at William a time or two, but she turned her attention to Gil since he stayed quiet. It was difficult for Mrs. Olden to take Gil seriously, but she had to get used to it with William supporting the idea.

“Are you sure you can handle the shop?” Ms. Olden asked, raising her eyebrows at Gil.

“I will need some help, but I can hire someone eventually for that,” Gil replied.

“Well, I’m happy to help however I can. I figured whoever bought it would want some assistance for the first few days,” Mrs. Olden said.

Gil nodded his head. “So, would you be able to help me until I know how everything operates?”

“For a little while, yes,” Mrs. Olden answered with a nod.

“I do have a few questions before I buy it,” Gil said. “For example, do you know how much profit you bring in yearly or how many daily customers you have?”

“Some years are better, and some are worse. I make approximately three gold coins a year from sales,” Mrs. Olden said.

Gil mulled that information over. Three gold a year would mean that a return on his investment would likely take two years, which surprised him. The Merchant’s Guild investment was technically a better pay-off, but Gil was sure he wanted the bakery.

“I see,” Gil said. “Well, I would like to move forward with buying it.”

Mrs. Olden thought for a long time, looking over at Gil. Imagining the young boy running her bakery seemed impossible, but she could see the determination in his eyes. After some silence, she finally reached a hand out to Gil for them to shake on the deal.

After they shook hands, Mrs. Olden took the time to show Gil how the bakery functioned. Gil watched her intently. It was what he had figured, early mornings to make the dough, followed by running the shop.

The process had already been streamlined by Mrs. Olden over the years and was pretty simple as the shop only carried one product. Cooking the bread was done in a large stone oven at the shop’s back. Like the oven at the cabin, it had a box that could be opened to add more wood.

In Mrs. Olden's mind, Gil had asked essential questions, especially for someone so young. The boy’s knowledge of food also surprised her. Gil seemed to have an intense interest in how things operated.

“Thank you for sharing all of that with me,” Gil said.

“Of course, it’s important that you understand the amount of work this requires every day”

“I want to get started as soon as possible. What time should I be here tomorrow?” Gil asked.

“Very early, I’m usually here before the sunrise,” Mrs. Olden answered.

With everything settled, William and Gil returned home. Their ride was quiet as both of them were lost in thought. William was impressed by his younger son’s ambition but couldn’t help feeling that Gil had grown up too quickly. Or perhaps instead, Gil was already a grown-up, as he no longer acted like a child.

The next day, Gil woke up earlier than he ever had, knowing the bakery meant a change to his daily routine. Before getting himself ready for the day, he woke Cam up. Waking up his brother was always a bigger job than he wanted it to be. After getting cleaned up, they headed out of the house, and Cam helped Gil onto Pip.

Riding into the village, it was not long before they were at the bakery. It would be Gil's first day working at the shop. Cam helped Gil down, and once his brother was safely on the ground, took Pip back to the cabin. Gil, having arrived first, sat down and waited for Mrs. Olden.

“Here already?” Mrs. Olden asked, arriving about half an hour after Gil.

“Sure am,” Gil said.

Mrs. Olden, using her key, opened the door and let Gil inside. A large skylight in the bakery roof would eventually let in light, but Mrs. Olden lit a candle for them to use until the sun rose. Moving over to a shelf in the back area, she grabbed a bag of flour and placed it down on the table. Reaching back further on the shelf, she produced a small bag of yeast.

“See that container there?” Mrs. Olden asked.

Gil nodded. “I do.”

“Well, fill it up with some water. From the well out back,” Mrs. Olden instructed.

Gil took the container to fetch water while Mrs. Olden moved a bottle of oil over to the table and a large mixing bowl. While Gil was gone, she measured out the flour and the oil. Mrs. Olden sprinkled a decent helping of four onto the table's surface.

The bakery came with a small lot behind the shop fenced on two sides. That space was about half the size of a typical yard in the village. Gil didn’t know the exact measurements but guessed it to be around fifteen feet long and twenty feet wide. The building was slightly larger, but not by much.

Just getting water was hard on Gil, and he could tell from carrying it in that he might need help if he was going to do this every day. Gil frowned; running the bakery would be a larger deal than he initially thought. Should I be buying it?

“Just put the water there,” Mrs. Olden said, motioning over to the table. “Now, you combine the measured ingredients into the large bowl and stir until it’s well mixed.”

Watching Gil, Mrs. Olden noticed him struggling to carry the water. While her initial instinct was to step over and help him move it, she forced herself only to observe. After all, if Gil were going to buy her bakery, he would need to be able to do the work.

Seeing the mixing bowl, Gil reached for the flour and added it. After that, he put in the water. Using a wooden spoon, Gil stirred the mixture together. Once it was combined, oil, yeast, and a pinch of salt finished the dough.

“Good, just like that,” Mrs. Olden said. “Now, you need to let it rise.”

“How long does it take?” Gil asked.

“Oh, not long. I just cover it with a towel, and when the top of the towel is over the bowl, it's risen enough,” Mrs. Olden said.

Gil placed a towel over it and watched the bowl, waiting for the dough to rise. Soon he found himself bored, wondering if there was something else to work on in the meantime. However, it wasn’t long before he noticed the towel was higher than it had been.

“That should do it!” Mrs. Olden said, looking over that way.

Gil carefully lifted the towel covering the bowl and looked at the smooth surface of the dough. Mrs. Olden moved over next to him, reached out her arm, and grabbed a portion. Then she moved it over to the part of the table she had put flour down on and began to knead it.

Once Mrs. Olden was finished, Gil watched as she cut equal portions. Next, she grabbed small loaf pans and laid the dough neatly into them. By the time she had finished, there were eleven full pans.

“You want the dough to fill the pans equally, or you will get different sized loaves, and they’ll take different times to cook,” Mrs. Olden said with a smile.

“You only make eleven loaves a day?” Gil asked, realizing just how little business the bakery did.

“Most days, yes. Sometimes, on days like festival day, I have to bake two batches,” Mrs. Olden added.

Even twenty-two loaves seemed small to Gil, who had in his world, been used to dealing with thousands, if not hundreds of thousands of pounds of produce in a single order. The village was small, but Gil had to wonder if the bakery couldn’t somehow do more business.

Mrs. Olden moved over to the oven next. Gil watched closely as she laid smaller sticks down and placed a larger log on top of them. Using a match, she lit a fire and closed the heavy metal door. Soon the inside of the shop was warm and toasty.

“Is there any secret to keeping the oven hot?” Gil asked.

“No, just use smaller sticks on the bottom and a larger log or two on top. It’s a good oven, keeps its temperature perfectly,” Mrs. Olden replied.

Moving the pans over to the large oven, Gil and Mrs. Olden took turns sliding them in. When all elven loaf pans were in, Gil noticed was there still room for additional pans. Even twenty of the loaves could be cooked at one time. Gil watched over the bread and looked around the inside of the shop. Spotting a huge metal pan over to the side resting on a counter, he decided to ask about it.

“What do we use that large pot for?” Gil asked.

“Oh, that thing,” Mrs. Olden said, sounding disgusted by it. “I was once going to serve soup with the bread, but it just never worked out. That pot is too big for anything.”

The large pot was enormous, standing taller than Gil. Shocked by its size, he instantly thought of a use for it. However, any plans for the large pot would have to wait.

Taking a quick look inside the oven, Gil saw that the loaves had become golden around the edges. Grabbing the big wooden bread paddle, he began to shuffle the oven’s contents around. Mrs. Olden came over to take a look at them. Carefully, Gil moved the darker loaves of bread to the front and the lighter ones to the back.

“Looks like you’ve done this before,” Mrs. Olden said. “You have to watch the loaves closely when they start to get that color. It means it won’t be much longer before they are done, and you have to start pulling them out to cool.”

“For that, should I just lay the finished loaves on the table?” Gil asked.

“Yep, don't try to take them out of their pans until they have cooled, or you will have a big mess on your hands,” Mrs. Olden said. “Any bread that doesn't sell today, we just sell it as day-old bread tomorrow. That way, nothing goes to waste.”

Gil nodded his head. He was well aware of the day-old bread. That was what Cam and Gil had eaten on several occasions. It was at that point that the loaves needed to be removed. Carefully, Gil took them out two at a time and laid them down on the table.

“Well, nothing to do now but let them cool,” Mrs. Olden said.

Gil nodded as he crossed the room to look at the large pot. Tapping on the side, he could see that it was thick enough for what he was planning. The pot was too big for him to lift, so he decided to leave it where it was until he needed it.

During this time, Mrs. Olden set up the shop’s front end for customers. First, she swept the floor, then wiped out the display case. Finished cleaning, she moved over to the counter, where she picked up a small box from a shelf and counted out the starting funds to make change with.

The aroma in the air brought Gil back to his childhood. The fresh-baked smell of bread made him remember how he would help his mother in the kitchen when he was younger. While the bread cooled, Gil felt the smell pulling him over to the table.

Once the freshly baked bread was cooled, they carefully turned the small pans over, causing the bread to slide out. Mrs. Olden took one of the loaves and tore it in two. Handing some to Gil, she took a bite.

Gil took the half Mrs. Olden handed to him and bit into it. The hard outer crust gave way to its soft interior. This is really good. I have to own this bakery.

With a wink, Mrs. Olden said, “It’s always best to taste the bread you make each morning. That way, you can be sure you baked it correctly.”

Gill nodded and thought that maybe eating so much bread was why Mrs. Olden was round. Reaching out, he turned over another pan, and that loaf slid out perfectly. The process repeated with each pan, and each loaf came out golden brown. The bread was then placed into the glass case at the front of the shop.

Chapter 11: Gil Buys a Bakery

It was time to unlock the bakery and greet the customers. Mrs. Olden moved over to the door while Gil watched excitedly. Expecting happy shoppers at any moment, the reality of the situation soon sank in. With them only making ten loaves, it meant they would likely receive less than that many customers.

“It won’t be long now, and we will have our first customer,” Mrs. Olden said.

Gil nodded his head, watching the front door of the shop. Being early in the day, it took time for a customer to arrive. What Gil felt must have been an hour passed. It was then the tiny bell on the door rang out.

“Hello,” Mrs. Olden greeted.

Gil could see someone up at the counter. Moving over that way, he smiled. The customer was Frey.

“First, you need to greet the customer. When they walk in,” Mrs. Olden told him.

“Who’s this? Finally got some help in the shop?” Frey asked.

“Little Gil here is thinking about running the shop,” Mrs. Olden replied.

“Really? Well, it’s nice to meet you,” Frey said.

“Frey here is a regular, and I’m sure you will be seeing a lot of them,” Mrs. Olden said.

“I see. It’s nice to meet you also,” Gil said, already familiar with providing good customer service.

With a customer in the shop, it was essentially retail. Gil smiled, as he knew how to handle that. The fact that so few had arrived started to worry him as he watched out the front window at the people passing by.

“It usually gets hectic about noontime,” Mrs. Olden said.

That makes sense, that’s when I usually found myself in the shop, and there’s almost always a line. Around noon, a string of several people from the village formed outside the door. Gil took over the counter operations and served them while Mrs. Olden supervised. Occasionally, the older woman would make suggestions.

“If you grab a bag to put the loaf in first, then you have it all ready when they order,” Mrs. Olden said.

Gil nodded as the next person in line stepped forward. Grabbing a bag, he was ready for their order. The afternoon ‘rush,’ as Gil called it, ended. In total, they had five customers.

“Is it always so slow?” Gil asked.

“Oh my, no, not always. Sometimes we have more. I remember a day with nine people all at once,” Mrs. Olden answered.

One more customer trickled in during the late afternoon. Gil was disappointed about how many people the shop served. However, he tried to hide that disappointment from Mrs. Olden.

“That's how it’s done,” Mrs. Olden said as she took the remaining two loaves of unsold bread out of the glass case, wrapped them, and put them in the day-old bread bin.

Gil could see that they had sold eight loaves the entire day and only had seven customers. With his expectations of easy money quashed, he quietly helped clean up the shop. While Gil swept the back area, he thought of ways to increase the daily sales.

“The nice thing is you get it all done before nightfall. Many shops around us have to stay open later, but being a bakery, we close when we are out of bread for the day,” Mrs. Olden said.

Gil smiled at Mrs. Olden, but he didn’t say anything as he followed her outside. I want the bakery, but two years is a long time to wait for it to pay itself off. I’m going to have to find a way to increase sales. Lost in thought, Gil almost walked straight into Pip but caught himself.

“My brother, Cam, here is opening up his first bank account,” Gil said, realizing he had forgotten to mention it.

“So he’ll be accompanying us to the bank?” Mrs. Olden asked.

“I sure will! I’m going to be saving up for the Royal Knight Academy!” Cam exclaimed.

“Oh, my school is a big decision,” Mrs. Olden said. “And a knight at that.”

“Cam is an excellent fighter; he would have won the Clearfield free-for-all if he hadn’t thrown it to a girl,” Gil teased.

“Not that again,” Cam said.

“A girl at your age? My, my.” Mrs. Olden smiled. “You can just put the horse in the back.”

Cam nodded and put Pip away behind the bakery. Soon he rejoined Mrs. Olden and Gil next to the road. With that, the group walked over to the Merchant’s Guild. Climbing the stairs, Gil walked behind the others.

“I guess this is really it,” Mrs. Olden said. “That bakery has been mine for thirty years.”

The older woman seemed deep in contemplation about the sale of the bakery. While she was no longer able to take care of the place as she should, it had been so much a part of her that she hated letting it go. Gil could see that she was both happy and sad.

“Is it okay if we do our banking last?” Gil asked Mrs. Olden.

“That's fine, dear,” Mrs. Olden said.

The boys got into the bank line while Mrs. Olden stood to the side. Mr. Stevens, who usually helped Gil, was nowhere to be seen. It was unusual for Gil to be helped by one of the regular merchant tellers, so he found it curious.

“We need to open a new account,” Gil said.

“Ok, then just fill out this form. When you are done, get back in line,” the bank teller explained, passing a paper to them.

“Will do,” Gil said as Cam took the form.

Mrs. Olden, waiting patiently, watched Gil help his older brother fill out the paperwork. The younger brother's abilities did not go unnoticed by Mrs. Olden. Seeing the young boy’s knowledge made her feel more confident Gil could handle the business aspects of the bakery.

Once the form was all filled out, the boys got back into the line and waited their turn for the bank teller. Reaching the front of the line, Cam handed over the paperwork Gil had helped him with. Reaching into his pouch, Cam produced coins equivalent to two gold.

Cam looked down at the coins in his hand with a sad face. “I only had them for a couple of days.”

Gil reached over and patted his brother on the back, “You still have them. You just can’t use them. At least not yet.”

“I know,” Cam said.

The bank teller watched the two boys in front of him with a sense of apprehension. Not because anything they were doing was wrong, but because it was so out of place. Had it been the older boy helping the younger one, he may not have even noticed. It was undeniable, though, that something was different about them.

“We are almost done,” the bank teller said. “I just need to get a profile for your account.”

The strange device Gil had seen before, which looked like a pencil sharpener, was moved up to the bars. The bank teller adjusted it.

“Please place your finger here into this device,” the bank teller recited.

Reaching his finger forward, Cam placed it into the device. As the machine lit up, Cam smiled, and a strange tingle worked its way up his back. Cam’s bank account was now official. Removing his finger from the device’s front, he set the coins onto the counter and pushed them to the other side.

The teller quickly counted and recounted the coins. Using a pen, he wrote the amount down on the card the machine had produced. Looking over at Cam, the teller smiled.

“Your account balance is two gold coins,” the bank teller said.

“I think that’s it,” Gil said. “Of course, we will still need to invest some of that money.”

Cam nodded as he left the line and headed over to the benches where he usually sat. Still at the window, Gil requested an update on his bank balance. The teller retrieved a card from his files and was shocked looking down at it. The amount listed for the young child in front of him seemed impossible.

“It will be just a moment,” the teller said, standing and moving back into the office area.

The teller disappeared into a room behind him and returned with another man in tow a moment later. It was a shorter, round man who looked middle-aged in a far finer robe than the teller. Together, they walked over to the counter in silence, with the teller looking confused and the older man with him seeming irritated. Gil watched the two of them, wondering what was going on.

“What is it?” the new man asked, looking at the teller over his glasses.

“Herman, I think our system may have an error?”

“Impossible, let me see it,” Herman replied.

“Is that correct?” the teller asked.

“Ah, I see. This is Gil. Mr. Stevens usually handles all his banking personally,” Herman replied. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Gil.”

Gil just smiled in return, not sure what to say. Herman passed the slip over the counter. Gil took the paper, turned it over, and looked at it; his eyes widened. The account had already been significant, but it had grown substantially since he was last there.

The teller stared at Gil, unable to process the young boy’s account balance. My business with Roland must be doing quite well. I wonder if it is all from chess and checkers or if the figures picked up?

“Will there be anything else?” Herman asked.

“I need to withdraw three gold coins,” Gil said.

Herman nodded his head, opened the teller drawer with a key, and put three gold coins into a bag. The teller continued to watch, seeming to snap back from his daze but no longer having any part in the transaction. Pushing the pouch across the counter, Herman purposefully leaned into it to help Gil reach.

“Always a pleasure, Gil. If there’s ever anything I can help you with, my name is Herman. I’m the senior merchant here. I’m sure Mr. Stevens is a great asset for you, but if he’s ever gone, you can ask for me by name,” Herman said.

Gil opened the bag and quickly added the coins to what he had in his pouch. It was not Gil’s entire savings, but it was a chunk of it. Breathing in deeply, Gil thought over what he was about to do. Leaving the line, he rejoined Mrs. Olden.

“Are you ready?” Mrs. Olden asked.

“I am,” Gil said, trying to sound confident.

The business with Mrs. Olden required a visit to Luna’s window. It was the first time Gil had seen Luna since they returned from the tournament. Looking up at the elf, he smiled, and Luna smiled back at him.

“I need a business transfer form,” Mrs. Olden said.

“Of course,” Luna replied.

Looking through some papers, Luna found the right one and passed it to the other side. Soon, Gil found himself in a room just like the one he had been in with Roland. A business contract similar to the one from before lay before him. Mrs. Olden began to go through the form but quickly seemed to have trouble with it.

Gil, moving over to her side, looked it over. The paperwork was not overly complicated, but it was more so than Gil’s contract with Roland had been. The primary difference was about the individual buying the business needing a tax license.

“It’s saying that you are going to need a tax license,” Mrs. Olden said.

“Oh, I already have one of those,” Gil replied.

“Good, they’re not cheap, so I was a little worried you might not be able to afford it and the bakery,” Mrs. Olden said, having been contemplating reducing the cost of the bakery to account for the tax license cost.

Gil was able to help Mrs. Olden fill out the parts she didn’t understand. After which, he handed the bag of coins over to her, and they rejoined Luna's line. Once at the front, Luna took the form, stamped it with the official seal, and the bakery was Gil’s. After the transaction with Mrs. Olden was completed, she left the bank. Gil, who still had business to do, motioned for Cam to come over to Luna’s window.

“I will need two investment forms,” Gil said.

“Two?” Luna questioned. “Of course, but the rate of return has changed since you last invested. The shortest length we offer now is six months, which returns one copper for every silver.”

Gil blinked, trying to process the information. Since his last investment, they had cut the rate they were offering only a third of what it was before. That was a drastic change, and it meant he had to reconsider if investing with them was worth it.

“That’s a big change,” Gil said.

“Yes, unfortunately, the investment rates are based on each individual territory’s economy,” Luna said, trying to keep the explanation short.

“Then does that mean this territory’s economy is declining?” Gil asked.

Luna paused at his inquiry, trying to find how to respond. “The Merchant’s Guild changes the investment rates based on its… predictions of each territory’s economy.”

“So, then the guild is anticipating the economy will decline?” Gil asked, a knot forming in his stomach.

Again, Luna paused. “The guild predicts that any investments within this territory may be less profitable. I would encourage you to speak to other merchants if you have additional questions, as they may be able to provide better insight.”

Gil was shocked. What had been incredibly profitable only seven or eight months ago, no longer was. Looking over at Cam, he bit his lower lip, evaluating their options. With a slight nod, he turned his attention back to Luna.

“Only one then, please, for my brother,” Gil said.

Having seen how much his account had grown, Gil knew that his previous investment had ended. That would have meant it was time for him to start a new investment contract with the Merchant’s Guild, especially with the recent purchase of the bakery. I was going to do two gold again, but with their current rates, it's better to invest in myself.

“Ok, I see,” Luna said, reaching for the form and handing it through the opening.

Gil looked the document over and gave it to Cam. The investment form took more explaining to Cam as it was more complicated than the one required to open a bank account. Cam struggled just to read the document, so Gil ended up filling most of it out for him.

“As you won’t be touching the money, you can invest all of it,” Gil said.

“Ok,” Cam said.

Once the forms were filled out, the boys returned to Luna’s line. Gil handed the paperwork over to the elf, when it was their turn. Taking the paper, she looked it over and placed a stamp of approval on it.

Gil and Cam went back to the bakery. Once there, Cam marveled at the outside. Gil had not only bought a horse but an actual shop in the village. The idea was odd to him, but he was proud of his brother. Gil seemed to be reaching his dreams far quicker than Cam was, and he couldn’t help but feel jealous about that. Helping Gil onto the horse, the two boys headed home.

“Hey Gil, why didn’t you invest anything?” Cam asked, remembering he had originally requested two forms.

“The rate of return on the loans is much lower than it had been,” Gil said.

“Should I have invested then?” Cam asked, not understanding what Gil had just told him, but worrying he had made the wrong choice.

“Father said you can’t touch your money. So you didn’t have anything to lose by investing, even at the lower rate,” Gil said. “Your money will grow some.”

“Oh, so I will still get more money then?” Cam asked.

“Yes, in six months’ time, you should have an additional two silver coins,” Gil replied.

“Okay, good!” Cam said, content with his brother’s answer.

Approaching the cabin, Gil noted their little house looked far more like the ones they passed on their way into Brighton. A fence surrounded the field next to the house, making their property look official. It was an excellent post fence, and it ran all along one side of the property, almost up to the woods.

Cam directed Pip into the stable William had designed. With his brother’s help getting down, Gil looked around the small space. There was room for two stalls, though one was used for storage. While he had been in it before during its construction, it was somehow more comfortable.

On Gil’s way into the cabin, he realized there was still business left to conduct. Gil sat down at their kitchen table with a pencil and some paper, figuring out what supplies were needed to keep Pip. With a small sigh, he realized there was no way for him to care for the bakery and Pip.

“Hey, Cam. Can you take care of Pip?” Gil asked.

“It’s your horse,” Cam said with a growl.

“Oh, I know that. I just need someone taller to care for him. Eventually, I should be able to do it myself, but for now, I think it would be easier to pay you,” Gil said.

“Pay?” Cam asked.

The mention of pay had changed Cam’s reaction. After all, he was now saving up for the Knight Academy and needed all the money he could get. Gil smiled, seeing he had gotten Cam’s attention.

“Yea, I could pay a copper a week,” Gil said.

Cam seemed to be thinking over the offer. “What about two?”

“What?” Gil asked.

“Two coppers,” Cam said.

Seeing Cam ask for more money made Gil proud. Maybe all those lessons had worked on him. Gil tilted his head back and forth as he thought the offer over.

“Ok, I can do that,” Gil said. “Of course, you will have to get up early to feed him.”

“No problem,” Cam said.

Cam took over the duties of feeding and grooming Pip. While Gil wanted to spend time with Pip, the horse was far taller than the boy and was more easily managed by someone of equal height. Cam was happy to get paid and promised himself that most of those coppers would find their way into his bank account.

Chapter 12: Saddles and Things

While it was alright to ride bareback, as the boys had been doing, Gil decided Pip needed a saddle. Gil calculated that it would be easier to mount and dismount the horse with one. I might even be able to get on Pip by myself with stirrups.

Purchasing the bakery made Gil a member of the merchant community. News of a boy buying the shop had spread in the last couple of weeks. The members of that group, shop owners and traders, around Brighton, had mostly welcomed Gil. Many of them had seen him and his brother grow up around them. A few merchants, however, were jealous of a boy purchasing a shop at such a young age.

The merchants that didn’t approve were few but vocal. Gil had run into one of them, surprisingly at the same shop where William and Cam bought the family's food supplies. That merchant had become less than friendly with Gil. Such jealousy or envy was to be expected from some. After all, many of the merchants in the area had worked hard to get where they were.

Problems aside, being a part of the merchant community came with some advantages. There were little perks all the shopkeepers shared, one of which was when merchants would make time at odd hours to see each other. That was done because each knew they worked during regular business hours. Another was that their fellow shopkeepers would be far more honest and helpful when giving each other advice.

Gil had found himself enjoying the benefits of being one of the group, when he was allowed. Planning to visit one of the leather goods shops, he was careful to choose the one Cam had not recently done business with. Mostly just to keep the peace with his brother.

Cam dropped Gil off at one of the leather goods shops in Brighton early. Though they weren’t officially open yet, they still greeted him. The owner lived behind the shop, like many local merchants.

The saddles offered in the kingdom of Vale were small leather seats with no stirrups or storage capabilities. None of what Gil was shown fit his impression of an official saddle. Looking over at the merchant, Gil wasn’t sure what to think about the man.

“Are these all the saddles you have?” Gil asked.

“Yes,” the shop owner said.

“That's not what I’m looking for,” Gil said, shaking his head.

“These are the only styles of saddle in the entire kingdom,” the shop owner replied.

While he had been kind to open up the shop, he was short with his answers. The shop owner looked at Gil with a sigh and frown on his face. Gil wanted the type of saddle he was used to, like he had seen on TV back in his world. A proper western saddle was what Gil had in mind, and what the shop carried was positively not that. Gil sighed, looking over what was being offered.

Thinking over what to do. Gil asked, “Do you do custom work?”

“No,” the merchant replied. “Leather shop across the way does, but it costs a lot.”

Gil nodded his head. Being a part of the merchant class caused most merchants to be far more honest than with regular customers. If the merchant recommended the shop across from it, it was probably the place to go.

“Thank you,” Gil said.

The merchant didn't reply, making Gil feel uncomfortable. Leaving the shop and heading for the bakery, Gil worked the idea over. Do I need a custom saddle? Initially, he wanted to avoid the other leather goods shop because of Cam’s experience. However, Gil was well aware that if he had been the salesman, he would have overcharged his brother as well.

During Gil’s downtime at the bakery, he sketched out what he knew to be a proper saddle. It was, of course, complete with a bridle and stirrups. Looking over the design, Gil made sure he hadn’t forgotten any details. While the measurements were just estimates, they would have to do for the time being.

Looking over the blueprints, Gil determined they looked good with a slight nod. Just like the game of chess, the saddle he wanted was something no one around him had ever heard of. Getting the idea across to a leatherworker was going to be difficult.

Each day, after working in the bakery, Gil would wait out front for Cam. Riding on Pip, Cam could be spotted from a distance. Gil raised his arm and waved. Cam directed the horse over to his younger brother.

“Hey, Gil, are you ready yet?” Cam asked.

“I am, but I want to go by the leather merchant shop first,” Gil said.

“Which one?” Cam asked, still holding a grudge against the one who had sold him his scabbard.

“The one you don’t like. I tried the other one, and they recommended that one,” Gil said.

“Well, you better be careful; they will sell you something of poor quality,” Cam warned.

“It’s for custom work. I’m going to get a saddle for Pip.”

“A saddle? Didn’t the other leather good’s shop have any?” Cam asked.

“They did, but I didn’t like the design of them,” Gil said.

Gil and Cam set out for the merchant that had been recommended. Gil hoped he could get the idea across about what he wanted using his drawing and measurements. Though it was an unusual request, many craftsmen did custom work.

As the boys entered the shop, the salesman looked up. A greedy smile crossed his face, remembering the sale he had made to Cam. Rubbing his hands together, he looked down at Gil. Sizing up the salesman, Gil felt he likely thought Cam was bringing a friend to shop.

“How can I help you today?” the salesman asked.

“You can’t,” Cam said, with a frown on his face.

“I hear you do custom leatherwork,” Gil said.

The expression on the salesperson’s face changed in an instant. Custom work was not an area he dealt with. With a shrug, he directed the boys to the back of the shop.

“That man there is Rollins. He does all the custom leatherwork orders,” the salesman stated.

Gil nodded and moved over in the direction of the man. Rollins was an older man with a big full beard. Gil could see that he was hitting a piece of metal onto a leather strap with a hammer. Gil guessed he was working on a belt, but he wasn't sure.

“Hello, I’m Gil, the new owner of the bakery,” Gil said.

Rollins looked up at the boy and squinted. “I heard a kid bought it from old Mrs. Olden. But I didn’t believe it. So what do you need today?”

Rollins’ tone was a little gruff, and Gil wasn't sure how to take it. Holding out the designs he had drawn up, he waited for Rollins to take them. Rollins hit the leather strap he was working on again and then reached out for the papers.

“It’s some custom work I would like,” Gil said.

Rollins nodded. “Custom work can get pricey. Let me take a look.”

Unfolding the paperwork, Rollins looked it over. A small gasp escaped his lips. Reaching up, he scratched his head and then looked over at Gil.

“You draw this?” Rollins asked.

“I did,” Gil said.

“Well, from what I can make of it. It’s a strange horse saddle,” Rollins remarked.

“It is indeed,” Gil said.

“Are these measurements right? If they are, it looks to be a mite big for you,” Rollins added.

“Yes, it's a full-size adult saddle,” Gil said.

“Hmmm… These parts hang down. I ain't ever seen anything like that.”

“Those are called stirrups, and they are used to get on and off the horse,” Gil said. “Do you think you can make it?”

“Huh? It’s different, but of course, I can make it, I can make anything,” Rollins said, smiling at Gil.

“What kind of cost am I looking at?” Gil asked.

“It's a lot of leather, and I suppose being a saddle, most of it will have to be hardened. Hold on, and I will figure it out,” Rollins replied.

Grabbing a pencil and paper from behind him, he began writing down numbers. Gil watched as Rollins worked with a smile. It looked like his dream of owning a western-style saddle might just happen.

“I could do it for four silver coins,” Rollins finally said. “That price does not include any of the metalwork, though; you will have to get that done yourself.”

“What if I need alterations?” Gil asked. “After you're done?”

“Well, as I’ve never made one before like this, I can’t really say how much changes to the design would cost. I would try to keep those as low as I could, but it all depends on how big of changes they are,” Rollins said. “The more leather I have to reshape, the more complicated and expensive things become.”

“Hmm…” Cam muttered to himself.

“Four silver? Is that the best you can do?” Gil asked.

“Well, you are a merchant, so that price includes the usual discount. Custom work is expensive,” Rollins said. “We have to recoup any losses for mistakes.”

Typically, Gil would have negotiated the price, but he had already figured that getting a saddle might cost as much as a gold coin. I wonder how much the usual discount is, that must be another thing shopkeepers offer each other around here. So the price of four silver was well within his budget. Knowing Cam was beside him, Gil came up with a crafty idea to help counter the offer.

“What would some custom work for a kingdom shortsword scabbard cost?” Gil asked.

“What?” Cam perked up.

“We have a wall of sword scabbards, of course, those we buy in bulk from a leather goods wholesaler. They aren't hard to make, though, and there is no risk of trouble as the design is pretty well set. What kind of personalization did you have in mind?”

Gil thought over what Rollins had just said. Getting Cam some changes to his scabbard would be a satisfying gift. Cam listened closely, curious about what his brother was up to.

“So you can add a design into the leather?” Gil asked.

“Yea, I stamp leather all day when I don’t have any custom orders to work on,” Rollins responded.

“Cam, take off your sword sheath and hand it over to Rollins,” Gil said.

“Ok,” Cam replied, looking down at the ground, embarrassed.

Cam handed over his belt and scabbard. Rollins looked them over. “This one’s got some issues. The leather doesn’t quite fit together, and whoever did it only used single stitching? You sure you don't just want a whole new one?”

“No, he bought it here,” Gil said. “It has some sentimental value, being his first. Do you think you can fix it up?”

“Bought it here, huh? I see the quality of the wholesaler has dropped. The good news is that most of the leather I see is fine. I could even move it up by adding a metal tip guard. We have some of those already. The stitching will need to be redone, but if we are stamping it, that’s a given,” Rollins said. “So what do you have in mind for the image? I have a sheet of available designs.”

Rollins pointed Gil and Cam over to a large leather piece stamped with various shapes. In total, there were about twelve to pick from. The designs varied and included stars, snakes, and several others. Gil looked over them, as did Cam. Spotting one that reminded him of Cam, Gil pointed it out; it was a wolf's head.

“What do you think of the wolf’s head?” Gil asked.

“Really?” Cam said. “I like it.”

“I think it's the best design up there,” Gil said. “I don’t see a dragon.”

“A dragon?” Cam questioned.

“Yea, I think that would fit you best, but a wolf’s head will work.” Gil smiled at his brother.

“So, how much for both?” Gil asked. “The saddle and that work on the sword holder?”

“I’ll tell you what, since you bought that sword scabbard here, I’ll do it and the saddle for four silver,” Rollins said with a smile.

“Sounds good to me,” Gil replied, reaching into his pouch. “Can I pay one silver today and the rest when it’s done?”

“I will need half today; it’s company policy,” Rollins said.

Gil handed over two silver as a deposit on the work he had ordered. Rollins wrote up a receipt and gave it to Gil. Reaching out his hand, the two shook.

“I can have the sword sheath done tomorrow. That saddle of yours, though, will take some time. Maybe a week or more?” Rollins said.

Gil nodded his head. Then the two boys left the shop and passed the salesman who watched them go. Back outside, Cam looked over at his brother and smiled.

Chapter 13: Custom Leather Work

The following day, after the bakery closed, the boys went to the leather shop to pick up Cam’s scabbard. Cam had a giant smile on his face as they brushed off the salesperson, walking straight to the back. There they saw Rollins hard at work on something.

Looking up, Rollins said, “I got that sword sheath all done.”

Rollins stood and moved to his finished goods pile. Sorting out the items, he found the black scabbard near the top and brought it over for Cam to look at. Gil was amazed by the item’s quality; it looked like an utterly new sheath.

The sword scabbard had been completely restitched all around in double stitching. As Gil and Rollins had discussed, a metal tip guard had been added to the bottom point. The shiny metal looked especially neat next to the black leather. At the top, a thin piece of metal had also been added to reinforce the throat of the holder.

“Wow,” Cam said, looking it over and pointing. “It has that wolf head right there!”

“It sure does,'' Gil replied, admiring the work quality.

The rough, little leather scabbard had been completely reworked and made into a high-quality item. The metal reinforcements at the top and bottom would definitely extend its life. Gil watched happily as Cam put the belt around his waist.

“So, what do you think?” Rollins said. “I had to take a little more leather off it than I thought I would. So in exchange, I added that piece of metal at the top.”

“It’s amazing,” Cam, remarked with a smile across his face.

Gil smiled. “I think you do good work.”

“Of course I do,” Rollins said with a belly laugh. “I did have a question about your saddle, though.”

“What is it?” Gil asked.

“I was looking over the design, and I couldn’t for the life of me understand this one piece,” Rollins said.

Rollins laid his finger right on the saddle horn, pointing to the blueprints. Gil nodded, as he knew most western-style saddles had a horn or front raised part. Seeing the issue, Gil tried to put it into words.

“Originally, that was used for roping cattle. Nowadays, they are usually just a handle to help the rider get up into the saddle,” Gil explained.

“Cattle? Huh… Nowadays?” Rollins replied.

Cam, who was used to Gil talking like that, just kept looking at his remade sword scabbard. Continuously, he ran his fingers over the indented image of the wolf’s head. Gil, realizing what he had said, wasn't sure how to phrase it properly.

“It’s a handle to help the rider up,” Gil said. “I’m so small, I’ll need all the help I can get.”

“I see,” Rollins replied, squinting one eye and looking at the boy suspiciously. “Well, I guess that answers my question. If it’s meant to bear weight, then it will have to be sturdy, so more hardened leather.”

“Thank you,” Cam said with a bow. “This sword scabbard is perfect.”

Cam’s interruption was a welcome relief to Gil. The longer he had been in the fantasy world, the less he had tried to hide his knowledge. I think I’m getting too comfortable here. Rollins looked at the boys and shook his head; the two couldn’t be any further apart if one of them were a different species.

“Well, I’m just sorry we sold you a dud the first time,” Rollins said, looking over at Cam. “The salesman really should have been on the lookout for items like that.” Turning his focus back to Gil, Rollins continued. “I haven’t started on your saddle yet. Though I’ve been studying the blueprints and picking out leather pieces to work with, it’s a big project.”

“So still a week?” Gil asked.

“Yea, I think I can make that,” Rollins muttered. “Those drawings of yours are top-notch. They will help me a lot.”

The boys left the shop, and Cam helped Gil back up onto Pip. Waiting for something was the worst part of ordering a custom item. Hopefully, Rollins doesn’t overthink about what I said.

“Thank you,” Cam said. “I… Well, just thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Cam,” Gil replied. “I didn’t like them taking advantage of you.”

The two boys rode back home, thinking about what had happened. Cam was lost in thoughts of his new sword sheath. Once they arrived at the cabin and put Pip up in his stall, they went inside.

“How was it today, Gil?” William asked, already working on dinner.

“It was fine. Sales are still a little slower than I want,” Gil answered.

“I’m sure you’ll think of a way to increase those,” William said.

“After work, we went by the leather shop. I’m getting a custom saddle,” Gil added.

“Oh, that sounds pricey. I hope you picked a good leatherworker for it,” William said.

“He did!” Cam exclaimed, excited to show off his sheath. “They stamped my scabbard.”

William, instantly interested in the work done, turned towards the boys. “The same scabbard you bought, or did you get a new one?”

“It’s the same one. As part of the deal with Gil about his saddle, the leatherworker did it. It has a wolf on it now!” Cam said.

“I hope that didn’t cost you very much. I think you may have been better off getting a new one….” William said skeptically. “Well, hand it over here. Let’s see this wolf head.”

Cam took off his belt and passed the sword rig to William, who looked intently at its quality. Nodding his head, William smiled. Moving in closer for a good look, he could see that it was now double stitched all around and that the metal pieces were functional and not just cosmetic.

“This is excellent quality. Gil, who did you go to?” William asked.

“His name was Rollins,” Gil replied. “The other leather goods shop said he did custom work.”

“Hmm, well, he did a fine job. Cam, this is a very nice scabbard. You take good care of that one,” William said, passing it back to Cam.

“I will,” Cam said, putting his belt back on.

“You boys go get cleaned up. Dinner will be ready soon,” William instructed, turning back to the stove.

William had returned to cooking most of their meals since Gil was working in town. Occasionally, Gil brought home a loaf of bread for them, but he tried not to make a habit of it. Overall, it seemed that each of them had found a daily routine, making time pass quickly.

About a week went by before Gil and Cam returned to pick up the saddle. Gil was excited to see his design in reality. Sadly, he found the product slightly different from what he had wanted.

“This back area, behind the seat, that rises; it needs to be stiffer,” Gil said. “And the leather holding the stirrups needs to be adjustable, up and down. That way, they can fit any rider with a minor change.”

“So a buckle?” Rollins asked.

“I think that would work,” Gil said. “Just make sure that it won't rest against the horse.”

“Ok, I can do that. To make the back of the seat sturdier is a bigger deal. That will take some more leather,” Rollins said.

While it was close to Gil’s original design, the first saddle was not precisely what he had ordered. Jotting down a couple of quick changes, Rollins looked them over. Normally, Rollins got custom orders right the first time, but he wasn’t surprised with how unusual Gil’s was that it needed reworking.

“I think I get it,” Rollins said.

“Ok,” Gil said.

“There will be a little cost for the redo of that back piece,” Rollins told him. Taking out the pencil and paper, he began calculating the additional fee. “I would say five copper will cover materials.”

Gil nodded his head. ”How long do you think it will take?”

“Oh, those additions won’t take too long, maybe a couple of days,” Rollins said.

The boys left the leather goods shop one more time. Gil was disappointed that the saddle was not correct, but he realized he was asking a lot of an artisan who had never seen what he wanted. Gil got back on Pip with Cam’s help, letting out a sigh.

“Don’t worry,” Cam said. “They did such a good job on my sword scabbard that I’m sure you will get what you want.”

Gil nodded, though he wasn’t entirely convinced. The saddle was a large project, and leaving it up to others just made him worry. A couple of days passed before the boys stopped by the leather goods shop again to see the changes.

“I think that works,” Gil said with a smile.

“See, it might take me a time or two, but I’ll get it.”

The saddle was almost precisely what Gil had wanted. Looking over every piece, he could see that Rollins had taken his time and carefully crafted it all together. Gil tried to lift the saddle but found it was too heavy for him.

“Cam, can you carry that?” Gil asked.

“Sure thing,” Cam said, reaching down and picking up the saddle.

As Gil paid the remainder of the money to Rollins, Cam took the seat out and put it on Pip. As the saddle didn't yet have any of the metal parts it needed, it wasn’t a functional saddle yet. Cam lifted his brother and sat him on the saddle when Gil emerged from the store. Walking next to the horse, he led it to the Metal Worker’s Guild.

“Let's stop here. I should probably approach by myself. Father says they don’t like people taller than them,” Gil said to Cam.

“Are they all dwarves?” Cam asked.

“I don’t know,” Gil answered.

“Alright, well, I’ll wait over here, I guess,” Cam said.

With Cam’s help, Gil got down and guided Pip over to the front of the shop. Awkwardly, he stood there for a few minutes, wondering if he should knock or not. Before he got the chance to make up his mind, Jonas, the dwarf he had dealt with before, emerged.

Jonas seemed to eye the horse rather strangely. “Hello, Gil. What's with the horse?”

“Well, I need some metal work done on a saddle I made,” Gil said.

Jonas cautiously moved over beside Gil and looked at the saddle. “That’s a saddle? I ain't seen anything like that before. I heard you bought a bakery. Is that true?”

“Yeah, I bought the bakery in town. You should come by sometime. Currently, we only have bread, but eventually, I want to expand to some other things. Right now, I am needing some metal pieces added in these areas of the saddle,” Gil said, pointing to the spots.

The dwarf eventually nodded understandingly and reached under his beard. Jonas took out something to measure the size of the metal pieces needed. “Is this a new saddle-style?” Jonas asked once he was done measuring.

“I designed it,” Gil explained.

“You did, huh? I haven’t seen anything like that before,” Jonas said.

“It’s to help me get up and down from the horse,” Gil explained. “My leg and size make it difficult.”

“Huh, so it makes it easier to get on and off the horse.” Jonas let the words sink in.

“Exactly,” Gil said.

Jonas nodded his head, still thinking about the design in front of him. “Well, I think we can make what you want.”

“The stirrups will need to be large enough for my boot to fit in them comfortably, and they need to be smooth,” Gil said.

“Custom work costs more,” Jonas replied. “But we can do it.”

Gil nodded and said, “I understand.”

Jonas calculated the cost of the custom metalworking to be about two silvers. Gil paid for the stirrups and accent pieces, and Jonas said they should have them the next day. With that, Gil and Cam left and headed home.

The following day, after working at the bakery, Gil went to see if his stirrups were done. They were perfect, just what he had ordered. They even slid right into where he had wanted them to go, locking into place. Gil completed his new custom saddle with them and stepped back to admire it.

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” Jonas said. “It's a lot bigger than all the saddles I've seen.”

“Yea, I guess it’s a first for this world,” Gil said.

“So the metal bits at the bottom are for getting on and off the horse?” Jonas questioned.

“They are; I’ll need my brother to help me put it onto Pip,” Gil said, pointing over to where Cam was waiting, a few yards down the road.

Jonas nodded. “He’s welcome to come on down to help you out. I’d like to see how you use it.”

Gil waved at Cam, who noticed and came over the rest of the way. Cam stopped a few feet from Jonas as he wasn’t sure how close he should get. Jonas eyed the boy closely before letting out a hearty laugh.

“I don’t bite,” Jonas said. “Any friend of Gil’s is welcome here.”

“Cam, will you put this back onto Pip?” Gil asked, gesturing to the saddle Jonas held.

Taking the saddle from Jonas, Cam put it on Pip. It wasn’t an easy process, and attaching it took some effort. Once the saddle was in place, Gil moved over to the horse’s side. Putting a boot into one of the stirrups, he lifted himself up and onto the horse's back.

