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here to guard our caravan, not to decide who can speak to me when and where.  First impressions are an important part of our business, and I won’t have that soiled by a simple guard who can’t hold her tongue.”

“But Minister, it’s more than obvious that these rabble—”

“Enough!  Go report to Captain Ashlen and tell him you’re reporting for punishment detail.  And to send someone to take your place here; preferably someone with a lot more tact than you’ve shown.”

Rather than argue, the guard bowed again and left, but not before throwing a murderous glance in Sterge and Gwenda’s direction.

“I apologize for her attitude – it won’t happen again; I hope you don’t take that as a reflection on us as a whole,” he said to them with an apologetic smile before Francha was even out of hearing range, which caused her to stiffen up as she walked away.  He spread his hands as if in supplication, or as a gesture of goodwill.

“She said that you don’t talk to poor people; is that true?” Gwenda asked.

The Minister appeared a little flustered.  “Ahem, well, that’s not quite true.  My normal everyday dealings are usually with those a bit more…affluent…but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about those a lot less fortunate.  Any person is a potential customer, after all, no matter what station of life