“You did it all by yourself!” Cam said, surprised.

“So that’s how it works, huh?” Jonas said.

“Yep.” Gil smiled. “The saddle should be big enough that we can still ride two for now.”

Cam climbed up behind Gil, and the boys headed off down the road. Gil turned and gave Jonas a big wave, who returned it before going back into the shop. Arriving home, even William took an interest in this new creation. The saddle was something to see, and it proved helpful for riding.

“It does make it easier,” William said.

“I know!” Cam said.

“I can get on and off Pip by myself now,” Gil said.

Looking over what Gil had created, William found the saddle very interesting. Asking if he could take Pip for a ride, Gil agreed. Soon, William and Cam had both tried out the new saddle. Of all the things Gil had created, the saddle stood on its own due to just how useful it was.

Gil had created something perfect, almost too much so, right from the start. William thought over all of the unusual creations Gil had made, and he couldn’t help but feel something was different about his youngest. Gil was unlike any boy he had seen before.

Chapter 14: Mr. Stevens Returns

When the merchant carriage carrying Mr. Stevens arrived back in Brighton, it was already dark. James, the driver, pulled around the building before stopping. Getting down from the hard plank that acted as his seat, he opened the door for Mr. Stevens. With a yawn, the head merchant of Brighton stepped down.

It had been a long journey to Kingstown and back, and Mr. Stevens was relieved to be home. Even though he hated everything about the village, he very much looked forward to resting in his own bed. The journey to and from Kingstown had been a tiring one.

“Thank you, James,” Mr. Stevens said.

“I’ll unhitch the horses and get them put away for the night,” James said.

Looking at the bundle of notes Mr. Stevens carried, it was easy to see how much work he had. First, Mr. Stevens would have to arrange a meeting with Roland to discuss what had happened with the council. Of course, thankfully, any business would have to wait until the next day.

Mr. Stevens’ eyes adjusted as he made his way out onto the dark streets of the village. Brighton was primarily desolate after dark, and he began to walk down the road. Moving past the shopping district, if one could call it that, Mr. Stevens turned and began to move up past a row of tiny houses.

In the distance, a strange figure could be seen staggering towards him. Mr. Stevens looked at the shape with disgust. The other man stumbled across the street until he was directly in front of Mr. Stevens’ path.

“Hey, mister, you got a copper?” the drunken man asked, holding out a hand.

“No,” Mr. Stevens replied, looking over the person in front of him.

Though Mr. Stevens had the money, he knew better than to give it away to someone in such a condition. The person in front of him was disheveled and dirty, and he was sure any money they received would go straight to alcohol. Mr. Stevens frowned.

The man standing in his way was someone Mr. Stevens didn’t recognize. That person was the town drunk, Malcolm. Being an unsightly mess, wearing dirty, torn clothing, Mr. Stevens didn’t know how to react to him. Malcolm stumbled forward, barely missing Mr. Stevens as he fell to his knees.

In doing so, Mr. Stevens, who had to dodge, lost his grip on the papers he was carrying. With a flutter, the pages outlining the details of the king’s request flew out of his hands and into the air. A slight breeze took the pages and scattered them all about.

“Are you sure you don't have a copper?” the man on the ground asked, seemingly unaware or uncaring that he had fallen or even that he had caused Mr. Stevens’ paperwork to scatter.

“Quite,” Mr. Stevens said, looking down at him. “Do you need help getting up?”

“No, I fall lots,” Malcolm replied with a laugh.

“Perhaps you shouldn’t drink so much,” Mr. Stevens said disapprovingly.

Mr. Stevens' advice, while unsolicited, was sound. The man on the ground managed to get back to his feet. Turning his focus onto the path in front of him and the scattered papers, Mr. Stevens stepped behind Malcolm and began to gather them.

Malcolm swayed back and forth, “I don’t think you tell me drink too much. I drink just enough.”

Malcolm was now speaking to no one, as Mr. Stevens was entirely behind him. Having other matters to attend to, he had turned his focus away from Malcolm and was rushing to pick up the paperwork. Working as fast as Mr. Stevens could, the head of the Brighton merchant branch scurried here and there, gathering the pages. It was a funny sight to see, but the only one who could was Malcolm, and he was in no condition to appreciate it.

The darkness all around Mr. Stevens and the wind proved formidable obstacles. As he was about to grab a page, it would often blow further down the road. Eventually, having gathered as much as he could, Mr. Stevens looked at the pages in his hand. It was impossible to tell if he had picked every note up or not.

It was also too dark to read them, so all he could do was reorganize them back into a proper stack. Mr. Stevens looked down at the stack pages he was holding, trying to remember if it was as thick as it had been. With a sigh, he continued down the path.

Tired from his journey, the only thought Mr. Stevens could focus on was getting home. Fortunately, it wasn’t long before he found himself staring at the front door of his home. The house wasn’t actually his, as Mr. Stevens was only renting it from someone in the village. Reaching into his pocket, he found the key and opened the door.

Stepping inside, Mr. Stevens took in a deep breath. The air in the room was sadly stale and less pleasant than he had hoped it to be. Placing the paperwork he was carrying down, he made his way upstairs and soon fell asleep.

The following morning at the Merchant’s Guild in Brighton, Herman, the senior worker, was busy opening the location. Making his way up the steps, as usual, he unlocked the upstairs area. Being the first to arrive at the office, Herman began arranging things for the day.

Taking a quick look into Mr. Stevens' office, Herman concluded that the head of the Brighton branch was still out on business. What that business was, Herman knew very little about. Mr. Stevens had been away in Kingstown, probably for a Merchant’s Council meeting. Herman found it all rather curious with how suddenly Mr. Stevens had disappeared.

Having finished the opening duties, Herman turned his attention to a stack of paperwork on his desk. It was tedious loan forms, and he couldn’t help but feel even a monkey could do the work. Samantha, Mr. Stevens’ secretary, arrived just after he started.

“Already at it I see,” Samantha said with a smile.

“I am,” Herman groaned slightly. “Do you know when we should expect Mr. Stevens back?”

“I don't know. He said that the trip might take a few weeks,” Samantha replied.

Herman knew trips like that for the head of the merchant guilds were not uncommon. Usually, though, more notice was given. Herman brought the stamp he was using down on a form in front of him.

Luna was the third to arrive, and as usual, she was early. As Luna began to gather her stuff up for the contracts line, Herman looked over at the elf and scowled. The nerve of an elf thinking they could work in a Merchant’s Guild was appalling to Herman. In his and the eyes of some others around the kingdom, elves were despised.

Luna being an elf was enough reason in Herman’s mind to hate her. If Herman had the power, he would have fired her. The truth was, though, Herman was not yet in that position. Still, being the senior on staff, he was over Luna and not about to make her work more manageable.

“Luna, I need you to do this stack of forms today,” Herman said.

Herman pushed forward a tall stack of loan papers. Luna looked over at the desk Herman was sitting at and frowned. The paperwork Herman was passing off was his, not hers. Luna moved over in that direction and took the papers from the desk with a slight sigh.

“If you can get those done today, that would be ideal,” Herman said.

Looking at the stack of pages in her arms, Luna sighed again. It was a lot of work, and as it wasn’t even her work, she would have to do the best she could. Things had been like this since Mr. Stevens had left. Herman had been adding additional work to hers. While Mr. Stevens had never been overly friendly, he had always kept the work separated by whose it was.

Luna finished up her morning routine and began to look at the stack of pages Herman had given her. They were all loan papers that needed to be looked over and stamped. Luna, not working in the loans departments, wasn’t qualified by guild rules to do the work.

“These pages you gave me are loan forms,” Luna said.

“I know,” Herman replied. “We have been behind on them. Mr. Stevens usually does that work personally, but in his absence, it has piled up.”

“As an apprentice, I'm not able to certify them,” Luna said.

“Well, we are backed up right now, so I would appreciate it if you could,” Herman said with an evil grin.

“But that would go against policy,” Luna argued.

“Just do the work you're given,” Herman ordered.

“Don’t go against policy,” Mr. Stevens said with a smile. “I’ll take those forms.”

Luna looked up at the voice and could see it was Mr. Stevens. Having snuck in a little later than usual, he overheard what was going on and interrupted the conversation. Mr. Stevens moved over to Luna's area, picked up the large stack of forms, and headed for his office.

“I was… just trying to speed things along,” Herman said.

Mr. Stevens, using his free arm, raised it slightly. “Here at this location, we do not go against merchant policy. Besides, it’s accuracy over speed, every time.”

The office grew quiet, and Herman felt embarrassed having been found out. Mr. Stevens, on his way into his office, looked over at Samantha. With a smile, he nodded his head.

“I will need you to pen me a letter asking the merchant Roland for a meeting,” Mr. Stevens said.

“Will do,” Samantha replied, pulling out a blank piece of guild stationery. “What's the meeting in regard to?”

“Just routine business matters. Though it does need to be handled as soon as possible,” Mr. Stevens told her.

Herman, having overheard, wondered what business Mr. Stevens might have with Roland. While it wouldn’t do any good to ask that question aloud, it was curious. ‘Routine’ and ‘as soon as possible’ hardly belonged together. Giving a look of contempt at the back of Luna’s head, he continued working.

Samantha set about creating a letter, requesting a meeting with Roland. When she finished, she gave the notice to Evie, a young apprentice working at the Merchant’s Guild, for delivery. Herman watched with interest as the messenger departed the room.

Evie was currently the only page working for the guild. While the other apprentices worked in the office, she spent her days running messages when needed. Reaching Roland’s small shop, Evie went up to the door and knocked. There was no response, and looking inside, Evie could tell it was dark.

Looking at the message, Evie wasn’t sure what to do. While it had been expressed that it was important information, she didn’t know where Roland, the traveling merchant, might be. Seeing a drop spot at the door, she lifted the small, hinged piece of metal and dropped the message inside the room. While strictly speaking, Evie was not supposed to leave the message unattended. It seemed like, under the circumstances, the best way to deliver it. Marking the message as delivered, she returned to the guild.

Fortunately, that same day, Roland had to stop by his Brighton store for an item from a recent shipment. As his carriage pulled up in front of the shop, Roland opened the door and emerged from within. Count Gray had ordered some gold-stamped silverware, and it should have arrived.

Walking up the path to the front door, he found his key in his pocket and opened it. About to step inside, an envelope on the floor caught his eye. Reaching down, Roland picked up the note and continued to the back room. Opening the envelope, he unfolded the message inside.

The paper was a request for a meeting from the Brighton head of the Merchant’s Guild. Roland read it a couple of times and smiled. It looked like things were finally moving ahead on the king’s chess set.

Chapter 15: An Important Meeting

Having received the meeting notice, Roland arrived at the guild after dropping off Count Gray’s package. Inside the guild, he informed the receptionist that he had a conference with Mr. Stevens. That message was quickly relayed upstairs to Mr. Stevens.

Leaving his office, Mr. Stevens carried a stack of pages. The papers looked worse for wear, having been scattered all over the road the night before. Looking over at his secretary, Samantha, he smiled.

“I have a meeting with Roland currently. I’m not sure how long it will run, but I will be downstairs if I’m needed,” Mr. Stevens said.

“Of course,” Samantha replied with a smile.

Herman watched all this from his desk. Since he returned from Kingstown, Mr. Stevens’ actions had been unusual, and Herman wanted to know what was happening. Waiting until Mr. Stevens had disappeared down the stairway, Herman stepped over to Samantha.

“He seemed in a hurry,” Herman said.

“Had an important meeting,” Samantha replied.

Herman nodded. “That Kingstown trip must have been crucial.”

Samantha looked at her coworker. To her, it was apparent Herman wanted to know more about the council meeting. Even Samantha didn’t know all the details, but she knew better than to share gossip in the workplace. Herman, realizing he wouldn’t get any more out of her, returned to his desk.

“I will be taking meeting room one,” Mr. Stevens said, standing downstairs at the receptionist’s desk.

The receptionist politely smiled. “Of course, Mr. Stevens.”

Behind the reception area was a series of doors, each one leading to specific meeting rooms. Meeting room one was the most basic of the rooms, only having some chairs and a table inside it. Mr. Stevens motioned for Roland to follow him, and the merchant did so.

“Welcome, I’m glad you came as soon as you could,” Mr. Stevens said.

“Of course.”

“Please come in and sit down,” Mr. Stevens said, directing Roland inside meeting room one.

Roland moved across the room and took a chair. Looking over at Mr. Stevens, Roland waited patiently for the head of the Merchant’s Guild to also take a seat. Once Mr. Stevens sat down, he shuffled the pages, laying them on the table.

Looking over at Roland, Mr. Stevens cleared his throat. Sorting through the notes, he looked for the one he had received from the Merchant’s Council. Unable to find the right page, Mr. Stevens grew frustrated and sighed. Of course, the paper he needed was the one that had escaped the night before. Being a professional, Mr. Stevens proceeded ahead without it.

“The budget for the king’s chess set has been made,” Mr. Stevens said. “I should have the paper here somewhere.”

One last mad look about the papers on his desk told him the page he needed had indeed been lost. Giving up his efforts to find the report, Mr. Stevens frowned and steadied himself. It wasn’t his first meeting blunder, and he would make it work with or without the page.

“The council has given us a generous budget for the king’s chess set. Though I don’t have those numbers in front of me right now, I can assure you that we should be able to come in under budget,” Mr. Stevens began. “The council will pay for all the construction costs.”

“So can I tell Gil? Do we need to start building the chess set?” Roland asked.

“All in due time, first we have some matters about the trip to discuss,” Mr. Stevens said. “While the Merchant’s Council has generously agreed to pay your and the inventor’s way to Kingstown, they do have some rules about the trip. In addition to you and the product’s inventor, they will pay to take one additional family member. While the council would prefer it to be his father, they understand if that’s not the case.”

“So, the trip for myself and Gil and one other member of his family will be paid?” Roland asked.

“Correct, all expenses there and back. You would only be responsible for any shopping you did and perhaps some food costs. In addition to that, your trip will be made by a merchant coach. They are larger and far more comfortable than most personal carriages. It is expected that the king will pick the loggings in Kingstown, and if he stays true to the form of past royalty, that will mean staying at the Royal Hotel.” Mr. Stevens watched Roland carefully as he spoke, ensuring he followed along.

“The Royal Hotel?” Roland asked, his eyes wide.

“Yes, it’s the nicest hotel in Kingstown. Do you have any idea how long it will take to get the chess set made?” Mr. Stevens asked.

“I’m not sure. I still have to tell Gil about the king’s order. Up to this point, Gil has done all the work in that regard.”

“Oh, I see,” Mr. Stevens said. “Well, make sure to do that as soon as you can. We don’t want to keep the king waiting any longer than necessary.”

Roland looked over at the man and couldn’t tell if the last line had been a joke or serious. In his mind, the entire affair had already taken far too long. Gil was still completely unaware of what was happening, so Roland needed to break the news to him and get him working on a new set suitable for the king.

“All matters related to the creator of the chess set are to be left up to you. Those matters include…” Mr. Stevens grabbed one of the papers from the table. “Proper behavior for the inventor and his family member, that would, of course, mean royal court etiquette. While on the trip and in Kingstown, if anything happens, you being the chaperone, would bear responsibility.”

“I see,” Roland said.

“Oh, and before I go on, there is also the matter of your pay. Am I understanding correctly that when the order for the chess set was placed, they were selling for a gold coin each?” Mr. Stevens asked.

“That’s correct. Though the price on them has been reduced to eight silver now, as I have more stock available,” Roland said.

“Well, we will go from the time the order was placed. As this is a special chess set fit for the king, we will pay you…” Mr. Stevens paused as if calculating the amount. “Five times the original price.” Mr. Stevens then took a piece of paper from the table and created a quick receipt for five gold. “At the end of this meeting, just hand this to a bank teller, and they will be able to give you the money.”

Mr. Stevens pushed two pieces of paper over toward Roland. One was the paper slip he had just made, and the other was the original invitation to see the king. Roland, receiving them both, looked at the invitation to the castle, having feared he may never see it again; it seemed more precious to him than the voucher worth five coins. Mr. Stevens looked over at the merchant. Shuffling his papers, he picked one of them up.

“The Merchant’s Guild will appoint an assistant to help you with all the details of the king’s set. They will also be going to Kingstown. I haven’t yet made up my mind, but I am considering Luna the elf. Gil seems to have taken some sort of liking to her, and she used to live in Kingstown. Would you object to that?”

“No, Luna would be fine,” Roland said, with a small laugh to himself.

“Then that brings us to after the trip. This is something that could prove a great deal larger, business-wise, than the king’s chess set.”

“What?” Roland asked.

“The council seems to think that, with you being originally from the empire of Saladin, you might have some connections there. As you may know, goods from your homeland are quite the rage across the kingdom. Being the only foreign merchant ever to visit the king will open up some profitable endeavors.”

“I am not sure I’m following,” Roland said.

“The Merchant’s Council has a shipping fleet. It’s only five ships currently, but they are the largest shipping vessels in the entire kingdom.” Mr. Stevens paused to get a reaction from Roland.

Roland looked at him, half confused and half excited. It was as if the merchant inside of him had already figured out the deal before his brain had. Noticing Roland’s expression change, Mr. Stevens continued.

“If all the matters for his royal highness go well, the council has an offer that I’m sure would prove lucrative for both parties. They have agreed to loan you a portion of their fleet, contingent upon this trip’s outcome. You would then sail home and fill the holds of the ships up with goods from your homeland. Bringing back things like spices and silks, those sorts of items could make you rich. For the use of the ships, you would then sell those items to the council at wholesale prices, a markup of no more than ten percent. Of course, the ships would be empty on the way there, perfect for you to fill with whatever merchandise you wanted to take with you to sell.” Mr. Stevens grinned.

The idea was beyond Roland’s wildest dreams. Mr. Stevens outlined something that could easily be worth more money than Roland would see in several years. While he was successful doing business how he was, such an arrangement would open up far more possibilities.

Looking over at Mr. Stevens, Roland smiled and nodded his head. The number of goods a ship could carry was enormous, and introducing his homeland to some of his recent products, like chess, could make him an exceptionally wealthy merchant. Roland’s head was flooded with thoughts about the offer.

“Just so you do understand, that offer is, of course, dependent on the success of the king’s chess set,” Mr. Stevens said. “Do you have any questions?”

“So I, Gil, and one of his family would be going on the trip,” Roland said. It was more of a statement than a question.

“Correct, and you and whatever advisor I appoint from the guild would be solely responsible for getting Gil and one of his family members ready for an invitation to dine with the king. That includes their appearance, behavior, and speech around the king. In addition to that, you would be tasked with getting the king’s chess set complete. Of course, the Merchant’s Guild is footing the bill for that,” Mr. Stevens explained.

“I think I understand,” Roland said.

Though it had been a long and winding path to get there, the time had finally come to make the product and get ready for the trip. Mr. Stevens looked over at the merchant, and he could see that Roland looked excited. Looking through his papers, Mr. Stevens tried to ensure that he had not overlooked any details that needed to be discussed with Roland.

“If you have any other questions, you know where to find me,” Roland said, standing up from the table.

Though Mr. Stevens didn’t have all the papers, the meeting seemed to have gone well. Leaving the meeting room, he began to climb the stairs back up to his office. Along the way, Mr. Stevens whistled a little tune to himself.

Seeing Mr. Stevens had returned, Herman watched him intently. The senior clerk was starting to let his curiosity get the better of him. Drifting over to Mr. Stevens’ office, he eavesdropped on his boss’s conversation with his secretary.

“Samantha, I will need you to write up a message to Mr. Spangler. It just needs to say I had a meeting with the merchant, Roland, and discussed all the details. Though I will want to look that one over before it’s sent out.” Mr. Stevens said.

“Of course, Mr. Stevens,” Samantha replied.

“One other thing. I want to see the recent reviews for everyone in the office,” Mr. Stevens said.

“I will gather them at once.”

Herman thought over the words he had just heard. Mr. Spangler was the head of the Merchant’s Guild, that much he knew. What Roland had to do with anything was still a mystery. Herman let out a tiny sigh and was beginning to return to his desk when he saw Roland waiting in the bank line.

Moving over that way, Herman relieved the current teller to serve the merchant and perhaps figure out the missing part. Once at the front of the line, Roland handed the slip of paper across the counter. Herman took the paper slip and looked at it.

The note was a bank payment authorized by Mr. Stevens that by itself was not odd. Occasionally, in a minor miscalculation, the bank made up the difference using such means. The form, however, was for a considerable amount, five gold, and the reason for it was not listed. The more Herman dug, and the less he learned, the more questions he had.

Chapter 16: The Daily Grind

Gil was spending every day at the bakery. Mrs. Olden cut back on how often she was helping, so Gil was alone more frequently. Gil had learned all he needed to know to run the shop. On the days he was alone, he tried making smaller batches of dough and found it was far easier on him.

One day, when Mrs. Olden was there, a man Gil had never seen before stopped by. Gil looked the man over but was not sure who it was. Mrs. Olden, seeing him, moved to the front counter.

“This here is Danny. He’s our supplier,” Mrs. Olden said, introducing the man.

Gil nodded. “It’s nice to meet you. I bought the bakery from Mrs. Olden.”

“Oh, I see,” Danny said. “I sell the ingredients you use, the flour and yeast and things like that.”

“Is it possible to get other things?” Gil inquired.

“Like what?” Danny asked curiously.

“Do you, by chance, have a list of the items you carry?”

“I do, hold on.” Danny went back out to his cart and soon returned with a page of items that he could supply.

“Danny is very helpful, but I wouldn’t bother with any extra items from him,” Mrs. Olden said quietly while Danny was out of the shop.

“Why not?” Gil asked.

“Well, there’s just no need for them. The bread recipe sells just fine, and all those extras cost more.”

“The bread does sell well, but I would like to expand the menu some. Make it mine, I suppose,” Gil said.

“Expand the menu?” Mrs. Olden asked, more to herself than to Gil.

Before they could continue to talk about it, Danny returned with the list. “Here you go,” he said, handing it to Gil.

“Oh, you carry a lot of things,” Gil remarked, looking over the list.

“Sure do,” Danny replied. “If anything interests you, I can grab some samples from my cart.”

Gil looked over the list, discovering that he could get more than just the necessary items for bread from the supplier. Danny carried a large selection of spices and cooking items. Some ingredients, like sugar, were slightly expensive, but Gil knew they could prove valuable when matched with the proper recipe.

“What’s this?” Gil asked, pointing at an item that said, ‘Brown Bark from the Glasc Tree.’

“Oh, that’s a spicy ingredient used for some medical purposes,” Danny said. “Some healers grind it up with a pestle and mortar and add it into certain teas.”

“Could I take a look at that?” Gil asked.

“Of course, I will go get some,” Danny said, leaving the shop.

When he returned, he placed down something Gil recognized. On the counter in front of him sat a cinnamon stick. Picking up the item, Gil held it up to his nose. It was, without a doubt, actual cinnamon. That was just the thing Gil had been looking for. With the right ingredients and some time and effort, he was confident he could make some new products.

“I’ll take some of that and some sugar,” Gil said, holding the stick up. “Do you sell pestles and mortars?”

“I do,” Danny said.

“Well, I guess I will take two of those with the rest of the order then.”

Danny calculated the cost, and Gil paid him the amount. Looking over the ingredients, Gil knew he had what was needed to make cinnamon rolls. The rest of the day went as expected, and Gil used his free time to begin grinding up the cinnamon. It was a time-consuming task, but he started experimenting with it when finished. Mrs. Olden, seeing how comfortable Gil had become in the bakery, moved over and watched him work.

“It looks like you can take care of the place by yourself,” Mrs. Olden said. “To be honest, I’m not sure I would have believed it if I hadn’t seen it myself.”

Gil looked up at the older woman. “I like to cook, and I have some ideas about the future of the bakery.”

“I see that,” Mrs. Olden said. “Well, I think it might be time for me to leave you to it.”

While Gil didn’t need Mrs. Olden's help anymore, he was sorry to see her go. The experience she had and the kindness she had shown him were things he would miss. The bakery did a decent business with the basic bread alone, all due to Mrs. Olden. Gil, however, saw the opportunity for more business growth.

With some work, Gil eventually made something that resembled a sweet bread. It was similar to Mrs. Olden’s original recipe, but a softer, sweeter version. Even after Mrs. Olden had stopped coming in regularly, she would still stop by the bakery to see how things were going. It was on one such visit that she discovered the new sweet bread.

“I’ve never seen anything like that bread of yours,” Mr. Olden said, taking a bite.

“It’s good,” Gil said. “Though I wish it were a little fluffier.”

“Have you tried adding more water?” Mrs. Olden asked.

“Yes, I did that, but it made the dough too sticky,” Gil said.

Sales of the new sweet bread were slow to take off at first. The bakery customers were used to only a single item on the menu and seemed hesitant to buy something else. Gil had an idea of how to fix this, though. Lowering the price of the sweet bread to almost what it cost helped entice customers to try it.

In addition to that, he would also slice a loaf up and give away free samples. Between the two methods, the bread was adopted by some of his customers. Especially those who learned they could get two sweet bread loaves for the price of one regular loaf. It eventually became more popular than the traditional bread.

The additional sales meant Gil would need further help, or he would always be stuck working at the bakery. Additionally, he was able to raise the price of the sweet loaves to the same as the regular bread. Gil initially tried to bring in Cam to help him out. While large enough to mix the batches just as Mrs. Olden had, Cam sadly proved less helpful at running the oven.

“Cam, did you check those loaves?” Gil asked.

Cam opened the oven, and, seeing the dark black edges on the bread, realized he had burnt another batch. Having Cam as a worker was proving costly, as sometimes entire batches of dough had to be tossed out. Realizing it was costing more than he was making, Gil had to figure out how to let his brother go.

“You lost another one?” Gil said with a sigh.

“I’m sorry, Gil,” Cam apologized.

“It’s alright. I just don't think you are cut out for baking,” Gil said.

Gil, who had initially thought Cam would be upset when he told him, could see that his brother looked strangely relieved. Maybe Cam also knew his skills lay elsewhere. Whatever the reason, Gil needed to find someone else to help him.

“I still am going to need some help. Do you know anyone, Cam?” Gil asked.

“Just leave it to me,” Cam said confidently.

There wasn’t a precise individual in Cam’s mind, but he knew that he could find someone. Gil also found that believable since Cam’s social skills were quite impressive. After just a little thought, Cam remembered that Judy had once given him a cookie that she had baked. While it had been a little bland, the cookie was certainly better than his burnt bread.

“Have you thought about Judy?” Cam asked.

“No, I can’t believe I didn’t think of that,” Gil said, hitting his forehead with his palm.

With the matter settled among them, all that was left was to ask Judy’s parents. Remembering when William had spoken to Mr. Holms, Gil thought he’d have better luck asking her mother. So after work that day, on the ride home, the boys stopped by their house to ask. Cam waited on the horse while Gil knocked on the door. Mrs. Holms greeted him, and upon looking down, her eyes widened in surprise at seeing the small boy.

“What brings you by today, Gil?” Mrs. Holms asked.

“I bought a bakery in the village. It’s going so well that I will need some help running it. Do you think Judy could help me?”

Mrs. Holms’ expression changed, and it was apparent she was thinking about it. “ I think it’s a wonderful idea, though you should probably run it by her father also.”

Gil wasn’t sure what to think about that. Based on their past interactions, he believed that Mr. Holms and himself had a strained relationship at best. Admittedly, things had gotten better over time, but he was still a strange one to deal with.

Nodding his head in agreement, Gil said, “Is Mr. Holms around?”

“Yes, he is. Why don't you come inside? I believe he’s in the study.”

Gil entered the house and, gathering his courage, walked over towards the study. Though he had spoken to Mr. Holms the last few years before harvest time, the topic at hand was very different. At the entryway, Gil thought over what he would say.

“Excuse me,” Gil said.

Mr. Holms looked over at the boy. Knowing that it wasn’t harvest time, he wondered what Gil was doing there. Motioning, he directed Gil into the room.

“What is it?” Mr. Holms asked.

“I was just speaking with your wife, and she thought I should ask you something.”

“Well out with it, boy,” Mr. Holms said.

“I recently bought the bakery in Brighton. As I’m doing far more business than I can handle alone, I was looking to hire an employee. For that, I thought Judy might be a good choice.”

“Judy?” Mr. Holms asked. “Yes, she has an interest in baking. Just how do you intend to get her to the shop each day?”

“Well, I bought a horse for that,” Gil said proudly.

“A horse and a bakery.” Mr. Holms let the words sink in. “It looks like you are on your way to being quite a successful young man.”

The words, while not exactly a yes, were encouraging. Gil looked over at Mr. Holms, who seemed deep in thought. Finally, the man nodded his head, as if he had made up his mind.

“I will have to talk to Sally about it, but I don't see a reason why Judy can’t.”

“Thank you, sir,” Gil said.

Leaving the room, Mrs. Holms stopped Gil with a gentle touch. “Why don’t you stop by tomorrow after work. I think things will be worked out by then.”

Gil nodded as he made his way to the door and back onto Pip. The boys continued on their way home. The following day, after Gil was done at the bakery, they stopped by the Holms' house again.

Judy’s mother greeted Gil at the front door. Calling upstairs for her daughter, Judy was soon seen coming down the steps. Gil smiled at his friend.

“I’ll leave you two to discuss the particulars,” Mrs. Holms said, excusing herself and going back into the house.

“What’s up, Gil?” Judy asked.

“Well, I bought the bakery in the village, and I’m going to need some help running it,” Gil said.

“The bakery?” Judy’s eyes lit up as the news sank in. “I’ve always wanted to work in a bakery.”

It had been Judy’s dream to work in a bakery, and she was quite the skilled baker. Mrs. Holms had taught her a lot about baking and making treats. Stepping out the door, she embraced Gil in a giant hug.

In Judy’s mind, Gil had bought the bakery solely for her. While far from the reason for the purchase, Gil did own it. Moving in close to him, she leaned her head next to his ear.

“Thank you,” Judy whispered.

“It’s still work,” Gil said. “I can pay you, though.”

“I know that, but baking is so much fun!”

“If you want, I can stop by in the morning and pick you up. It’ll be really early. We can then ride in together on Pip,” Gil said.

Judy, overcome with emotion, kissed him on his cheek and squealed with delight. Gil felt even more shocked and embarrassed that he hadn’t thought about asking her before. Judy was an obvious choice, as she had proven herself the year earlier during their apple sales.

Beginning the next day, Gil and Judy rode Pip to the bakery early. Judy was quieter than Gil remembered her being. Their bodies were pressed up next to each other, and Judy had her arms around his waist.

While there was a lot of work ahead of them, Gil slowed Pip down slightly as they rode into town. Judy thought he had done so just for her, but in reality, Gil had always enjoyed Judy’s company. Gil saw Judy as the child she was, and because of that, her company made him feel his real age, like a father figure.

“This is it,” Gil said, unlocking the door and letting Judy into the back of the bakery for the first time.

Judy’s eyes lit up; the back area of the bakery was just like a kitchen. Moving over by the stove, she admired how large it was.

“We can bake a lot of things all at once,” Judy said.

“Have to,” Gil said. “I bought several more ingredients, and I want to try making a cinnamon roll.”

“What’s a cinnamon roll?” Judy asked.

“It’s a treat from the world I come from,” Gil said. “They are a rolled pastry. With cinnamon between the layers. Most have some kind of icing on top.”

“Hmmm…” Judy thought over what Gil described. “We might need milk for that.”

Gil hadn’t thought of using milk, as he had been too busy getting the sugar, salt, and other items. Looking over at Judy, Gil could tell she would be helpful. Judy, who was happy to work side-by-side with Gil, felt like all her dreams were coming true.

“If you ever have to wear a jacket or have something with you, it can be stored over here in the tiny office,” Gil said. “This wall over here has spoons and other items that you might need.”

“Oh, I see, that's a lot of them,” Judy replied, looking over the wall.

“Over here are the bowls,” Gil pointed out. “And the pans are over there. We should start mixing up the regular dough, so I can show you how to put it into the pans for cooking.”

Judy nodded. “Ok.”

“Mrs. Olden taught me how to do this,” Gil said. “First, we lay out all the items we need onto the table and sprinkle it with flour. Then I will get some water from the well out back. The basic recipe is just water, flour, oil, yeast, and some salt.”

“If you have sugar, just a little of it will make the bread better.”.

Judy’s skills at baking were something to see, and Gil let her experiment with a portion of the dough. Keeping that loaf separate, they set about the usual recipe. Gil was careful to keep the loaves apart in the oven.

“I think they're done,” Gil said, taking one of the loaves out and laying it on the table.

“Good, then after they cool, we can compare mine to Mrs. Olden’s,” Judy said.

When the loaves were cool, Gil did just that, and he found that Judy’s recipe was even better than the one Mrs. Olden had created. Eating another bite, he looked over at Judy and could see that, similarly to Mrs. Olden, she threw herself into her work. On Judy’s right cheek was a smudge of flour. Reaching over, Gil gently brushed it away with his thumb. Judy looked at him wide-eyed. Being so close to the one she loved, that action had much more importance to her. However, for Gil, it was just a nice thing to do.

Using the skills her mother had taught her, Judy soon proved extremely valuable. With Judy’s help, Gil perfected a recipe for cinnamon rolls that quickly became his favorite sweet. Since the sweetbread had been so delicious, the local community could not contain their curiosity when another sweet item was added. The bakery was soon the busiest location in the entire village.

The shop received tremendous positive feedback by word of mouth, as the treats they were serving were very different. With the addition of Judy, the bakery was doing more business than it had been. Gil was so impressed by her that he raised the amount he was paying her and started calling Judy, the bakery’s manager.

Chapter 17: An Idea

It was surprising to both Cam and Gil how easily Judy mastered the creative and yummy dessert recipes. Soon, the bakery was so busy, they needed to add additional help. Gil, running the front counter, looked back over at Judy.

“I think we will need to add someone else to help out,” Gil said.

“Why don’t you ask my brother?” Judy said. “Barry is actually a good boy when you get him away from Tom.”

Barry had matured some, and Gil had started getting along pretty well with him. Besides, Barry seemed interested in making money and was always up for any crazy scheme so long as he got paid. Gil thought the choice over carefully before saying anything.

“You think Barry would be able to take orders from you?” Gil asked.

“He better, or I’ll whack him with a wooden spoon,” Judy said.

It wasn’t the thing Gil was expecting her to say, but it made him laugh. Maybe Barry is a good choice. They needed someone, and Barry, if nothing else, was available.

So, stopping by the Holms’ house, Gil and Judy dismounted Pip. Walking together, they were soon at the door. Judy looked over at Gil and smiled.

“So you're going to ask Barry?” Judy said.

“That’s the plan,” Gil replied.

“Well, if you wait right here, I will go get my mother,” Judy said.

Gil, looking around, saw Tom heading over to the doorway. As the older boy grew closer, Gil could see that he had tanned significantly. It was obvious he had just finished a day of working in the orchard, as he had sweat on his forehead.

“What’s up, squirt?” Tom said with a grin.

“Just dropping Judy off from work.”

“Yea, I heard she was helping you at the bakery,” Tom said. “I guess those that can’t do real work do stuff like that.”

Gil did his best to ignore Tom’s comment, but it did sting. Tom moved up the steps and was soon right next to Gil.

“I’ve been learning all about the apple orchard from my father. Someday, all those trees you see out there are going to be mine,” Tom said with a sneer. “So good luck with your little bakery.”

“That might be the nicest thing you ever said to me, Tom,” Gil said.

That just riled the older boy up more who was now pacing about. “I didn't mean it like that,” Tom said.

Gil grinned as the front door opened, and Mrs. Holms looked out on the porch. Gil, seeing her, breathed a little sigh of relief as Tom was somewhat unpredictable.

“Judy said you had something to ask, Gil?” Mrs. Holms said.

“I do. Business at the bakery has been so good that I need another employee. Judy recommended Barry for the job,” Gil said.

“Really?” Mrs. Holms seemed pleasantly surprised that her daughter would recommend her brother.

“So I’m here asking if he would be interested in such a thing,” Gil said.

“What?” Tom asked, the words seemingly just sinking in.

“Your brother, Barry, I’m here to offer him a job at the bakery,” Gil repeated for Tom.

“But you can’t. I think… I need him out in the fields helping with the apples,” Tom said.

Mrs. Holms looked over at her oldest and slightly rolled her eyes. Tom hadn’t expressed any interest in Barry helping with the apples before, and she was sure the show was just to get one over on Gil. While Mr. Holms was entirely unaware of how his children behaved, Mrs. Holms was the exact opposite.

“Your father hasn’t mentioned wanting him on the work team,” Mrs. Holms said, looking at Tom.

“Well, he probably just forgot,” Tom replied, looking down.

“We can leave the decision up to Mr. Holms then, I guess,” Mrs. Holms said. “For now, why don’t you discuss the details of the job with Barry.”

Yelling back into the house, Mrs. Holms called Barry to the door. As Barry emerged from the home, Tom looked over at his brother.

“What’s going on?” Barry asked.

Before Gil could speak, Tom interrupted, “Gil here thinks you might want to work at the bakery. I think Father would let you work out in the fields if you asked him, though.”

Barry looked over at Tom like he was crazy. If it came to a choice of working for his brother or Gil, Barry seemed to have already made up his mind. The work Gil always asked of him was far more manageable, and he was a much nicer boss.

“Work at the bakery?” Barry asked. “Just like sis?”

Gil nodded his head. “Yea, I need some additional help. It’s a real job that pays and everything. Of course, you would have to try to be on time and work hard. Also, Judy is now my manager, so that means you would be taking orders from her.”

“Taking orders from our sister. Are you insane?” Tom said. “Barry and I would never take orders from sis.”

Barry thought over the offer while Tom stared and squinted at him. Eventually, Barry nodded. Reaching out a hand to Gil, Barry confidently chose the bakery.

Gil and Judy rode Pip to the bakery in the mornings. Cam had to get up early to saddle Pip, but it meant he could go back to bed afterwards. It was an arrangement he liked. Later that morning, Cam could walk into the village with Barry. Once at the bakery, the two would part ways, and Cam would ride Pip back to the cabin.

In the late afternoon, after helping his father, Cam would ride Pip back when the bakery was closed. Then Gil would take Judy home on the horse while Cam and Barry walked home behind them. Everything worked out well, and it allowed Cam to get out of some woodworking, which he liked.

With two employees, Gil found himself with some free time. Stepping over to the pot, he had seen during his first day of work with Mrs. Olden, Gil took another look at it. The metal pot was hefty and large, and he saw its true potential. Sadly, it was too big for Gil to carry.

The following morning, as Gil was getting ready to leave, he took a look at the wagon. Moving over that way, he tried unsuccessfully to hook it up a couple of times. Not strong enough to attach it alone, Gil went back inside. Gil looked around the cabin and found Cam getting ready to go back to bed. Relieved his brother hadn’t gone back to sleep, he grabbed his arm.

“What is it?” Cam asked with a yawn.

“I need your help to attach the wagon to Pip,” Gil said.

Cam groaned, but followed Gil out to Pip’s stall. Cam hooked the wagon up to Pip and sent Gil off for the day without difficulty. Promptly afterward, he returned back to bed. Later that day, when Cam arrived in town to take Pip back to the cabin, Gil had another task for him.

“Hey, can I borrow you for a moment?” Gil asked, meeting Cam in the backyard of the bakery.

“Sure, what do you need?”

“I’ve got this big cooking pot inside, and I want to take it over to the metal workers. Could you load it up for me? Barry can help if you need it.”

Cam went into the bakery to look at the cooking pot in question. Using both hands, he tried lifting it and was successful. The most challenging part of carrying it out of the bakery was the shape rather than the weight.

“What are you doing with that?” Judy asked Gil, watching Cam carry the pot.

“I’m going to see about getting it modified at the Metal Worker’s Guild,” Gil said.

“Modified for what?” Judy asked. “Are we going to start making soup next?”

“No, nothing like that. At least not with soup. I was thinking about trying to create an alcohol still,” Gil said.

Judy’s eyes widened. “Our father says that alcohol makes a lot of money.”

“It can. Most of that will depend on if that pot can be modified.”

“Well good luck!” Judy said. “If anyone can make it work, it’ll be you.”

Gil stepped into the backyard of the bakery to see Cam sitting in the back of the wagon with the cooking pot. Gil left Judy in charge and got up on Pip. Together, they set out for the Metal Worker’s Guild.

Within a few minutes, they arrived. Unlike last time, Gil didn’t make Cam wait further down the road, and instead, rode Pip up to the building. Jonas, as per usual, stepped outside to greet them.

“Back again?” Jonas asked.

“Yeah, I need some work done on this cooking pot,” Gil said.

“A cooking pot, huh? It doesn't look broken,” Jonas said. “That’s a pretty large one, though. I’ll have to open the doors so you can bring it in. You’ll want to leave your horse out here. It’s pretty loud inside. You can hook him up to that tree over there.” Jonas pointed to a tree.

Jonas liked Gil for whatever reason and considered them to be friends. It wasn’t evident whether it was Gil's smaller size or his crazy inventions. Regardless, Jonas was always happy to see Gil at the shop.

Gil liked the metal craftsmen’s work and strangely felt he understood Jonas better than most humans. The dwarf, in Gil’s eyes, was far more open in what he liked and disliked. While some might have said he didn’t have manners, Gil liked to think of Jonas as straightforward.

Directing Pip over to a nearby tree, Gil got down and tied him to it. Cam unhooked the wagon and rotated it towards the building. Before Cam pulled the wagon any further, Jonas joined them by the tree and pointed at it.

“While you’re over here, grab some leaves for your ears,” Jonas said.

“What?” Gil asked.

Jonas plucked a low leaf off the tree. Rolling the leaf up, he placed it in his ear.

“Like this,” Jonas said. “The shop can be very loud.”

Gil and Cam followed the dwarf’s instructions, and much to Gil’s surprise, the rolled-up leaves acted like earplugs, dampening noise. Jonas took one side of the wagon, and Cam took the other. Together, they were able to pull it to the building quickly.

Moving over to several large doors on the building, Jonas reached down and opened one of them. It opened like a garage door on a house would. Jonas and Cam moved the wagon the rest of the way inside the building.

The heat from inside the foundry bellowed out the open doorway. It was a noisy place, with the sound of humans and dwarves pounding away on anvils. The rhythm created a strange pattern, which Gil found somewhat musical.

Jonas hopped up onto the wagon and looked at the metal pot in the back. Turning it around, the dwarf tried to see if it needed patching. Not seeing what Gil wanted, he looked over at the boy.

“I don't see any holes,” Jonas said.

“Yea, I had something else in mind,” Gil said. “Is there a place we can go to discuss the work?”

“Sure, let me get this unloaded.”

Reaching down, the dwarf picked up the large pot Cam had carried using only one arm, as if it weighed nothing. It was then that Gil realized how strong dwarves were. Gil looked on in awe as the pot was unloaded. Jonas set it down on the foundry floor and motioned for Gil and Cam to follow him.

“Come this way,” Jonas said.

Gil nodded and followed Jonas over in his direction. Looking around, the boys could see that a gigantic blast furnace was located right in the heart of the building. The heat around it was so intense that everything in its direction looked fuzzy and out of focus.

That must be what is making the building so hot. Looking up from the furnace, Gil saw a series of pipes mounted to the walls. All around him, human shapes, some smaller, were heating metal red hot before pounding it into what they wanted. The entire process was a sight, and Gil watched the talented artisan’s work.

Looking back in the direction the others had gone, Gil could see they had gotten further ahead, so he quickened his pace to make up the difference. What would have taken anyone else a few long strides required Gil to almost run. At the end of a hallway, they entered a small room. When Jonas closed the door behind them, it became practically silent. Jonas then took a pad of paper from a table over to the side and looked at Gil.

“So, what changes are you needing?” Jonas asked.

Gil was bent over, trying to catch his breath. “I want… a large funnel attached… to the top of the pot.” There was a pause as he took a few deep breaths and regained control. “I’ll also need some copper tubing.”

“What?” Jonas asked. “Draw a picture.”

Jonas passed the pad and pencil over to Gil, who took them and soon had sketched out an alcohol still. Jonas nodded excitedly, knowing precisely what Gil wanted, and turned the paper around. Cam looked over Gil’s shoulder, confused by what his brother had drawn.

“What is it?” Cam asked.

“Do you mind if I edit it some?” Jonas asked.

“You know what it is?” Gil asked.

“Well it's a might small, but yea. It’s an alcohol still,” Jonas said.

Gil nodded his head, slightly surprised. “Good, you can make any changes you think it needs.”

Jonas noticed Gil’s surprise. “My kind are heavy drinkers, we’re very knowledgeable about stills.”

It was then that Gil learned something else about dwarves: they liked alcohol. Two of Jonas's favorite things in this world were good alcohol and metalworking. Making minor adjustments to the design, Gil could see that the dwarf understood what he wanted. Soon the arrangement looked like what the dwarves used to make spiced dwarven rum, just on a much, much smaller scale.

“We can put a sliding hatch here,” Jonas said, pointing at part of the funnel.

“What is it?” Cam asked again.

“It’s an alcohol still,” Gil replied, his tone slightly annoyed with Cam. “I think a sliding hatch is a good idea.”

Gil had kept his design simple, but the details Jonas had added would make things easier. Passing the paper back over to Gil, he looked it over.

“That should work,” Gil said.

Jonas nodded, “If all goes well, I could have it done in two days. As I'm between jobs right now, I can do the work myself.” Jonas said the last bit with a big smile on his face.

With that, the meeting was over, and the boys left the small room. Moving back out into the loud sounds of the building and down the hallway. Soon, the boys found themselves back outside. Gil watched as Cam and Jonas pulled the cart out from the building.

The cool air outside was refreshing, and Gil breathed in deeply. Re-mounting Pip, it was not long before Gil returned to the bakery. Once there, Cam unhitched the wagon, leaving it behind at the bakery, and took off riding Pip back home.

Chapter 18: Alcohol

Gil went inside the bakery to help Judy and Barry tend to their customers. The shop was busy, and everyone had work to do. When the rush was over, Gil looked at his employees; they had done an excellent job.

“Busy again, I see,” Gil said.

“I’ll say,” Barry replied. “It’s been like this for a few days.”

“I think we are doing more business than Mrs. Olden ever did,” Judy commented.

Gil, who had been keeping track, knew they had been doing more business ever since Judy had started helping. The cheerful attitude she brought each day and her talent at baking was something everyone loved. Judy had been the perfect fit with her ability to improve Gil’s ideas.

Judy was the easiest person for Gil to talk to about things. The work and stress of all he was doing seemed to be getting to him more now than it had. Looking around, he could see they all were exhausted.

Gil handed Judy the broom while he took some pans to the back to wash. Barry grabbed a cloth and wiped off the counter. It didn’t take long to have a spotless shop with all three of them working.

As Gil worked, he thought about his future. Running the bakery was what he had wanted to do, but thoughts still nagged him from the back of his head. Am I doing enough?

Seeing Gil was in his own world, Judy took the opportunity to sneak a hug from him. The physical touch snapped Gil back to reality, and he looked around him. I’ve already taken the first steps, but I don’t think I’d be this successful if Judy wasn’t helping me.

“Tom doesn’t know what he’s missing. This is much better than working in the fields,” Barry said.

“Tom’s just mean,” Judy said. “I don’t even think he likes the orchard. He thinks it makes him better than us.”

“Working in the food business can be fun. If we stay as busy as we have been, we might have to hire someone else to help out,” Gil said.

“Someone else?” Judy asked.

“Who else would you hire?” Barry asked.

“I don’t know. Cam might know someone,” Gil said.

“Well, don’t hire Tom. He’d run your customers away,” Barry said, lowering his voice to almost a whisper, as if Tom was around the corner eavesdropping on them.

The three of them moved into the little backyard of the bakery. Closing time was the part of the day Gil liked most, as it allowed him to flex his brain. Looking over the small fenced-in area, Gil got out a piece of paper and began to draw out the plans for a small outdoor grill made of stone blocks.

“What is that?” Judy asked, looking at what Gil was drawing.

“This? It’s an outdoor grill or fire pit,” Gil answered.

“What’s that for? Are we going to start cooking outside?” Barry asked.

“No, nothing like that. It’s to heat the alcohol still I’m having made,” Gil said.

Barry scratched his head. “An alcohol still, what’s that?”

“It’s a device to make alcohol. I was thinking of adding on a side business,” Gil said.

“A side business?” Judy asked, thinking it over. “That’s a great idea. Then you can use this space for something.”

“Aren’t we busy enough?” Barry said.

“In business, you can never be too busy,” Gil told him.

“I see Cam and Pip!” Judy said.

“Time to go home,” Barry said.

Cam arrived, and all four of them made their way to the Holms’ residence. Judy and Gil shared a ride on Pip as the older boys walked behind them. Reaching the house, the brothers said goodbye to Judy and Barry. Cam then hopped up onto Pip with Gil. Without telling Cam the plan, Gil directed Pip back towards Brighton.

“Why are we going back to town?” Cam groaned.

“I have some things I want to buy,” Gil said, “for the alcohol still.”

Cam nodded his head, but he wasn’t excited. Ever since Gil had bought the bakery, Cam had been getting a lot of odd jobs from his brother. Gil always paid him for the work, but it was almost exclusively heavy lifting. At the start, Gil had been a lot more open about those plans and would explain them, but the longer it went on, the less forthcoming he had become.

Arriving back into the fenced yard behind the bakery, Gil showed Cam the design he had made, and Cam looked at it as if he understood, though he had no idea what Gil wanted. Technical drawing was not something Cam had much interest in, so to him, it was just lines on a page.

Gil always promised to help his brother with the work, but that really meant supervising Cam. While Cam knew Gil couldn’t do the heavy lifting, he was sure Gil could help a little more than he did. Using a stick, Gil outlined what he wanted on the ground.

“So that’s what we’re making?” Cam asked, holding the paper up and scratching his head.

“It sure is,” Gil said. “With a fire pit like that, we should be able to provide a constant heat source for the alcohol still.

“What is it going to be?” Cam asked.

Gil replied, “It’s a stone fire pit. The stones make the walls, and we can burn logs in the middle.”

“Stones?” Cam asked, thinking about the heavy work ahead.

“Yea, that’s why I need you,” Gil replied. “The walls have to be thick enough to stand up to the heat of the fire.”

The first order of business was to get the stone blocks. They would have to be bought from a merchant. Brighton, and the entire province of Lord Drace lacked a Stone Worker’s Guild and had no quarry.

Fortunately, there was one merchant in town who exclusively carried building supplies. Cam hitched up the wagon, and soon the boys were off looking at various types of stone. The experience was boring for Cam, who watched his brother ooh and ahh over rectangle rocks.

“This might work. What do you think?” Gil asked.

“I don’t know?” Cam replied, unsure of the type of stone his project needed.

“That’s a very sturdy stone. It comes from Lord Talon’s land,” the man selling the building supplies said.

“Do you have twelve of them?” Gil asked.

“You’re in luck. I do,” the salesman said.

Finding the ones he needed, Gil paid for the stones while Cam loaded the heavy blocks into the wagon. When Cam was done, they were off back to the bakery. There, Cam unloaded the stone blocks he had just loaded onto the ground and unhitched the wagon from Pip.

“Did you have to get such heavy blocks?” Cam asked, looking at the stack he had made.

“Yes, it’s important that the stone holds up to the heat of the fire,” Gil said.

Cam placed the stones as Gil instructed him to. Gil then went around and made sure each stone was level. That meant Cam often had to place the same stone more than once. When the older brother had placed the last rock, Gil climbed on top of them to make sure they could support his weight.

“All done,” Cam said, exhausted.

“That looks good.”

Walking around the construction, Gil examined it closely. Finally, the younger boy nodded that he was satisfied with the work. Both the boys were tired on the ride home, especially Cam, who had done all the lifting.

Gil was happy that all his plans so far had seemed to be working out. However, the most challenging part lay ahead of him: convincing William to be the face of his alcohol brand.

It was an idea that had occurred to Gil about a week earlier. Alcohol was a serious business, and he would need every advantage he could get. Getting William on board with the project would go a long way to making that happen. However, it was probably the most challenging part.

William had been reluctant to accept the mantle of ‘Dragonslayer,’ whatever that meant. Gil felt if William did, then their family’s entire future would be better. Gil was, after all, not just bettering his future life but that of the whole family.

Having been in Gil’s body for some time, Kirk had noticed it was fairly common to label products with famous fighters and ‘heroes’ names. How William fit into all that, he still wasn’t exactly sure. However, he hadn’t heard of any other individuals being called ‘Dragonslayers.’

Whether William wanted to admit it or not, he was famous. One way or another, Gil was going to make him the face of his alcohol business. Though he wasn’t sure how, Gil had already begun working on a plan.

It was dark by the time the boys arrived home. While Cam put Pip into his stable, Gil went inside the house. Cam was physically exhausted from moving so many stones around. Walking into the cabin, his arms felt like noodles.

“There you both are!” William exclaimed as they entered the cabin. “You missed dinner; what happened?”

“It was just business,” Gil said.

“Moving stones for Gil,” Cam said.

“Stones? What are you up to now, Gil?” William asked.

“I needed some changes made at the bakery,” Gil replied, trying to be as vague as possible.

“What kind of changes?” William asked angrily.

“You said that the bakery work was mine alone. Cam was helping me work, and I intend to pay him for it,” Gil said, sidestepping William’s question.

William looked over the boys, he could tell Cam was worn out and Gil was not in a very talkative mood. Usually, William would have pressed the boys on the issue, but seeing they hadn’t eaten supper yet and it was already dark outside, he held off. Gil’s work, which William had thought would be an excellent way to keep him busy, was proving to be a problem.

“If you are going to be this late getting home, I would like to know in advance,” William said.

It was a valid point, and Gil felt bad. If Gil had not been so excited about the new business, he could have put it off for another day. Sitting down at the table, Gil put his head down.

“I should have told you yesterday,” Gil said. “It was careless not to.”

Gil, who rarely admitted to being wrong, had done just that. William wasn’t sure what to think about it. Moving into the kitchen, William reheated something for supper.

The following afternoon, after work, Gil and Cam found themselves back at the Metal Worker’s Guild. Moving over toward the building, Gil saw Jonas waiting for them. Tying Pip up at the tree, Gil and Cam plucked leaves, rolled them up, and placed them in their ears.

Over at the building, Jonas opened the large door, so Gil and Cam moved inside the foundry. Jonas was next to the metal boiler tank, a vapor cone, and a condenser coil. The construction, while primitive, was everything Gil would need.

Looking the parts over, Gil ran his fingers across their surfaces. With a nod towards Jonas, Gil confirmed everything was just as it should be. Once again, the metal artisans had delivered what he wanted. Jonas and Cam picked up the parts and loaded them onto the wagon.

“What kind of alcohol are you planning on making?” Jonas asked.

“Not sure. I have a couple of recipes I’m going to try out,” Gil answered.

“I ask because we need some good ale around here. That stuff Grober makes is liquid trash,” Jonas said.

Hearing that Grober was in the alcohol business for the first time, Gil scrunched up his nose. Gil had made a business mistake; he hadn’t researched his competitors. The only alcohol I’ve seen was the ale at the harvest festival. Is that Grober’s?

“What kind of ale does Grober make?” Gil asked.

“You don’t know?” Jonas sounded surprised. “He makes what is supposed to be a dark ale, but it’s not very strong.”

“What about the ale at the harvest festival?” Gil asked, thinking his alcohol might be closer to that.

“That’s a lighter ale. It’s ok, still not great, but it sure beats Grober’s stuff.” Jonas smiled. “Too bad you can only get it once a year.”

“Are most alcohols around ale?” Gil asked.

“Around here in the kingdom, they are. You can find a few others in the big cities like Kingstown. But they’re harder to get,” Jonas said.

Thinking over the recipes he had in mind, Gil said, “I suppose mine will be more like a whiskey than an ale.”

Jonas nodded. “Well, make sure I get a taste, won’t you. I want to try it out.”

“I will,” Gil said.

The chit-chat about alcohol made the boys far later than they had planned getting back to the bakery. It was late afternoon, and Barry and Judy were waiting for them, having already finished up for the day. Cam and Barry managed to get the parts off the cart and into the small, fenced area behind the bakery.

“Thank you, Barry,” Gil said.

“It looks weird,” Judy said. “It goes everywhere and it’s all shiny.”

“Not a problem. So that’s an alcohol still, huh?” Barry asked, scratching his head.

“Sure is,” Gil replied. “Well, it will be once we put it together.”

“So you think it will work? Once it’s all put together?” Judy asked.

“Hey Barry,” Cam said. “If you take one end, and I grab the other, I think we can lift the pot up onto the blocks,” Cam said.

Barry moved over to the metal piece Cam motioned at and lifted one side of it. Between them both working together, they placed the body of the alcohol still onto the bricks. Losing much of the day, Gil knew they should head home; otherwise, William would be mad.

“I think that’s enough for today,” Gil said, trying to be the responsible adult.

“Yea, we need to get home,” Barry said, looking up at the sun, trying to judge how late it was.

Gil looked over at the alcohol still; not being able to start brewing until the next day, he sighed. The new business was shaping up to be a big project. Having everything in place made Gil eager to begin.

“Thank you, Cam,” Gil said, reaching into his pouch for some coins.

“At this rate, I’m going to have to go by the bank,” Cam replied.

“I would wait till tomorrow,” Gil suggested. “We still have to take Judy and Barry home.”

“Alright,” Cam said.

Cam took the money and looked over what he and Barry had accomplished. “So that’s all you need to make alcohol? Huh….”

“It sure is. Of course, I’ll have to figure out a good recipe,” Gil said. “That’s the real secret to alcohol.”

“I’m sure you will,” Judy said.

With their work for the day finished, the group headed out of the village. Judy rode behind Gil, with her head laying gently on his shoulder. It had been a long day, and everyone was happy but tired. Barry and Cam walked behind them quietly. It was later than usual for Judy and Barry when they arrived home, so they said their goodbyes at the fence.

Chapter 19: Trial and Error

The following day, Gil got up extra early and gathered his things for work. Looking over at his sleeping brother, he shook his head. With some effort, Gil managed to get Cam up and around too.

“I need you to get dressed and go to Brighton with me,” Gil said.

“What?” Cam asked, having trouble keeping his eyes open.

“Today is the day I start work on my new business,” Gil said. “So I need you to ride into town to help me.”

“Ahhh,” Cam groaned. “It’s so early, not even the sun's awake yet.”

Half dragging his brother out the door with him, they set out. Arriving in Brighton before sunrise, the two set up the still. With Cam’s muscle and Gil’s know-how, the work went quickly, and soon the parts of the alcohol still were all together.

When Cam finished with his part, he sat to the side, and closed his eyes. Gil checked over their work, ensuring it was leak-proof. Climbing up on a small wooden box, Gil looked at the top of the still, his eyes drifting to the sky above.

“Hey, Cam,” Gil said.

“What?” came a weak response from the older brother.

“I think we should get a piece of canvas, like a tent section, and cover above the still. It would help protect it from the weather.”

Cam opened his eyes and looked at the same place Gil was currently. The area above the top of the still was open to the sky, which was a dull orange color. Gil wrote down a tent section on a piece of paper and climbed down.

“I’ll also need some barrels,” Gil said. “Do you think the Carpenter’s Guild will have any?”

“I don’t know?” Cam answered.

“Well, I’ll write down eight,” Gil said, mostly to himself.

Making a few other minor additions to the list, Gil handed it to Cam, who reluctantly took it. Reaching into his money pouch, Gil pulled out a gold coin. Handing it over to Cam, the older boy looked surprised.

“What’s this for?” Cam asked.

“The things on that list. I don’t know how much they will be, but I think that should cover it,” Gil said. “You’ll need to attach the wagon to Pip, oh, and it’s probably about time to pick up Judy.”

“Okay,” Cam replied, finally starting to wake up.

As Cam began to hook up the wagon, Gil looked over at the still. In his past life, he had put together a smaller one. It had been a gift from Ted, his old coworker, for Christmas one year. Though it had only been a two-gallon still, he had a fun time setting it up and trying out new recipes.

When using the smaller still, the goal was always to make something better than the convenience store. Though Gil, or at the time, Kirk, could get close to what they had, he had constantly failed at the task. It was a hobby he liked, much to his wife’s chagrin. Ultimately, it proved too much work and expense to keep messing with, but he had spent a good year brewing.

“I’ll be back, going to swing by and pick up Judy first,” Cam said.

“Okay,” Gil said, waving wildly at his older brother.

Waving was a silly kid thing to do, and Gil wondered why he had done it. Stopping himself, he couldn’t remember telling his arm to wave that way. Similar, annoying things had begun happening to him more and more. On the surface, they were just silly childish behaviors, but Gil started to worry that something was wrong with him.

Cam soon returned with Judy and dropped her off behind the bakery. Gil, who had heard the wagon, opened the back door and stepped out. Gil watched as Cam, with his shopping list, rode out of sight.

“So that’s it?” Judy asked, looking over at the still.

“Sure is,” Gil responded.

“I was surprised to see Cam,” Judy said. “He doesn’t usually get up this early, right?”

“Well, Cam usually puts on Pip’s saddle, as I can’t lift it yet,” Gil said, slightly embarrassed.

“So, what’s he doing?” Judy asked.

“I gave him a shopping list of items I need to get the alcohol still running,” Gil said.

Judy turned and wrinkled her nose, looking at the strange metal contraption in the back of the bakery. It was evident she didn’t know what to think of it. After a few moments, with nothing more to say about it, she went inside to start working.

Cam’s first stop was the Carpenter’s Guild. Tying Pip up outside, he entered through the dragon door. As it was early in the morning, they had no other customers, so he was able to walk up to the table. Mr. Brooks looked up at him.

“Did you bring in some woodworking to sell?” Mr. Brooks asked.

“No, not today. I’m buying,” Cam answered.

“Oh? What do you need?” Mr. Brooks asked.

“Barrels,” Cam replied.

“Barrels? How many?” Mr. Brooks asked.

Cam moved his finger down the list, looking at the notes Gil had made. Reaching the barrels, he moved over to the right to see what Gil had written down. With widened eyes, he raised his attention back up to Mr. Brooks.

“Eight barrels,” Cam said, surprise in his voice.

“Oh my, I don’t think we have that many ready today,” Mr. Brooks said, pulling a list of his own over to him. “No, we only have two full size and one half currently. What on earth do you need that many for?”

“Gil’s starting a new alcohol business. I’ll take what you have,” Cam said. “I will also need an order put in for the other six.”

“An alcohol business? Didn’t he just buy the bakery?” Mr. Brooks asked.

“That’s Gil. He always has new ideas,” Cam said.

Mr. Brooks nodded his head, feeling Cam’s statement was somehow more true than the boy realized. Marking something down on a paper in front of him, he thought back to when William had accidentally brought in Gil’s figures. Cam pulled the gold coin from his pouch and placed it down on the table. Seeing the coin, Mr. Brooks’ looked back up at Cam.

“So the bakery is doing well then?” Mr. Brooks asked.

“They are always busy. The sweet loaves are really good,” Cam said.

“Hmm,” Mr. Brooks said, seeming to note something to himself.

Getting out the key around his neck, Mr. Brooks pulled out the guild’s money box to make Cam’s change. Handing the change over to Cam, he then secured the box back into its drawer. Locking it, he dropped the keys under his robe.

“Do you have a way to carry them?” Mr. Brooks asked.

“I have a cart and a horse,” Cam said.

“William finally got a cart and horse?” Mr. Brooks asked.

“Well, it’s actually Gil’s horse and cart,” Cam said. “I’m just using them today.”

“My, my. You two are growing up quickly. Seems like it was just yesterday William was showing you how to barter with me.” Mr. Brooks paused for a moment. “Then again, Jack is growing up quickly too. I still have a hard time imagining him at the Royal Magical Academy.”

“Have you heard from Jack?” Cam asked.

“He writes to me regularly. He’s doing well but misses everyone,” Mr. Brook said.

“Tell him we miss him too.”

“Will do,” Mr. Brooks said. “Well, if you want, pull around back, and I will inform the apprentices to have your order ready for you.”

Cam nodded as he turned and headed out of the Carpenter’s Guild. Reaching Pip, he untied the horse and climbed on. Making his way to the back of the guild, he saw an apprentice waiting for him with the barrels.

Cam helped load them, and soon they were in the cart. With his first task done, Cam turned and headed over to his next location. The second stop was the same shop Gil had used to buy the stones. Cam wasn’t interested in building supplies, so he went directly to the salesman.

“I need a small patch of tent material,” Cam said.

“How big?” the salesman asked.

“Oh, about big enough to cover that wagon,” Cam answered, figuring it was about the same size or close enough to the alcohol still.

“I have that,” the salesman said.

Soon, a deal was made for the material, and Cam loaded it on the cart. A few more stops and he had everything Gil had written down. As some time had passed that morning, Cam, instead of returning to the bakery, went to the Holms’ house to get Barry. When he arrived, Barry was already waiting on him by the fence.

“You got Pip today!” Barry said.

“Sure do,” Cam said. “Been running some errands for Gil.”

While Gil waited for his brother to return with the supplies, he wrote down a recipe. It was all guesswork at that point, as he wasn’t sure exactly how many gallons the alcohol still in front of him held. With a sigh, he finished up the recipe, knowing it was probably not going to be right the first time.

Gil, remembering some recipes from his world, tried modifying them. Pulling it all from his head wasn’t hard, but something looked off. Reading back over the ingredients, Gil nodded. The only yeast he had was for bread, not brewing, so he wasn’t sure if the quantities and quality would be the same.

As Cam was expected back at any time, he filled the large tank full of water and started a fire under it. Making a batch of whiskey was a time-consuming process, and Gil wasn’t sure how long it would take with the still he had. It was just starting to make some noise when Cam returned with Barry. As the two boys unloaded the items, Gil directed them to place the little barrel over by the still. Barry went in to help his sister, and Cam came over to Gil’s side to give him the change he had.

“Did you make it by the bank?” Gil asked.

“No, not yet,” Cam said, scratching the back of his neck.

“Well, this could take some time. You should probably go now,” Gil said, handing his brother some more coins. “Just unhook Pip, and you can take him with you.”

Cam put the additional coins into his pouch and began unhooking Pip. Having a horse was a convenience that Cam was starting to get used to. When the wagon was back over to the side, Cam climbed on Pip’s back and headed for the bank.

Gil watched his brother disappear, and looking back at what he was doing, he saw the first drop of condensed alcohol fall into the jar. It was slow at first, and then it sped up. As the brew began to make its way out of the still, Gil tossed off the first part, knowing it would be too high in percentage of alcohol for human consumption.

“How’s it going?” Judy asked, having opened the back door to see how Gil was doing.

“Oh fine, just starting to get the first batch now,” Gil said.

Getting to the liquid he could sample, Gil lifted the jar to his mouth. Drinking some, he immediately spit it out. The first attempt was awful, and his face wore a sour expression.

“That bad?” Judy laughed.

“No, worse,” Gil said with a sigh. “I’ll have to dump out this batch. I’m having trouble getting the recipe right.”

“What is in the recipe?” Judy asked.

“I wrote it all down,” Gil said, handing her the paper with the ingredients.

Judy looked over the list, it strangely resembled a bread recipe. However, not familiar with alcohol, she didn’t see how to improve it. With a sigh, she handed the page back to Gil.

“I just don’t know enough about it. I’m sorry,” Judy said disappointed.

“It’s okay. Cam should be back with Barry soon, so you’ll have help inside. I think I may be stuck out here all day,” Gil said, turning his attention back to the still.

Judy moved over to Gil and hugged him. “Don’t worry. I’m sure you will get it with the next one.”

Gil, sadly, did not share Judy’s enthusiasm. Moving over to the still, he opened the spigot fully and poured the remaining liquid into jars. Promptly, he dumped each of them out at the side of the fence. Gil had figured it would take a couple of tries, but the quality of the first batch discouraged him.

With the first batch all poured out, Gil gathered what he needed for the next one. Judy went back inside, and Gil sat down on the steps to determine what had gone wrong. Bread yeast and brewer’s yeast were not directly interchangeable. Grabbing the paper he had written the formula on, Gil quickly changed the amounts of several ingredients.

“How is it going?” Cam asked upon his return.

“Terrible,” Gil replied, not looking up at his brother.

“That bad?” Cam said, mildly amused Gil was failing at something.

“This is going to be harder than I thought,” Gil said.

“You’ll get it. You always do.”

“Maybe?” Gil said, making a last-minute change to the recipe. “I don’t think this one is going to be easy.”

It was early afternoon when Gil started on his second batch. It took about three hours to run the still, so he could only do two runs a day. Mixing in all the items he needed, he lit the fire once more.

Gil sighed; the whole process took a lot more trial and error than he had expected. As the second batch had just started, Gil wanted to go inside to check how things were going. Motioning Cam over to him, he explained how to watch the alcohol still.

“Over here at the end of the coil is where the liquid will eventually come out,” Gil said.

Cam nodded his head, following along. “Do you have to add more logs?”

“No, you shouldn’t need to. Once the machine starts to thump, it means it’s boiling inside. turning the liquid to steam,” Gil said, looking over at Cam to see if he understood.

Cam surprisingly seemed to be paying close attention, so Gil continued. “All you need to watch is that the steam pressure doesn’t build up too much and that the jar doesn’t get too full. The steam’s the important thing, as it could explode.”

“Explode?” Cam asked, suddenly not sure he wanted the job being offered.

“That’s highly unlikely. So long as you don’t add any more wood to the fire or add in more liquid,” Gil said. As Cam nodded, Gil continued. “I’m just going to pop into the bakery to see how they are doing. If you need anything, I’ll be just inside.”

“Ok,” Cam said reluctantly, due to Gil’s use of the word explode.

Gil went inside, and he could immediately tell they were at a busy point. Pitching in to help, Gil grabbed a bag and moved over to Judy. Barry was in the back getting another batch of bread ready to sell.

Chapter 20: Free Samples

Gil must have lost track of time, as eventually Cam came inside and said the first jar was almost full. Following his brother back outside, Gil could see the first jar was overflowing. Moving over that way, he grabbed it and replaced it with an empty one. Moving over to the side, he dumped the jar out by the fence.

“What did you do that for?” Cam asked.

“You have to dump out the first part as its alcohol content is too high. Makes it poisonous to drink,” Gil said. “Mostly, you want the middle jars. As they will be a good sampling of the batch.”

“Poison?” Cam asked, surprised.

There was a lot more to making alcohol than Cam had realized. Things could explode, and if you messed up, it could become poison. Shaking his head back and forth, Cam eventually shrugged. Having gotten used to Gil’s knowledge about everything being more than his own, he had to wonder how his brother knew all he did.

As the jars filled up, Gil dumped them into one of the barrels. After trying the second batch, he found it was also off, so he eventually decided to discard it. Already afternoon, all Gil had to show for his effort was two bad batches of alcohol.

The second run, while it had been drinkable, just wasn’t good. Scratching his head, Gil knew more adjustments had to be made to the recipe. Taking the paper out, Gil made some changes.

In theory, everything Gil was doing should have been working, but the results were not what he wanted. Maybe it’s not the amount of the ingredients but how I combined them. Judy and Barry, having finished up for the day, made their way out. Seeing that his workers were ready to leave, Gil knew whatever changes he wanted to make would have to wait for another day.

“Well, how did it go?” Barry asked.

“Not very well,” Cam said. “Gil had to toss out what he made.”

“We were busy inside,” Judy said.

“We are always busy. It makes the day go by fast,” Barry added.

As the group made their way back home, Gil couldn’t help but feel like he had been defeated. Dropping the Holms’ kids off, Gil and Cam rode towards the cabin. Gil was running the recipes he had tried through his mind, working on making them better.

“You’ll get it,” Cam encouraged, seeing Gil was upset at what he had accomplished.

“Yea, eventually,” Gil said.

That night, all Gil could think about was what he had done wrong. Seeing his youngest moping about, William tried his best to cheer him up. However, not knowing the root cause of the problem made it hard to fix.

Fortunately for Cam, his services were not required at the bakery the following day, so after saddling Pip, he got to go back to sleep for a while. Gil set out to pick up Judy. As usual, she was ready when he reached the house.

“Good morning,” Gil greeted.

“Today’s the day. I can just feel it,” Judy said.

“What?” Gil asked.

“Today, you are going to get your recipe right.” Judy smiled.

“I hope you're right,” Gil said.

Arriving at the bakery, the two parted ways. Judy went inside to start the morning tasks while Gil gathered the items he needed to work with the still. Changing how he mixed up the ingredients, Gil left the yeast out to activate before adding it to the heat. Gil thought that it might survive longer and help make a drinkable batch. It was just beginning to heat up when Cam arrived with Barry.

“Are you going to need me today?” Cam asked.

“I don’t think so. Though could you set the barrels over by the still? I’m hoping to fill them,” Gil said. “Barry, you can go on in. Your sister probably has work for you.”

“Sure thing,” Cam said, moving the empty barrels closer.

The alcohol still was not yet producing any liquid, but it was making some noise. Cam moved over next to Gil to watch it. Once he leaves, I’ll be stuck outside here. Maybe I should have him stay for a little longer.

“Hey, Cam, can you watch this for a moment? While I go in and help Judy,” Gil said. “It should all be correct, so just watch for some liquid.”

“Sure thing.”

Once inside, Gil washed his hands and joined Judy working on a batch of sweet loaves. Waiting for the rolls to rise, they loaded the pans with the regular dough. Barry was running the oven.

Sliding in the loaf pans, the oven was soon packed, and there was nothing to do but wait. Gil took that opportunity to go back out and see if the still had made any whiskey. The first drop of liquid was almost ready to fall, and moving over by Cam, Gil patted him on the back.

The boys watched as the jar slowly filled up. When it was almost complete, Cam took it and dumped it out.

“I think you got it,” Gil said approvingly.

“Well, I don’t want to poison anyone,” Cam said.

Gil smiled. The next jar filled faster, and they dumped it into one of the barrels. When about four jars had been run, Gil took one of them and drank some. A slight smile crossed his face.

“It’s good!” Gil said.

“We get to keep this batch?” Cam asked.

“Yea, not perfect, but it’s not bad either,” Gil said. “I think I can tweak this to make something usable.”

“What does it taste like?” Cam asked.

Gil looked at his older brother, contemplating if he should let him taste it or not. I was about his age when I got my first sip of alcohol. Plus, he’s almost the size of an adult, so a sip shouldn’t hurt him.

“Here, try this,” Gil finally said, holding the jar out to Cam.

“I haven’t ever had any,” Cam said. “So I don’t know what it’s supposed to taste like.”

“Don’t worry,” Gil replied. “Most people don’t like their first taste.”

The liquid Gil had made was something close to the whiskey he envisioned. While it was rough, it was much better than his first two attempts. That was a huge relief and meant an alcohol business was possible.

“It’s still warm,” Cam said. “It kind of has a bitter aftertaste.”

“I know. When we get done, though, the final product is going to be even better!” Gil told him. “That aftertaste is a good way to tell good alcohol from bad. The smoother it is, the better quality it is.”

Cam wasn’t sure if the whiskey he had just had was good or not. Having never had any before, it was all a mystery to him. Raising the glass back up to his lips, he took another drink and swished it around in his mouth.

“Let’s fill up the barrels,” Gil said.

“Ok,” Cam said, taking the next jar and dumping it into one of the full-size barrels.

With Cam’s help, the batch they ran was packed up. It was the first run Gil hadn’t tossed out, and instead of wasting it, he thought of Jonas. Seeing Gil had everything under control, Cam reluctantly left, taking Pip back to the house.

Gil prepared a similar batch for the next barrel, making some minor changes to the recipe. The barrels would be a way to thank Jonas for all the work he had put in. Besides, it wasn’t in Gil’s nature to be wasteful. Whether he kept the batch or not, it cost him the same.

Setting up for the next batch, Gil went inside before starting it. Barry and Judy were busy as usual, and Gil, feeling better, took the time to greet some customers. Seeing Gil’s mood had changed, Judy took the opportunity to sneak a kiss on his cheek.

“What was that for?” Gil asked.

“Do I need a reason to kiss my future husband?” Judy asked.

“Not that again,” Gil groaned playfully.

“Hey, you two, how about less kissing and more helping the customers,” Barry said, getting in on the fun.

“Those loaves, are they done yet?” Judy asked.

“Not yet, but it won’t be long,” Barry said, peering into the oven.

“I’ll help at the table,” Gil said, moving back into the kitchen area.

Barry took the pans out carefully, one by one, and placed them on the table to cool. After waiting a few minutes, he used a towel and flipped them over on it. Barry, sticking his head back in the oven, pulled out another.

“Wow, did we need another double batch?” Gil asked.

“I’ve been telling you. We have been really busy,” Barry replied.

“How long will more cinnamon rolls be?” Judy asked from the front.

“We have a couple cooling right now,” Barry said.

Gil moved over that way and prepared one for sale. After a few minutes, the rush died down, and Gil took that opportunity to go back outside. Catching his breath, he could see that the bakery was a much larger business than it had been.

After starting another run of alcohol, Gil made sure to let the yeast activate before adding it in. That seemed to be the secret to making the whiskey smoother. Watching the process take place, Gil sat down and waited.

A couple of hours later, Gil had filled up the full-size barrels and started on the smaller one. As the batch finished, Gil saw he wouldn’t be able to fill the little one all the way. Gil put lids on the barrels and used a mallet to hammer them down into place.

By that time, it was early afternoon, and Gil went back into the bakery to help Judy and Barry clean up. Business at the bakery had been doing well, and looking over the glass case, Gil could tell they had sold out of sweet loaves and cinnamon rolls. I’ll make my money back and get a return on the bakery at this rate.

“You both did a good job today,” Gil said. “So we’re closing early.”

“We do a good job every day,” Barry stated.

“The sweet items are selling well,” Judy added. “We need to make sure now that you're making alcohol that we get more sugar next time the supplier comes by.”

Gil nodded. Judy was always like that, thinking about business and what they would need. She was, in many ways, the perfect manager for the bakery. Moving over to the front door, Gil locked it. With the possibility of running two businesses, everything seemed to be going well.

“If you want to take off, I will have Cam take you home as soon as he gets here. It’s the least I can do as I haven’t been much help inside today.”

“Sounds good to me,” Barry said.

Judy frowned. Barry had answered before she had gotten a chance to speak. It was a kind offer, but she enjoyed spending time with Gil. Thinking it over, Judy decided not to go home with Barry. Grabbing the broom, she began to sweep.

“No, I’ll stay. I know you have been busy outside working,” Judy said.

Hearing some noise out back, Gil stuck his head out. Cam was there, sitting on Pip. Stepping outside, Gil looked over at his brother.

“I need you to take Barry home,” Gil said. “Then we have a side trip to the Metal Worker’s Guild.”

“Ok, sounds good,” Cam said.

Barry and Cam rode off on Pip as Gil went back inside to help Judy. The two of them alone in the bakery made Gil remember when he had first hired Judy. I thought it was going to take me two years to return my investment in the bakery. Judy and Barry are the reason it’s doing so well.

“Your brother was a good addition to the team.”

“Yes, once you get him away from the jerk, he’s a good kid,” Judy said.

“I think sometimes you guys are a little hard on Tom,” Gil said.

“Really? You’re the one whose face got pounded in by him.”

“Yea, it’s just, he’ll grow out of it.”

“Unlikely,” Judy said.

Gil took a cloth nearby and began to wipe down the counters. When the bakery was spotless and ready for the next day, they both headed outside. Cam was there waiting, having already hooked up the wagon and loaded the barrels.

“We have a stop before we take you home,” Gil said.

“Really? Where?” Judy asked.

“The Metal Worker’s Guild,” Gil answered. “I promised the dwarves a sample of my alcohol for helping me with the still.”

“Dwarves?” Judy asked. “I don’t know much about them. Father says they are very short.”

“They are about my height,” Gil responded. “I find them to be much more direct than humans.”

Gil and Judy rode Pip while Cam sat in the wagon with the barrels. It wasn’t far from the bakery, but it was a location Judy had never seen before. Stopping just outside the building, they waited.

“Back again?” Jonas asked, stepping outside to greet them. “What do you need this time?”

Judy watched as Jonas came over to the wagon with some amusement. Seeing a dwarf for the first time, she wasn’t sure what to make of them. They looked like short, stocky humans.

“I have a surprise for you. Cam, go ahead and move the barrels except for that little one,” Gil instructed.

As Cam took a barrel and pushed it to the wagon’s rear, Jonas, seeing what the boy was doing, climbed up to help. The smaller barrel they were keeping was the final recipe Gil had perfected, and it was meant for William only. Cam grabbed the second barrel, and with Jonas’ help, placed it at the end of the wagon next to the first.

Seeing Jonas and Cam next to each other, the contrast was unmistakable. Cam was at least a foot taller. When everything that was supposed to be moved was, Gil could see the look of thanks written on the dwarf’s face at the gift.

“I know I said it, but I didn’t expect it. I’ll go in and tell the boys,” Jonas said. “Too bad Digby’s not here. He likes a good drink.”

“Who’s Digby?” Gil asked.

“He’s the one who runs the guild here,” Jonas responded. “Huge man, that one, kind as can be, though.”

“There should be enough for several. It’s not quite the final product, but it’s close.”

“Of course. It’s free, and that’s all that matters,” Jonas said.

Jonas moved back over into the building. Gil scratched his chin and looked at Cam and Judy. The late afternoon sun shone down on the trio as they waited.

“So, that’s a dwarf?” Judy asked.

“Yep, that’s Jonas. Without his help, we wouldn’t be in the alcohol business,” Gil said.

“How many people do you think he’s getting?” Cam asked.

Judy opened her mouth like she was about to say something and then seemed to think better and closed it. A trickle of workers began to emerge from the building’s door. They were a strange group, as some were dwarves and others were humans.

The trio watched, and soon, a line had formed in front of the wagon. Gil counted ten workers in total, waiting for a sample. Every person in the line carried their own wooden mug. Cam moved over to the first barrel and, turning the spigot, he began to fill up their glasses.

With Gil’s help, Judy poured out samples from the second barrel for the workers. When everyone had a glass of the yellow liquid, Jonas was the first to take a sip, letting the whiskey set a moment in his mouth before he swallowed it.

Lifting the mug higher, Jonas quickly finished it and got back in line for more. As the rest of the group drank, a chant of thanks rose from the workers. The kids watched while gleeful sounds and happy faces came over the crowd.

Grober’s watered-down ale was all the men had been able to get a hold of in Brighton for some time. So the entire group warmly welcomed Gil’s failed recipe. A couple of the dwarves even danced around as they drank, smashing their tankards together.

“I think they like it,” Gil said.

“I would say so.” Judy smiled.

“We are going to run out pretty quick,” Cam said, slapping the second barrel, trying to determine how much was left in it.

“How many places in town sell alcohol?” Gil asked.

“Oh, there are only three in the village,” Jonas said. “They all serve the same kind, though: Grober’s. You the misses and your brother are not going to have any?”

“No, I had some while making it,” Gil said, realizing Jonas’ offer probably meant there was no actual drinking age.

Cam and Judy both shook their heads. Judy knew her father didn’t want her drinking any, and Cam wasn’t sure yet if he liked alcohol. All three of them watched the people around them drink, laugh, and carry on.

“What are the places in the village that sell alcohol?” Gil asked.

“Well, the adventurer’s guild is probably the place for the best brews,” Jonas replied. “But you have to be an adventurer to use the bar area.”

“I see,” Gil said.

“That leaves the likes of us out,” Jonas said with a frown. “There’s also a pub called ‘The Hungry Traveler.’ It’s a little pricey, but the atmosphere is quiet and safe.”

“So, do you go there?” Gil asked.

“Mother and Father sometimes go there,” Judy added. “When they go for a night out.”

“Oh, and there’s always ‘The Darkroot Tavern.’ That’s Grober’s place, where he makes that swill he calls ale, in the basement. It’s a rough spot, not a place I would recommend,” Jonas said.

“Yea, lots of fights, and that sort of thing,” a nearby dwarf added, overhearing the conversation.

“That ale he sells is hardly drinkable. I think I would rather drink the fuel in a lantern than that stuff,” another said.

“Of course, it’s the only alcohol around here,” Jonas said with a frown.

“Not anymore,” Judy said.

“Ya, you’re right about that little miss. If this is the rejected whiskey, then I can’t wait to try the final recipe.”

Gil wasn’t sure if they were upselling it because he was there or if they were being honest about the quality. Either way, he took note of it as positive feedback and that it probably meant he was on the right track with his recipe. The Darkroot Tavern is the last place I want to sell my whiskey.

Gil’s last barrel for the metal workers was soon empty. That left only the small one untouched. The dwarves were good at drinking large amounts, as they had quickly finished off both barrels.

“I guess it’s back to work for me,” one of the dwarves said.

“It was good while it lasted,” another said.

Soon, only Jonas and the kids were left outside. The information Gil had gained from the goodwill was worth it, especially for something he would have just tossed out. On their ride home, Gil pondered all the metal workers had told him.

Chapter 21: Gil’s Proposal

Arriving back home, Cam unhitched the wagon and put Pip in the barn. Cam brought in the half barrel of alcohol. Gil found a suitable place out of the way in the kitchen and then motioned to it, so Cam could set the barrel down.

“Thank you, Cam,” Gil said. “We made good time getting home today, and I think we should start our chores. It might help smooth things over with Father.”

Cam nodded. “Okay, I’ll start back then.”

“I’ll get some supper ready,” Gil said, moving over by the stove.

William wasn’t around, which meant he was probably behind the cabin. With just the two of them inside, it was a good time to talk to Cam. Gil looked over at his older brother.

“Hey, if everything goes well, with Father. I might need you regularly,” Gil said.

“Got more stuff needing to be carried?” Cam asked, half-joking.

“Well, I will if I convince him to help,” Gil said. “It would be moving those barrels, full and empty. Like a regular job.”

“What?” Cam asked, confused. “We need Father’s help, for that?”

“Yeah, I don’t think anyone will take us seriously, just being kids and all,” Gil said. “I want the word to spread about my new alcohol business.”

“Won’t word just spread if you make good alcohol?” Cam asked.

“I don’t think that’s enough. While it works for the bakery, I don’t see full-grown men lining up to buy whiskey from a kid,” Gil said. I don’t want to be running a lemonade stand that sells alcohol.

Gil had to come up with a way to convince William that being the face of his new business was a good idea. How to accomplish it was something Gil had thought about. What lay before him was going to be a challenging task.

Having pieced together some of William’s past, Gil knew that he was not just an average adventurer. William was a dragonslayer. Gil didn’t know what that entirely meant, but it was clear that it set him apart.

William also presented a way to get Gil’s alcohol business into the Adventurer’s Guild. In Gil’s mind, the perfect plan needed just the right time. That meant waiting and watching. Having everything finished before asking William was just the first step.

Gil had to persuade William, so he couldn’t say no. Meaning, he had to figure out William’s weakness. Most people could be tempted with money or fame. I’m not sure William is interested in those things.
What would he want or need? Then it struck Gil that he already knew the answer. William always wanted his boys to succeed in life. That would be his negotiation angle.

Gil was no better than William when it came to family. If Cam ever needed anything, Gil would do everything to help him. It was the same way with William. Taking a deep breath, Gil was confident it would work.

“Cam, place that wood over by the table,” William said, coming in the back door. “I’m glad you boys came home earlier today.”

“Gil closed the bakery a little early,” Cam said.

“Had a really good day and ran out of loaves to sell,” Gil said, looking over at them.

“Has it been that busy?” William asked.

“We are doing about five times the amount of business Mrs. Olden did,” Gil replied.

Cam had placed the barrel of whiskey in the kitchen corner, just like Gil had instructed him to. William spotted it as soon as he looked in the kitchen. While it was strange, he didn’t mention anything about it. Ever since Gil had bought the bakery items from it had started showing up regularly. Therefore, William had figured they were storing some extra flour or something like that.

The night passed as usual, and everyone enjoyed the meal Gil had made. Gil tried to judge William’s mood to see if it was the right time to ask him. Though not angry or upset, William wasn’t in the perfect frame of mind yet.

With Cam’s help, Pip was saddled the following day, and the cart was attached. Gil picked up Judy as usual and returned to the bakery with the empty barrels. As Judy went inside, Gil started another batch of alcohol.

When Cam and Barry arrived sometime later, Gil had Cam unload the empty barrels and place them to the side of the still. Using the mallet, Cam quickly popped the tops off them and helped Gil fill them up.

With the barrels full, there was nothing left for Gil to do with the still. Cam returned to the cabin, and Gil went inside to help out. Several days passed until a specific evening arrived, and Gil could see that William was in a good mood.

Gil wasn’t sure what had caused William’s mood, but he knew the time to act had arrived. Just as the boys had most evenings, they started on their chores. Once dinner was on the table, Gil watched and waited for the right time to start the conversation.

“So, I think it would be impossible for my new business to succeed without a familiar name behind it,” Gil began, finding his opening.

“Is that so,” William said. “The bakery? I thought things were going well.”

“No, not the bakery. It’s fine. I’ve been experimenting with making some alcohol.”

“Ale?” William asked, choking on the word. “You made alcohol?”

“No, it’s a whiskey,” Gil said.

William’s mood seemed to change all at once. Alcohol for William was a complicated thing. Having grown up with an alcoholic father, William had seen its darker side. Only after becoming an adventurer did he see any redeeming qualities for it.

“Yes, I saw it was popular that night we went to the festival,” Gil added.

“Oh, yes. I suppose it was,” William said. “Alcohol, in general, is not something someone just decides to go into. How did you come up with the ability to make it?”

“The bakery gave me the items I needed,” Gil said. “Using some bread yeast, I was able to ferment it and make a nice whiskey.”

The idea that Gil was able to make alcohol left William almost speechless. Running a still required a recipe and a lot of physical labor. William, looking over at Gil, didn’t think the boy was capable of such work. Shaking his head back and forth, William thought over what he should say.

“Don’t you think you’re a little young to be making alcohol?” William finally asked.

“There doesn’t seem to be an age requirement,” Gil responded.

“Well, no, not exactly, but… children don’t drink it, or shouldn’t,” William said. “I wish you would have told me before you started such a project. Alcohol stills can be incredibly dangerous. That thing could have exploded and killed you both.”

“I had the work done by the dwarves at the Metal Worker’s Guild,” Gil said, trying to alleviate William’s fears about the equipment.

“Dwarves?” William said, pausing. “That makes sense. Dwarves are big drinkers, and they would know everything there is to know about making alcohol.”

William let the information sink in before proceeding with the conversation. With a slight sigh, he looked over Gil again. The little boy, from a glance, looked innocent and sweet, but under his childish facade was a businessman who seemed to be able to do anything and have no limits.

“How do you even know what good alcohol tastes like?” William asked, thinking it might be better to take the conversation in that direction.

That was a valid point and something Gil hadn’t thought of a good answer for. It was Gil’s turn to think about what to say. Though not something he usually did, lying seemed to be the best answer.

“At the harvest festival, I was able to sneak some,” Gil said.

“The festival?” William thought back to that night. Unfortunately for him, the only thing he could focus on from that evening was what Mr. Holms had said. William couldn’t remember anything about if Gil was acting strange or not.

The lie worked. Gil knew the best way to follow up something like that would be to change William’s focus. Cam being in the same house was an easy target. Throwing his brother under the proverbial bus was less than ideal, but it had to be done.

“Cam’s tried it too,” Gil said.

“What? Cam!” William shouted.

The focus shifted to Cam and seemed to shift William’s view of dealing with the problem. When it had just been Gil, it had been much more of a conversation. With Cam involved, it became more of a disciplinary action.

At the mention of his name so loudly, Cam, who had been eating quietly, looked up. Seeing his father’s expression, he wasn’t sure what to make of it. Had Cam been paying more attention, he would have heard Gil’s last comment; however, he hadn’t.

“Did you drink ale at the harvest festival too?” William asked, looking over at the oldest boy.

“No, not at the harvest festival. Gil gave me some a few days ago.” Cam looked down at his food.

At first, Gil had felt terrible for having ratted him out. However, Cam had just done the same to him. The focus was now back on Gil, and he had to come up with something fast. The conversation was spinning out of his control.

“Gil,” William said, turning his attention back to his youngest. “I am incredibly disappointed in your actions.”

“But it’s good whiskey,” Gil protested.

“It doesn’t matter. Alcohol is dangerous. It’s dangerous to make, it’s dangerous to drink, and it’s dangerous to sell,” William said sternly. “I don’t know what possessed you, but kids can’t sell alcohol, it’s a ridiculous idea, and you put both your lives in danger.”

“It’s only dangerous to make if you don’t have the proper equipment, which I do. It’s only dangerous to drink if you drink too much. And I don’t understand how it’s dangerous to sell,” Gil said.

“What if your equipment breaks?” William asked. “Even proper equipment can break down and become dangerous.

“Things do break down; that’s a fact of life. Equipment, though, can always be replaced,” Gil said.

“Yes, but how will you know when it needs to be replaced? As soon as a piece of it breaks and you light it, it could be too late.”

“Before brewing, you run simple checks to make sure your lines are leak-proof, and the equipment is solid. I made a checklist for that. This is a business, after all,” Gil said.

William nodded. Content with Gil’s response; he turned his attention to Cam. “How much can you safely drink?”

“I’m not sure I like it,” Cam said. “I’ve only had a couple of sips.”

“That’s not what I asked,” William said, with a sigh. “Do you know how much of it you can drink?”

“I think what you’re asking is based on the size of the individual drinking it. At least for humans,” Gil said.

“Gil is correct, but sometimes it affects people differently,” William said and then turned back to Gil. “Where did you learn that? Where did you learn any of this?”

“It’s just something I know,” Gil said. “Like the saddle.”

Gil’s answer wasn’t what William wanted. Looking over the boy, though, it was apparent he wouldn’t get more, at least not right away. William scratched the back of his head.

Not sure how to respond, William said, “I don’t want you two drinking. You’re still too young.”

“It’s not like we’re making it for ourselves. I want to sell it,” Gil replied. “This is all a business.”

“Selling is still dangerous too,” William said, his tone growing louder. Taking a deep breath, he calmed himself before continuing. “Alcohol generates a lot of money, which can cause trouble. Not only does it deal with all sorts, including criminals, but it can also get you in trouble with competitors.”

“You enter a business to make money. You say we shouldn’t want magic things or other items we can’t afford. But now that I have a way to get them, I can’t? Which is it? Should I strive for success or only as much success as I’m allowed?” Gil asked.

William sighed, exhausted from arguing with his youngest. It was challenging to deal with Gil because he wasn’t throwing a tantrum like a child; he had valid points. However, William couldn’t help but feel what he was trying to convey was getting lost somehow.

“I need some time to think this over. For now, both of you go to your room. We’ll continue this conversation later.”

Cam filled his mouth with the last food on his plate and stood up. On the other hand, Gil was debating if he should leave. Part of him wanted to stay at the table until the conversation was over, but he thought better of it.

After the boys went to their room, Cam was confused, unsure why he was in trouble. Gil wondered if there was something else he should have said, feeling William had blown everything out of proportion. Alcohol can be dangerous, but I know what I’m doing.

“What was Father so mad about?” Cam asked.

“He’s not mad at you; he’s upset that I made alcohol,” Gil said. “If I had to guess, I would say he’s had a bad experience with alcohol.”

“The dwarves sure seemed to like it,” Cam said.

Gil sighed. “He just thinks we’re too young. That’s why we need him.”

“But you run the bakery,” Cam said.

“Bread and alcohol are different to adults.” Gil shrugged. “It’s amazing how close they really are and yet are viewed so differently.”

Cam sighed, still not sure why he was in trouble. About thirty minutes passed before a knock sounded on the bedroom door. Gil and Cam both looked at each other; usually, a lot more time would go by before William was ready to talk again.

“Gil, will you come out, please? I’m ready to talk about this,” William said.

“I gotta go get yelled at some more,” Gil said to his brother, getting up off his bed.

“Good luck.”

Chapter 22: William’s Whiskey

Gil stepped out of the bedroom and closed the door behind him. William was standing in the hall. Seeing Gil, he began to move back over to the table. Gil followed William, sitting down in the chair across from him.

“I don’t want to discourage you from pursuing your dreams. I would never want to do that with either of you boys. But sometimes Gil.” William paused, staring at the young boy. “Sometimes, you worry me. I don’t know what I would do if I ever lost either of you, and when you do things like this without talking to me first. Well, what am I supposed to think?”

“That we’re growing up. You raised both of us to be independent. Sometimes I take it too far,” Gil said. “Maybe I should have told you about it before.”

William nodded in response. “I don’t know about selling alcohol, but I’m willing to listen to your plan.”

“I have an alcohol still, and I need your help. A lot of what you said is true, and without you, I don’t think I would be able to sell any.”

“Well, how do you plan to sell it? The bakery is small,” William said. “Are you thinking of buying another location?”

“No, nothing like that. I was thinking about selling it to the Adventurer’s Guild. The still I have is smaller, so I can only make so much,” Gil said. “Besides, I don’t think there are a lot of people who want to buy alcohol from a kid.”

“The Adventurer’s Guild? So you wouldn’t be dealing with the customers directly?” William asked, relieved.

“No, I don’t think that would be a very good idea. I think selling it to someone else who deals with the customers would be better,” Gil said. “I can’t physically toss out drunks or stop people from stealing.”

William laughed. “Well, that is something we can both agree on.”

Gil could see that William’s entire attitude had changed. Apparently, he had thought Gil was going to open a bar. With that clarified, maybe things can move forward.

“Do you want to try it?”

“Where is this whiskey of yours?” William asked.

“I have a small barrel here at the house,” Gil said. “I would like your opinion on it.”

Connecting the dots, William realized that the barrel in the kitchen was alcohol. Standing up, he went into the kitchen and picked up the barrel. Coming back over to the table, he placed it down. Looking it over, William popped the cork out of the hole at the top, as it didn’t have a fixture like the larger barrels.

“Well, get me a glass,” William said, sticking his nose up to the open hole.

Gil stood up, got his father a glass, and brought it over the table. William held the small keg up and poured directly from the hole. A little of the golden brown whiskey spilled out on the table.

“So, is it any good?” William asked, looking at the glass he had poured in front of him.

“I think so,” Gil said with a slight shrug. “The dwarves seemed to like it.”

William was hoping the whiskey was terrible to put an end to Gil’s silliness. Knowing Gil, though, he had his doubts that would be the case. The dwarves, having tried and liked it, also made William anticipate that it might be halfway decent.

“The dwarves liked it,” William said again, primarily to himself.

Raising the glass to his lips, William sipped the clear yellow liquid. Right away, he could tell it was better than most. Taking another sip, William let the flavor sit in his mouth before swallowing.

“So you want someone to be the face of this business?” William asked.

“Well… yes, I need you,” Gil said. “I’ve invested some money into the business already.”

Gil had never requested much of William as a father, and he hated to say no. Hearing the words ‘I need you’ made him look down at the table for a while. Twisting the glass around, he took another drink. William, who had been thinking about whether he should dispense punishments for the boys and be done with it, was no longer sure.

A lingering fear at the back of William’s mind said punishments might alienate him from his youngest. Sighing, he took another drink. William was much older than he had been when adventuring, and it was not unusual for successful adventurers to profit off their names.

Some even sold their names to weapon or armor makers, while others opened up eateries or other businesses. It was a fairly common practice, and William had even thought about doing it when the boys were older. Yet, there he was, the boys had gotten older, and he was still running away from his past.

Breathing in deeply, William looked over at Gil. “So you want me, as a former adventurer, to be the face of your alcohol business?”

“Exactly,” Gil said. “It would also make you some money, as I wouldn’t expect you to do it for free. I was thinking about giving you thirty percent ownership of the entire alcohol business.”

“Is that so?” William asked, scratching his chin.

Alcohol was big business in the kingdom. Thirty percent could amount to a lot in the future. It wasn’t that William needed the funds, but he was practical and knew the money would help as he got older.

“All you would have to do is be the salesperson,” Gil added. “I make the whiskey, and Cam can deliver it. It would be a family business.”

The words ‘a family business’ were ones Gil had rehearsed. The entire sales pitch he was giving focused on that. Knowing William cared so much for the boys, it would only be natural that he wanted them to be together as much as possible.

Gil seemed to have everything figured out, even down to the amount he was willing to give William for his help. It was a lot to take in, but then Gil had a head for business. After all, his investment tip had been wise. William took another mouthful and thought over his boy’s words.

“It wouldn’t take much of your time, and I think it’s something you would be quite good at,” Gil said.

“So, you were thinking of selling this to the Adventurer’s Guild?” William asked.

“I think it would do well there,” Gil said. “After talking to some people.”

“What people?” William asked suspiciously.

“The dwarves at the Metal Worker’s Guild,” Gil said.

Having seen dwarves drink a bar dry more than a time or two during his adventuring days, William smiled. Mulling over what Gil was saying, he nodded slightly. The decision he was about to make was not an easy one. William, who had hidden his past, would be forced to face it directly in the spotlight.

“So I would be selling your whiskey, huh?” William said, almost to himself.

Gil smiled. The fact that William had said such a thing meant it had gotten through to him, and the answer would likely be yes. William looked at his boy: Gil needed him. Everything Gil touched seemed to in some way be successful, so he figured he would take a chance, nodding.

Holding his glass up to his nose, William breathed in the aroma. The smell had a slight scent of oil and yeast with a pinch of sweetness. Taking another drink, he smiled.

The whiskey was surprisingly good, a little milder than most. It was just what one expected from a decent brew. Overall, it was some of the best whiskey William had ever had, and being an adventurer, he had his share of alcohol in the past.

“Will you be able to replicate this batch?” William asked. “Every single one will need to be this quality. That’s important with a product like this.”

“That’s the easy part,” Gil said. “I wrote the recipe down. Every batch should be the same, almost identical.”

A good whiskey, with consistent quality, like the one sitting before William, would be worth a lot. What Gil was proposing had the chance to be a lifelong business. William’s expression eased, thinking over the offer, and a slight smile formed on his lips.

“The Adventurer’s Guild seems just the right size, as I’m limited on how much I can make right now,” Gil said.

“It might be. Adventurers are known to drink some,” William said with a slight smile. “But why do you want to go to the Adventurer’s Guild?”

“The setup I have can only make small batches. So it would be a side business to the bakery,” Gil said. “You were once an adventurer, so I think that makes sense as well. Add in the fact that of the places in Brighton that sell alcohol, they are the smallest.”

William grew silent for a moment as he thought over what Gil had just said. It was true he had been an adventurer, and he still had his ID stone. If William were going to become part of Gil’s business, it would mean giving up the anonymity he had enjoyed. Reaching out for his glass, William found it to be empty.

Nothing sells a product as well as a person who believes in that product. William had become a believer, confident he could sell the whiskey Gil made. The only alcohol William remembered being marginally better was elven wine, but it was so rare and expensive that only a couple of places in the entire kingdom sold it.

“How many barrels can you make in a week?” William asked.

“I’m not exactly sure, but probably about five to seven at most,” Gil replied, purposely keeping the estimate low.

“That’s not much,” William said with a frown. “If you had a factory, I think you might have a very valuable product on your hands. This is the sort of thing the entire kingdom might like.”

“Well, if the whiskey sells well at the Adventurer’s Guild, we could see about expanding. But before that we would need a factory,” Gil said.

Having tasted the whiskey, William knew the little barrel before him was more significant than Gil realized. High-quality alcohol demanded a premium across the kingdom. Filling his glass back up, William watched the foam form at the top.

“I know that,” William muttered. “I’ll need you to keep those barrels coming, though.”

“If we can get a standing order, then we’ll have a steady business,” Gil added.

Being used to teaching Cam how to sell, Gil, out of habit, was doing the same thing with William. The difference was that William didn’t need the help. Already skilled enough at the art of battering, Gil’s advice was a nuisance to him.

William couldn’t believe he had agreed to what he had. What he had drunk was already starting to affect him. William had never been a heavy drinker.

Gil’s plan to convince William to help sell his whiskey was successful. With the idea of selling five barrels a week going through his head, Gil smiled. William, having finished his glass, poured another. Gil happily watched his new partner fill his cup.

Chapter 23: A Forgotten Life

William considered himself retired from the life of an adventurer. That being the case, he saw no reason why he shouldn’t profit off of his name. Being perhaps the most famous adventurer in the kingdom, it was even expected of him.

William looked at Gil in bewilderment. The young boy had somehow cracked the code to an almost perfect whiskey. It was refreshing and lighter than alcohol William had tried before, which made it easier to consume.

“Is it expensive to make?” William asked.

“No, it’s a lot cheaper from a supply standpoint than the bakery,” Gil responded.

“So, how much of this do you have ready right now?” William asked.

“I have two barrels right now, and once my order comes in from the Carpenter’s Guild, I can produce a couple of barrels a day,” Gil said. “Maybe seven barrels a week, max? I’m not entirely sure. I would still need to help in the bakery, some.”

“I see,” William said. “We should aim for five to six barrels a week at first. Can I load up the two barrels and take them over to the Adventurer’s Guild in the morning?”

“I don’t see why not,” Gil replied with a shrug.

“Good, now you will need to keep a steady supply on hand,” William said. “If we get a customer, we will need to be reliable.”

“I know that,” Gil said proudly. “The business part I can handle.”

“Then tomorrow, I will go into town with you.”.

Gil found it hard to sleep. The plan he had created, though it hadn’t gone smoothly, was finally happening. Having had one glass too many of whiskey, William slept soundly that night. Cam, still somewhat confused by the night’s activities, slept as he usually did.

The following day, Gil discovered that he had to wake up William and Cam. Fortunately, William was a morning person, cheerful even with a slight headache. The same could not be said about Cam.

The entire family made the trip into the village, stopping to pick up Judy on the way. Reaching the back of the bakery, Gil moved over to the alcohol still and motioned William to him. William moved over that way.

Looking over the alcohol still, William could see the machine appeared to be solid. What he had envisioned and what he had been presented with were two different things. William ran his fingers through his hair, as the item’s quality relieved many of his fears.

“This is what I use to make the alcohol,” Gil said.

William nodded, “So with that, you can make us five barrels a week?”

“I should be able to easily. Cam put in an order for more barrels a few days ago, and they should be ready by now,” Gil said. “Cam, why don’t you go pick up those barrels.”

Cam nodded. “Ok, will do.”

Gil had started keeping the cart in the back of the bakery, finding himself needing it so often. Cam moved over and began to hook it up to Pip. William helped his oldest son get the wagon hitched. Soon, Cam was off, leaving Gil and William alone.

“All the ingredients go in here, and the fire heats it,” Gil said.

William nodded. “So those are the stones Cam was moving for you a few days back?”

“They are,” Gil replied.

To William, the way Gil was so confident with the still was a marvel to behold. It was almost like he had operated one many times before. While they waited for Cam to return, Gil took William into the bakery to show him around.

“Judy here has really helped out,” Gil said.

“Hey, Gil, we’re running a little low on flour. Do you know when the supplier will stop back by?” Judy asked.

“Danny should be by today, maybe tomorrow,” Gil said.

“Don’t forget to buy plenty of sugar,” Judy reminded.

William marveled at the inside of the shop. It was the first time since Gil had bought it that he had set foot in it, and he could tell that Gil had rearranged things within it to make them accessible. Gil washed up and helped Judy lay the dough into the loaf pans.

“Have you started the cinnamon rolls yet?” Gil asked.

“Starting them just now,” Judy said, mixing something up in a bowl.

“After we get those done, put one back for my father. I think he might like to try one,” Gil said.

“Will do.”

William was speechless. Seeing his young boy working in the bakery, it looked like Gil was in his element. Watching them work, William settled himself in a corner, out of the way.

“I think I hear Cam returning,” Gil said.

William moved over to the back door and opened it. Looking out, he could see Gil was right. Cam had returned with the other empty barrels. William stepped outside to help unload.

When the last item was off the cart, William loaded up the two full barrels and one smaller barrel. The smaller one, since William had drunk from it, the smaller one was only about a third full. Having finished up what he was doing inside, Gil stepped out and looked the empty ones over.

“They look good,” Gil said.

“These are all new. The carpenters just made them,” Cam replied.

William thumped on the side of the nearest wooden barrel. “Looks like we’re in business.”

“I’ll start another batch,” Gil said. “Cam can go meet Barry.”

“Hop on the back, Cam, and I’ll drop you off at the edge of town,” William said.

Cam moved over to the wagon and climbed up. William took Cam’s place on Pip’s back, and soon they were both out of view. Disappointment crossed Gil’s face as the reality that he wasn’t going to be able to make the deals himself sank in.

Judy stuck her head out of the bakery. “Hey, Gil, do you want me to start the oven?”

“That’s fine,” Gil responded.

After dropping off Cam, William stopped Pip in front of the Adventurer’s Guild. Tying the horse to the post, he moved to the back and grabbed the small barrel. The Adventurer’s Guild was one of the few buildings in the village William had never set foot in.

“I guess this is it,” William said, realizing what he was about to do.

Taking a deep breath, William readied himself for what waited inside. Tossing the small barrel over his shoulder, William moved to the door. Pressing hard against it, he bit his lower lip.

The door creaked as it opened, and William took a step inside. Around him, he saw several familiar sights, though he had never been in this branch of the Adventurer’s Guild before, they were all laid out roughly the same. The place was mostly empty of people, as it was still early in the day.

Letting out a sigh of relief, William moved over to the receptionist area and placed the barrel down on the counter. The woman behind it looked up at him and smiled. William was still getting used to the idea of where he was, so he looked back at her expressionless.

“Welcome to the Brighton branch of the Adventurer’s Guild. My name’s Olive. I haven’t seen you here before. Do you have an ID stone?”

“Oh, yea, I do,” William said, fishing it out of his pocket.

The ID stone was not a usual item William carried anymore, and he had almost forgotten it at the cabin. There was once a time in his life that little stone and he had been inseparable, but that had been years ago. William handed over the ID stone to Olive.

An Adventurer’s Guild ID was a flat stone stamped with an Adventurer’s Guild credentials. It contained all the information the guild would need to help an adventurer using magic. William looked at the stone in Olive’s hand.

“It’s been a while since I’ve used it,” William said with a slight shrug.

“That shouldn’t matter,” Olive replied. “These little things are good for a thousand years. This will just take a moment.”

Olive, a human female, was shorter than most and thin. Many would use the word ‘cute’ to describe her. The short black hair she had, parted to one side just above her bright brown eyes. Olive’s pleasant disposition was somewhat misleading, as she was used to dealing with boasting adventurers and troublemakers.

One didn’t run the counter of the adventurer’s guild and not have had to toss out someone when needed. While she wasn’t physically able to do such a thing herself, help was only a call away in the form of Malik. Every Adventurer’s Guild had a bouncer. They were often past adventurers themselves who had retired from the profession.

William’s appearance was far less scary than many people who entered the guild. Olive took the stone in her hand and placed it into a machine behind her. Flicking a switch on the device, it sprung to life and lit up. Soon, it began to make a series of sounds while a green light on top of it shone brightly.

“Well, you’re an adventurer,” Olive said with a smile.

“I guess I am,” William returned.

The machine started printing out a page of information. Usually, this was a short process, only printing a page or two on average. Olive reached over to snatch the pages from the machine. It sprang to life again, printing another page. Three pages, while unusual, were not unheard of.

“Looks like you have had quite the career,” Olive said.

Olive, thinking that was the end of the pages, reached out again. Just as before, the machine spit out another page, and then another. The device was up to five pages now and showed no sign of stopping.

“Um, it looks like you’ve really had quite the career,” Olive said, embarrassed by her actions.

“It was a long time ago,” William said, looking over at her.

While William had responded to Olive, he was deep in thought. Thinking about all the guilds he had visited and how many times he had waited for papers to print. Having been a much younger and more impatient man back in those days, he was now happy to wait for the device to finish.

In William’s case, the machine kept printing and printing. It stopped only after producing an unheard-of twelve pages of information. Olive looked over at the good-sized stack of paper nervously. As the machine had finally finished, she reached over and picked up the pages.

Hitting them down on the counter, she organized them in a single stack. Each page Olive scanned seemed to produce a different sound from her. Having never seen the machine print so many, she understood the person in front of her was not the typical adventurer the guild in Brighton received.

“William West,” Olive read aloud.

“That’s me,” William said with a grin.

It was only then that the name triggered Olive’s memory. Standing right before her was I Dragonslayer himself. Flipping through the information, Olive scanned the missions and abilities William had.

“The Dragon Slayer…” Olive stuttered as she said his title.

“You can just call me William,” William said.

Olive looked over at William in awe. William was by far the highest-ranked adventurer she had been around. Olive had never seen anything like the printout before her, having been the Adventurer's Guild receptionist for several years. While he didn’t look like much, William was in a league of his own.

“Looks like it still works,” William said.

“What brings you in...  today?” Olive asked, trying to compose herself.

William, getting straight to the point, said, “Well, I wanted to talk to your bar about some alcohol.”

“We may not be as big as some of the other guildhalls in the kingdom, but we do have a nice bar area and a great selection of equipment available,” Olive said, pointing over at the bar. “If you need any help with any of the services the guild provides, please ask.”

“I think just the bar will do for today,” William said, reaching down and grabbing the barrel. “You should come over that way if you’re not busy. I have some great whiskey to show the barkeep.”

Olive excitedly nodded her head and pointed. “George runs the bar. He’s somewhere over there.”

The bar was in the back of the building, taking up the entire far wall. It consisted of a large counter with several stools in front of it. A few tables were laid out in front of it, but only a single patron could be seen. They sat on one of the stools. Otherwise, the area appeared empty.

Chapter 24: Tasting

Repositioning the barrel onto his left shoulder, William headed over to the bar area. After a short walk, he reached the counter and set the barrel down. Looking around, William didn’t see anyone other than a man sleeping on one of the stools.

The noise William had made caused a heavy-set man to emerge from a door on the other side of the bar. William could see it was the bartender, who Olive had said was named George. Walking over in front of William, the man looked him over.

“What can I do for you?” George said, eyeing William strangely.

George, the bartender at the Adventurer’s Guild, had a bushy mustache and was partially bald at the top of his head. William couldn’t place his age but would guess him to be in his late fifties. Wearing a dirty apron over what would best be described as his everyday work clothes, it was apparent he was not one for style.

“Well, I have some whiskey I want you to try,” William said.

“You brought your own, huh? That’s a nice switch. I’m the one usually serving drinks around here.” George laughed at his joke far more than William did.

George moved down the bar where his only customer was sleeping. Hitting the other man on the head with a slap, George laughed. That had the effect of making the other man raise his chin up off the bar. William could see the man who had been hit was frowning.

“What did you go and do that for, George?” the man who had been sleeping asked, reaching up to the spot that had been slapped.

“Time to get up. We got us a sample of some alcohol to try out,” George said.

“Oh?” the man replied. Suddenly interested, he exchanged his frown for a smile. “You could have just said so, you know.”

“I just did,” George said. “Besides, it was time for you to stop sleeping. You need to get up, Hubert.”

“You didn’t have to hit me,” Hubert said.

Hubert, the man who had been sleeping, looked around and smiled, a somewhat toothless grin, seeing the barrel. He shook his body to wake up the rest of him. George grabbed two mugs from behind him sitting on a shelf and slid them over to William.

Hubert was the head of the Adventurer’s Guild in Brighton. Not that anyone would be able to tell from his appearance. Much like the bartender, Hubert was not into fancy clothes. The white hair atop his head showed that he was an older man.

“Here you go,” George said, holding a mug steady.

William popped the cork out of the top of the barrel and gently poured out some of the liquid into the glass. Once it was full, George slid the mug over to Hubert. Holding the empty glass steady, William filled it.

“You’re going to like this,” William said.

“I’ll be the judge of that.” Taking a big swallow of the whiskey, George smiled. “Hey, that’s not half bad. What do you call it?”

“I don’t have a name for it. But it’s good,” William said.

William wasn’t sure what to call the whiskey. Gil had never told him a name for it. That was a detail they had both overlooked. Olive had made her way over towards the bar, star-struck at William being in the guild. Seeing her, William pointed to the mugs and raised two fingers. The bartender obliged and put down two more cups on the counter.

“It is good,” Hubert remarked, having taken a drink from his mug. “Haven’t had anything like that in quite some time. Did you make this whiskey?”

“No,” William said, pausing and scratching the back of his neck. “I don’t know how.”

Hubert let out a sigh, thinking that meant the supply would be limited. That was always the way. Some adventurers would bring in something and want far more than it was worth, still, with the limited quantity of good alcohol around Brighton, Hubert might be interested if the price was right.

“My youngest boy made it,” William said.

Those words brought a massive smile to Hubert’s face. Raising his mug as high as possible, he finished the rest of the glass. Putting his cup down, Hubert patted his belly and laughed.

“You had me scared there. Why don’t you give me another glass, before we talk business? You get something this good, George, and you might never see the end of me around here,” Hubert said.

George took another drink. “We already never see the end of you. Sleeping all day.”

“Olive, you’ve got to try this. It’s good stuff,” Hubert said. “This quality only comes around every once in a while.

William filled the two new mugs up and handed one to Olive. Before drinking his own, he refilled Hubert’s and slid it back down to him. William could tell they were reaching the end of the half barrel. Grabbing his mug, William took a drink.

“Wow, it’s delicious,” Olive said, surprised.

“I’ll say, beats that stuff Grober makes by a lot,” George replied. “Of course, I suppose just about anything does.”

“I had some elven wine once that was better, but that stuff is rare and expensive,” William said.

Hubert looked over at William and wondered if his last comment was meant to raise the price. The whiskey was good, but Hubert wasn’t going to pay too much for it. The Adventurer’s Guild got a regular shipment from Clearfield once a week, and while it was not as good as the alcohol William had brought in, it was cheap.

Comparing any alcohol to elven wine was a huge compliment, and William meant it. The sweet, crisp alcohol was refreshing, and everyone around drank their fill. George looked over at William, studying the man.

“So you’re an adventurer?” George asked.

“Well, I was. Now I’m retired from that life,” William replied. “We all get older.”

“He’s not just any adventurer. He’s famous!” Olive said. “This here is William West, The Dragonslayer.”

“What?” George let out a little gasp. “You killed that beast?”

Hearing who William was, Hubert wondered why he hadn’t opened with that. Selling The Dragonslayer’s alcohol could be a big deal. That also meant he might have to adjust what he was willing to pay.

“My party did,” William said, looking down at the bar.

George looked over at William and could see from his expression that he didn’t want to talk about it. Turning his focus back on the whiskey in his glass with a slight shrug, George took another drink. Even Hubert, the head of the Adventurer’s Guild, was impressed by William’s presence. Normally, he kept his calm around famous adventurers, but William was far more than famous; he was a legend.

“Is that who you are?” Hubert looked over at William. “A name like yours could sell a lot of alcohol.”

“He is,” Olive said before William could respond. “I have the printout to prove it.”

“I suppose,” William said.

William strangely felt at home in the Adventurer’s Guild. Even being questioned wasn’t uncomfortable. It was a place where everyone could just be themselves.

Olive, who didn’t like a lot of the alcohol the guild sold, found what William was offering to be milder. Placing the cup back down, she looked over at Hubert and nodded. Hubert had already given it his approval, so the only one left to convince was George.

“Still need to know what to call it,” George said, holding his glass up and looking at it. “Good booze needs a good name. People don’t want to drink something called ‘yellow liquid’ when they could be drinking ‘lightning.’”

“Why not William’s Whiskey. Or even William The Dragonslayer’s Whiskey?” Olive asked. “Or just Dragonslayer?”

Everyone was drinking and chatting like old friends. It wasn’t a business meeting. It was an after-party. William didn’t know what to think. It was hard to imagine this was the life he had been so afraid of.

“William’s Whiskey,” Olive said. “That’s the name I would go with.”

“Ah, so that’s it? William’s Whiskey?” George said. “William’s Whiskey does have a nice ring to it.”

William had not intended to brand the whiskey directly with his name, but it was already done. Unable to think of any better name for it, William shrugged. The four of them enjoyed the rest of their mugs before they spoke again.

“William’s Whiskey does sound good,” Hubert said. “I’ll take another glass of William’s Whiskey.”

Hubert slid his mug back over to William. Tipping the barrel up, he filled it about two-thirds full. Sliding the glass back, Hubert looked at it with a sad expression.

“Empty already?” Hubert asked.

“Looks like we finished the rest of this one,” William said. “It wasn’t full to start with.”

“You do have more?” Hubert asked. “Right?”

“You had best slow down there, Hubert. If we’re going to be selling it,” George said.

“I do, outside. Those, however, are for sale,” William said.

“So, how many barrels of this can you get me?” George asked.

“I have two full-size barrels outside,” William replied. “I should be able to do five a week regularly.”

Hubert nodded and looked over at Olive with a squint. “So what’s this fine brew gonna cost us?”

Tasting and paying were entirely different things, and Hubert was the one who would be paying. Thinking about the alcohol he was holding, he expected a large number. Fine alcohol like that could easily cost a small fortune.

It was time for business. The casual atmosphere of the room changed. Hubert had asked the question they all wanted to know.

The reaction of the people around William told him he had already sold the whiskey, as they had only just brought up the cost. Gil had said to sell it for a silver coin a barrel, but William estimated it was worth more. The question was how much more. William thought it over before he replied.

Chapter 25: It’s Marketing

The whiskey was a huge success, and all that remained was to make a deal for it. William put on his serious face and looked over at Hubert, who seemed to be the one in charge. If he went too high, it might cause trouble, but William would only be hurting himself and Gil if he sold it too cheap.

“I can do two silver coins plus three coppers per barrel,” William said.

Hubert frowned slightly. “That much, huh?”

They had reached the point where the two parties would haggle over the price. Hubert, however, tilted his head to one side and then the other before slowly nodding. Olive, who had finished her entire mug, looked over at William.

“I never thought I would be sitting next to The Dragonslayer himself drinking,” Olive said.

“Ah, a bargain at that price. It’s a deal,” Hubert said.

Having finished a glass, Olive was acting slightly tipsy. William smiled at her understandingly. Olive had never seen Hubert agree to the first offer and looked over at him. William was also surprised by his response but maintained his composure.

“You can pull the rest of the barrels to the back of the building. George will meet you there with the money,” Hubert said.

The quick agreement to the deal told William he and Gil had seriously undervalued their product. Having already agreed to the price, though, William went outside. Climbing up on Pip, he turned the wagon and headed around the building.

Reaching the back of the building, William could only see a single set of double doors. Pulling Pip in front of them, he dismounted. William moved back to the cart and unloaded the two barrels down to the ground. It wasn’t long before the doors swung open, revealing the bartender.

“I have a spot for those over here,” George said, picking up one of the barrels.

William picked up the other barrel and followed George into the back of the guild. George led William down a couple of maze-like pathways where the walls consisted of high shelves stocked with all sorts of goods. One last turn, and he motioned to an empty spot on the floor.

“Normally, we don’t buy alcohol locally,” George said, setting his barrel down.

“Why’s that?” William asked, placing the last barrel in the spot George indicated.

“Well, the local stuff’s all made by Grober, and it’s crap,” George said. “We only buy a barrel or two from him, waiting for the rest of our shipments from outside the area to arrive. Your whiskey, though, is good, terrific, actually. I think it rivals and even surpasses some of the big brewers in Kingstown. Just a shame you can only do five barrels a week. If every barrel is as good as the sample, I think we could do eight weekly here alone.”

The words George had just spoken told William that Gil’s alcohol was a much bigger business than Gil had thought. George handed the money to William, who added it to his pouch. The two shook hands, and William smiled.

Following the path they had just gone down, William was soon back at the double doors. Opening the door, he stepped out and moved over to Pip. George had followed him and was standing in the doorway.

“Now we will be able to get those five barrels next week, right?” George asked. “Cause I want to start selling this tonight.”

“Of course. We have a standing order with you then?” William asked, turning back around.

“Yea, I reckon those two barrels won't last two days.” George laughed. “Especially because Hubert likes it. Never seen a man who could drink so much.”

“Then we will send you five barrels at the end of every week,” William said.

William’s business at the guild was over, and it was a bittersweet departure. The place was full of memories of a life he had lived and the sorrows he had faced. Returning to the bakery, William was greeted by Gil, who had been waiting for him.

With the cart empty, Gil knew the transaction had gone well. As William dismounted Pip, Gil headed over his way to find out what kind of deal William had made. The price Gil had initially quoted William was just a guide, and he needed to see how well William had done.

“So they bought the barrels?” Gil asked.

“Sure did, not only that, but they want five a week from now on,” William responded.

“And the price?” Gil asked.

“I got the price you wanted and more. Two silvers and three coppers per barrel,” William said.

Gil’s mind was abuzz with that news. It meant that the alcohol business would be profitable for him even after the taxes. Gil’s little side business could grow into his central business at the increased price. William smiled and squeezed Gil tightly.

“Looks like we are in the alcohol business,” William said.

“Yea, we sure are,” Gil agreed, looking up at William.

“Oh, and they called it William’s Whiskey,” William added with a shrug.

“William’s Whiskey,” Gil repeated, trying out the name. “I like that; it has a good ring to it.”

“That’s what the bartender said.” William smiled.

William unhitched the cart from Pip, while Gil went back inside the bakery to see if Judy and Barry were okay. Once Pip was secured, William also went inside. Since he was in the building earlier that day, it had become a bustling place.

From the back of the shop, William could see the line of people waiting to place their orders. It was only then that it dawned on him that it wasn't just Gil who was a kid but so were Judy and Barry. The entire shop was being run by kids, and they were doing a great job.

It was easy to forget just how young Gil was being around him. The more he didn't act like a kid, the more William and the others around him expected it. Looking over at Gil working, William felt proud seeing his youngest boy doing so well.

Once business slowed down, Gil returned to the back of the bakery where William was waiting. On the table was the cinnamon roll Judy had saved. Picking up the sweet roll, Gil handed it off to William.

“Here, try this,” Gil said.

William took the roll from Gil and bit into it. The taste of sweet icing mixed with something he couldn’t place took over his mouth. It was a soft, delicious treat, unlike anything he had ever tried.

“This is amazing,” William said, taking a larger bite.

“That’s our cinnamon roll. It’s part of the sweet items we now sell.”

“I bet these sell well. You should bring some home sometime,” William said between mouthfuls.

“That and the sweet loaves sell out, we don't usually have any left over.”

Gil, satisfied that William had gotten to try the cinnamon roll, went back to the front of the bakery. William stayed in town with Gil and Cam for the remainder of the afternoon, occasionally helping the kids with their tasks. Once the bakery closed, William walked home with Cam and Barry, while Gil rode ahead with Judy.

The whiskey Gil made sold well, with the Adventurer’s Guild taking five barrels a week. Soon, Gil found that order alone kept his single still running almost non-stop. It was just another task added to the other ones he had at the bakery, and he budgeted his time around it.

Things were looking up, with William and Gil making over a gold coin a week gross from the alcohol business. William pitched in from time to time and helped with the brewing process. Cam was the one tasked with the actual deliveries.

It was a family affair, with each of them devoting some of their time. Gil smiled at what he had accomplished. William wished they had the space to expand their business. Gil, for the time being, was content keeping it small.

Knowing the power of marketing, Gil had an idea. There has to be a way that we can mark the barrels with some kind of logo. The following day after work, Gil planned to stop by the Metal Worker’s Guild.

“On our way home, I’m thinking of stopping by the Metal Worker’s Guild,” Gil said.

“Again?” Judy asked.

“Yea, I want to order something from them,” Gil said. “Do you want to go with me?”

“Sure!” Judy said, always excited to spend more time with Gil.

After they closed the bakery, Cam arrived with Pip. Gil and Judy got up on the horse, while Barry and Cam set out to walk home. For a short distance, they all stayed together, but then their paths split ways.

“I’m going by the Metal Worker’s Guild and Judy is going to come with me,” Gil said.

“Alright, do you need us to come with you?” Cam asked.

“No, I don’t think they’ll have what I want today,” Gil replied. “I’ll have to custom order it.”

“Ok, we’ll head home then,” Cam said.

“See you later sis,” Barry said.

Barry and Cam waved and continued walking the path out of town. Gil watched them for a moment before turning Pip to go down a nearby road. Arriving, he stopped Pip just outside of the building. Jonas, as usual, came out to greet them.

“What can I do for you today, Gil?” Jonas asked.

“I need something a little different today.”

“Don’t you always,” Jonas said. “Well out with it, what are you wanting?”

“I want a branding iron,” Gil said.

“A branding what?” Judy interrupted.

“A branding iron? Don't know that,” Jonas said, shaking his head.

It appeared that neither of them had ever heard of the item Gil had mentioned. I wonder if they exist in this world. Jonas looked over at Gil with a serious expression.

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you're talking about,” Jonas said.

“It's a metal pole with a design on the end used to mark cattle,” Gil explained.

“Ah, a marking rod. Is it? Jonas said. “Never heard them called a branding iron before.”

“I’m not sure,” Gil said, “do you have an example one I can see?”

“Of course, sure, just follow me.” Jonas turned about.

Gil rode Pip over to a nearby tree, and they both dismounted. “Before you go inside, you will want to put one of those leaves in each ear,” Gil said.

“A tree of silence! ‘I’ve read about these, but never have I seen one,” Judy said.

Gil showed her how to use the leaves as earplugs. Judy seemed excited about trying out the tree leaves. Tree of silence? Does Judy know something I don’t? To Judy, getting to see the inside of the factory was just as exciting.

The intense heat and muffled sounds made it an unusual place. Following Jonas, they were soon inside a storage area of the building. Racks and shelves housed goods of all kinds.  Moving over to one of the racks of items, Jonas reached out and produced what was essentially a branding iron.

“That’s it!” Gil said.

“Ah, most rich noble types who own cattle use these. Their workers use ‘em to mark the beasts, making them harder to steal,” Jonas explained. “What on earth do you need something like that for? Starting another business with cattle?” Jonas laughed while looking at Gil to see his reaction.

“No, nothing like that. I just want to burn a symbol into the barrels of alcohol I’m selling,” Gil said. “A design that marks the barrels as ours.”

“I see.” Jonas seemed to be thinking it over, and slowly, he nodded his head, understanding. “So what design do you want, on the end of it?”

“A dragon,” Gil said proudly.

The idea of putting a dragon design on the end of a marking rod caused Jonas to go wide-eyed. “A dragon? What in the kingdom do you want that for?”

To the people of the Vale, dragons were a beast to be feared. The one that William had killed was the first of its kind in over a thousand years. It had destroyed crops, razed entire villages, and cut a swath of destruction and mayhem across the land. The number of the dead it left in its wake was almost immeasurable.

“My father, William, is a dragonslayer,” Gil said.

Jonas and Judy’s eyes grew wide with surprise. While Gil had said ‘a dragonslayer’ instead of ‘The Dragonslayer,’ they both knew what he meant. Gil’s father was the man who had killed the beast that had ravaged the kingdom. Jonas, who already held Gil in high esteem, suddenly saw him with even higher admiration.

Judy, who was hearing the news for the first time, was trying to process it. It didn’t make any sense. If William was The Dragonslayer, he and his boys should be living in a marble mansion, with all the luxuries of life, outside Kingstown, not in a run-down two-room shack outside Brighton village. The Holms’ family only lived outside Brighton to be near the orchard they owned, as they could afford a nicer home in a larger town.

“So, what do you think? Can it be done?” Gil asked.

“My boy, anything for you,” Jonas said. “The question is what kind of design? We don’t want to scare people. Something powerful, but you want it to show strength more than fear.”

“Your father, William, is The Dragonslayer?” Judy whispered to herself. “The Dragonslayer.”

Had Judy’s mother known all along? It would make sense. Cam and Gil were the only kids they could play with regularly. Occasionally, they would play with some of the other kids, but when the Holms’ children did so, they were never allowed the freedom they enjoyed while playing with William’s two boys.

If Gil or Jonas heard Judy, neither attempted to answer her. Instead, Gil studied the dwarf’s face, trying to figure out if he could do the design. It was hard to do as Jonas wore a strange look upon it. Maybe Jonas is thinking about the design?

“Well, dragons being as big as they are, I think maybe we should just do a part of it,” Jonas finally said. “Like only the head.”

“Ok,” Gil replied, confident that whatever Jonas came up with would be perfect.

“I think I can have it in a couple of days,” Jonas said, stroking his beard. “I might want to try out a couple of styles to see which ones make a clean mark. We usually charge a silver for marking rods, but yours will be a little more complex. Let’s say a silver and three coppers?”

“Sounds good to me,” Gil said, not bothering to barter with the dwarf. The price was within his budget, and Gil thought dealing with Jonas might push the delivery date back.

With Gil’s business at the Metal Worker’s Guild finished, he and Judy climbed back on Pip and rode away from the building. Jonas watched them leave from the door. Going back inside, he started sketching some designs for the end of the rod on a piece of paper.

Chapter 26: Trips and Money

Dropping Judy off at her house, Gil returned home as usual. Cam took care of Pip while Gil went inside and set the table. William was already cooking. When the entire family was sitting down for dinner, a knock came at the cabin’s door.

William got up from the table and opened the door. Roland, who was on the other side, was immediately invited in. Gil hadn’t seen him for a while, so this visit was a surprise. Much like the family, Roland had been having one of his best years.

“I have great news!” Roland shouted.

Roland was excited about something. The merchant was talking so fast that everyone had difficulty figuring out what he was saying. Gil had never seen Roland so animated before.

“A loyal servant of King Leopard personally brought a message to my shop in Kingstown,” Roland said, waving a rolled-up paper around. “The king wants a chess set. Can you imagine such a thing? The king himself!”

“I’m glad you stopped by. I’ve been thinking of adding a chess and checkers game to the bakery,” Gil said. “When do you think I will be able to get them?”

“What? What does that have to do with an order from the king?” Roland asked.

Thinking he had Roland’s attention, Gil said, “I guess it would be a chess set, an extra board, and some checkers. That way, I can have two complete games.”

“The king wants a chess set. This is great news for us both,” Roland said, turning to face Gil. “We will have to make a special one, just for the king!”

Roland had used ‘the king’ twice to emphasize the words. Great, sell him one already. Gil wasn’t sure what the big deal was. Roland, after all, sold chess sets.

“So you will need to start work on a custom set just for the king,” Roland said.

“What? A custom set?” Gil asked.

The idea of making another chess set for the king or anyone else was not something Gil was about to do. Frowning, he looked over at Roland. How can I get out of this?

“Well, isn’t that something,” William said.

“A chess set… for the… the king,” Cam stammered. “That’s amazing! A custom... game board... for the king.”

It was unusual for Cam to stutter out his words. Gil only remembered hearing him do it around Cindy, the girl he had met at the tournament. Looking over at his brother, Gil could see that Cam was wide-eyed and had a strange expression. William, looking over at his oldest boy, chuckled.

“So, how long will I have to wait for the chess set and checkers?” Gil asked. “It would be best if I can get them in the next week or so.”

“Well, as soon as you make it, of course,” Roland said, thinking Gil was talking about the king’s set.

“What? Do I have to make my own? Can’t I order them from you?” Gil asked.

“Of course, you have to make it. It’s a custom set,” Roland said.

Cam stuttered out, “I heard the king... has a bed with a frame… made out of pure gold.”

“No, I don’t need a custom set. Your regular one will do.”

“For the king? Never! It has to be a custom set made of the finest materials available,” Roland said. “It has to be better in every imaginable way. Goods crafted for royalty are always of the best quality.”

“I just need a couple of game boards and a set of checkers and chess pieces.”

“What? Checkers? I didn’t say anything about them,” Roland said. “I’m talking about the custom set for the king.”

“What?” Gil said, letting Roland’s words sink in.

Gil didn’t share the merchant’s excitement. Instead, he calculated how much pain it would be to carve a custom set. So much detail and precision would have to go into it.

“Oh, and the best part. The game request comes with a special lunch invitation. Eating at the castle, imagine that. We get to meet the king himself,” Roland said.

“Lunch? And a custom game?” Gil was losing interest even faster now. “I don’t have time for that. I have two businesses to run.”

“So you and I,” Roland pointed at Gil and then himself, “will be going to Kingstown!”

Roland was acting as if he’d just won an all-expense-paid trip. Gil didn’t have time to go on some long trip, paid or not. There was simply too much to do in Brighton.

“I will be the first of my people to sit down with the king of Vale,” Roland said.

“Congratulations,” William said.

“What a truly amazing honor,” Roland stated.

“Just think of all the wonderful things the king eats,” Cam said. “It will be like eating at the bakery. I bet he has cinnamon rolls every day!”

We already eat those every day. Gil was confident the king didn’t have cinnamon rolls since Judy and he had created them. The lack of sweet items Gil had seen in the kingdom meant the king most likely wouldn’t have many.

“A meal with the king? I didn’t think that would happen,” William said.

“I don’t have time for food with the king or anyone else. I have two businesses to run,” Gil said. “It’s just not possible. Maybe we can reschedule it for next year?”

Roland’s jaw dropped. “Don’t you understand how big a deal this is? Only heroes and the like dine with the king.”

William, one such hero, had dined at the castle more than once with the former king. Eating with royalty was much less of an honor in his eyes than Roland was making it out to be. Sure it was a prestigious thing for most. However, for William, it only reminded him of his past.

The nerve of that man. Ordering a custom chess set and wanting Gil to drop everything to deliver it. Who does the king think he is? To Gil, it just seemed like a lot of pain and effort for something they could get at Roland’s shop.

Even the lunch meeting sounded like it could be very stuffy. In Gil’s mind, he envisioned a large, tasteless meal, with attendants that filled up your glass every time you took a drink. Who has time for that kind of nonsense?

“So, Gil and you, would you be going to the castle alone?” William asked.

“Yes, bu-” Roland started to answer.

William interrupted. “Gil’s still very young.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I will be with Gil, so he won’t be alone,” Roland said. “I have a shop in Kingstown and travel there regularly. Gil and I will be dining with the king of Vale!”

“Hmm, I still don’t know. That’s a considerable distance, and just you two?” William asked.

“The Merchant’s Council is paying, and they have invited an additional family member along,” Roland said.

“So, another member of the family could go?” William asked, suddenly suspicious of the offer.

“Yes, they would like you to go, William, being the boy’s father.”

“I see,” William said coldly, his expression changing to a frown.

“But if you can’t, Gil’s older brother could go instead,” Roland said, noticing the immediate change in William’s demeanor.

“Cam, what do you think of going to the castle?” William asked.

“What, I could go meet the king?” Cam said, stunned.

The mention of Cam going on the trip set William a little more at ease. Thinking it over, he wasn’t sure if that was a good idea or not. Kingstown was a big place full of people and trouble, and Gil had been a handful just in Brighton.

“Can you imagine Gil?” Roland answered. “A royal luncheon with the king, isn’t it exciting? There is so much to do.”

William seemed to be the only one keeping a straight head other than Gil. Looking over at him, Gil could see that he was deep in thought about the proposal. Maybe Father will turn him down. That’s a possibility, right?

“The king himself wants to talk with you, Gil,” Roland said. “He has questions to ask you about your game. This is truly a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”

Not another person to teach chess to. Doesn’t he have instructions he can read?

“Why don’t you sit down at the table so we can talk about this some more,” William said.

“This is the kind of trip that could set the boy’s future,” Roland said as he took a seat. “Oh, I seem to have interrupted your meal. I’m sorry about that.”

Roland was right. A trip to the castle did help boost certain careers. William seemed to be thinking over everything a journey like this would offer. The thought had never crossed Roland’s mind that he might have to sell the idea to the family.

William spoke slowly, choosing his words. “The young king wants a chess set and dinner with Gil.” William sighed deeply, “I suppose it could be done. But some special arrangements would have to be made.”

“What?” Roland questioned.

“We get to meet the king!” Cam exclaimed at his father’s words.

Cam’s reaction was much more in line with what Roland had expected when he delivered the news. In Roland’s mind, everyone should be falling over themselves at such an offer. Having no children of his own, Roland didn’t seem to understand William’s perspective.

“Kingstown is a several-day trip from here, and the roads can be dangerous for anyone,” William said.

“But this is an honor and a duty. As a citizen of Vale, you can’t turn it down. Meeting the king is the highest achievement a person can get,” Roland said in disbelief.

“It’s not the honor part I have trouble with. It’s the Gil traveling part that bothers me,” William said. “I think arrangements could be made to make the trip possible.”

“There would also be a merchant representative going if that helps. And the Merchant’s Guild will be the one paying for the trip,” Roland said diplomatically.

Gil was beginning to realize that he didn’t have much say in anything. All because of the age of the body he was trapped inside. Sitting in his chair, he placed his head on his hands and pouted. It was childish behavior that Gil had performed without consciously thinking about it.

“This here is the letter,” Roland said, holding up a piece of paper.

“May I see it?” William asked.

Roland carefully slid the page across the table. Taking the letter, William looked it over. With his right hand, William ran his fingers over the seal at the bottom of the page. Feeling the raised stamp of the royal family, William nodded. The paper was, without question, official. William had in the past received plenty of orders from the royal family, so he was familiar with their crest and the way it felt.

As things quieted down, Gil tried again. “I would like to get two boards and a set of chess and checkers pieces from you for the bakery.”

“I just picked up some sets from the Carpenter’s Guild in Brighton, and I have them out in the carriage,” Roland said, finally answering Gil. “I can sell you what you want at a cost.”

Gil scratched his head. “Ok, then can we just take that expense out of my next commission?”

“That would be fine,” Roland said, clearly annoyed by Gil’s request.

Gil was extraordinary, and he had proven it time and time again. However, to capture the king’s attention in Kingstown, that was something William had never considered. Having moved away from the capital on purpose, he wasn’t eager to return.

A personal audience with the king was something only a hundred or so people in the entire kingdom would get a chance to do in a king’s lifetime. Such a meeting would not only increase sales of Gil’s game, but it would also increase interest in his other businesses. Some shrewd merchants turned such a visit into the foundation of their business.

It was easy to see why Roland was excited. For William, though, he knew about all the behind-the-scenes manipulation that went into such things. The royal family, especially the king, never did anything without having reasons to do so.

Seeing no way out of the words on the paper, William looked over at Gil. “I’m proud of you. This is truly a great honor.”

It was one of the few times William had expressed those words aloud. That only made Gil further recognize he couldn’t escape the visit. William was far less optimistic, but a meeting with the king could open many doors. All Gil could do was think about the fate that lay ahead of him.

“I’m sure it will go well,” William said, patting Gil on the head.

“We’re going to see the king!” Cam repeated excitedly.

“Now, when will you start on the new game?” Roland asked.

Gil was tired of making chess pieces by hand and carving them took so much time. With Gil’s new businesses, it would be a significant inconvenience. Gil thought about it, trying to find a way to pass the work onto someone else. Jonas had done an excellent job on the alcohol still, and Gil figured that would make the set more unique than if it was made of wood.

“Do you think we can have the pieces cast? At the Metal Worker’s Guild?” Gil asked.

“What?” Roland questioned.

Roland was stunned, speechless for a full minute. When he did speak, Roland seemed upset. It was just a way to pass the pain of crafting onto someone else to Gil.

“That’s perfect,” Roland said. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of it.”

Chapter 27: Building a Brand

Having gotten chess and checkers games from Roland, Gil took them to the bakery. Setting the games on the back table, he studied the front area of the shop. It was large enough for two small tables and eight chairs to be placed in front of the display counter.

Making a note, Gil wrote down two tables and eight chairs. Stepping out the front of the store, he saw space for two additional tables and four chairs. Gil made a note of those on the paper as well.

“What are you doing out here?” Judy asked, sticking her head out the front door.

“I’m thinking of remodeling some. Maybe adding in a couple of tables and chairs,” Gil said.

“But we’re not a restaurant,” Judy said.

“I know, but I think people might like to sit and eat. It makes the shop more comfortable.”

The dragon head branding iron he had ordered had given him the idea. The bakery, which was growing more popular, also needed some branding. Referencing companies from his past life, Gil was sure he could create businesses that would be recognized all over the kingdom.

“What do you think of ‘The Sweet Bakery?’” Gil asked. “For its name?”

“What?” Judy looked over at Gil. “‘The Sweet Bakery?’ I guess that’s ok,” Judy said.

“It needs a proper name. With how much business we do, it deserves it.”

“We do sell sweet treats,” Judy said. “But I’ve never heard of a bakery being called anything but a bakery.”

“And just how many bakeries do you know with a menu like ours?” Gil asked.

“None. Some restaurants have menus like ours, but only in the larger cities. They also have names, but I don’t think any bakeries do,” Judy said. “Or at least I’ve never heard of any.”

“Then it’s time to change that. Our bakery is not just another bakery. Our bakery is ‘The Sweet Bakery.’” Gil swept his arm out across the front of the building.

Judy, not sure what to think about Gil, went back inside. When Gil was done outside, he went back in to help with the morning routine. Though Gil had the game boards, he was missing the tables, so their customers would have to wait to play them.

“What’s this?” Barry asked, looking at the games.

“That's a chess and checkers game,” Gil said. “I want to put one out in the front area of the bakery so customers can play.”

“What does it do?” Barry asked, looking at the pieces.

“It’s a game for two people. They take turns,” Gil said, taking a bishop and demonstrating how.

“Hmmm…” Barry watched with some interest. “Our customers won’t know how to play.”

Very few people knew how to play chess or checkers besides the wealthy. Having already thought of that, Gil intended to teach Barry and Judy how. Teaching them means they can teach our customers. It’s easier to learn a game from someone who knows how to play it than from written instructions.

“Hey Judy, why don’t you step over here, and I’ll go to the other side,” Gil said.

Judy moved over to the lighter-colored pieces while Gil took the darker ones. Barry intently watched as Gil moved a piece forward. On Judy’s turn, she mimicked the movement Gil had just made.

“Like this?” Judy asked.

“Exactly,” Gil said.

“So can all of these move like that?” Barry asked.

“No, each type of piece on the board has its own movement style,” Gil said.

Gil demonstrated how to move the various pieces in the game. Judy, seeing this, mimicked Gil’s movements with her pieces. After a few moments, they moved them back to their starting positions and began to play.

A couple of games in, Gil turned his side over to Barry, letting the brother and sister play against each other. Barry looked over at his sister, sure he would beat her. Picking up a piece, he moved it forward.

“If I moved this guy here, then he could take your piece there?” Barry asked.

“Yep,” Judy said, having already grasped the basics.

“Well, it looks like you lost that one, sis,” Barry said, removing one of her pawns.

Judy moved a rook across the row. “Check.”

“What? But you said I could move there,” Barry whined.

“I did, and you can, but doing so opens up your king for my rook,” Judy said.

“I think I understand.” Barry moved another piece in front of the rook.

Judy, on her turn, took that piece and said, “Checkmate.”

“What does that mean?” Barry said.

“It means you don’t have any other moves left,” Judy said. “Your king is trapped.”

Barry seemed to enjoy the game but wasn’t very good at it. Judy’s mind, however, just clicked with chess. It wasn’t long before her skills at the game exceeded Gil’s.

Playing chess and working in the bakery were Judy’s two favorite things, second only to her love for Gil. Judy, Barry, and Cam got to play a lot of chess and checkers between their tasks at the bakery. Gil would often check in on their games to see who was winning.

“What do you think of the colors red and white?” Gil asked.

“For what?” Judy questioned.

“They’re ok, I guess,” Barry said.

“It would be for a door overhang,” Gil responded.

“A what?” Judy asked.

Barry didn’t know either, and he just shrugged. Seeing their reaction, Gil decided that such a thing probably didn’t exist yet. That would most likely mean custom design work. Gil wrote it down on the paper and drew out a quick example of what he wanted.

“It just hangs over the door?” Judy asked, moving over to see Gil’s drawing.

“Yes, the colors help to bring people into the shop,” Gil said.

“We don’t have any problems getting people in the shop,” Barry said.

“I don’t think we need more customers,” Judy agreed. “Barry and I can barely run the place as it is.”

“I would hire someone else if needed,” Gil said. “Besides, people will eventually become bored with what we offer, and it will slow down.”

“Really?” Barry asked.

“It might take a few months,” Gil said.

The following day after Gil and Judy arrived at the bakery, they went inside. Starting the morning batch of dough, they were about finished with it when Cam and Barry arrived. Seeing the other boys, Gil waved at them.

“If you two have things under control here, Cam and I will go to the Metal Worker’s Guild and see if they are done with my order,” Gil said.

“We should be fine,” Judy replied.

The two brothers got up on Pip and headed out of the back area. Arriving outside the Metal Worker’s Guild, they rode up towards the building. Jonas soon emerged from inside.

“Oh, it’s you,” Jonas said with a smile. “Well, get down. I got something to show you.”

As Gil lowered himself to the ground, the dwarf went back inside to get his order. It was only a few moments later that Jonas returned. In one hand, he held what Gil thought to be his branding iron, and in the other, he held a chunk of wood. Having finished the work, Jonas proudly displayed the results.

“This here is it,” Jonas said, showing off the piece of wood that had been branded with the design.

Gil studied the results. Burned into the wood was the black shape of a dragon’s head. The design impressed Gil as he reached out and felt the texture the mark had made in the wood.

“I like it,” Gil said. “I think you made a good decision only to do part of the dragon.”

“Why did you get a dragon?” Cam asked.

“I need a unique mark for my alcohol,” Gil said.

“You could have done a wolf, like on my scabbard,” Cam said.

Gil nodded. If William was a wolfslayer, I might have done that. Happy with Jonas’ work, Gil took the branding iron in hand. Reaching into his money pouch, he produced the coins.

“So a silver and three coppers?” Gil asked.

“Yeah, it was harder than I thought it would be. Getting the little details,” Jonas said. “If they are too small, they get lost in the burned copy.”

With Gil’s business done, he climbed back on Pip and turned to ride towards the bakery. Having returned, Barry and Judy emerged from inside to see what Gil had. Starting a batch of whiskey, Gil put the branding rod’s tip into the fire under the alcohol still.

With the branding iron being red hot, Gil took it out of the fire and touched it to the closest barrel. With a loud hissing sound, the wood it touched turned dark. Pulling the tool back, it left the design of a dragon’s head burned into the barrel.

“That's neat! Do it again,” Barry said.

“What are you doing?” Judy asked.

“I’m marking the barrels, so we know which ones are ours. It’s also a form of marketing,” Gil said.

“Marketing?” Cam questioned.

“The place that sells food?” Barry asked.

“No, not a market, it’s marketing,” Gil corrected him. “It is a process where you build up a brand. Everyone that sees that dragon head will associate it with our whiskey.”

“So it’s dragon whiskey?” Judy asked.

Repeating the process, Gil marked the rest of the barrels with the dragon head symbol. Finished, Gil stood back and admired his work. Cam moved over next to the barrels to get a closer look.

“Why a dragon?” Barry asked.

“Well, we needed something that no one else was using, and it needed to be memorable,” Gil said, careful with his words.

Gil was purposefully withholding how the symbol related to William being a dragonslayer. It wasn’t that he was lying to them, he just didn’t want Cam to know. If William wanted us to know, he would have told us.

“I don’t think I understand,” Barry said. “Are you saying that if you got an apple design and used it, people would think of your whiskey when they saw apples?”

Cam nodded in agreement. The whole idea was also silly in his head. If someone wanted to know if it was their alcohol or not, they should ask them. Barry, seeing that Gil had marked the last barrel, seemed to be thinking about something.

“Basically, yes, there’s a lot more behind a logo, but that’s the concept,” Gil said.

“So you want to brand the bakery as well? You could use an apple for it?” Barry asked.

“I do. I came up with ‘The Sweet Bakery’ for a name,” Gil said.

Gil thought over what Barry had just said. Already, he had thought about making some apple treats when fall came. An apple logo for the bakery was not a bad idea.

“I think maybe an apple would work for the bakery,” Gil said.

“What?” Barry asked, having only chosen an apple because of his family’s orchard.

Barry hadn’t meant to use an apple for the bakery, but he liked the idea. Having an apple design for the bakery could be an excellent way to show Tom there were other ways to produce money from apples. Since taking the job at the bakery, Tom had begun to pick on Barry as well.

“Hey, Cam, I need a couple more items for the bakery,” Gil said.

“What now?” Cam asked.

“Well, I made a list. It’s a few tables and chairs,” Gil said.

Handing the list over to Cam, Gil sent him out to gather the items. Gil had been entrusting his brother with more duties, and Cam had been doing well. It was late afternoon before Cam returned to the bakery. Having been to several shops, the older boy had compared prices and quality. Entering the back of the bakery, he saw Gil helping a customer and waited patiently.

“I was able to order the tables and chairs,” Cam said. “I did have a little trouble with the overhang, but it can be a custom order for four silvers. In total, it looks like about two gold.”

“That much?” Gil asked.

“Yea, the tables are not the standard house-size tables,” Cam said. “They have to be the size you wrote down, right?”

Gil frowned. The amount for the furniture was a lot. Remodeling the bakery would take a chunk out of his profits. Businesses were like that, though there was a price to pay every time you expanded.

“I don’t have that much on me right now. I will have to go by the Merchant’s Guild and get some,” Gil said.

Cam understood. Two gold, even for his genius brother, was a lot of money. Gil helped another customer while the older boy went into the bakery’s back and stole a warm sweet roll that was cooling. Taking a bite, Cam thought having a brother who owned a shop that made food did have its perks.

Chapter 28: Better Business

Stopping by the Merchant’s Guild, Gil withdrew the money he needed to furnish the bakery. Cam, who was now getting paid regularly, made a deposit into his account. Though Gil looked all around, Luna was nowhere to be seen.

“This is a lot of money,” Gil said, handing the two gold coins off to Cam.

“I know,” Cam said. “I’ll take care of it.”

“Just try not to waste any of it,” Gil said.

After their business at the bank, Cam dropped Gil off back at the bakery. Gil went inside, wondering if he had done the right thing giving Cam so much money. Inside, Gil helped Barry and Judy tend to the customers. When the place grew quiet, Gil looked over at his workers.

“Cam went to get some chairs and tables,” Gil said. “Depending on when he gets back, we might try setting them up today.”

“What for?” Barry asked.

“Well, I want to turn the bakery into more of a social gathering place,” Gil said. “So I might need you to stay until he gets back if you can.”

“That’s fine.”

“I can stay,” Judy said.

Whenever Gil told Barry to do something, it was never demanding. Instead, it always came off as a request. Gil always said it with, ‘if you can,’ which made all the difference. Barry found Gil to be a very nice boss. Even taking orders from his younger sister wasn’t all bad. Judy knew how everything ran at the bakery, so she was there to answer any question.

“What’s a social get-together thing,” Barry said, trying to remember the words Gil had used.

“Oh, I want the bakery to be a place where people can eat together and chat over the things happening in the kingdom. A place where they can play a game of chess and relax,” Gil explained.

“I think it sounds lovely,” Judy remarked, squeezing Gil’s arm tightly.

“We should probably get some coffee beans and serve coffee too,” Gil said, thinking out loud.

“What’s a coffee bean?” Barry asked.

“I’ve never heard of that,” Judy said.

“It’s a bean that can be ground up to make a drink,” Gil said, answering more out of habit than thinking over what he was saying.

“Drinking beans?” Barry asked. “Such a thing exists?”

Coming back to reality, Gil smiled. “Yep, drinking beans and eating bread are two of the best things in life. We are going to bring those to the people of the kingdom. That reminds me, both of you have done such a good job that I am giving you both a raise.”

“What?” Barry said excitedly.

Working at the bakery was what Barry would call easy work. Having tried to help out in the apple fields, Barry knew what Gil was paying him to do was much less physically tiring. Already making as much as Tom was, he was shocked at the thought that he could make more.

“With the amount of business we are doing daily, it only seems fair,” Gil said. “If we continue to be busy, I will also look for someone else to hire.”

“Are we making enough to get a raise?” Judy asked.

Judy worked at the bakery to be close to Gil, so she didn’t want a raise if it would hurt the business. After all, if there weren't a bakery, she wouldn’t see Gil daily. Already making more than her brother, Tom, it was hard to believe that Gil had the money to pay them so well.

“The bakery is doing a good business,” Gil said.

The group began to clean up for closing, only dealing with the occasional straggler who happened through the door. Eventually, Cam returned and entered the shop. Motioning the others over to the door, he opened it and showed them the new furniture.

The small wagon was full. As Barry and Cam unloaded it, Gil held the door open so they could bring the items inside. Carrying a table, Cam and Barry made their way through the door. On the other side of it was Judy, who directed them to the front of the shop.

“We need to place one in each corner,” Judy said.

Cam and Barry moved a table over in the direction Judy pointed. Once placed in the correct position, they headed out for the chairs. Everything Gil had envisioned for the bakery was coming together. It took several loads to carry in the four tables and twelve chairs.

“Each morning, Barry and Cam, I will need your help setting up two tables outside if the weather’s nice,” Gil said. “Otherwise, we will have to keep those in the office.”

Cam looked over at his brother. “Sure thing. I got the overhang for the front door ordered, but it will be a week before it’s ready.”

“Ok,” Gil said, crossing his arms and looking over the new bakery tables. “Well, what do you think?”

“People will have a place to sit down instead of having to stand in line,” Barry said.

“Here are the games,” Judy said, carrying the checkers and chess game up to the front of the shop.

For now, just place them on the counter,” Gil instructed. “When we officially set up the tables tomorrow, we can lay them out one on each. Maybe we should get a little cart for them, so they aren’t always sitting on the tables.”

“I think that’s a good idea,” Judy said, looking over the changes. “We don’t want them in the way if people are eating.”

“Well, Barry, thank you for your help,” Gil said. “I guess we’re all free to go now.”

While Gil and Judy rode on Pip, Barry and Cam followed them down the road. It was only late afternoon, and while the weather was crisp, it wasn’t cold enough to wear coats. The paths to and from work always seemed shorter because Judy and Barry had their friends to talk to.

Reaching Judy and Barry’s home, the kids said their goodbyes. Cam climbed up on Pip, and the brothers headed to the cabin. Finishing up their chores, it was soon dinner time.

Gil looked over at William. “I think the bakery needs a name.”

“What?” William asked.

“We added in tables and chairs today,” Cam said.

“Really?” William ran his finger through his hair and thought over what the boys had said. “It’s not a restaurant, Gil.”

“I know, but I want to hire you to make a sign for the bakery,” Gil said.

“What kind of sign?” William asked.

“I want to name it.”

“Name it?” William questioned.

“It’s ‘The sweet bakery,’” Gil replied.

William breathed a slight sigh of relief. Happy Gil hadn’t said William’s Bakery. Thinking the job over, William nodded his head slightly. Gil had added several sweet items to the menu.

“You could make a sign,” William said.

“I know, but I just don’t have time,” Gil said. “Business is crazy right now.”

While Gil was quite capable of making a sign, William knew it was probably true that he didn’t have the time. Thinking the matter over, he agreed to help his son. William wondered how the little boy worked so hard, looking over at Gil.

“I want the sign in the shape of an apple,” Gil said.

“But you don’t serve anything with apples, right?” William asked.

“Not yet, but we will,” Gil said, with a glint in his eye.

William, having seen that look before, let out a laugh. When Gil got that look, the best thing to do was just to let his idea play out. After the meal, William grabbed a piece of paper and sat down with Gil.

“Tell me what you have in mind for the sign,” William said.

“I want a large apple, and if we can, I would like the words ‘The Sweet Bakery’ to be raised from the back of the design,” Gil said, taking the paper.

Using his drawing skills, Gil drew up what he had in mind and passed the paper back. William looked over the design. Gil’s skill at drawing impressed his father, who could tell what Gil wanted from the image.

“So that’s what you want?” William asked.

“If you can,” Gil replied.

With that, the sign was commissioned. The last of the bakery remodel was underway. The following day, Gil got up as usual and picked up Judy on the way into the shop. The young boy was impressed as Judy was always already waiting for him. Helping her up onto Pip, the two set out for the village.

“Are you ready?” Gil said.

“I sure am.” Judy smiled.

Reaching the bakery, they started their morning tasks as usual, and just about when the second batch of dough came out of the oven, Cam and Barry arrived. The older boys set up the tables while Judy and Gil finished making the day’s products.

“We got the tables all set up,” Cam said.

“Good,” Gil replied, giving up the ovens to Barry.

The first customer to trickle in when the shop was open looked at the tables. It was not unusual for places that served full meals to have tables and chairs, but it was odd for a bakery. Taking their order, they looked over at the table and sat down at it.

“These tables are for anyone?” Stan asked.

Stan was a regular customer of the bakery, and he often visited early, just after they opened. Gil now recognized several customers on sight because they, like Stan, visited a couple of times a week. Gil nodded as he looked over in that direction.

“Yes, they are,” Gil said. “We even have games, like chess and checkers available.”

“Oh, I don’t know how to play,” Stan said, looking slightly embarrassed.

“We’re not busy. If you have the time, I could show you how,” Gil offered.

“Really?” Stan asked.

With that, Gil moved over to the table and demonstrated chess. Stan, who had never seen the game, had heard of it. Soon, Stan was able to play it.

The tables and games kept people in the shop longer and, as Gil intended, caused them to spend more. The additions also helped Judy and Barry become closer to the shop’s customers. Occasionally, they took the place of Gil in showing someone how to play the games.

Keeping people around longer had originally been Gil’s intention, but teaching the games to everyone who stopped by also created an interest in customers owning their own sets. Sadly, however, the games were so expensive to buy for an individual that it wasn’t possible for most.

Chess and checkers had been something that only the wealthy had access to play up to that point. Giving everyone, regardless of social standing, the opportunity to learn and use the games was unheard of. Gil’s afterthought increased demand for the games at the bakery and Roland’s shop.

“Someone said buying a chess set costs eight silver coins,” Judy said.

“I didn’t know that. I get them at a cost from Roland,” Gil said. “I think they are about a silver for me.”

“Really? Eight silver coins?” Barry asked who wanted one as a gift for his father.

“Do you think we could have a contest and give a set away to the winner?” Judy asked. “Something like that would be nice.”

“I don’t see why not,” Gil replied. “I’ll have to get some more.”

Judy, who loved playing chess, took Gil’s response as a call to action. While Gil hadn’t precisely meant it that way, he was soon writing a note to Roland and sliding it under his shop door. It simply stated that he wanted to buy some additional chess sets and checkers.

The following day, Danny, the supplier, stopped by the shop near closing time. As Judy was placing their regular order, Gil stepped over beside them. Looking up, Danny smiled at the bakery owner.

“I see you’ve been busy,” Danny said. “That’s a lot of sugar you're ordering.”

“We have been,” Gil replied. “Do you carry coffee?”

“What’s that?” Danny asked.

“It’s a drink made with beans,” Gil replied.

“Well, I don’t know anything about coffee, but I do carry bitter brown seeds. Some people grind them up to make a drink. People say it’s good for digestion. I also have several varieties of tea leaves.”

“Can I see them? The bitter seeds?” Gil asked excitedly.

“Sure.” Danny went outside to his cart and returned shortly with a large bag of brown seeds.

Looking over the item in the bag, Gil gasped. They were coffee beans. Raising some to his nose, he breathed in the scent, which had a deep, smoky aroma. Letting the small pieces fall between his fingers, he looked over at Danny.

“How much are they?” Gil asked.

Danny was shocked by Gil’s reaction. “Not a lot of calls for them. I sell a bag that size for about three copper.”

“How many bags do you currently have?” Gil asked.

“Oh, I have three bags with me,” Danny said. “I can get more if you want them.”

“Ok, I will take them all,” Gil said.

“What? Really?” Danny seemed surprised. “I usually just sell them to the church healers. They use it for different illnesses.”

“Yea, I have an idea for these.”

Filling the order, Danny soon left the beans and other items Judy had wanted on the counter in the back of the bakery. Judy saw the three coffee bean bags and shook her head. Moving over, she checked the rest of the order.

“What do we want these for?” Judy asked.

“I’ll show you,” Gil said.

Gil took out a handful of the brown seeds. Picking up the pestle and mortar, he placed them inside. Grinding up the beans created a strong scent in the air, and Judy breathed it in.

“Is it like cinnamon?” Judy asked.

“No, well, kind of,” Gil said. “This makes a drink.”

“A drink?” Judy looked at the powder in the small bowel.

Gil filled a pitcher with water and sat it to the side on top of the oven. Judy watched as Gil continued to crush the coffee beans. Grabbing a clean towel, Gil poured the brown, ground-up mess onto it.

“Eventually, I’ll have the Metal Worker’s Guild make us a proper grinder,” Gil said. “But for now, we will just have to grind them this way.”

“Why did you pour them out on the towel?” Judy asked.

“Ah, we’ll use that as a filter. You don’t want the little parts getting into the drink. They are bitter and don’t taste good,” Gil said.

“So it’s like making tea?” Judy asked.

“Kind of.”

Judy watched as the water started to boil. Gil picked up the pitcher carefully, using a towel to protect his hand, and poured it over the ground coffee.

“What does it taste like?” Judy asked.

“Well, it’s very bitter, and most people don’t like it at first,” Gil said. “The taste, however, kind of grows on you. It’s the perfect morning pick-me-up. Full of caffeine, something that causes people to have more energy.”

Taking a sip, Judy wrinkled up her face, “Ewww, you’re going to sell this?” Judy asked.

“I told you. Most people don’t like it the first time,” Gil said with a slight shrug. “Some people take it with sugar or milk in it. If we add it to the menu, I bet we will find some really like it.”

Raising his glass to his nose, he breathed in the scent of a cup of coffee. It wasn’t perfect by any means, especially with the haphazard way Gil had made it. Taking a drink, he remembered how he often spent early mornings back in his world drinking coffee.

Chapter 29: The Contest

About a week after Gil dropped off the note, asking for chess sets from Roland, the merchant visited the family’s cabin. William opened the door to let Roland inside. Seeing Gil, Roland’s eyes lit up.

“I brought the games you wanted,” Roland said.

“Thank you,” Gil replied.

“Will two be enough?” Roland asked.

“For now,” Gil answered. “We’re doing a tournament at the bakery.”

“Oh? Maybe that’s why I’ve gotten some requests from the area,” Roland said, thinking over the words.

“I don’t know; it was all Judy’s idea,” Gil said. “I have been meaning to ask you about the investment rates at the Merchant's Guild, though, they have changed dramatically.”

“Yes, it appears the lord of this territory, Lord Drace, has been cut off from guild loans and most likely the royal family.” Roland frowned. “A thing like that affects everyone living in the region.”

Gil bit his lip and thought over what Roland had said. It sounded like Lord Drace had been doing something to keep the rates higher. Whatever that was, it sounded like he had been caught.

“Won't something like that eventually destabilize the region?” Gil asked.

“Umm…” Roland looked over at Gil.

The boy was much smarter than he looked, and Roland searched for the right words to say, “It will eventually. You can't run a territory without some credit.”

Gil nodded. The entire territory was operating without any safety net. That explained the increase in taxes. A pit formed in Gil's stomach as he realized what an unstable territory might look like in this world.

“But that could be a long time in the future. Besides, it won't be long now, before we travel to Kingstown,” Roland said, changing the subject to something he thought to be happier.

“Should we still be going?” Gil asked, almost as if speaking to himself.

“What? Of course, we should. We earned this trip. However, since it’s getting closer to winter, we will be going to Kingstown in the spring. Before that, weather permitting, we will do some preparation.” Roland smiled.

“That long?” Cam said, disappointed. “At this rate, I will never get to see the king.”

“What kind of preparation?” Gil asked, relieved the trip had been pushed back but suspicious of what else he needed to do.

“Well, we need to build the chess set and get you two ready to meet the king,” Roland said. “There’s a lot more to it than just riding up to the castle and saying hi.”

“But we’re invited,” Cam said with a sigh.

“Visiting the king is not like going over to your friend's house.”

“It all sounds good,” Gil said. “If the game tournament goes well, I will probably need a couple more sets at some point.”

“That’s fine. You can drop a note off at my shop,” Roland replied.

Roland, sadly, couldn’t stay long. Much like Gil, he was busy with work. William found some relief in pushing the trip back a few months also. With winter coming, it made sense, and it gave him more time to figure out what he should do.

The impending trip had been weighing heavily on William’s mind. Sending the boys off to Kingstown was something that might have sounded good on the spur of the moment. However, having had time to think it over, it just didn’t sit well with him.

Cam seemed to be the only family member upset by the decision. The oldest boy had wanted to see the king as soon as he had been told he could. Looking down at the ground, he envisioned what a meeting with the king would be like.

“Spring’s a long time away,” Cam said.

“It will be here before you know it,” Gil stated.

“Not till after winter,” Cam said, scratching his head.

“You two should go get ready for bed,” William instructed.

William thought over Roland’s visit as the boys got ready for bed. The trip to Kingstown was mostly out of his hands, but maybe he could work it out to be a more favorable thing. Gil and William’s whiskey business had been doing well, and expanding it might be something he should look into.

The following day at the bakery, Gil helped with the morning work. As usual, the bakery was busy, and the day passed quickly. When it did slow down in the afternoon, having the games to give away as prizes, Gil showed them to Judy and Barry.

“The winner of the tournament gets one of those?” Barry asked.

“They do,” Gil said.

“When will it be?” Judy asked. “The tournament? So I can start telling people.”

“With harvest coming up, sooner rather than later would be better,” Gil said. “We need to get it in before everyone’s focus changes. Also, the weather will start getting bad.”

Barry nodded. The apple harvest was all his father and Tom could talk about. Gil set the first tournament for a week later. Writing a note to that effect, he posted it at the front of the bakery.

While it wasn’t the most elegant sign in the world, it did the trick. People coming into the bakery would stop and read it. Eventually, some started asking questions about the tournament.

“So you’re having a game tournament?” Stan asked, stopping by for his usual.

“We are, and the winner gets a chess set as a prize,” Barry responded.

“Really? I might have to try for that,” Stan said. “It sounds like it could be fun.”

“I’m going to play,” Judy said. “It would be neat to win and get your own set.”

“I’ll say.”

The tournament caught the attention of all the regular customers the bakery had and was soon the talk of the shop. With the game competition coming up, the crew was even busier than usual, teaching people how to play. It seemed everyone was excited about the event, as not much happened around Brighton.

“Hey Gil, do you think you can help us ask mother and father about letting us come in the night?” Barry asked.

“Sure,” Gil replied.

“Good,” Judy said. “I think they will take it more seriously from you.”

When Gil dropped off the Holms’ kids, he went with them to the door. Gil knocked while Judy and Barry waited with him. When the door was answered, it was by Mrs. Holms.

“Hello, Gil,” Mrs. Holms greeted him.

“Hello, Barry and Judy wanted me to ask you if you would allow them to stay late one night at the bakery. We will be having a chess tournament.”

“I think we could allow that. I will have to speak to Mr. Holms, he’s out right now with the apple harvest so near, but I don’t see why not,” Mrs. Holms said.

Judy and Barry seemed excited. Once the kids had said their goodbyes, Gil walked back to Pip and Cam. Getting up on the horse, Gil started it towards home.

“What did she say?” Cam asked.

“Mrs. Holms said that she didn’t see any reason they couldn’t,” Gil said.

Having obtained permission from their parents, Judy and Barry soon informed Gil they could attend. The turnout was much larger than Gil had anticipated when that evening arrived. A crowd of approximately twenty people crowded into the bakery that night.

Gil had Barry and Cam move the glass counter back as far as possible to make room. It was cramped, but everyone was able to squeeze in. Gil looked at the crowd and saw that they should stagger the starting times if they had another tournament to make more room for everyone.

“Wow, I didn’t think there would be so many people,” Barry said.

“I know,” Cam added.

Judy’s idea of a chess competition was a solid one. As Gil looked over the crowd, he couldn’t help but feel excited. Having more sets, Gil set up one on each table inside, so two games at a time could be going. Cam and Barry brought up all the chairs they had to the front.

“It should be a fun evening,” Gil said. “If you give your first name, I will write you down here and get you officially entered. With tonight’s turn out like it is, we will have a single elimination. Meaning, if you lose, you’re out.”

With a piece of paper, Gil wrote down each person’s name. The bakery didn’t have any food or drinks to sell that evening, and Gil soon discovered that was a poor decision on his part. If they had been open, they would almost certainly have done as much business as they did during the day.

Gil had hastily set it up with the bakery’s workers wanting to compete. So, lost revenue aside, the night was full of fun. Stan played several matches before he was finally defeated.

“That was a good game,” Stan said, getting up from the table.

“Who’s next?” Gil asked, looking down at his list.

“I am,” Barry said.

Barry lost the match quickly to the person who had beat Stan, and soon it was Judy’s turn. Winning, she was allowed to keep her seat while her opponent was switched out. Match after match, Judy defeated all challengers.

“Well, it’s my turn,” Gil said, taking a seat opposite her.

The crowd watched the game unfold, and it was a good one. Judy and Gil had played numerous times before. In the end, though everyone had tried their hardest, Judy, being so skilled, beat them all.

“That’s it,” Gil said, laying his king down on the board in defeat.

“I won!” Judy shouted happily.

As the bakery’s owner, Gil was the one who awarded Judy the prize. Those in attendance clapped as she held the chessboard up. From the faces of the crowd, Gil could tell the event had been an enormous success, even without making any money.

“Thank you all for attending. We will be holding another one in a month, weather permitting,” Gil said, standing up.

Cam and several people in attendance came up to Judy to congratulate her on winning. The event also allowed the bakery’s customers to meet each other. When the crowd finally left, Gil felt confident that the tournament coming up in a month would be even better.

“I don’t even know why I bothered. If sis was going to be in it, I don’t think anyone else stood a chance. Except maybe you,” Barry said while they were cleaning up.

“Congratulations on your win,” Gil said, looking over at Judy. “Of course, going forward, I think we might have to limit the competition to those who haven’t yet won.”

“Really!?” Barry said, suddenly gaining interest in the upcoming event.

“Yeah, I’m not sure how fair it is that a person who works at the bakery won either,” Gil reasoned. “But for now, we will allow that.”

“But I won fair and square,” Judy said.

“We know that you did, but if you win every time, I think people might lose interest,” Gil replied.

“I sure would,” Barry said.

“Also, I think if we serve some drinks and food, we could make some money,” Gil stated.

“That was a lot of fun,” Cam said. “So many people.”

“It was. Judy had a good idea,” Gil added. “I also think we will need to do something about how many people it brought in. The bakery’s not big enough for that size of crowd.”

When everything was the way it should be, Gil and Cam accompanied the Holms’ kids back to their house. It was dark, but they all knew the path well enough. Everyone was tired, but it was the good kind of tired as it meant they had all enjoyed themselves.

“How did it go?” William asked.

“There were a lot more people than I thought there would be,” Gil responded.

“I’ll say; we were all crammed into the bakery,” Cam added.

“Yea, next time, I think I need to stagger the starting times for people,” Gil said. “Have them sign up before the actual matches.”

“Judy won it all,” Cam uttered.

“Good for her,” William said, looking over at his boys.

William could tell they had a good time. Something in the living room caught Gil’s attention. It was a large wooden object that took up most of the space. Taking a closer look at it, Gil discovered the ‘The Sweet Bakery’ sign.

“You were busy, I see,” Gil said.

“It’s not quite finished, but I got the basic shapes roughed in,” William replied. “Well, what do you think?”

“It looks like an apple!” Gil exclaimed. “Can you paint it?”

“Paint it? I’ll have to pick up the paint colors in the village next time we’re there,” William said. “It still needs some smoothing out.”

“So I want it to be red, green, and white,” Gil said. “Red for the apple, green for the stem, and white for the words? What do you think?”

Chapter 30: Signs

William looked at the wooden sign and imagined what it would look like painted. Adding colors would almost certainly make the words stand out more. Painting, however, was not something William had done a great deal of in the past.

The sign itself was large enough to cover about a fourth of the roof section of the bakery and took up most of the living room. William had made it in two sections, so they would have to be attached before being placed on the bakery roof.

“When do you think you can have it painted?” Gil asked.

“I don’t know,” William replied, uneasy. “I haven’t ever painted anything but walls. I can try, though.”

“Well, if you think you can do it, here is some money for the paint and to pay you for the woodworking.” Gil placed three silver coins down on the table.

Since the new alcohol business had started, William had cut back his deliveries to the Carpenter’s Guild to every other week. While he blamed that on Cam being too busy to help, the truth was that William found himself growing bored of the life he had been living.

Reaching down, William slid the coins off the table and took them to his room to put into them his money pouch. The boys were so tired, it was a quick meal and then off to bed. William stayed up and worked on the sign some. The following morning, the entire family set out to town together.

As Gil picked up Judy for her day at the bakery, Cam and William walked ahead of them on the path. Breathing in a deep breath of air, Gil directed Pip towards town. A cool breeze told Gil it would soon be apple time.

“Why is everyone with us today?” Judy asked.

“Father made a sign for the bakery. He’s going to pick up some paint for it,” Gil said.

“A sign!” Judy exclaimed. “You did it?”

“Yea, it’s in the shape of an apple. It still needs to be painted, though, but ‘The Sweet Bakery’ is going to be a thing.”

“‘The Sweet Bakery’,” Judy said, trying out the name with a smile.

“Someday, we might just franchise it all over the kingdom,” Gil said. “Can you imagine that?”

“What’s a franchise?” Judy asked, having never heard the word.

“Well, it’s like opening up the same shop in several places,” Gil explained.

“Like what?” Judy asked.

“Imagine being able to go to ‘The Sweet Bakery’ in say, Clearfield or Brighton,” Gil said. “Both locations would serve the same menu items. Everything would be almost identical.”

“I think I understand. So I could get a cinnamon roll in Brighton or Clearfield?” Judy thought the idea over. “It sounds glorious, Gil. When can we do that?”

“Well, it’s just an idea right now. Opening another location would take a lot of money and time. We would need more workers and supplies,” Gil said. “It’s not a simple thing to do.”

While Judy envisioned franchising the bakery all over the kingdom and visiting new places, Gil thought about how much it would cost to open a new location. Having bought out Mrs. Olden here in Brighton, it would be considerably more to open one from scratch. While the bakery did a good business and made money, alcohol was far more profitable.

Soon, the group was at the edge of Brighton. Before long, they had reached the bakery, and Judy and Gil dismounted. Cam and William moved over to Pip and started hooking up the wagon.

“What are you doing?” Gil asked.

“We will need the wagon to bring your bakery sign into the village,” Cam told him.

“Oh, ok. I guess we don’t have any need for it right now,” Gil said, realizing they may eventually need more than one wagon.

“How’s the Adventurer’s Guild shipments doing?” William asked, looking over at the still.

“Good, I make the whiskey, and Cam has been the one running the barrels over to them,” Gil said.

As Gil and Judy went into the bakery, William and Cam went shopping for paint. By the time Barry arrived, everything inside the bakery was going well, and Gil went out to make a batch of whiskey. Measuring out his ingredients, he lit the fire under the machine.

The day passed quickly, and when the shop was clean that afternoon, Gil, Judy, and Barry sat out back talking. Seeing a horse in the distance, they knew Cam was on his way. Gil, looking over at Cam, could see he was excited about something.

“You have to see it, Gil,” Cam said.

“See what?” Barry asked.

“The sign. Father painted it, and it looks really neat.”

“A sign?” Barry asked, confused.

“Yea, Gil had one made for the bakery,” Judy said.

As the four of them made their way home, Cam excitedly talked about the wooden sign and how it had been painted. Dropping Judy and Barry off, the kids said their goodbyes. Gil turned Pip towards home, and the boys were soon there.

“See, Gil,” Cam said.

Gil looked at the large wooden sign William had painted. It was now the colors red, green, and white. The color of the red apple caused the white letters to stand out. Overall, it was everything Gil could have asked for.

“I think you did an excellent job,” Gil said, looking over at William.

“Painting took a little while to get used to, as the shape wasn’t flat, but I figured it out,” William said.

The following morning, the painted sign made its way into Brighton with Gil and Cam. William said he would come into the village later that day and put it up on the building. Judy looked at the sign in the back of the cart.

“That’s the sign?” Judy asked.

“It’s really neat,” Cam remarked.

“Sure is,” Gil said.

“Your father is going to put it on the bakery?” Judy asked.

“I’m going to help,” Cam said.

“Later today,” Gil said.

Reaching Brighton, Gil directed Pip around the bakery. Pulling the cart into the back of the bakery, Judy and Gil dismounted. Cam moved over to unhitch Pip as the others went inside to start work. When he was done, Cam took Pip back to the cabin.

The bakery was busy when William and Cam arrived later that morning. They carefully unloaded the sign. After that, William sent Cam out to get the door overhang. When Cam returned, the two of them, with the help of William’s tools, set about attaching the items to the bakery.

“You went with an apple?” Barry asked.

“I did,” Gil said. “It looks great.”

Inside the shop, an almost unending wave of customers was buying everything they had. Outside, William and Cam were busy trying to attach the sign. As Cam and William worked, they drew the interest of people passing by.

“You’re going to have to hold that steady,” William said.

“I’m trying,” Cam replied. “It’s heavy.”

Once attached to the building, the sign made ‘The Sweet Bakery’ an even more prominent destination. Groups traveling through Brighton would often visit, having heard of it from other travelers. The additional customers meant more work, and Gil found himself working harder than ever.

Similarly, the dragon mark Gil had stamped on the barrels became a symbol people looked for in much the same fashion. The whiskey Gil was making, and the dragon, became synonymous with quality. Cam, who only made the deliveries, found his coin bag heavier than before.

Word quickly spread far and wide about the games and treats The Sweet Bakery offered. Seemingly, everyone wanted to win a game and eat a sweet roll. The days seemed to pass quicker than they had just a few short months before, with so much to do.

Because of those distractions, apple season took Gil somewhat by surprise. The time for harvesting beautiful red apples came with the idea of expanding Gil’s tiny alcohol business. Apples, especially the unripe green ones, could make an apple whiskey.

“With apple season here, we are going to be busy,” Gil said. “I want to try and do as much business as we can before winter hits.”

“What does that mean for us?” Barry asked.

“If you can, you should start getting here earlier,” Gil answered.

“What can I do?” Judy asked.

“I’m not sure if there is anything more you can do. I would say make sure we have enough product on hand,” Gil said.

Gil had several ideas for using the apple harvest to create new, delicious baked goods. Expanding the menu to include apple pie and other apple-related desserts was high on that list. Judy was all for this and even had a couple of recipes already in mind that they could use.

Dropping Judy off one day after work, Gil followed her up to the door and knocked. As usual, Mrs. Holms answered the door. Looking into the kind lady’s eyes, Gil steadied himself.

“I would like to talk to Mr. Holms,” Gil said.

“You’re in luck,” Mrs. Holms replied. “He’s in his study. Please come inside.”

Stepping into the home, Gil made his way to Mr. Holms’ study. Peering inside, he could see the form of Mr. Holm’s looking out at the apple orchard. Breathing a deep sigh, Gil moved forward into the room.

“Mr. Holms,” Gil said.

“Ah, I’ve been expecting you this year,” Mr. Holms replied. “What’s it to be? How many baskets of apples do you want?”

“This year, I want to talk about the green apples that fall early or don’t make the harvest,” Gil said.

“The green apples?” Mr. Holms questioned. “Those are usually just wasted. Most go to the birds.”

“I want to buy them,” Gil said.

“You what? Do you want to buy the green ones? Mr. Holms seemed stunned.

“As many as I can get,” Gil said.

Regaining his composure, Mr. Holms at first thought Gil was crazy. Then he remembered how the boy had surprised him in the past. Biting his tongue, Mr. Holms thought about what Gil had asked.

“You want to buy all the green apples I can supply you with? This late in the season, I’m not sure how many I can get.”

“Yes, next year, if all goes well, we can do the same,” Gil said.

It was true Gil had been so busy with other business matters that he had waited far longer than he should have to ask. Mr. Holms made a clicking sound with his tongue, as if he were trying to figure out what the green apples could be used for. Coming up with nothing, he looked over at Gil.

“So you want to buy them all? All the green apples,” Mr. Holms asked.

“Yes, and in addition, I can take any damaged apples you have,” Gil said. “I am planning on making some apple whiskey.”

“Alcohol?” Mr. Holms said, shocked.

Alcohol made by the tiny boy in front of him seemed far too impossible. Looking over at Gil, Mr. Holms thought for a moment that Gil might be pulling a prank on him. No, that wasn’t possible. They were not that close.

“Yes, I started an alcohol business, and it has been doing quite well. I was thinking of adding on a seasonal apple whiskey.”

The idea that apples could be turned into alcohol surprised Mr. Holms. The uses for apples in baking and the like were well known, but the concept was novel as alcohol. Thinking over whether it would work, he had to admit that he wanted to try some himself.

“I would be willing to pay some money for them, of course,” Gil said. “Say, two coppers a basket?”

Mr. Holms had been getting nothing for the green and damaged apples up to this point. Any amount, even one so small, was pure profit he had been ignoring. Thinking the boy’s offer over, he saw only advantages.

“I think we can do that,” Mr. Holms said.

“I would also like to order twice as many baskets of the ripe apples as I did last year.”

An order of ten baskets of apples was a good-sized order, and it would help keep the price high in the market. Mr. Holms, who had only a couple of years earlier considered Gil nothing but a nuisance, now saw him as one of his biggest customers.

Their agreement was inked on paper. While it wasn’t enforceable like a merchant contract, it was far more official than in the past. Gil looked over the paper and felt it was favorable to both parties.

Having two full-time businesses, Gil was thankfully excused from the apple harvest. Barry and Cam, two of his employees, however, were not. Even though they didn’t want to participate, Barry had no choice, seeing as it was his family’s orchard. For Cam, it was more pressure from William to help out their neighbor.

“Working for your brother is a lot better deal than being out here,” Barry said.

“I know,” Cam replied. “The pay’s better too.

With some of the staff gone, it left only Judy and Gil to take care of the shop’s customers. Skipping the harvest proved helpful for Gil, as he avoided overexerting himself. It also allowed the bakery to continue running.

Chapter 31: Liquid Gold

When the harvest was over, Tom, working full time with his father, found himself making apple deliveries. One of those deliveries brought him to the bakery. Going in the front door, Tom stood out like a sore thumb. The clothes he wore were dirty from the work he had been doing.

Seeing his brother up front, Barry ducked into the back and whispered to Gil, “Tom’s up there.”

Gil moved up to the front of the store. Seeing Tom, he could see that Mr. Holms worked the boy hard. Tom’s appearance was that of an outdoor farmer.

“Can you take our delivery to the back, please?” Gil asked.

“Sure thing, squirt,” Tom said, looking over at Gil.

Tom left the front of the shop, and the sound of the bell brought Judy to the counter. Watching through the window, she saw Tom climb up onto his wagon. Judy looked over at Gil, worried.

“What was Tom doing here?” Judy asked.

“Yea, what did he want?” Barry asked.

“He’s making deliveries for your father. I ordered a lot of apples this season,” Gil said, with a slight sigh.

“Tom’s delivering apples? I’ve got to see this,” Barry said, moving to the back door.

Gil, followed by Judy, also went in that direction. Barry already had the back propped open when they got there. Gil stepped through to the back area while Judy watched from the doorway. It was an awkward situation, but Gil had to face it like a businessman.

Tom, getting down from the delivery wagon, moved over. “I have ten baskets of ripe apples and four baskets of green and damaged ones.”

“Only fourteen baskets in total?” Gil asked, sounding somewhat disappointed.

“That’s correct,” Tom said. “What do you want those old green ones and yuck ones for anyway?”

“I'm going to make some apple whiskey,” Gil said, motioning over to the alcohol still.

“Alcohol?” Tom looked over at the machine.

Moving back over to the wagon, Tom dropped the back gate and slid a couple of baskets over to the end. Reaching up, he grabbed the first one, a basket of red apples. Moving the baskets was hard work, and Gil thought about asking Barry to help.

“The red ones should go inside,” Gil said. “We’ll use them for baking.”

“I was already inside, and you said to come back here,” Tom protested.

“Just inside the back doorway,” Gil said. “It’s where we store the products we use.”

“Make sure you don’t drop any,” Barry said with a grin, having moved out to supervise his brother.

“I won’t.”

Tom shot Barry an ‘I’ll get you later’ look as he carried the first basket into the back of the bakery. Judy pointed to the table once he was inside. Tom moved over that way and placed the first basket down on it. As Tom turned, Judy moved over to the basket to look over the apples.

“They’re all there,” Tom said, seeing his sister look at them.

“Part of my job is making sure our deliveries have everything they are supposed to,” Judy said, not looking up from the apples she was looking over.

“Well, they are all there,” Tom growled.

Gil had followed him in and moved over to Judy’s side. Tom went back outside to grab the next basket. Holding another basket of apples, Tom could see that one was full of green ones.

“The green ones go over here,” Barry said, directing Tom to a section of the back area.

Tom repeated the process several times, stopping to catch his breath occasionally. Barry, seeing the condition Tom was in, grinned at him. Tom had picked on Barry and the other kids all through the harvest. It was good to see him doing the hard work instead.

“If you just keep unloading, you’ll get done faster,” Barry said, remembering how Tom had said the same thing to him only days before.

Tom looked over at his younger brother with a scowl on his face. Gil, who had moved back out, had to stop himself from laughing. Tom was getting the same treatment he had given the others. Gil, having ordered so many, was Tom’s most challenging stop.

The bell in the bakery sounded, and Barry reluctantly went inside to help Judy tend to a customer. Gil supervised the rest of the delivery, focusing primarily on looking over the damaged apples. When Tom was finally done, he looked over at Gil, holding out his hand for the money.

“Looks like five silvers and eight coppers,” Gil said, counting up the baskets before reaching into his pouch.

Being almost half a gold coin, it was a great deal of money, and Tom looked over at Gil glaringly. Being older than Gil, he realized just how far apart their wealth was. Gil handed him the money without batting an eye. Tom took the coins and placed them in his leather pouch.

“Thank you,” Gil said.

“Holms’ Orchard thanks you,” Tom said robotically, having been instructed to say that to all the orchard’s customers.

The delivery of the apples set off a flurry of work at the bakery. For Judy, that was using the apples in new samples, and for Gil, it was experimenting with making an apple whiskey. Making things harder, Gil’s trial and error batches had to be coordinated between making regular batches for the Adventurer’s Guild. Not knowing how many apples it would take and only having a limited supply of them, Gil set to work to balance the two. Sorting through the green apples, he found some damaged apples mixed in.

Grabbing a bucket from inside the bakery, Gil started doing some work. Using a paring knife, he cut off the bad spots and sliced the apples as thin as he could manage. Gil’s past woodworking skills were being put to good use as cutting the apple slices was a lot of work.

Being careful not to slice himself, Gil worked blazingly fast. When he finished using the cut-up pieces, Gil set up the still to run a batch of apple whiskey. Wisely, he started making half-batches instead of full ones. It was a lesson Gil had learned while experimenting to make the regular whiskey.

Going inside the bakery, Gil checked what Barry and Judy were doing. They were both hard at work peeling some of the red apples. It was early afternoon, and their rush of customers was over.

“What are you making?” Gil asked.

“I’m going to make some items with the apples and see which ones we like best,” Judy said.”

“I’m helping,” Barry said.

“Sounds good,” Gil replied. “If you two have it, I’ll go outside.”

“We do,” Barry said.

Judy would make the sample deserts, and Barry would cook them. They were a good team. Returning outside, Gil moved over to the alcohol still and reached down to light the fire.

An hour passed, and Gil could smell the cooked apples outside. Looking over at the glass jar, he waited for his batch of whiskey to start. Running the still was a lot of work, followed by a lot of waiting around.

Eventually, the jar was half full, and the dripping solution had not yet started to speed up. Watching and waiting, Gil sat there. Judy opened the back door and brought out a treat for Gil to try.

It was Judy’s version of apple pie. Taking a bite of the warm dessert, Gil nodded. The sweet apple flavors met his mouth, and he looked over at her.

“That’s it!” Gil said. “You got it on the first try.”

“It’s something Mother makes.”

With apple pie added to the bakery’s menu, all that was left was to get the correct recipe for the apple whiskey. The first batch was close but not what Gil had wanted. Carefully, he poured it into the half barrel so the Metal Worker’s Guild could try it.

Adjusting his recipe, Gil would try again the next day. It took a couple of days, but eventually, Gil got the apple whiskey he wanted. Having started it a little late in the season, Gil’s apple whiskey was a limited product, and he knew he would have to begin sooner the next year.

When the recipe was right, the boys took the small barrel home for William to try. Instead of hiding it, Gil had Cam place it directly on the table. William, seeing the barrel, moved over to it.

“What’s this?” William asked.

“It’s a new recipe,” Gil said. “I made some apple whiskey.”

“Really?” William asked. “Apple whiskey? Cam, why don’t you get us some glasses.”

William filled his glass full, only giving the boys a sip to taste. Raising the glass to his mouth, William took a drink. The flavors that hit him were terrific.

“It’s sweet?” Cam commented as he drank some. “I like this better than the regular whiskey.”

“This is delicious,” Gil said.

Taking a sip from his glass reminded Gil of hard apple cider, which was popular back in his world. It was a lot smoother than the whiskey he had been making and was something Gil himself could enjoy. The fall apple taste caused Gil to close his eyes and grin.

The apple whiskey was entirely different from the alcohol available in the kingdom. Most of the alcohol sold in Vale was bitter and roughly distilled. From what he had heard of dwarven ales, they had some sweet undertones but were nothing like his.

It had been a whole year since Gil had acquired a business license, so he went to the Merchant’s Guild to renew it. Paying the two gold taxes owed from the previous year, he was also required to pay an additional silver deposit. Looking over the tax rate chart that came with the license, Gil could see that they had increased the max amount to three gold instead of two.

Looking over at the contract line, Gil was happy to see Luna. I wonder where she was the other day. Gil reluctantly walked towards the entrance with no reason to use that line.

Placing the new business license into his coin pouch, he sighed. That’s another gold I’m losing next year. The lord of the territory, Lord Drace, and the tax collector, Grober, were squeezing the merchants for everything they could get. However, Gil could do nothing about it if he wanted to stay in business.

Reports of people, primarily people of short stature, faking Adventurer’s Guild memberships to use the bar became the talk of the town. It had gotten so bad that the guild had hired a second bouncer to help with the problem. The entire thing was funny to Gil, as it just showed how successful his businesses had become.

A couple of days after Gil had brought the brew home, William went into Brighton with Cam. Walking into the back behind the bakery, he saw Gil working with the still. Gil looked up and saw William, so he motioned him over.

“Now, make sure you tell them this is a seasonal specialty brew when selling it,” Gil said.

“I know,” William replied.

“As this is a once-a-season brew, we need to charge more for it,” Gil added.

“How much more?” William asked.

“I don’t know,” Gil admitted. “That’s all going to be up to you. The cost per barrel wasn’t that much more to produce. It's rare, being the only alcohol of its kind in the kingdom. I think four silvers per barrel might be about right.”

“Four silvers! Double the cost?” William stuttered.

“Well, I don’t know where they would get any other,” Gil added. “And you said it yourself that you thought we undervalued the original recipe.”

“That’s true. But, four silvers is a lot,” William said with a sigh.

William hadn’t thought of it that way, but it made sense. If they were the only place with the alcohol, it was a scarce commodity. The rarer something was, the more it impacted costs.

“Ok, then I will take a sample and sell it,” William said.

“I only have the small barrel ready right now,” Gil replied.

William nodded and looked at the small barrel. It was only about a dozen mugs at best, size-wise. The larger barrels were easily thirty mugs or more, depending on the size of the glasses. How Gil described the apple whiskey made William wonder if he could sell it.

It was a refreshing drink, but four silver per barrel was a lot to ask. There was no need to take Pip to the Adventurer’s Guild with him that time. The smaller barrel he was carrying was easily manageable, and the trip was short. Walking down the streets of Brighton, William nodded and waved at the people he passed.

They all waved back and smiled at him. It had become like that. No matter where William went in town, people would acknowledge him somehow. It reminded William of the old days when he would be mobbed by crowds in Kingstown wherever he went.

Fame had fortunately been fleeting for him, but it had made a slight comeback with Gil’s alcohol business. While William had hated all the attention in the past, he found the new fame to be something he enjoyed. It had been a facet of his life that he had never thought he wanted until it was gone.

Chapter 32: Trouble Brewing

Nearing the guild, William could see a queue had formed to get in. Moving in behind the last person, a dwarf, William took a spot in line. Slowly, the individuals ahead of him were helped, and he moved forward. Soon it was the dwarf’s turn.

The dwarf handed over a stone to be checked and looked around nervously. The machine turned green and printed a single page of information. Olive grabbed the paper and looked over it suspiciously before nodding and allowing him entry.

Watching the dwarf move over to the bar area, Olive frowned as she looked at the next person. Seeing William, her expression immediately turned friendly, and she motioned him forward. William obliged and stepped up to the counter with his ID stone in hand.

“Haven’t seen you in a while. I won’t be needing your stone, William. You're free to go in,” Olive said, shooing him away.

“Thank you,” William replied. “You seem kinda busy.”

“It’s that alcohol of yours, it's been both a blessing and a curse,” Olive said. “The dwarves can’t get enough of it. We have even had an issue with counterfeit ID stones.”

“That’s possible?” William asked.

“Well, it seems so, of course, the smarter ones just join the guild and never go on any quests,” Olive added. “We are going to have an astounding number of new members to turn in this month.”

William chuckled as he moved past reception and over to the bar. Once there, he placed the tiny barrel on the counter. Looking over the area, William could see it was a busy place compared to how it had been during his first visit. George looked up, and seeing William, he headed over that way.

“So, what brings you in?” George asked.

“Well, I have a seasonal specialty brew. My boy’s calling it ‘apple whiskey,’” William said.

“Apple whiskey?” George questioned. “Can’t say I have ever heard of making whiskey with apples before. Is it any good?”

“I can guarantee you have never tasted anything like this,” William added. “It’s even better than the regular whiskey.”

“Now you’ve got me curious,” George said, reaching to grab a couple of mugs. Turning back, George placed the cups on the counter.

“Hey barkeep, another round for me and my boys,” came a loud voice from one of the tables.

“I’ll be right back,” George said, clicking his tongue. “Pour us some of that apple stuff while I’m gone.”

William nodded and looked over at the table. Seated around it were five people of short stature, enjoying drinks. It was an odd sight to see, as William had only known a couple of dwarven adventurers in all his travels. To have five of them sitting at a table seemed impossible.

George served the table another round as William watched them grab their glass mugs and start into them. It would have been less out of place had it been five humans or even elves. William chuckled some, thinking they were there just for his whiskey.

“Ok, what were you saying? Something about apples?” George asked, returning to his spot behind the bar.

“This is some of the finest alcohol in the entire kingdom. Sadly, it’s only around once a year, but I think you’ll agree it's worth the wait,” William said.

“Once a year, huh? It doesn’t look all that special,” George said, grabbing the mug. “It’s a little darker than your regular brew.”

William was worried about the four silver per barrel cost Gil had set, so he was laying it on thick. Still, the whiskey was quality, and nothing he had said was false. It was one of the finest alcohols in the kingdom.

George lifted the mug to his nose and breathed in. The scent of apples overtook his senses, and he nodded before taking a sip. George savored the taste of the whiskey, sloshing it around in his mouth. It was unlike anything he had ever had before. It was crisp and sweet, with more than just a hint of apples.

“It really does have an apple taste,” George said, surprised. “Almost like a fresh cider. It’s sweet and sour instead of bitter. I quite like that. You keep bringing us alcohol like this, and we’re going to get spoiled.”

“It sure does. Not only that, but it’s just easy to drink.”

The beverage George had drunk was as if someone had made an apple straight into a liquid. Shocked, George placed the mug back down on the counter. Lowering his head, he looked closely at the mug to discover its secret, as if examining the liquid.

When his voice finally returned to him, George said, “I’ve never had anything like it. It’s marvelous. Hubert has got to try this. I’ll be right back.”

With that, George disappeared into the door behind him and entered the storage area of the guild. William sipped his apple whiskey and waited. It was a shame it would only be a once-a-year brew as it was so good.

Eventually, Hubert and George returned to the bar area. George grabbed another glass and placed it down in front of William. After filling the glass, William handed it over to Hubert. Reaching out in front of him, Hubert took a sip. Immediately, his eyes widened, and a grin crept across his face.

“That’s quite something you’ve got there. I haven’t had anything like it before. It is an alcoholic drink, right?” Hubert asked, finishing his glass.

“It's just as much alcohol as the regular whiskey we sell you,” William said confidently, refilling Hubert’s cup.

Hubert took a drink and then another. “How much is this magic elixir going to cost me?” Hubert asked, a little worry on his face.

“Well, for a full-size barrel, we’ll need four silvers,” William said.

Hubert’s face regained its composure. Four silver for an entire barrel of the drink like the one he had just had was more than fair. They could easily double the cost per mug to make up the difference.

“I see. Any chance of going lower?” Hubert asked, putting on a stern face.

“No, not on this one. It’s limited on the number of barrels and only made once a year,” William said.

While William was sure Gil’s price wasn't set in stone, he had caught the worried look from Hubert. Though the price had seemed outrageous at first, William was suddenly wondering if it was too low. If they kept adding new brews to the collection, they would need to reconsider their starting prices.

“Four silvers, and we are only doing that for you because you’ve been a good customer,” William added.

Hubert nodded. “How many barrels can we get?”

“It’s a limited seasonal brew, so we only have four barrels available this year,” William said. “If all goes well, we will double that number next year.”

The small number of available barrels put Hubert into deep thought. If the deal fell through, for any reason, the chances the Adventurer’s Guild would be able to get this seasonal concoction again were probably never. Breathing in, he slowly nodded his head.

“We’ll take all you have then,” Hubert said. “Additionally, I want to place a standing order for the same number of barrels next year and the year after.”

It was William’s turn to be shocked. Not only had he sold every barrel they had of the apple whiskey, but he had done so for two years into their future. With deals like that, William was certain they needed to expand.

“I don’t have the barrels with me today, but I could add them to your next delivery.”

“That would be fine,” Hubert said, reaching out and pouring himself another glass.

What had started as a side business for Gil was making far more money than the bakery. Gil's accomplishments in his new alcohol business did not go unnoticed by Grober. Up to that point, Grober had been the only alcohol manufacturer in Brighton.

Grober’s ale, as it was commonly called, for the first time, had a local competitor. Grober scratched his chin and looked over his sales figures. The Adventurer’s Guild, who had never been great customers, had gone from ordering five or six barrels a month to zero.

It wasn’t a huge loss, at least not yet, but if other locations did the same, he could be in real trouble. In addition to the sales drop, rumors were circulating about the quality of Grober’s ale. Additionally, he had noticed a lack of dwarves, his best customers, stopping by The Darkroot Tavern.

“Where is everyone?” Grober asked his bartender.

“I don’t know. We’ve been slower than usual, that’s for sure,” the bartender replied.

Gil, who was making a regular batch of whiskey behind the bakery, had heard most of the rumors circulating about Grober’s ale. A popular one making the rounds was that drinking it could make a person completely blind. Gil did know that if one didn't prepare their alcohol properly, blindness was a possibility. Of course, another rumor was that Grober watered down his alcohol so much that it was all water and no booze.

With the contradicting rumors, Gil wasn't sure what to think. Besides, it wasn’t any of his business. Being far too busy with his work to focus on such babble, he lit the fire below the small still. It was getting cooler outside, and he wondered how much longer it would be before he needed his winter coat.

As the cold weather set in, Gil knew he had to create a plan of what to do when he couldn't travel into Brighton. In the world he had come from, businesses were expected to open regardless of the weather. However, here, things were different.

Gil knew he had no choice but to close the bakery during the lousy weather. Snow would most likely affect the standard order with the Adventurer’s Guild. Compounded with the impending trip to Kingstown, it was starting to put a lot of stress on him.

The additional stress seemed to be causing Gil’s childish outbursts to happen more often. It concerned him greatly, as they were outside of his control. Gil was beginning to become nervous. How am I supposed to run two businesses if I can't control myself?

When the family was sitting down for dinner the next night, Gil looked over at William. The year had brought a lot of changes for them. Cam had grown more responsible and had his own bank account. William seemed to have accepted his title, at least in Brighton.

“When winter comes, what should we do for the bakery and alcohol business?” Gil asked.

“What do you mean?” William replied.

“Well there will likely be days we can't go to town,” Gil said.

“We don't have any control over that,” William said. “The Adventurer's Guild understands winter, they have even been known to shut down.”

“Really?” Gil said, relieved.

“If we can't go to town, most of the other people around can't. I think you’re worrying about nothing. Though I would take some precautions to protect the alcohol still as it's outside.”

“I understand," Gil said. "I'll think up something to protect it from the snow.”

“That would be good, we don't want our equipment breaking.”

The next morning, outside Judy's home, Gil waited on Pip for her to climb on. The talk he had with William caused him to remember that he needed to tell his employees of the bakery's winter rules. Once Judy was behind him and comfortable, Gil started for Brighton.

“If there’s ever snow on the ground, we won’t open that day,” Gil told Judy. “It's just too risky with how far we travel.”

“I understand,” Judy said, with a sigh.

“If it's really bad, it could be days at a time. If that happens, we will just do the best we can when we’re able to go back.”

Judy didn't like the idea of not being able to see Gil for days at a time. However, she knew that things like the weather were out of her hands. Hugging Gil tight, she didn't want them ever to be separated.

Gil hoped it would be another mild winter as the bakery and brewing businesses proved to be good sources of income. Unfortunately, the memories of his first winter still haunted him. The reality that they might have to shut down for a month or more sat at the back of his mind.

The impending winter seemed to dampen everyone’s mood and brought fewer sales for the bakery. For the first time, the lines of customers were nonexistent. It wasn’t that they were dead business-wise. It was just that they were much slower than they had been.

“Hey, I changed up the recipe for the standard loaves,” Judy said.

“You what?” Gil asked.

“Yea, if we add just a little milk to them, which we can get delivered every day to us, the bread is softer and flakier,” Judy said.

Trying some, Gil looked over Judy. “Just make sure you add the changes to the master recipes,” Gil said. “If we ever open a new location, we want them making everything the same as we do.”

“Oh, I also made a change to the sweet rolls. They don’t need as much sugar as they originally called for if we cut back on the salt,” Judy said.

Judy had a real knack for refining the bakery’s recipes with fewer ingredients. Taking another bite of the bread she had made, Gil nodded. It wasn’t just better. It was the best bread he could remember having. In addition to the changes Judy made, her new creations were also delicious, and Gil wanted to add them all to the menu.

“Maybe we can do some seasonal treats for winter. Something not sweet?” Gil said.

“I will have to think about that,” Judy replied.

Chapter 33: Luna’s New Job

Luna arrived early at the Merchant’s Guild. Beginning her morning tasks, she carried her change drawer to her window. Arriving at the spot she usually worked, Luna found Mr. Stevens standing beside her.

Having your boss watch your every move is not something any employee likes, and Mr. Stevens always made her nervous. It wasn’t because of how he acted, but because she knew, being an elf, she was at his mercy regarding her job. Everywhere she’d worked, it had always been that way. Luna did her best to ignore his presence.

Continuing the task Luna was doing, she only looked up briefly, acknowledging Mr. Stevens was there. Locking her drawer safely under the counter, Luna noticed that Mr. Stevens hadn’t moved. Looking over in his direction, she saw him motion her closer.

“When you finish opening up your section, please meet me in my office,” Mr. Stevens said.

“Of course,” Luna replied.

Getting called into Mr. Stevens’ office usually was a bad thing. It meant the employee had done something wrong. Mr. Stevens’ way of managing was not very hands-on unless there was a problem. Then he would micromanage everything personally.

Luna thought over everything she had recently done but couldn't think of any mistakes. The other Merchant’s Guild workers had been watching the interaction with pity. Well, all of them except Herman, who never liked elves and had been trying his best to get Luna into trouble or fired.

Herman wore a large smile, thinking Mr. Stevens had finally come to his senses. As far as he was concerned, elves were the root cause of the kingdom’s troubles. They and their kind were not fit for a decent society and should have been left in the forest.

“Looks like someone might be getting in trouble,” Herman said as Luna passed his desk on the way to Mr. Stevens’ office.

“Maybe it’s a good thing,” Luna said.

Even Luna didn’t believe that, but she wasn’t about to give Herman or anyone else the satisfaction of seeing her upset. The thought of being fired had crossed her mind, not because she was a lousy employee but because she was the only elf in the entire building. Luna had heard stories of elves being fired for nothing else than simply being elves.

While unfair, it was just the way the kingdom operated. Confident in her skills, Luna doubted that was the reason. Mr. Stevens, though she found the man odd, had only been kind to her since she had arrived in Brighton.

Entering the room, Luna could see that Mr. Stevens was standing over at the side, looking through a large bookcase. It contained what Luna would guess to be at least a hundred thick volumes. Glancing that way, she could see that many of the books were old merchant records.

“Come in, please, and close the door behind you,” Mr. Stevens said.

“Yes, sir.”

Mr. Stevens, who did the actual hiring for the Merchant’s Guild, would have never hired Luna had he known she was an elf. The hiring of Luna, put quite simply, was a simple clerical mistake. Easily fixable when her contract came up for renewal.

Luna, however, had proven to be a competent employee. Something Mr. Stevens dearly valued, far more than one’s race. As such, he saw her addition to the guild’s workforce as a blessing, not as the potential curse it could have been.

“I’ll be with you shortly,” Mr. Stevens said without turning around.

In the eyes of some humans, elves were not to be trusted. There was nothing Mr. Stevens or anyone could do to change that fact. For that reason, he had given Luna the role of dealing with contracts. Merchants almost exclusively used that line, and they, at least in his eyes, were far more familiar with the different races found in the kingdom.

When she first arrived, Mr. Stevens had tried to welcome her into the Merchant’s Guild as best he could. Unlike many, he didn’t hate elves or even think much about them. In many ways, she reminded Mr. Stevens of the time he had spent in Kingstown, a time he looked back on fondly.

Being a bank manager, to Mr. Stevens, the measure of a person was not in their race but in the money they had. While Luna had a very modest amount in the bank, elves live extraordinarily long lives, giving them ample opportunity to add more. Mr. Stevens was an intelligent man, and he saw potential in Luna, especially with her work ethic.

Luna looked about the room. Having only been in Mr. Stevens’ office a time or two before, she could see it was the largest in the building. Having taken a chair, she waited for Mr. Stevens to finish whatever he was doing.

There was a particular book Mr. Stevens was looking for and had not yet found it. Luna watched the back of Mr. Stevens for a moment. Pulling a book out from the shelf, Mr. Stevens took it over to his desk and laid it down.

“The reason I called you in here today is that I have an offer for you,” Mr. Stevens said, looking over at her.

“An offer?” Luna asked, surprised.

Luna’s mind whirled at what ‘an offer’ could mean. Though she had been at the Merchant’s Guild for over a year, her interactions with Mr. Stevens had been far and few between. For the most part, he had left her alone, making this meeting all the more curious.

“Yes, a business offer. You were born in Kingstown, is that correct?” Mr. Stevens asked.

Mr. Stevens already knew the answer to the question as he had her application on his desk. Still, to be thorough, he felt it necessary to ask. In his eyes, that was just a formality. For Luna, it was different. While it was common for humans not to tell an elf’s age from appearance alone, it was still offensive that he thought she could be so old as to have been born in the iron forest.

Mr. Stevens, of course, hadn’t considered that, and even if he had, it wouldn’t have mattered. Being a businessman, he had to follow specific procedures. Looking over at the elf, he waited for a response.

Luna breathed out a little sigh. “That’s correct. I was born and raised in Kingstown,” Luna said. “I lived there with my parents.”

“Perfect. Is it also true that you were an adventurer for a while?” Mr. Stevens asked.

“Yes, for twenty years, I worked as an adventurer,” Luna answered. “Mostly around Kingstown.”

“Perfect, I have a job that requires the skills of an adventurer.”

“What?” Luna asked, shocked.

“The pay would be much better than what you currently make, and the guild would still employ you during that time. So you wouldn’t be losing your job here or anything,” Mr. Stevens explained.

If one was an adventurer, they were an adventurer for life. So, regardless of whether they left the profession for an hour or hundreds of years, they were still, under the law, considered an adventurer. It was not uncommon for retired adventurers to work for other guilds or do odd jobs.

Strictly speaking, though, it was illegal for an adventurer to take adventure work outside the Adventurer’s Guild. That was the ‘King’s Law,’ and no adventurer would break that. However, the Merchant’s Guild held an exception to that rule, making matters more complicated.

“What kind of job is it?” Luna asked.

The book Mr. Stevens had been looking for listed all the guild’s circumstances, allowing for just that. Instead of answering Luna, Mr. Stevens opened the thick volume he had found. The leather-bound book was a code of conduct for the Merchant’s Guild. It contained numerous laws and bylaws, which the guild followed.

“It’s here somewhere,” Mr. Stevens said.

Flipping forward a few pages, Mr. Stevens stopped at the rules for hiring special-talent personnel. The section titled: ‘Protection of valuable resources’ caught Mr. Stevens’ gaze. Moving through the words rapidly, he came to the relevant part. Underlining the words with his finger, he spoke.

“The Merchant’s Guild at its sole discretion may bypass the usual methods for hiring those gifted with certain skills. Namely, for the protection and transport of valuable guild resources,” Mr. Stevens said.

Luna raised her eyebrows, trying to think of what kind of job Mr. Stevens was offering.

“In the name of secrecy, this action may bypass all other regular methods and manners needing to be followed. Specifically, but not limited to the need to go through the Adventurer’s Guild for hiring such personnel,” Mr. Stevens read.

Luna tilted her head to one side, digesting the words Mr. Stevens had read.

“That means that I can hire you for a particular job. It would primarily be protecting a valuable guild asset.” Mr. Stevens said.

“An asset?” Luna questioned. “What would I be protecting? And what exactly is the job and the pay?”

Having no idea what the job might entail, Luna was hesitant. However, she desperately needed the funds. Working as an apprentice at the Merchant’s Guild was a low-paying position.

Having used up her savings and the money she had made from selling her swords, Luna was now living pay period to pay period. Due to that, she had already made up her mind before asking any questions about the offer.

“Well, you may be unaware, but a young man named Gil West entered into a contract with a merchant named Roland. That contract created something called ‘chess.’ It’s a popular game.”

Luna's eyes widened. “I have heard of it, but I don’t know anything about it.”

“It’s so popular, the king himself has ordered one,” Mr. Stevens said.

“The king?” Luna questioned.

“Yes, King Leopold. To that end, we have been tasked with making an exceptional version of the game. When that is finished, it will have to be transported to Kingstown. To the castle.” Mr. Stevens paused, trying to find the right words.

“You want me to protect the game?” Luna asked.

“No, this would be a bodyguard mission. That young boy, Gil West, has proven to be a valuable asset to the guild, and he would be the one you are protecting,” Mr. Stevens continued.

“The boy? Not the chess set?” Luna questioned.

“Correct,” Mr. Stevens said. “The set, though extremely valuable, would be replaceable if anything happened. The boy, well, not so much.”

Luna scratched the back of her head, “So I need to protect the boy.”

“Yes,” Mr. Stevens replied. “At all costs.”

Mr. Stevens was stretching the definition of ‘guild asset’ somewhat. However, he saw Gil as the person who could get him out of his current assignment in Brighton and back to Kingstown. To him, that was the very definition of an asset.

“First and foremost, you would be protecting Gil West. Secondly, if possible, you would be protecting the rest of the passengers and, lastly, their precious cargo.” Mr. Stevens said.

“The boy first, and the rest second,” Luna said.

“Indeed, in that order,” Mr. Stevens replied.

Luna nodded as she thought over the job offer. Bodyguard work could be challenging, but it was not uncommon for adventurers. Luna had done that type of work more than once, and it usually paid well. Besides, how hard could protecting one small child be?

“The pay?” Luna questioned.

“Yes, the guild is willing to offer you a silver coin a day during the trip in addition to your regular apprentice pay. It could take anywhere from ten to fourteen days,” Mr. Stevens said.

Luna nodded and a faint smile formed on her lips.

“The guild will be providing one of our coaches. Additionally, you will be excused from your in-house duties to help with all the details.”

“I think that sounds like a good idea. Using a Merchant coach,” Luna said. “But what kind of details?”

“The boy in question lives as a commoner, so he and his brother have no idea of proper royal etiquette. They will also need suitable attire for the meeting,” Mr. Stevens said with a sigh.

“That goes beyond protection work.”

“Precisely, Gil and Roland have both been invited to the castle for a luncheon with the king.”

“But Roland’s not from the kingdom,” Luna said, surprised.

“I know, apparently, this king does things differently,” Mr. Stevens said. “So, as you can see, there are unusual circumstances. While not your typical adventuring tasks, I have been told elves have a good grasp of style and proper royal etiquette. You will be undercover, of sorts, on the trip, going as the Merchant’s Guild representative.”

Luna narrowed her eyes.

“That means you are to document everything regarding the trip, especially any information the others bring back after visiting the king. As an elf, you will, of course, be unable to go to the castle, but that's fine as the guild representative wasn't invited officially anyway,” Mr. Stevens said.

Luna nodded her head.

“Your report is expected to include every detail. For instance, the creation of the chess set should include what materials are used, the cost and time it takes, and anything else you deem noteworthy about it. The Merchant’s Council wants to know everything.”

Luna followed along, her expression changing to a slight frown.

“You are their eyes and ears during this time. You will be with the boy from start to finish, like a shadow, protecting him and gaining as much information from the group going on the trip. Usually, it’s a position reserved for someone with a little more experience, like your coworker, Herman. Still, your other special talents make you a far better choice under the circumstances,” Mr. Stevens finished.

Luna’s smile changed to a big grin as she realized she would be taking Herman's spot on the trip.

Herman’s bigoted behavior towards her had always been less than friendly. That fact alone was enough reason to take the job, but everything about it sounded like it would be an easy task. Mr. Stevens was relieved to see Luna’s reaction.

“It all sounds good,” Luna said.

“I will have a proper contract drawn up and ready by tomorrow.”

Chapter 34: Old Habits

The plans Mr. Stevens had worked on were starting to come together. If everything went according to his version, he might very well be back in Kingstown in less than a year. That thought brought him some comfort.

“Here she comes,” Herman said. “So, how did the scolding go?”

“What?” Luna said, barely glancing in Herman’s direction.

Luna was wearing a smile that set the other workers abuzz with gossip. Herman, who had seen the expression, gave her disapproving glances from his desk. By noon, rumors were circulating.

“Have you heard?” Evie said to another coworker. “Luna, the elf, she’s been promoted.”

Herman, who happened to overhear the two of them, interrupted. “That’s not what I heard. I think Mr. Stevens and the elf are romantically involved.”

“What?” Evie said, not believing it.

The story about an office romance was short-lived, as no other employee could visualize such a pairing. Mr. Stevens was far too straight-laced for anything like that. Like all elves, Luna had exceptional hearing. The surrounding whispers made her want to laugh out loud.

If they believed she had been promoted, Luna would act the part by changing her mannerisms to those of a supervisor. It was always best to keep your current job a secret during adventuring work. Sometimes, that could mean the difference between life and death.

“Here’s that report you wanted. Someday, you never know, you might be working for me,” Luna said to Herman, placing a paper on his desk.

“Not, yet I’m not,” Herman growled back, snatching the page and stopping what he was doing to look it over.

The office day passed quickly as Luna was excited about the new job. Eventually, it ended much like it always did, with Luna waiting patiently while the contents of her cash drawer were counted. When everything was confirmed to be in perfect order, Luna was excused from work and on her own time once more.

“That’s another day,” Samantha said.

Evie nodded happily. “See you tomorrow.”

One of the nice things about working for the Merchant’s Guild was the hours. Having been an adventurer before, Luna knew those hours were all day, every day. Adventurers couldn’t let their guard down.

It was late afternoon when Luna left the Merchant’s Guild, giving her plenty of time to do other things. Having given up the adventuring life, Luna needed equipment for her new job. A short walk found Luna at the reception desk inside the Adventurer’s Guild.

“Hello, my name’s Olive. Welcome to the adventurer’s guild. I haven’t seen you before. Are you here for William’s Whiskey?” Olive asked.

“William’s Whiskey?” Luna questioned. “What’s that?”

Once an adventurer, always an adventurer was more than just a saying. It was a perk of sorts. Meaning, any past adventurer could access the amenities of the Adventurer’s Guild. As for those amenities, the Adventurer’s Guild offered a bar area that served both food and drinks and an exclusive weapon and armor shop.

“It’s a new whiskey we have been serving. All the rage lately, it’s even made by William ‘The Dragon Slayer’ himself,” Olive added.

“The Dragon Slayer?” Luna again questioned.

“Oh, yea, the very one. I got to read his ID stone, and let me tell you, it was the longest printout I have ever seen,” Olive said.

A large board posted jobs or quests that adventurers could take within the guild. Secure rooms could also be rented at affordable rates for a night’s stay. The armor and weapons offered at the Adventurer’s Guild came with a special discount.

Some branches had better deals than others, but overall, it was a nice feature for its members. With Luna’s funds limited, she had no choice but to shop at the guild. It wasn’t bad to do so, as the weapons offered were usually of high quality. It was just something Luna had avoided, as Brighton was such a small place that she didn’t expect them to have an extensive selection.

“I can imagine,” Luna said.

Stories of William ‘The Dragon Slayer’ were widely circulated in Kingstown. It was even common for elves during play to take on the role of the mighty human William. However, it appeared that he, just like all the other retired great adventurers, was peddling a product.

“I’m going to need to see your ID stone, though,” Olive said.

“Of course.”

Luna handed over her ID stone. It was a flat, dark green stone that held all her adventurer information. The receptionist took the stone and placed it into a machine. Pressing a button, the device began to make a sound. A green light appeared, telling her that the ID was legitimate.

The machine produced two pages of information related to Luna’s missions and abilities. Compared to the virtual book William’s stone had created, it was a disappointment but typical for the guild’s adventurers. Olive handed the stone back to Luna, picked up the paperwork, and looked at it.

“You’re a long way from Kingstown,” Olive said.

“I am,” Luna said. “Supposed to be retired from this life.”

“Ain’t that always the way. You think you’re done, and something sucks you right back in,” Olive replied.

Luna looked over at Olive. “I suppose.”

“Well, you’re legit. Sorry about all the security. We have just been having a lot of trouble with people, mostly dwarves, trying to fake their way in here lately for the whiskey.”

“Is it that good? The whiskey, I mean?” Luna asked.

“It’s the best alcohol I’ve ever had. We even have a special once-a-year brew, William’s Apple Whiskey, if there’s any left,” Olive replied. “Some adventurers compare it to Elven wine.”

Comparing a human-made alcohol to elven wine was not something an elf would ever do. However, if it were similar, even slightly, it would be something Luna should try. But first, work before pleasure.

“I have a mission coming up, and I need to use your shops,” Luna said.

“I run those too, so I’ll meet you over there.” Olive pointed to another counter on the far side of the room.

Luna moved in that direction, followed by Olive, who was soon behind the counter. Looking at the walls, Luna could see that the Adventurer’s Guild in Brighton was better stocked than she had thought. The walls displayed weapons of various types and armor, and the counter had a glass covering that showed off special magical items.

“Didn’t see any mention of a mission on your stone. What are you looking for?” Olive asked.

“It’s a Merchant’s Guild mission.” Luna wasn’t sure if she should have said that or not, but Olive didn’t seem surprised. “I need something for a protection job,” Luna said.

“Oh, Merchant’s Guild, huh? So, are you looking for a concealed or open-carry weapon?” Olive asked. “We have both in stock. Big or little.”

“Probably hidden,” Luna said.

“Okay, something smaller then. What about armor?” Olive asked.

“Hideable would be best,” Luna answered. “If you have any.”

“We get good rotating stock. Brighton might not be huge, but it gets a lot of travelers,” Olive replied. “Sounds like you need a rogue package to me. For a weapon, I think concealment to damage ratio, I would go dagger.”

Olive turned around and started digging into some crates behind her. Rummaging through them, she occasionally turned around with an item and placed it down on the counter. The pile on the counter was growing, and Luna wondered when Olive would stop.

“I think that should be good. I have some thin leather armor in stock. While it’s not going to stop crossbows, it does pretty well against swords and knives. Also, it shouldn’t slow you down,” Olive said.

“What about fitting?” Luna asked.

“Yea, It might need a little adjusting.” Olive looked the elf up and down.

Luna nodded. She didn’t have a great deal of money to spare on armor or a weapon, but she knew going out on a mission without some equipment would be suicide. Luna turned her focus to the daggers on the counter, picking them up and carefully looking over each one.

“Did I have any guild credit?” Luna asked.

Olive looked down at the sheet she was holding. “Yea, you had two silver on your stone.”

Guild credit was a special credit applied for successfully completing missions. It functioned much like regular money but was only usable in an Adventurer’s Guild shop. Breathing a sigh of relief about the two silvers in credit she had, Luna nodded. While not a lot, it might be enough to pay for the armor or would at least be close.

Having looked over the blades, Luna set two of them aside. “Which one of these do you think is better?”

“This one,” Olive said, taking a quick look at the two.

“Thank you, that’s the one I want,” Luna replied.

“You make this easy. Sometimes I have to stand here for hours and watch full-grown men debate between two terrible blades,” Olive said. “I wish everyone would use my skills.”

Adventurer’s Guild receptionists wore many hats. One of their skills, appraisal, helped them determine the quality of weapons and armor at a single glance. They could tell you the condition and price of any armor or weapon they saw.

“This dagger and the thin armor looks to be two silver and five copper,” Olive said, counting up the cost.

Luna’s guild member discount was in effect. Thankfully, her budget would cover the costs using the guild credit she had. Picking up the blade, Luna spun it around a few times. The balance of the dagger felt perfect, and the grip was easy to work with it.

“Anything else we can do for you?” Olive asked.

“I think I might try the apple whiskey. How long will it take to adjust the armor?” Luna asked.

“If I can grab a few measurements, I can have the armor ready in an hour or so.”

Luna nodded as Olive moved around her with a piece of string, measuring off various areas of her body.

“Okay, got them,” Olive said.

“Thank you,” Luna replied, heading over to the bar area.

“Don’t see many elves around here,” George said, looking up at Luna.

“I hear you have an apple alcohol that might be comparable to elven wine.”

“We do. It’s good stuff; it costs two coppers a glass,” George replied.

“What if it’s not as good as elven wine?” Luna asked.

“Well, it’s cheaper than eleven wine,” George said with a wink. “I’ll tell you what, if you don’t like it, I won’t even charge you.”

Luna was surprised by the offer. “Sure, let’s try this once a year, apple whiskey.”

George quickly poured her a mug of the whiskey and placed it down in front of her. Luna rose the glass to her lips and took a sip. The sweet concoction made her wrinkle her nose. It was the perfect balance of flavor and, thankfully, not any sweeter than it was.

Elven wine used fermented grapes to produce its subtle fruit flavor. The alcohol in front of Luna used fermented apples. While it was no replacement for authentic elven wine, it was not without charms. Luna took another drink.

While it could be argued that the apple whiskey was close to elven wine, it wasn’t the same. Without the sourness of the grapes to balance off the sweetness of the apples, it was sadly lacking. George watched, waiting for the usual reaction: “That’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted.” Instead, Luna pushed the beverage forward away from her.

“It’s a little sweet for my tastes,” Luna said. “Though I can see why people might compare it to elven wine.”

George nodded. “Tell you what, I’ll give you a glass of the regular William’s Whiskey on the house.”

Turning back around, George filled a glass and gave it to Luna. Looking into the glass, she could see the color was lighter than the one she had just tried. Raising the glass to her lips, she took a drink of it.

The flavor was a refreshing blend of wheat with just the right amount of bitterness at the end. It wasn’t nearly as sweet as the apple whiskey had been. Instead, the perfect balance of mild flavors hit her. She immediately took another drink.

“I like that much better,” Luna said, staring at the cup. “Thank you.”

George smiled; there was the reaction he had been hoping for. “It’s good stuff and that there we can get all year round. The only one limited is the apple whiskey. Though the regular does sell out from time to time, between shipments.”

Luna finished off the glass and placed two coppers down on the counter. With all her business done, Luna headed back out of the Adventurer’s Guild and onto the streets of Brighton. The thought of just how much smaller the village was than Kingstown had never hit her. Breathing in the country air, the reality that she was going back home sank in.

The following day at the Merchant’s Guild, everything proceeded like it had the day before. Having failed to side-track the positive news, Herman was focused on finding out exactly what had happened in Mr. Stevens’ office. Catching sight of Mr. Stevens carrying a contract form, he was determined to find out what it was about. While it was not an unusual sight, it caught Herman's attention, and he made a beeline straight for it.

Mr. Stevens was a man who believed that contracts should be kept solely between the two parties involved, so he was not about to give up that paperwork easily. Herman’s efforts to get a sneak peek at the form were to no avail. That meant he would only be able to access it safely once it had been officially filed.

Stopping by Luna’s workspace to grab her signature, Mr. Stevens waited. It was a standard adventurer’s contract, and she had seen many of them before. Looking over the terms, Luna signed at the bottom, just above Mr. Stevens’ signature. After that, he took the guild’s seal and personally stamped it.

All that remained was to file the paperwork. Moving over to the guild’s files, Mr. Stevens paused. While he officially should have filed the paperwork just like any other contract, the idea occurred to him that it might be best to sit on the form until the job was final or at least underway.

Turning, Mr. Stevens held the contract in his hand and moved over to his office. Once inside, Mr. Stevens sat the contract down on his desk. Herman, who had watched Mr. Stevens neglect to file the contract, was more curious than ever about what the form contained. Ideas began to form in his head of how he could get into Mr. Stevens' office to steal a glance at that paperwork.

Around noon each day, the employees, Mr. Stevens included, would take time off for their lunch breaks. Herman’s plan was simply to wait until Mr. Stevens was away for lunch and then enter his office. It was a simple plan, and Herman watched for the right time.

Chapter 35: Stabbed In The Back

Mr. Stevens announced that he would be out for lunch. All Herman had to do was find a reason to enter his office. Looking around him, Herman spotted an expense report. While hardly earth-shattering, it was just the type of paperwork Mr. Stevens liked to go over himself.

Moving towards the office, Herman passed one employee, then another. Only one person remained, keeping him from Mr. Stevens’ office. That was Samantha, Mr. Stevens’ secretary.

“Hold on, where do you think you are going?” Samantha asked, not looking up from her work.

“Expense report,” replied Herman, holding the paper in his hand.

Samantha looked up and saw the paperwork. Things like that were not uncommon to be handed off to Mr. Stevens. Frowning, she held out her hand.

“Do you want me to take that?” Samantha asked.

Samantha’s mistake was asking it as a question. Herman’s mission would have ended right there if she had simply said, “I will take that.” Asking it as a question, though, allowed him to respond.

“No, that’s fine. I know you’re busy. I’ll just put it on Mr. Stevens’ desk,” Herman replied.

It was somewhat uncharacteristic of Herman to be that thoughtful, but Samantha didn’t think much of his behavior. Instead, she just nodded. Herman opened the door and was entirely alone in the office.

Crossing over to the desk, Herman saw the contract laying there unguarded. Reaching down, he picked it up and began to look it over. At first, it was confusing, as he had expected it to be a Merchant’s Guild contract.

Instead, however, it was an Adventurer’s Guild contract. It seemed Luna was being hired for a job traveling to Kingstown. Not familiar with Adventurer’s Guild contracts, it took Herman longer to look it over, and he lost track of time. Looking up, he was startled to see Mr. Stevens in the doorway watching him.

“Did you find what you needed?” Mr. Stevens asked, his tone emotionless.

“I just brought you this expense report,” Herman said, picking it up off the desk.

“That kind of thing might work on my secretary, but I’m the boss here. There is no good reason you should be in my office, looking at the paperwork on my desk.” Mr. Stevens’ voice was starting to grow louder.

“It was all a mistake. A simple mistake,” Herman said.

“As long as you have worked here at the Merchant’s Guild, you should be well versed in how we deal with paperwork. Looking over those papers on my desk was a grave mistake, and I have no choice.” Mr. Stevens frowned.

“Are you terminating me?” Herman asked, his eyes wide.

“No, I’m not. You’ve been a reliable employee. I am, however, demoting you,” Mr. Stevens said.

The word ‘demoting’ sank into Herman’s soul. Having been the senior on staff for several years, it was something he treasured. The authority and power it came with was a tool he wielded over the other employees.

“Until further notice, you are a regular employee. Not just that, but while Ms. Luna is gone on her trip, you will be working the contracts line in her place,” Mr. Stevens replied, his voice stern.

“But you can’t do that to me! I’m a manager at this branch,” Herman said coldly.

“And I, Herman, am the Merchant’s Guild master here. So whatever I say goes. I have the power to demote you or even fire you,” Mr. Stevens replied sternly.

It was true. The Merchant’s Guild master at each branch held complete control over their staff and building. Even though the Brighton branch was easily one of the smallest, the rules were still the same.

“So choose your next words very carefully, or I will have the Royal Knights escort you out,” Mr. Stevens said.

Herman gulped as he looked over at Mr. Stevens. Stammering, he said, “I-I understand, sir.”

Confused and scared by Mr. Stevens’ tone and actions, Herman fled the office. Thankfully, it was lunchtime, and only a few employees had seen what had transpired. Of course, it only takes one to talk, and Herman knew the rumors circulating the rest of the day would be about him.

Mr. Stevens sighed. “What should I do with him?”

Walking over to his desk, Mr. Stevens looked over the contract again. How much of the mission could Herman have figured out? The paper had some information, including Kingstown, but primarily it concerned Gil. That relieved him some, as he took his seat.

“Samantha,” Mr. Stevens called for his secretary.

“Yes?” Samantha asked, moving over to the door of his office.

“Please come in here and take a seat,” Mr. Stevens said.

Several minutes later, Samantha emerged from the office. The expression on her face said she had gotten a lecture from Mr. Stevens. As the workday ended, Herman angrily left the building, forgetting to remove his Merchant's Guild robe.

Herman went to the closest pub to find some relief from his troubles. That establishment was The Darkroot Tavern. Finding a booth out of the way, he sat down and waited.

“What will it be?” the server asked.

“Bring me an ale,” Herman said.

“Right away,” the server said.

Moving over to the bar, the server looked at the bartender. “Get a load of that one. I guess he’s from the Merchant’s Guild or something. I need an ale.”

The bartender nodded and fetched the ale. The server brought it over to Herman and placed it down on the table. Lifting the mug, Herman took a drink. The bitter ale made him scrunch up his face, but because of the way he felt, he powered through it.

The bartender looked over at a kid to the side of the bar. “Go get Grober.”

Standing up, the boy headed downstairs. A few minutes later, Grober, who was always on the lookout for anything that might help his business, came up the stairs. Moving over by the bartender, he looked over at him.

“What is it?” Grober asked.

“That one there sitting alone.” The bartender pointed. “He’s wearing a high-level Merchant’s Guild robe.

Grober, who had occasionally worked inside the Merchant’s Guild, recognized Herman. Seeing him there by himself, Grober grinned and rubbed his hands together. Herman was the perfect person to gather information from.

“A hard day at work? Eh?” Grober asked, taking a seat opposite Herman.

“You could say that,” Herman said, raising his glass and taking a large drink.

Grober raised his hand, signaling for two ales to be brought over. “Let me buy you a drink.”

A waitress brought over two ales and placed them down on the table. Grober took one and slid the other over. Herman looked at the glass and lifted the one he was working on to finish it off.

“So what happened to bring you into my little establishment?” Grober asked.

“I’m just trying to forget that blasted elf,” Herman said.

Grober knew Herman hated elves. His bias against them was always on full display. Grober himself didn’t care about elves one way or another, but it provided a talking point.

“Oh, an elf’s to blame. That figures,” Grober said. “They cause many troubles.”

“I know, right? There’s only one elf in the entire village, and she got me demoted. Can you believe that?” Herman said. “That’s how poisonous they are. It only takes a single elf to ruin an entire village.”

“How did she manage that?” Grober asked. “She doesn’t look like trouble.”

“That’s the way they get you. She uses the way she looks to gain trust, to worm her way into a position to cause problems.”

“Oh, I see,” Grober said, wondering if the ale had already affected Herman, with the way he was babbling.

“Once they get too close, it’s too late, they have you.” Herman clapped his hands together. “Mr. Stevens hired her, you know. He’s probably in on it.”

“Yes, about a year ago,” Grober said, well aware of Luna. “It was a surprise to see an elf this far from the capital.”

“They do it right in Kingstown. Keeping all the elves together. It’s easier watching them that way,” Herman said.

“Do you think Mr. Stevens shouldn’t have hired her as a teller?” Grober asked.

“No, not a teller. I mean to protect a boy going to Kingstown,” Herman said. “That’s what he hired her for. It’s all some big secret. I’m not allowed to know anything about it. It’s like they don’t trust me. I’ve been there longer than anyone, even Mr. Stevens.”

The word ‘secret’ was something Grober seized upon. If Mr. Stevens did anything secretly, it was worth knowing. Also, a boy going to Kingstown was strange for the Merchant’s Guild to spend time or money on.

“Why are they sending a boy to Kingstown?” Grober asked. “That doesn’t make much sense.”

“I know, right?” Herman said. “Why would the guild be paying to send Gil West with a bodyguard to Kingstown? I bet they are sending that merchant too, Roland.”

“A bodyguard?” Grober asked, taking a sip of his ale.

“Yea, I guess that elf was an adventurer,” Herman said. “Mr. Stevens and her signed an adventuring contract. Bodyguard work protecting the boy.”

Grober’s interest doubled. If Mr. Stevens was hiring an adventurer, there had to be something worth protecting. Adventurers were expensive, but they had skills that could be used.

“Interesting. What can you tell me about the boy?” Grober asked. “Gil was it?”

Even though Grober had a run-in or two with Gil, he hadn’t yet placed the boy who had shown him up at the mill as being the same one. The Merchant Guild being interested in some kid was curious. Herman lifted his mug and took a hearty drink.

“He owns the bakery and has a couple of contracts with the merchant Roland,” Herman said.

The mention of the merchant Roland and the bakery caused Grober to suddenly place who Gil was. It was the same brat selling apples down by the mill. Not only that, but Gil had also recently paid the maximum amount in taxes and renewed his license.

“That boy, Gil, Mr. Stevens always helps him when he’s in the bank line too,” Herman said.

“Really, the head of the guild cares about his account?” Grober asked.

“Gil’s made a lot from the contracts, and the bakery is doing quite the business,” Herman continued.

Grober lifted his mug to his lips, but he only took a small sip. Getting information was all about him maintaining his wits while letting fools lose theirs. Herman was an open book, and he was telling Grober everything.

“So the guild is taking that boy to Kingstown?” Grober asked. “What a strange use of the guild’s resources.”

“They are even acting like the king himself ordered it,” Herman said, taking another large gulp of ale. “The way they are protecting all the paperwork.”

Grober smiled and nodded. While Herman had been unable to connect the dots independently, he had unconsciously figured it out. Grober sipped some ale and thought it all over.

“The king?” Grober asked. “What makes you think that?”

“Well, it has to be something big, with that amount of security. Hiring a past adventurer and not filing the paperwork,” Herman said. “I don’t know. All I know is I got demoted over it.”

“Well, let me buy you another drink,” Grober said, raising a finger to indicate a single ale.

Grober waited for the server to bring the ale to the table. Looking over at Herman, he smiled. Herman was not the usual clientele Grober’s business saw.

When the server arrived, Grober used her to move away from the table quietly. The information he had just gained from Herman could be useful. Crossing the pub, Grober stopped over at the bar.

Catching the bartender’s attention, Grober said, “Make sure you keep sending ales over that way. Just charge him for the first couple. The rest I’ll pick up.”

“Alright,” the bartender replied, motioning one of the servers over to him, so he could spread the message.

Grober, who worked as Lord Drace’s tax collector, left the building. It was still light out, and mounting his horse, he rode out towards Lord Drace’s manor. Grober’s news was incomplete, but he knew Lord Drace would be interested.

Chapter 36: Visitors

Having accepted the contract, Luna was quickly excused from her daily duties. The usual tasks she would have been doing were given to Herman. That freed up her time to meet with Roland. The meeting took place in the same downstairs office where Roland had met Mr. Stevens earlier.

“Hello, sir,” Luna said.

“You don't have to be so formal. Just call me Roland. It’s my name after all,” Roland said.

“Roland, I have been appointed by the Merchant’s Guild to be their representative. While I work for them, my duties are to help you prepare everything for the trip. So besides recording everything, I will help manage the boys and accompany you into Kingstown.”

“Good, will you be free in the morning? Assuming the weather is ok, that is. I was thinking of going by Gil’s bakery so we can get the job orders started for the chess set,” Roland said, looking over at Luna.

“I will be available whenever you need me,” Luna replied.

“Perfect, then bright and early tomorrow, we’ll go by and grab Gil,” Roland said.

The following morning, Roland’s carriage pulled up to the Merchant’s Guild early in the day. Going inside, he spotted the receptionist, who was busy doing her morning tasks. Moving over that way, Roland got her attention.

“I’m looking for Luna,” Roland said.

“Of course, I will page her,” the receptionist responded.

A short time later, Roland could see Luna descending the stairway.

“Good morning,” Roland said, looking the elf over.

“Good morning,” Luna responded.

“Are you ready?” Roland asked, directing her outside.

“As much as possible,” Luna said, not sure what the day would bring.

Roland walked up to the carriage driver. “We are just going across the street to the bakery. We can do so on foot.” Roland pointed out the building. “Just wait outside it.”

Walking together, the two crossed the street and moved to the building. Looking up, they both noticed the sign above the shop, which read, ‘The Sweet Bakery’ on an apple. The crisp winter air blew past them. Reaching the door, Roland held it open for Luna, who waited just inside for him.

As Roland looked around the inside front of the bakery, he was surprised to see two tables, one in each corner. Judy spotted the two of them entering and moved over their way. Though the door was unlocked, the bakery was not officially open yet. Roland, seeing Judy, rubbed his chin and smiled down at the girl.

“We're not open just yet,” Judy said.

“That’s fine. We're here to see Gil, the owner.”

“He’s outside, preparing the still for winter, I’ll go get him for you. Please wait here,” Judy said, turning around.

Judy disappeared out a door at the back of the bakery. A moment later, Gil entered, with Judy behind him. Judy went back to working on the dough, but listened closely, interested in who was visiting Gil.

“Hello, I need to help Judy with the ovens, come on back,” Gil said, seeing Roland.

Once Roland had stepped into the back, Gil’s jaw dropped upon seeing Luna behind him. That was not the person he had been expecting. While Roland casually mentioned that the guild would send someone with him, he had failed to mention that person would be Luna.

Gil had been expecting some stuffy individual mindful of expenses and worried about delays. To find Luna in his shop was pure delight. Judy watched as Gil’s expression changed upon seeing the elf.

The expression he had was one of shock, but there was something else behind it. Judy noticed that Gil seemed excited to see Luna. Judy's stomach suddenly twisted into a knot of jealousy.

“The ovens,” Judy said.

“I have them,” Gil replied, taking a quick peek inside before moving over towards Roland and Luna.

Judy watched as Gil joined the two adults by the prep table. While he never looked out of place talking about business, she suddenly wished he would. Normally, Judy wouldn’t have minded, but for the first time, she felt invisible.

“This here is Roland. You have probably heard me talk about him before,” Gil said, looking over at Judy. “He’s the person who sells the chess sets and checkers. Judy here is quite an accomplished chess player.”

“It’s very nice to meet you, young lady,” Roland stated.

“Luna here works over at the Merchant’s Guild,” Gil said, introducing the elf.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you both,” Judy said.

The words she had just spoken weren't meant to be disingenuous, but she felt that they were. Had it just been Roland, Judy would have been fine. However, the elf was something else altogether. Judy had heard her father speak ill of elves before. While she had never met one herself, Judy instinctively distrusted them because of stories her father had told.

Eyeing Luna suspiciously, Judy asked, “What brings you two to the shop?”

“Oh, we are here to get Gil,” Roland said. “The boy has some business he needs to attend to around Brighton.”

Roland was being incredibly vague about why they were there. The merchant’s response did not help to calm Judy’s nerves. Instead, it had the opposite effect.

“Mind you ovens,” Judy snapped.

Gil headed back to the oven door with a slight shrug and looked in on the bread he was cooking. Everything in the oven was fine, and he moved back towards his friends. Judy, looking at Gil, could see that his gaze was set on Luna.

Swallowing hard, Judy reminded herself that Gil and she were kids. Even if Gil had a crush on a full-grown elf, it couldn’t be anything more. Judy wanted to run and hide, but she wouldn’t give up Gil without a fight. It was Judy's belief that Gil and she were destined to be together.

Clearing her throat, Judy looked over at Luna. ”So you are going with them?”

“I am,” Luna said, utterly unaware of Judy’s disdain for her.

“How long will Gil be out?” Judy asked.

“Oh, I'm not sure. Our business is vital, and it might take some time,” Roland said.

Elves were not skilled in the fine arts of nonverbal communication. They, as a group, were usually pretty oblivious to the subtle things going on around them. If Luna had been any other woman, she might have noticed Judy’s change in behavior.

“The ovens,” Judy said again.

“I know,” Gil returned.

The words forced Gil to step away once more. Looking in on the loaves, he could see they were much closer to being done. Closing the oven door, Gil stood beside it, knowing the bread would need to come out shortly.

Judy smirked slightly, seeing Gil stuck in place. It felt good to have separated the two of them. Looking over the elf once more, she could see why a boy would be interested. Unable to match up to the elf’s looks, Judy would simply have to outdo her in other ways.

“How much longer do you think it will be?” Roland asked, growing impatient.

“Not much now,'' Gil said, cracking the oven door and looking inside.

“Don’t get the edges too crisp. You know when Stan comes by, he likes the bread soft,” Judy said.

It didn’t matter to Judy if it were an elf or any other woman. No one would take Gil away from her. While someone could mistake her passion for possessiveness, that wasn’t the case, at least in her mind.

“I’m so sorry we're putting you out,” Judy said, looking over at Roland. “We just have to prepare the daily items for sale.”

“Of course,” Roland replied.

Having been told Roland was a merchant, Judy focused on his business sense, knowing he would be hesitant to cause a fellow merchant business troubles. Her instincts were spot on, and Roland felt uncomfortable trying to rush Gil.

With nothing else to do, Luna watched Gil and Judy continue working. If elves had run the bakery, they would have worked in silence, focusing only on their tasks. However, Judy and Gil talked and smiled, sharing their work duties and lives. Luna wished she were able to do so with such ease.

Even the Merchant’s Guild was not as comfortable an environment as Luna thought the bakery was. The way humans worked was something she envied, their ability to enjoy the process. Focusing back on Gil, she looked at the small boy she was tasked with protecting.

“Ok, I’m going to start pulling the loaves,” Gil said, reaching over for the large bread paddle hanging on the wall.

“Be careful,” Judy cautioned, moving over to the table to help.

“I always am,” Gil said.

As it could prove helpful to know as much about him as possible, Luna studied Gil. Her keen eye’s latched onto the way he carried himself and how Gil was like someone much older. The care he used removing the loaves of bread showed a mastery that seemed impossible for someone so young.

“Put them here,” Judy indicated with her hand.

“I know that,” Gil said.

Moving the loaves over to the table two at a time, Gil placed them down as they began cooling. As he moved through the actions of work, Luna sensed he wasn’t haphazard or in a hurry. In her experience, the younger a person was, human or not, the more carefree and dangerous the actions they tended to take were.

“That bread smells absolutely perfect,” Roland said, watching Gil.

“That’s what we want to hear,” Gil said, glancing over at Roland.

Luna wondered what kind of person Gil was. The way he spoke so comfortably to both the young girl and the full-grown merchant seemed seamless. Gil’s mannerisms were almost the same as an adult's. There was no needlessly emphasizing things, as children tended to do with their arms and hands when speaking.

“Just one more,” Gil said, moving the last loaf to the table.

“They look good,” Judy remarked, looking over at Gil.

“They sure do,” Gil said, satisfied.

Everyone in the bakery except the elf seemed at ease with each other. Luna couldn’t help but think that she should be the outsider in the group. Yet Gil’s actions to her made him the odd one, not her. Luna couldn’t sort it out, but this boy was much more than he appeared.

“Did you get those new treats glazed yet?” Gil asked.

“Yep, and they are delicious,” Judy said, emphasizing the word ‘delicious.’

“Good, then all we have to do is finish up these loaves, and we will be ready to open,” Gil said.

Being an elf, Luna was well aware that physical appearances did not make the individual. While Luna knew that Gil owned the bakery and did act the part, it was hard to understand how such a small boy could act so experienced. When Roland interacted with him, it was apparent that he didn’t see Gil as a child, but Luna struggled with his outward appearance.

Done with the oven, Gil moved over to Judy. In front of her were new sweet treats the bakery would start offering. They were one of Judy’s recipes that Gil had chosen to add to the menu.

“Here, try these. I would like your opinions, please,” said Gil, almost shoving the treat into Luna's mouth.

“They are outstanding,” Judy added, looking over at Roland.

Looking at Luna's face, Gil could see she wore a scowl across it. Gil waited, expecting her to say something, but she didn't. The taste of the roll caused Luna to scrunch up her face. Gil worried something might be wrong with the treat.

Seeing Luna’s pained expression, Judy was just doing her best to hold back the laughter she felt. That was just the sort of thing she had hoped would happen. Having once heard that elves didn’t like sweets from her mother, Judy smiled.

It had been a gesture meant to endure Luna to Gil, but it did not seem to have that effect. Gil frowned, confused. Maybe Judy’s recipe isn’t as good as I thought it was.

Going over all the ingredients in his mind, Gil wasn’t sure what could be wrong. Looking over at Roland, he could see that the merchant was enjoying his treat. Gil racked his brain, trying to figure out where he had messed up.

“This is something delightful. You are going to be serving these daily?” Roland asked.

“That's the idea,” Judy said.

A smile crossed Roland’s face almost immediately. Only in the largest cities were sweet treats like the one he was eating available. The warm treat was one of the best things Roland had ever tasted. Even the fancy restaurants he had dined in had never had such a perfect dessert.

“Ah, so this is what has been keeping you so busy?” Roland asked, looking around.

“Sure is,” Gil said. “We have been doing an incredible amount of business. “Thanks to Judy and all her help.” Gil patted Judy on the shoulder.

Judy smiled at the recognition Gil had given her. It was true. Gil had adopted several of her ideas onto the shop's menu. While Roland had never thought of owning a food business before, maybe there were some benefits to having one.

Roland’s mind jumped to calculations, trying to figure out how much Gil was making from the shop and his expenses. Food was a tricky business and not for the inexperienced. With proper management, it could be lucrative, though.

Chapter 37: Differences

Having finished his treat, Roland was eyeing the rest of them sitting on the table. Gil was still confused about what had gone wrong with Luna’s. Looking over at the merchant, he desperately tried to get Roland to address the issue without saying so.

The expression on Luna’s face was one of disgust. The sweetness of the baked goods made her want to vomit. Holding back that feeling, she found it impossible to speak. It worried her how Gil had forced the treat onto her.

Elves spent their lives dealing with people who hated them, especially in Kingstown. It caused many of them to see everyone as dangerous. Luna tried not to make snap judgements about people, but she wondered if Gil had done it on purpose. That would make her job a lot harder.

Growing up, elves are taught proper etiquette from a very early age. When the world hates you for existing, everything you do is scrutinized. Luna knew better than to air her weaknesses and dislikes. Taking slow breaths, she swallowed hard, trying to get the taste out of her mouth.

“Is she going to be ok?” Gil finally asked, with concern in his voice.

“I’m sure she will,” Judy said, barely giving the elf any attention.

Roland looked over at Luna to see what all the fuss was about and figured out what had happened. Bursting out in laughter, he looked over at Gil. Seeing Roland laugh at Luna’s discomfort caused Gil to start getting angry.

“Elves don’t like sweet things,” Roland said, barely getting the words out between laughs.

“What?” Gil questioned, confused.

“Yes, it’s well known. Elves simply don't care for sweets. Though I would very much like another one myself,” Roland said.

“Sure,” Gil said, handing Roland another.

“They tend to like salty and more bitter flavors,” Roland added.

“I’m sorry I didn’t know,” Gil said, looking over at Luna.

The honesty of Gil’s words made Luna feel embarrassed with herself. Having thought the worst of the humans around her, she knew she had been sorely mistaken. While they may have laughed at her discomfort, it was not out of malicious intent.

Gil’s face turned a bright shade of red. Embarrassed, he wondered how it was possible that someone couldn’t like sweets. While it was true back in Gil’s original world, people sometimes would say that, he never thought them serious. Instead, he had always thought they were just saying they liked other things better.

“It’s true,” Luna managed to say.

Gil grabbed a water and handed it to her. “I’m so sorry,”

Judy, who also knew elves didn’t like sweets, moved towards the group. “I guess The Sweet Bakery is not to everyone’s taste,” she said.

Luna nodded, her face still wearing a yuck look from the sweet roll. Gil felt awful that he hadn’t known. Having practically shoved that little snack right into Luna's mouth, Gil looked down at the floor in embarrassment.

Luna, having recovered from the disgusting taste and sensing Gil’s discomfort, said, “Humans and elves have different tastes when it comes to food.”

“I see,” Gil said quietly. “I’m sorry. I had no idea.”

“She might like a cup of coffee,” Judy suggested. “Do you like warm drinks?”

“I do,” Luna said softly, a little scared of what might be offered.

Gil moved over to the counter and prepared a cup of coffee for Luna. Maybe we could figure out how to make pretzels? She’d probably like those. It was something he had already thought of but had held off on as he believed the sweet bread would be a better seller.

“Here, it’s very hot,” Gil said, holding the coffee out in front of him.

Luna carefully looked at the boy and reached out for the cup. Holding it close to her face, she smelled the liquid. The hot aroma was inviting. Holding the cup up to her lips, she took a small sip.

“What do you think?” Gil asked.

“I like it,” Luna said with a smile.

Though unknown to him, Gil’s coffee was basically the same as a drink the elves made. They used the same bitter brown seeds to make theirs. The only difference between the two was that instead of grinding the seeds as Gil did, they soaked them in the water for two days, which made them swell up and soften, then they would chop the seeds up and serve them alongside the water they had soaked in.

Luna’s reaction to the coffee was not what Judy had hoped for. The bitter flavors that had curled her nose were supposed to drive the elf out of the bakery forever. Instead, the elf seemed to be enjoying it.

Roland, who had quickly devoured the second treat he was given, eyed the one left on the table. The merchant would have asked for a third if he had not thought it glutinous. The sweet treats Gil sold could quickly become addictive for the merchant. Roland was now looking embarrassed, remembering why they had come to the bakery.

“We need to steal Gil away from here for a while. Important Merchant’s Guild business, you know,” Roland said.

“I’ll need a couple of minutes more,” Gil said. “The loaves of bread are just about ready to be turned over. You can also talk in front of Judy. I don't have any secrets from her.”

The meaning of the words, while not meant to make Judy feel better, somehow did just that. It was true she knew everything Gil did, more than Luna ever would. All the long hours they had spent talking together held value.

“Okay, well, today is the day we start the chess set for the king,” Roland said.

Gil nodded. “Okay, then I had best hurry up here.”

Gil’s relaxed nature about the chess set was something Luna had not expected. The boy was acting as if the king’s request was more of a bother than the big deal it was. At least to Luna, Roland had the right amount of enthusiasm.

“What?” Judy asked.

While Gil and Judy had shared secrets before, that was not one of them. It was the first she heard about a chess set for the king. It wasn’t because Gil had kept it a secret on purpose. It was just that he had not considered it worth mentioning.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you,” Gil said. “The king ordered a chess set and I have to go meet with him for lunch or something.”

“You’re going to meet the king?” Judy asked, shocked.

Just as Judy had spoken, Barry walked in the back door.

“Who’s meeting the king?” Barry asked.

“I guess Cam and I are going to Kingstown next year,” Gil said.

“What?!” Barry exclaimed.

“The king ordered a chess set,” Judy said, trying to catch Barry up.

“You’re going to play chess with the king?” Barry asked.

“Maybe, I don’t really know yet,” Gil replied. “I might have to teach him.”

Roland watched the three of them talk. Judy and Barry had similar reactions to that of Cam, but Gil still didn’t seem excited. Luna watched as well, wondering why Gil seemed so bothered by the king’s request.

“This is a big deal,” Judy said. “You need to go. Barry and I can do the rest.”

“Are you sure?” Gil asked, scratching his head.

Having been in the kingdom her entire life, Judy put much more meaning behind the king than Gil did. In her mind and that of the others in the room, the king’s chess set took priority over everything. To Gil, however, his bakery business was far more important.

Judy also felt disappointed in herself for how she had treated Luna. If she had known the merchant and elf had visited because of the king’s order, she would have sent Gil out sooner. Instead, she had wasted time being jealous.

Moving over to Gil, Judy pushed him over to Roland. Seeing the determination on her face, Gil gave up all hope of prolonging the inevitable any longer. Looking back, Gil could see that Barry had started turning the loaves of bread over.

“Are you sure you'll be alright?” Gil questioned.

Judy looked up, “Of course we will. It shouldn't be a problem.”

Gil, freed from his work, followed Roland as he led the group outside. Arriving at the carriage, Luna stepped up and took a seat. Over the past year, since making frequent visits into town and working at the bakery, Gil had gotten stronger. Instead of Roland needing to pick Gil up, he could board almost on his own. All he needed was another person to steady him.

“Let me help you up,” Roland said, holding out an arm for Gil.

“Thank you,” Gil said.

Getting into the cab, Gil looked over at Luna and cursed the tiny body he was trapped in. While it was much better getting into the coach that way than having Roland pick him up, it was still slightly embarrassing. Inside, Gil, choosing his seat, sat down next to Luna.

“Are you ready?” Luna asked.

Looking up at the elf next to him, Gil nodded. “Of course.”

Being so close to Luna, Gil could smell the perfume she was wearing. It was like the scent of lilacs on a warm summer day. Breathing in deeply, Gil couldn't help but feel content. He could have sat by her forever.

“Good,” Roland said, climbing in and taking the seat across from them.

Roland’s weight made the carriage sway from side to side. That had the effect of instantly snapping Gil back to reality. With his dreams of being alone with Luna shattered, Gil looked at the merchant.

“We have a lot of work to do,” Roland said.

As the carriage took off, Gil and Luna bumped gently into each other. It was a constant reminder of how close they were. The thought of reaching out and holding her hand occurred to him, but he knew it wouldn’t be taken the way he wanted it to.

“The first stop will be the Metal Worker’s Guild, “ Roland said. “After we are done there, we will stop by the Carpenter’s Guild.”

“Sound’s good,” Gil replied, just happy to not be doing the work himself.

Luna took a small book out of her bag and recorded the location they were headed to. Once she was done, she placed the book back where she had gotten it from. The carriage hit a bump and shook the people inside it around.

“This is an important day, Gil. Today we will start the preparations for the king’s chess set,” Roland said. “The guild has appointed Luna here to help us out. She will even be going on the trip to Kingstown.”

“Really?” Gil asked, surprised.

“Indeed I will. It is my task to record everything that happens for the guild,” Luna added. “So I’m sure we will become excellent friends.”

While her interpretation of the word ‘friends’ and Gil’s were certainly not the same, he felt a smile cross his face. Luna was going on the trip with them, which made Gil very happy. Not only was he going to get to ride next to Luna today but also in the future.

Gil looked silently up at Luna next to him and tried to figure out how he would make up for giving her such a sweet treat. It was a mistake Gil hoped to fix as soon as possible. The carriage stopped, and the door was soon opened with Roland stepping outside.

Luna departed the carriage next, and Gil was last. Roland held out his arm to steady Gil as he stepped down. With all three of them on the ground, Gil noticed that Roland had reached back in for something. Emerging from under his seat, he pulled out the chess set Gil had made for him.

Chapter 38: A Chess Set Fit For A King

Luna could hear loud hammering sounds emanating from the building. If they were going inside, it would be uncomfortable. As she stepped forward, Gil and Roland moved back to the tree of silence.

“What are you doing?” Luna asked, looking over.

“The leaves of this tree help block out the noise inside,” Gil said, demonstrating the leaf earplugs.

“It’s a very noisy place,” Roland added.

As the group moved towards the building, Jonas stepped out to meet them. Jonas looked Roland over and then glared at Luna. In William’s stories, dwarves and elves didn’t get along.

“You had to go and bring an elf, did you?” Jonas stroked his beard before looking at Gil. “So, what have you got for us today?”

“Today’s project is a big one,” Gil said. “We’re going to….”

Roland interrupted, “We’re here for an important custom order.”

Jonas looked over at Roland and scowled. Roland was tall and interrupted the conversation Jonas was having with his friend. Turning his attention back to Gil, Jonas waited for the boy to finish.

“We need some metal casting for the king,” Gil said.

“And why the elf?” Jonas asked.

“I’m with the Merchant’s Guild, as a representative,” Luna said.

“The king of Vale?” Jonas squinted at the boy. “Well, now that’s different, I might even forgive you for the elf.”

Leading the way, the group followed Jonas over to the doors. When one was opened, noise filled the air. Looking over at Luna, Gil could tell that she was in discomfort even with the earplugs.

“Then we need to go upstairs,” Jonas said, directing them to a short flight of stairs behind him. “The head craftsman will want to talk with you.”

Gil and Roland nodded as they followed Jonas. Reaching the top of the stairs, Jonas turned and opened the door to the guild master’s office. It was Gil’s first time in the room.

It was larger than the other room Jonas and Gil had used. Before them sat an immense man who looked humorously too big for his desk. The burly man had substantial muscular arms and was the largest person Gil had ever seen.

“That there is Digby,” Jonas said. “He’s the head of the guild.”

Gil, looking over at the man, was suddenly frightened by his appearance. Stepping back behind Roland, Gil hid himself like a child would do when confronted with a large stranger. When Luna entered the room, she was relieved by the silence.

“He doesn’t bite either,” Jonas whispered to Gil.

“We are here today to order an extraordinarily unique item,” Roland said, moving into the room.

Though Gil had never met Digby before, he had heard Jonas and the dwarves talk about him. They had said Digby could do as much work as any two of them could, which for a human was something. Gil had often thought of William as having muscular arms, but the upper muscles on Digby’s arms were the size of William’s head.

“What kind of item?” Digby asked in a deep voice.

Roland placed the chess set he was carrying down on the table in front of Digby’s desk. Opening one of the drawers, Roland took out a game piece. Handing it off to Digby, he removed another one and handed that over to Jonas.

“What’s this?” Jonas asked.

“That’s a chess piece,” Gil said, finding his courage. “You’re holding a rook while Digby is holding a pawn. Both sides have the same pieces, meaning there are four in a total of each, but two of them would need to be a different color or metal.”

Digby turned the wooden piece around in his hand. In comparison, it was tiny, and watching him do it made the chess piece look dainty. Roland began setting up the game, emptying the rest on the table. Jonas and Digby looked at the details of the pieces they were holding.

“It has to look like this?” Jonas asked.

“Of course,” Roland said.

“Yes, but no,” Gil said.

Roland glanced at Gil, but continued pulling more pieces out of the chess set. Jonas turned his attention to Gil. Digby was still looking over the pawn he held from every angle. Roland passed out another piece to each of them, and this time Digby got a knight and Jonas a king.

“It’s what’s called a game. Those pieces you are holding move across the board. Like so,” Roland said, demonstrating.

Digby rolled the knight figure around in his rough, thick fingers. “This will be hard to do because of the details.”

Jonas nodded, looking at the king figure. “They have to look like this?”

Digby got up from his chair, which only revealed he was far bigger than he had initially looked. Gil had gotten the impression from William that dwarves didn’t like tall humans, but they seemed to all admire Digby. As the giant man moved over to the table, Roland was still demonstrating the movements of the game pieces.

Digby nodded. “So you want these pieces like the one here, cast in metal?”

“Yes!” Roland almost shouted.

Gil had thought Cam was the worst person to try and explain a game, but obviously, that was not the case. Roland’s explanation was terrible, so much so that Gil wondered how he had managed to sell a single set. Still, the two metal workers watched as Roland played a couple straightforward moves in front of them. Confused, they looked desperately about the room for anyone to clear things up.

“What do you have to do with this, Gil?” Jonas asked.

“Oh, it’s my game,” Gil said. “I made that set out of wood.”

“I should have known. Only you would create something like that,” Jonas replied.

“It’s to be a gift for his majesty, the king,” Roland said. “This piece here represents a king.”

“I don’t think we can cast them like they are,” Jonas said. “The individual pieces have too much fine detail.”

“Well, they don’t have to look the same,” Gil said. “They are just representative of what they are.”

“What do you mean?” Digby asked, looking at Gil.

Gil, who was still a little frightened of Digby, slowly moved forward to the table. An opportunity for some redemption in the eyes of Luna was not something Gil was going to pass up. Grabbing one of the simpler pieces, a pawn, he raised it.

“That piece here is a basic foot soldier. All we need you to do is create something that represents that,” Gil said. “It doesn’t have to be exactly the same.”

Digby looked Gil up and down somewhat suspiciously until Jonas nodded. “Gil’s, a regular customer. He knows his stuff.”

Digby’s entire view of the boy changed with Jonas’ endorsement. Noticing, Gil moved in closer. Jonas placed some paper and a pencil on the table where Gil could reach it.

“Can you show us what you mean?” Digby asked.

“Of course, I can,” Gil said. “I know you will have trouble getting the small details of the figures, but I think we can simplify them while making them look more elegant.”

“Yea, that crown on the king piece had me worried,” Jonas said.

Soon, Jonas and Gil were excitedly working out some minor changes to the chess pieces. Roland, who had stepped back after finishing his part, watched as the dwarf, giant, and small boy worked together. To Roland's surprise, Gil seamlessly answered the others' concerns.

“This would be the front, and this is the back of the piece,” Gil pointed to the page he had drawn on. “What do you think?”

“That shouldn’t be an issue, but what about this one?” Jonas asked, grabbing a bishop off the table.”

“For that, what if we do something like this?” Gil offered, taking the pencil to the paper once more.

Digby nodded as he watched Gil draw. “That would be a lot easier to cast.”

“I’ll say, Gil, I don’t think this will be a problem,” Jonas added.

“Really?” Roland said, feeling left out.

It was the first time Roland had seen Gil working with professionals. It was amazing to take in. The boy seemed to have a great deal of knowledge about how things worked. Roland had, of course, acknowledged Gil’s achievements in the past, but he had never entirely attributed them to Gil.

Luna was amazed by how at home Gil seemed. He was not an average child. Mr. Stevens had said Gil was unique, and she was seeing that for herself.

“I get it,” Jonas said, handing the page off to Digby.

“That’s astounding,” Digby remarked, looking at Gil’s drawing. “If we do those corrections, we shouldn’t have any issues.”

“Not a lick of trouble,” Jonas said.

Gil smiled, relieved that the pieces could be easily cast by smoothing out some details. Gil was mostly just removing the hard edges and rounding them off. Roland and Luna looked on in disbelief at Gil matching the master craftsmen.

Finally, Jonas nodded and said, “I think that’s it. We could even make as many pieces as you wanted.”

Gil looked up at Digby to see if he also understood the changes. Digby’s expression let him know the man more than understood. The Metal Worker’s Guild had always delivered the work Gil wanted correctly, so he was confident the project was in the right hands.

Digby gathered up all the pages they had drawn on and looked them over. “Don’t suppose you would want a job with the guild, Gil?”

“No, I already turned down the Carpenter’s Guild,” Gil replied.

“Wood is nice, but metal is forever,” Jonas said.

Luna, hearing that Gil had already turned down the Carpenter’s Guild and just turned down the Metal Worker’s Guild, studied him further. Not only was the boy’s behavior abnormal, but to have two guilds wanting to hire him was unheard of. Gil’s talent was exceptional.

“This will work,” Digby said.

“Good, that’s what I thought,” Gil said.

“You have a real knack for technical drawing,” Jonas complemented.

Digby looked over to see a puzzled expression on Roland and the elf’s face. They had witnessed the entire conversation but had no real idea of what they had seen. Moving over towards them, Digby took the pages with him.

“That little helper of yours has an eye for metalwork,” Digby said.

“Yes, he seems to have plenty of talents,” Roland stated, looking over at Gil.

“Well, what he did was change the basic form of the pieces to make them easier to mold,” Digby explained, showing the pages Gil had drawn on. “The Merchant’s Guild could cast as many pieces as they require with Gil’s new designs.”

Jonas added, “One or a hundred, it wouldn’t make a difference.”

Roland’s eyes lit up at the thought of casting multiple pieces with the same mold. Wealthy nobles could get a lesser quality set that mimicked the kings. Sure, minor changes would have to be made, but Roland thought about the price such a set would demand.

“We do need to know what metals you want to use,” Digby said.

“What do you think of gold for one side and silver for another?” Gil asked. “Or honestly, we wouldn’t have to use gold. They could be gold-plated or even bronze.”

“Gold and silver!” Roland exclaimed. “That’s perfect.”

“If you go gold, it would probably have to be coated, with gold being such a soft metal. A bronze set would be cheaper and more sturdy,” Gil added.

“This is a set for the king. Cost is no object,” Roland said. Fully aware that the Merchant’s Guild was footing the bill.

We really should go with the bronze. It’s just a board game. Roland, however, left out of the earlier discussions, insisted they cast two silver sets and cover one with a thick layer of gold. Gil figured either would work, so he kept his feelings about the bronze to himself.

Luna took a small notebook from the handbag she carried and hastily wrote some notes about everything discussed. Moving over towards Digby, she calculated the price and got a better look at the pages Gil had drawn. Looking over Gil’s drawings, Luna could see they were on an advanced level, much like the ones in her father’s spellbooks.

“Is that all?” Luna asked, looking over at Roland.

“For our first stop, yes. We still need a board for the new pieces,” Roland said.

The trio left the office and then the building. Gil found himself being helped back into the carriage. When everyone was seated, they headed over to the Carpenter’s Guild.

Gil was more comfortable at the Carpenter’s Guild, as he had visited it so many times. Roland held the front door open, and Gil was the first inside. Looking around, he was surprised to see a very familiar face.

“Jack!” Gil said, running over to his friend.

“Hello Gil,” Jack said.

“What are you doing? How long have you been in town?” Gil asked.

“I just got back a few days ago. It’s winter break at the academy,” Jack said. “I’m just helping my father.”

As Roland and Luna entered the building, they saw Gil talking to Jack and Mr. Brooks. They moved over to the table to join the conversation, but found it had nothing to do with why they had visited. Gil, Jack, and Mr. Brooks didn’t pay Roland or Luna any attention.

“How is the magic academy going?” Gil asked. “It sounds like a dream come true.”

“Very well. He seems to really like Kingstown,” Mr. Brooks said, patting Jack on the shoulder.

“I do like it. Hey, do you want to see something?” Jack asked.

“Of course,” Gil said.

“Illumina questo spazio,” Jack cast a spell.

Gil watched as Jack moved his arms and spoke some words he didn’t know. It was a light spell, and soon the interior of the guild was much brighter. Gil’s eyes widened, seeing magic so close to him for the first time.

“That’s amazing. I can’t believe it,” Gil said, looking at the floating ball that was creating the light.

“It’s just an early spell,” Jack said, feeling a little embarrassed by Gil’s praise.

“So what brings you in today, Gil?” Mr. Brooks asked.

“Oh, Roland and I are here to order something for the king,” Gil said, not really thinking about anything but the floating white ball.

“The king?” Mr. Brooks asked.

“We have a custom order for the king,” Roland said, finding his opening.

The words ‘the king’ brought Mr. Brooks’ attention to Roland.

“We need a custom chessboard. Of the highest quality,” Roland said.

“You’re making something for the king?” Jack asked.

“Yea, he wants a chess set,” Gil replied. “We’re even going to Kingstown to deliver it.”

“What? I’ve been in Kingstown an entire year now and I haven’t seen the king once,” Jack said. “He hardly ever makes public appearances.”

“I was planning on stopping by the Royal Magic Academy. when I’m there. I want to see Frederick. He’s the one who helped me.” Gil patted his leg.

“I see a lot of Frederick. He’s one of the instructors,” Jack said. “If it wasn’t for him, I’m not sure I would have been able to go to the academy.”

“How would it differ from the regular boards?” Mr. Brooks asked, recovering from his shock of an order for the king.

“I think making it a table would be nice,” Roland said.

“What?” Mr. Brooks asked.

“It was really nice to see you again. I should probably go and help Roland,” Gil said. “Jack, your magic is amazing, I wish I could do that.”

“Yea, maybe when you’re in Kingstown, we can visit some more,” Jack replied.

“I would like that,” Gil said with a nod.

“A table about so,” Roland said, stretching out his arms.

“If it’s a table, it won’t be very portable,” Gil chimed in, stepping over beside Roland.

Roland, having been left out of the technical talk back at the Metal Worker’s Guild, tried to dominate the conversation. Gil thought that a table idea was stupid. The problem with a table was that the game always had to be played using it.

“It has to be your finest wood,” Roland said. “Only the finest materials for the king.”

Gil sighed. “I guess we’re doing a table.”

“So the chessboard is going to be at the top of the table?” Mr. Brooks asked.

“Exactly,” Roland said.

Luna was over at the side, making notes on what Roland, Gil, and Mr. Brooks were discussing. Roland would say what he wanted, and Gil would take that idea and turn it into something practical. In the end, a small table made of wood lined on the top with alternating pieces of thick stone tiles to make up the board was agreed upon.

“I want drawers on each side to keep the pieces like mine has,” Roland said.

That made more sense to Gil. If they were going with a table, it might as well have storage. The design on the table’s edges would be left up to the head of the Carpenter’s Guild himself. Luna recorded all this down in her little notebook just as she had done at the Metal Worker’s Guild.

There was nothing to do but wait with all the items for the chess set ordered. Roland looked worried, but Gil was relieved to have passed the work on to someone else. Gil was confident the right people were on the job.

Chapter 39: Prezels

The following day, Gil started working on a recipe for pretzels. It was a complex concept to get across to Judy, as she was primarily versed in making sweets. Gil realized they were going to be more complicated than cinnamon rolls.

“It would be nice to have them for the harvest festival,” Gil said. “Speaking of which, will you be available that night to work?”

“I can,” Judy said.

“That’s good.” Gil breathed out a sigh of relief. “I expect us to be really busy. Help me remember to tell Barry.”

“Ok, I can do that,” Judy said.

The bell on the front door sounded and Gil went to see who it was. Expecting to find Roland and Luna, he instead saw Jack standing there. Gil moved up to the counter and waved.

“Hey what brings you by?” Gil asked.

“I heard you bought the bakery. I just didn’t believe it,” Jack said. “You own all this?”

“Sure do. Hey, you have got to try this,” Gil said, going back to grab a fresh cinnamon roll.

Gil handed the soft gooey roll over to Jack. Looking the treat over, Jack took a bite. Gil waited for his reaction.

“That’s really good,” Jack commented. “There’s a specialty shop in Kingstown that sells sweets, but I think you have them beat.”

“Thank you for the compliment. That’s a cinnamon roll, just one of the new items we sell here at The Sweet Bakery,” Gil said.

“I saw the sign coming in,” Jack said. “You have really changed this place.”

“He sure has,” Judy said, finally making her way up front.

“Judy!” Jack exclaimed. “How are you and your brothers?”

“We are all doing well. Barry should be in to work shortly, and Cam will be with him.”

“Really?” Jack asked.

“Yea, why not make yourself at home and you can talk to them when they get here,” Gil said.

Jack moved into the back and watched Judy and Gil work. Taking a seat, it wasn’t long before Barry and Cam arrived. As Barry, Judy, and Gil finished up their work, Cam and Jack caught up.

“Are you going to the harvest festival?” Cam asked.

“I am,” Jack said.

“Oh, that reminds me. Barry, can you work the night of the harvest festival?” Gil asked. “Judy already said she could.”

“I guess,” Barry replied.

“I’ll give you a long break so you can still go out and play some of the games. I just think we might be really busy.”

“Alright, as long as I get some time to enjoy it,” Barry said.

Judy, Barry, and Gil finished their morning preparations before opening. Cam and Jack hung out with them in the back, occasionally helping with small tasks like filling the front case. I really need to hire another employee, this is going a lot faster with Jack and Cam here.

When the lunch rush ended, Jack looked over at Gil. “Is it always this busy?”

“It has been,” Gil said. “I think the harvest festival coming up has everyone excited.”

“Thanks for helping us,” Judy uttered.

“Tom will be mad he missed you,” Barry said. “He’s been working with Father lately.”

“I’m sure I’ll see him at the festival.” “Speaking of work, I should head out and see if my father needs any help.”

Cam and Jack both left the bakery together.

“It was nice to see Jack,” Barry said.

“He did a magic light spell over at the Carpenter’s Guild,” Gil said.

“Really?” Judy asked.

“It was something to see. I guess he’s doing well in Kingstown.”

With only a couple of days left before the harvest festival, Gil and Judy set to work trying to make pretzels.

“They’re not sweet?” Judy questioned.

“No, it's salty and crunchy. Like tiny thin round hard breadsticks,” Gil answered.

Eventually, Gil got Judy to understand and put her exceptional skills to use. After several failures, it appeared they might never create what Gil wanted. Judy was trying everything she knew to make a pretzel.

“Try this,” Judy said.

Gil took a bite. “That’s a soft pretzel. What we need to do is turn that into a much smaller hard stick.”

Using the soft version as a foundation, Judy made the pretzels smaller. However, the size was not the only issue, and Judy soon hit another roadblock. As they tweaked the recipe repeatedly, they seemed to be getting nowhere.

When the night of the harvest festival arrived, Gil’s predictions were correct. The bakery sold out of everything they had. At the end of the night, he looked over the numbers and saw they had done a full week's business in only a few hours. It was a tiring experience.

“We survived,” Barry said.

“I guess we might as well close up and catch the parade,” Gil said.

After cleaning, the group headed out to see the parade. Judy held Gil’s hand as they watched. The next day, it was back to business as usual.

“Now about pretzels,” Gil said.

“I don’t know if we can do it,” Judy said, tired of experimenting.

“If anyone can, sis can,” Barry encouraged.

“We’re getting close. Something’s just not right,” Gil said.

It was then that Judy had an idea. If they blanched the bread before cooking it, maybe they could get something different. Submerging the dough in water before being cooked did result in a change.

“It’s still not quite right,” Gil sighed.

“Are you sure we can even make this?” Judy asked.

“I think we have everything we need. It just takes a step we aren’t doing,” Gil said. “Let’s stop for now and think it over.”

The cold winter weather kept Judy and Gil away from the shop the following day. It was a disappointment, as he wanted to get a pretzel recipe done before Luna visited again. The snowfall was lighter, but it was too risky to travel.

“How long do you think the snow will last?” Gil asked.

“It’s not much. I would guess a day or two,” Cam said, scratching his head.

It took two days for the snow to melt enough for William to allow Gil to travel to Brighton. Returning to the bakery, Judy and Gil set about trying to make pretzels again. Judy, during their time off, had thought about the changes needed. Adding baking soda to the blanching mix changed the solution to one more alkaline.

“Hey, that’s not bad,” Gil said, biting into one of the sticks.

"Let me try one," Barry said.

“Is that it?” Judy asked happily.

“Well, not exactly, it’s too lightly colored, but it’s the closest we have gotten,” Gil responded. “And if we can’t get any better, it will do.”

“It's crunchy,” Barry said.

“Hmm, Maybe I can work with it some more,” Judy said, not content with her recipe being second place.

“They need to be a dark brown,” Gil said, looking over at them. “It’s too pale.”

A quick brush of butter on the next batch fixed Gil’s complaint. Judy had created the first hard-stick pretzels in the kingdom. From there, they only needed some minor changes to get the recipe even closer to what Gil remembered.

“That’s it!” Gil said, crunching on one.

“Really?” Judy said, looking over at Gil.

“Yea, you did it!” Gil exclaimed, taking another bite.

Eventually, both the hard and soft versions of the pretzels found their way onto the menu. Judy took great pride in her recipes being added to the bakery. Barry’s hours were increased to help cover the extra prep work. The bakery that had once only had a single item had come a long way, having the most extensive menu in Brighton.

The debut of the pretzels was sadly not what Gil had hoped for. Only a few brave customers tried them. Disappointed, Gil looked at the pan in the glass display case.

“Well, we didn’t sell any today,” Judy said, looking at the pretzels.

“Yea, the pretzels don't sell as fast as the sweet goods,” Barry said.

“So the pretzels aren’t selling?” Gil asked, already knowing the answer.

“Well, I did sell some yesterday, but we have a lot leftover,” Judy added. “They do keep longer than the bread.”

“I sold some to a wolf-looking man,” Barry said.

“I guess that’s good,” Gil said.

The week passed quickly, and while the pretzels were not the huge sellers Gil had hoped for, they did attract some new customers. Beastmen and dwarves seemed to like them better than the sweet items the bakery sold. Gil could see the pretzels selling better if more of those races were around.

Arriving early one morning, Gil and Judy set about doing the prep work as usual. Working across from each other at the table, Judy smiled at Gil. As the dough was being laid out in loaf pans, the bell from the front door sounded.

“Hey, Gil,” Cam said, coming into the bakery.

“What are you doing here?” Gil asked.

“Roland picked me up, says we’re going clothes shopping?” Cam said with a shrug.

“Hey Cam,” Judy greeted from the back table.

“Barry not here yet?” Cam asked.

“No not yet,” Judy said.

The door to the bakery opened again, and Roland, followed by Luna, entered. Seeing the elf, Gil smiled and hoped all the hard work Judy and him had put into making the pretzels would pay off. While it was something Gil had wanted to make, the pretzels had been prioritized just for Luna.

“Well, come on back. I should be ready in a few minutes,” Gil said.

“Do you have any of those rolls you gave us last time?” Roland asked.

“Not yet. Sorry, I do have something new for you to try,” Gil said.

Gil looked over at his older brother, who seemed less happy about being dragged around so early. It made Gil smile, seeing Cam realize how inconvenient meeting the king truly was. Leading the group to the back, Gil moved over to the display case.

“We have a big day planned for you two boys,” Roland said.

“We’ve been working on a new recipe for the shop,” Gil said. “You need to try it.”

“What is it?” Cam asked.

“Hold on,” Gil replied, scooping up some of the day-old pretzels into small bags. “Here, try this,” Gil said, handing a bag to each of them.

“What’s this?” Luna asked cautiously.

“It’s not sweet,” Gil explained. “It’s crunchy. It’s called a pretzel.”

“A prezel?” Luna questioned, trying to say the word.

“No, a pretzel,” Gil said, emphasizing the ‘t.’

“What on earth is a pretzel?” Roland asked.

“It's a hard, salty breadstick,” Gil replied. “Try them.”

Luna wasn't sure about the bag of treats she held. Looking down at them suspiciously, she touched one and rolled it around in her fingers. Luna’s previous trip to the bakery had been less than ideal for her.

Luna held the pretzel between two of her fingers and stared at it. It was a deep golden brown round stick. Moving it closer, she could see that the surface glistened with tiny crystals. Unsure about such a thing, she looked over at Gil, who was eagerly waiting for her to try it.

“Go ahead. I think you’ll like it.”

“Not bad,” Roland said, crunching on one.

“I don’t know?” Cam said. “It’s not a cinnamon roll.”

“Hey Cam,” Barry said, coming in the back door and seeing his friend there.

Judy watched as Luna took a bite of her latest creation. Suddenly, it dawned on her that all the hard work she had put in to get the recipe just right had been for the elf the whole time. Of all the things Gil could have done, that one especially angered her.

Judy frowned as Gil fawned over the elf woman. Turning back to her work, upset, she sighed. To her, Gil had played a cruel trick.

Much to Luna's surprise, the crisp, salty taste was delicious. Luna smiled as she ate another one. Seeing her smile, Gil felt relieved. Everyone except maybe Cam seemed to think the pretzels were good.

“It is crunchy,” Luna said, tilting her head slightly to one side. “I like that.”

Gil breathed out a sigh of relief. “It wouldn’t have been possible without Judy’s help. They will also make you thirsty if you eat too many. We made a soft version as well. It's the same thing but bigger and softer.”

“Can I try that?” Cam asked.

“I like the softer ones,” Barry stated.

“Of course, I'll cut one up so we can all try a bite,” Gil said.

“It’s soft and doughy,” Luna said. “I like the harder ones better, but it’s ok.”

“I like the soft one better, myself,” Cam said. “It’s like bread but with something extra. Though the cinnamon rolls are the best.”

“I think I’m partial to the sweet rolls myself. Though the pretzels are tasty, they might be better to travel with,” Roland added.

“I don’t care for sweets,” Luna said.

Moving over to the table, Gil could see some sweet rolls cooling. Reaching out and touching them, he could tell they had cooled enough to be iced. Applying the icing over the top, Gil handed one to Cam and one to Roland. Remembering how Roland was with them last time, Gil wrapped up a couple of the sweet sticky rolls for him to enjoy later.

“Today, we are taking you and your brother clothes shopping,” Roland explained.

“Clothes shopping?” Gil questioned.

In Gil’s opinion, clothing had to be worn just the right amount to become comfortable. It did make a lot of sense that they would need new clothes. People always dress up to see someone of importance in all the movies and stories.

“One cannot meet the king wearing the clothes you have on,” Luna said between bites of crunchy pretzels.

“You and your brother look like the sons of a woodcarver,” Roland remarked.

“We are,” Gil said.

Proper attire was something Gil understood. Wearing a business suit to a meeting could help get a deal. However, as Gil saw it, he wasn’t going to a business meeting. Gil was going to lunch. Dressing up just to dress up was something he wasn’t fond of.

“You are far more than that,” Luna added.

While Gil hadn’t been trying to get Luna to acknowledge him, it was somehow comforting. Gil was aware that meeting a king was a big deal, but he was not happy about the preparations. Looking over at Cam, he could see an expression of annoyance on his brother's face too.

“It’s important you both look your best,” Roland said.

“You’ll have to show me what clothes you get,” Judy said.

Cam didn't think they needed new clothes. They didn’t dress up in the small cabin they lived in. Sure, what they were wearing were worn and re-stitched a few times, but it was very functional.

“In addition to the clothes, you both will have to be trained in some proper royal etiquette as well,” Roland said. “One needs proper manners and poise to meet a king.”

Gil sighed. So that’s what this is all about, then?
It’s not just clothes shopping, but a whole lot more. It all seemed like a waste of his time, taking him away from his businesses. Gil looked over at Cam, who also seemed less than pleased about the news.

“What?” Cam asked.

Gil wondered if he could use the excuse of the bakery to get out of what lay ahead. Thinking over such a proposal, he looked at Judy with pleading eyes, looking to be rescued. Seeing Gil’s reluctance to participate, Judy came over to the group.

“Barry and I have everything under control here,” Judy said proudly. “So go enjoy yourselves.”

Judy had decided she would punish Gil for treating Luna better than he did her. Cutting off his only avenue for escape, Gil sighed. Judy waved as the four of them made their way out of the bakery and onto the street.

Chapter 40: The Clothes Make The Boy

Roland’s carriage stopped in front of one of the clothing shops in town. The shop itself was nothing more than a large tent. Gil and Cam had passed it many times before without a second glance. Roland, being a friend of the owner, had insisted to Luna that they start there.

“Now remember, we want nice clothing. Something fit for the king,” Roland said.

Luna nodded. “The guild is picking up the costs.”

The shop itself didn’t have as good a selection as Brighton's other two clothing stores. Roland, however, valued friendships, and if he could give his merchant buddy some business, all the better. Roland stepped out of the carriage first and held the door open for Luna.

“This here is one of the friendlier clothing shops in the village. The owner, Krill, is a good friend of mine,” Roland said. “We should be able to find what we need, hopefully.”

The ‘hopefully’ part of what Roland had said grabbed Gil’s attention.

“Let’s go, Gil,” Cam said.

“Do you think they will have what we are looking for?” Luna asked, sounding unimpressed by the outside of the tent.

“It’s a good place to start. Besides, we are dressing boys, not men,” Roland said his face far less assured.

Cam held Gil steady as he descended the steps. When all four of them were safely on the ground, Roland led the way. Before entering the doorway, Luna wrote down the shop’s name in her book, ‘Krill’s Clothing.’

“Hello, how can I help you?” the shop attendant asked, looking over the group.

“Is Krill around?” Roland asked.

“He’s not here right now,” came the reply from the attendant.

“Very well. We are looking for your finest clothing options for the boys here,” Roland said.

“We should have several things in stock, though I think the smaller boy might be hard to fit,” the attendant said, looking over at Gil.

Gil was physically small, and it might be hard to find the right clothing style. The boys were quickly ushered off to a dressing room. Luna looked through the clothing racks, and Roland brought outfits to them.

“This might be harder than I thought,” Roland said, looking over the clothes he was carrying.

“It’s an important meeting, and we need to make sure the clothes are just right,” Luna replied.

“Of course,” Roland said, dropping the clothes off in the dressing room.

“Another one?” Cam asked.

“Just try them on one at a time and step out so we can take a look,” Roland said.

Gil and Cam tried on the various outfits Roland brought to them. Once they were dressed in the latest choice, they would emerge from the dressing room to be judged by Roland and Luna.

Gil looked over at Cam and sighed. “This is the third one I’ve tried. They are all too big for me.”

Cam, slipping on a pair of pants, could feel his brother’s pain. “I know, how many do you think it will take?”

“I don’t know,” Gil said.

Each clothing selection was accompanied by a head shake ‘No’ from Luna. No matter which clothes Cam and Gil tried on, none were good enough for the king. They were several clothing choices in when Gil realized that this could be a very long trip.

“I don’t see anything I like,” Roland said.

“I agree. We need to try a different shop,” Luna responded.

Roland sighed. While it was an important meeting, he wasn’t sure an outfit suitable for it could be acquired in Brighton. Had they been in a larger city, the choices offered would almost certainly have been better. Still, they were here, and taking the boys out of the village was not something Roland wanted to do.

Roland was afraid of William. While he had been willing to agree to the trip, even Roland could see that he was not happy about it. In his eyes, William was an obstacle best avoided.

“Well, that’s the last one,” Luna said as Cam emerged from the dressing room.

“Put back on your regular clothes. We are going to try another shop. Nothing here is good enough,” Roland added with a sigh.

Realizing what he had just said, Roland quickly looked around to ensure his friend, Krill, the shop owner, was nowhere nearby. Roland didn’t want to hurt the man's feelings. Fortunately for him, the shop’s owner was still out of business.

Cam, with a groan, returned to the dressing room. “They said we have to go somewhere else.”

“I heard,” Gil said.

“It's a pity we can’t go out of Brighton,” Roland said.

“We need to give the local shops a chance,” Luna replied. “The king is expecting a boy from here.”

Luna’s reasoning was more complicated than Roland’s. From a protection point of view, it was far easier to protect Gil in a village of a few hundred than in a city of thousands. As the boys emerged from the dressing room, they headed out of the tent.

“Even if it takes all day, we need to find something suitable,” Roland said.

Cam, hearing all day, sighed. “Could it really take all day, Gil?”

“I hope not,” Gil said, unsure. “There are only three clothing shops in Brighton, so I doubt it.”

“That's true.” Cam smiled at his brother. “Only three.”

The four of them found themselves loaded back into the carriage. They were off to the second-best clothing store in Brighton. Arriving, Gil could see the bakery from outside the store. Luna had to half-pull Gil in as he tried to convince them the bakery needed his help.

“More clothes,” Cam said.

The boys were shown the dressing room, and the pattern was repeated. The boys' distaste for shopping was on full display. I’m essentially a fashion prisoner.

“What about that one?” Roland asked.

“No, it’s still not right,” Luna said, shaking her head.

“What about this?” Cam faked excitement.

It was Cam’s attempt to make the situation better. Luna looked him over and had him turn around. The clothes fit him well, and while not as fancy as Roland seemed to think the boys needed, Luna nodded.

“That will work, Cam,” Luna said.

“Alright!” Cam cheered.

Cam, not being the one the king had requested to see, had some advantages in trying on clothes. Being the first to have found something, Cam was given a coveted position, allowing him to critique Gil’s latest outfit.

“I don’t like it,” Cam said as Gil glared at him.

“Turn around,” Luna said.

Gil obliged, and Luna shook her head. “No, we can do better.”

Luna looked over at Gil and could see that he was already drained from popping in and out of the dressing room. Unfortunately, she couldn't help but be picky. Gil was the very reason the trip to the castle was happening.

“Try on another one,” Luna said.

By this time, even Roland was starting to get tired. So a couple of outfits later and several nods no from Luna meant they would have to try the last clothing shop. It was officially the best clothing shop in Brighton, but Roland didn’t care much for the shop’s owner.

“This village might not have the right outfit,” Roland commented.

“There is always something for everyone. We just haven't found it yet for Gil,” Luna said.

“This store is a favorite of some of my noble customers,” Roland said.

Arriving at the last shop, Luna and Roland quickly assembled a large pile of outfits. Just looking at the mound of clothes, Gil was beginning to lose all hope. The only thing keeping Gil going was Cam’s expression, that of a man with no hope left. Cam had initially thought he would be released once he had found his outfit, but they were still dragging him along to each stop.

“How’s this?” Gil asked.

Gil looked at his older brother, and his misery gave him a little motivation as he paraded about. The outfit was a ‘no,’ and soon Gil was back trying on the next selection. Stepping out of the dressing booth, Gil marched forward towards Luna and Roland. Luna smiled brightly and clapped her hands together.

“That’s it,” Luna said.

“I think you're right,” Roland added.

“It’s perfect,” Cam said, having long since given up trying to prolong Gil’s pain.

Gil’s view of the clothes he was wearing was that it was the same or almost the same outfit he had tried on back at the first location. However, with Luna’s approval, he was happy to change back into his clothes. Luna again wrote everything down in her book.

Kneeling down beside Gil, Luna pulled a bracelet from her bag. “You just need one last detail.”

Gil was confused by what was happening. Gil looked Luna in the eyes as she pulled the boy’s right arm towards her and slipped the bracelet onto him. Little shivers went up and down Gil's spine.

“What's this for?” Gil questioned.

“Something to help remember today,” Luna said.

The bracelet was shiny and more than a little feminine. Gil wasn’t sure if it looked good on his tiny frame or not. The bracelet hung loosely at first, but then, before Gil's eyes, it reformed into a thicker, more masculine bracelet, while at the same time, it also tightened to fit him.

“It’s magical?” Gil asked.

Luna held a finger to her mouth for him to keep quiet. “It's a gift.”

“A gift?” Gil questioned, looking at it.

Soon, the bracelet fit perfectly and looked good even on his slim child-like arm. Gil turned his arm to see it from as many angles as possible. Confused, he looked over at Luna.

“This seems like a lot,” Gil said.

“That old thing?” Luna asked, trying to downplay the gesture.

Up to that point, Gil had been ready to forget the day entirely. However, receiving a gift from Luna made it worth remembering. Reaching out, he touched the bracelet with his other hand, and it again sent cool shivers up his back.

“We had better get going. The others will be waiting on us,” Luna said.

Gil nodded as he twisted the bracelet around his wrist. Luna had made it seem like it was just an accessory to match his new outfit, but Gil knew ordinary jewelry didn't resize and reshape itself. It had to be magical.

“Thank you,” Gil said, not sure of what he should say.

Luna just smiled. When everyone was back in the carriage, it took off. The long day of clothes shopping had made them exhausted.

“What do you have there?” Cam asked.

“It’s a bracelet. Luna gave it to me,” Gil answered.

“It was just a gift. To match his new clothes,” Luna said.

“I think it looks fine on the boy. Adds a needed professional look to him,” Roland said.

Cam admired the bracelet. Though he felt jealous that Gil was the only one to receive such an item, a small part of him was also content. Jewelry was not something knights wore, but merchants often did.

On the ride back to the bakery, Gil played with the bracelet on his arm. He was twisting it about and admiring the strange markings on it. While he couldn’t make out what they were, Gil figured it was most likely elvish writing.

Roland dropped Gil and Cam off at the bakery. It was late afternoon by that time. With Pip still at the cabin, everyone had to walk home. It had been a long time since Gil had made that walk, and Judy slowed her pace to match his.

“We had to try on like a million clothes,” Cam said.

“Really?” Barry asked.

“And what’s this?” Judy asked, grabbing Gil’s arm. “You didn’t have that this morning.”

“It’s a gift,” Gil said quietly, trying to downplay it.

“Yea, it was from the elf,” Cam added. “I didn’t get one.”

“What!?” Judy exclaimed.

“Luna gave it to him,” Cam said as if Judy hadn’t heard him the first time. “I’m glad I didn’t get one. Knights don't wear that kind of stuff.”

Gil’s face turned bright red at Cam’s abruptness. The bracelet was silver in color, and the design was elegant. It was, without a doubt, an expensive piece of jewelry. Easily rivaling the pieces Judy’s mother had.

While not a jewelry expert, Judy knew it had to be an expensive item. Jealousy shot through her as she thought of Luna giving Gil such an extravagant gift. Judy released Gil’s arm and breathed out angrily.

“What do you think about it?” Gil asked.

“I suppose it looks alright,” Judy said.

Judy wanted to scream that it was a stupid-looking childish accessory. However, her real feelings were that the bracelet looked perfect on Gil’s arm. She wasn't about to acknowledge that fact out loud.

When the boys finally made it home, William also took notice of the bracelet. While adventuring, he had seen several items similar to it. Walking into the kitchen, he grabbed a knife.

“Gil, come sit down for a minute,” William said, moving over to the table.

Gil took a seat, curious about what William was doing.

“Where did you get that bracelet?” William asked.

“Luna,” Gil replied.

William brought the knife over towards Gil’s arm.

“It’s a protection charm,” William said, as the end of the knife seemed to move on its own away from Gil.

“I knew it was magical,” Gil said wide-eyed.

William wasn’t sure what to make of the bracelet. It was clear to him that Luna was not just a Merchant’s Guild representative, as she claimed. Bracelets like the one Gil wore were common accessories among adventurers.

Chapter 41: Luna, Judy, and Gil

Though it had been mild for the second year in a row, it was winter, which marked another year. For their year's journey, William gave each of the boys a gift. For Cam, it was a gold coin, to put into his savings for the Royal Knight Academy. For Gil, it was a new pair of boots. Gil had a surprise for William as well, having saved a small barrel of apple whiskey just for him. Gil was now ten and Cam was thirteen.

Gil wasn’t sure why Luna had given him the bracelet or what such a gesture meant. Part of him wanted to think it was more than just a simple gift. The reality being it was for protection made him doubt that was the case.

Stopping to pick up Judy, she looked over at him. For a moment, with her hands around Gil, everything seemed right in the world. Then a sparkle on Gil’s wrist brought her back to reality. Judy grabbed Gil’s arm and pulled it closer to her head to examine it. With one of her fingers, she rotated the bracelet around his wrist.

Inside, Judy’s hatred towards Luna grew, and she scrunched up her face. The gift was something she couldn’t match. For the first time, Judy doubted her destiny with Gil, and a tear fell down her cheek.

“It’s a protection charm,” Gil said with a shrug.

“Really?” Judy asked with a sniffle as she wiped the tear away.

“Yea, William told me a little about it,” Gil said. “They are popular with adventurers.”

To Judy, that meant the jewelry was not a gift out of affection but one for protection. Nodding, she thought it over. It probably meant the elf had given it to Gil simply because he would be going on the trip. That made sense, Kingstown was a long way off.

“How was clothes shopping?” Judy asked.

“It was alright, I guess,” Gil said. “We both found some new clothes that will work for the visit to the king.”

“That’s good,” Judy said. “Yesterday was a busy day. We even sold some pretzels.”

“Really?” Gil asked.

“A couple of bags,” Judy said.

Gil nodded. “That’s not bad.”

The two rode in silence as Judy thought about the bracelet the rest of the way. Opening the door, they went into the bakery. Gil looked over the remaining stock, while Judy started her morning prep work.

A couple of hours later, Barry and Cam arrived. As they walked in through the back door, Barry moved over to the ovens. Cam walked over to the prep table to see if anything was already done.

“Yesterday was sure something,” Cam said.

“Yea, I don’t think I want to go shopping ever again,” Gil said.

“Even if it’s with Luna?” Cam teased.

Judy, though she had her back to the boys, could still hear them.

“Well, maybe if it was with her,” Gil said. “But I think I might have done enough clothes shopping for the rest of my life.”

“I don’t know, she’s something. Plus you got that fancy bracelet.”

“Yeah,” Gil said, letting himself think about Luna.

Abruptly, Gil was brought out of his daydream by the sound of Judy crying. Normally Judy didn’t cry, but Cam had just confirmed what she already suspected. Gil clearly had a crush on Luna.

“Gil and Luna,” Cam teased.

Cam had a way of inadvertently making things worse, and he had done just that. Gil looked over at Judy, worried. Moving over to her quickly, he tried to find out the trouble.

“Are you hurt?” Gil asked.

Judy shook her head. “No.”

“Then what is it?” Gil asked.

“It’s that damn elf!” she yelled, clearly upset. “Everything was perfect before she came along.”

Barry looked over at his sister and shook his head. All Judy ever talked about at home was Gil, the bakery, and what she thought her future with him would be like. It was obvious to Barry what had happened, but stuck between his boss and sister, he knew better than to say anything.

“Luna?” Gil questioned.

Judy shook her head and took several deep breaths to calm herself. “I’m fine, it’s fine.”

“Okay, if you say so,” Gil said, skeptically. Is she jealous of Luna? “Hey, Cam, can you help out? I think we should make a batch of whiskey.”

“Sure, I can do that,” Cam said, still unaware of what was going on around him.

Gil led the way, and soon the two brothers were outside by the still. Looking over at Cam, Gil sighed deeply. It was apparent that Cam didn’t know the trouble he had just caused.

“You didn’t have to say that around Judy,” Gil said.

“Say what?” Cam asked, confused.

“About me liking Luna,” Gil said. “It might be best if we don’t talk too much about Luna around her. I think she seems jealous.”

“Oh?” Cam said with a shrug.

“Yea, the bracelet seems to have caused some problems,” Gil said, holding up his right arm.

Gil and Cam began to gather up the ingredients. Starting the preparations to make a batch, Gil pointed over to the barrels. Cam nodded and walked that way. Grabbing one of the empty ones, he moved it over to them.

“I’ll start the fire,” Gil said. “You can pour water into the boiler.”

Cam moved over to the well and filled the barrel. Lifting it high over his head, he moved back over to the still. Gil watched his brother pour the water.

“Hey, do you think you can find me another reliable worker?” Gil asked. “I’m going to need someone else to help when we’re on our trip.”

“Sure, I can,” Cam replied, full of confidence.

Before lighting a fire under the still, Gil went inside to see how Judy was doing. Fortunately, she had stopped crying. Moving over next to her, Gil looked at Judy. Not knowing what to say, he just reached out and embraced her.

Judy looked over at him. The bracelet probably didn’t have any meaning behind it, but it was still a sore spot for her. Gil realized that maybe Judy’s affection was far more than just childish nonsense. Is it possible I’ve been misreading Judy the whole time?

“Everything going to be okay?” Gil asked.

“It will,” Judy said, looking up at him.

“Got some loaves coming out,” Barry said.

Gil watched Barry unload the oven and then made his way back outside. Moving over to the still, he bent down to light it. Sitting down next to Cam, he looked over at his brother.

“I don’t understand, girls,” Gil said.

“Who does?” Cam asked.

A few days later, Cam found another potential worker named Jasper. Gil, trusting his brother’s judgment of people, hired him. Though Gil had never met Jasper before, he had heard of him from Cam. Jasper was Cam’s age, but he was shy and lived in Brighton.

“This is Jasper,” Gil said, introducing him to Judy. “She’s Judy, the bakery manager. Barry usually gets here a little later.”

Gil found Jasper to be a quick learner and was even able to teach him how to brew the alcohol. Jasper took to the work well, and though he lacked the exceptional skills Judy had, he was an acceptable baker. Jasper’s addition to the work team gave Gil more downtime, most of which he spent worrying about the upcoming trip.

Gil’s work life had become stressful, not because of the amount of business but because of Judy and Luna. Judy seemed to hold a deep resentment against the elf. While Luna, much like Cam, seemed completely oblivious.

“Thank you,” Judy said to a customer she had just helped.

Looking up, Judy saw Luna was next in line. While Gil was happy to see Luna in the bakery, he knew Judy was not. This put him in an odd position; somehow, he had to keep Judy and Luna both happy. It was an impossible task, but it had to be attempted.

Judy glared at Luna. “How can I help you?”

“I would like some prezels,” Luna said.

“One bag of prezels,” Judy said mockingly, reaching into the display case and filling the order.

Handing the pretzels over to Luna, Judy frowned. Luna paid for them and waved at Gil, who smiled back at her. Luna’s visits put Gil in an awkward situation. Since Luna was a customer, there wasn’t much he could do.

Gil started relieving Judy from the front counter when he saw her in line, keeping an eye out for her. However, that created another problem. Judy then believed Gil only took over for her to see Luna.

Luna was just checking up on Gil as she was tasked with keeping him safe. While she didn’t expect any trouble in the village, it was good to keep her eyes on him. The visits caused strange emotions for Gil because he wasn’t sure why she kept stopping by.

“Great, Luna’s now a regular,” Judy said.

“Well, we’re selling pretzels,” Barry said.

Judy shot her brother a look, telling him to remain silent.

“Hey, that’s our job,” Barry said. “Sell the baked goods.”

Does Luna see me as the man I am? Instead of the boy I appear to be? Why does she keep stopping by? It was quite the quandary and one that ran through his head constantly. Gil knew love was a strange force, but even he doubted it was that powerful.

“I wonder if it's the pretzels or related to the protection charm,” Gil said out loud.

“I doubt it’s the prezels,” Judy said, mimicking Luna’s inability to pronounce pretzel correctly.

Gil nodded in agreement. Luna’s actions were almost certainly otherwise motivated. She always seemed to be around, watching him from a distance. While initially a happy coincidence or two, it was now verging on almost stalking-like behavior.

“I think you two are just reading too much into it,” Barry said. “I would come in for a cinnamon roll every day if I didn’t work here.”

“Just how many cinnamon rolls get to the customers?” Gil asked jokingly.

“A few,” Barry said.

Why is Luna always about? Gil had far more questions than he did answers. Pondering over all these things, he wasn’t sure what to think. Making things worse, Gil’s thoughts were often interrupted by strange intruding ones.

Those thoughts almost seemed to come from an outside source. While often benign in what they offered, the thoughts caused him no end of suffering. To make matters even worse, some of the ideas attacking him seemed to contain knowledge he hadn’t learned.

Cam and Gil took Barry and Judy home as usual at the close of the day. Gil couldn’t think about anything but Judy and Luna on the ride. Getting Judy and Barry home, Cam climbed up on Pip.

Arriving back at the cabin, Gil looked over at Cam. “Hey, can I get you to lift a stone out back?” Gil asked.

“What for?” Cam asked.

“I just keep having these weird thoughts that under a large flat stone out back is some treasure,” Gil replied.

Cam shrugged. It was silly, but no sillier than the treasure hunt with Barry and Tom. Leading the way, Gil walked through the cabin. Moving over to the rock he had seen in his mind, he pointed it out. Did I see it before while working outside?

“That one,” Gil said.

“Okay,” Cam said, reaching down.

Lifting the stone, Gil discovered two copper coins. While hardly a treasure, it was something of value. Picking them up, he handed one over to Cam.

“Thank you,” Gil said.

Cam didn’t know what to think. Gil’s treasure hunt had been easier and more profitable than his. Looking at the copper coin, he bit his lower lip.

Odd occurrences like that were now common in Gil’s everyday life. It led him to believe that somehow thoughts from the boy’s body he had stolen were leaking into his own. Am I still me?

“We had better get our chores done,” Gil said.

So much had changed in Gil’s life so rapidly that he now found himself overthinking everything. It’s one thing when a person has complete control and quite another when they don’t. Convincing himself it was all just stress, Gil pushed those thoughts to the back of his head as best he could.

As the days passed this way, Judy saw differences in Gil. Dark circles under his eyes formed from a lack of sleep, and his usual easy-going personality changed into one of paranoia. Gil always seemed to be looking over his shoulder as if someone was watching him.

“Are you okay?” Judy asked.

“I… I’m fine,” Gil said.

Judy did her best to comfort Gil. It was a time-consuming task, but Judy didn’t mind because, after all, he was hers. Gil was the only person in the world who treated her like an equal, as a partner. No one, not an elf, or anyone else, would take Gil away.

With the contracts in place for the king’s chess set, there was nothing to do but wait. Roland returned to Kingstown to check on his shop. Luna continued to watch Gil, no longer running the contract line at the Merchant’s Guild.

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About The Author

Kathy Rose

Kathy is from the Midwest and started writing before she could read. One of the earliest gifts she remembers receiving was a kid’s desk with a light table for tracing, which she used to trace full pages of books. While dystopian novels are her favorite kind, she is drawn to all genres of fiction and thinks the ideal way to spend your afternoon is outside with a good book.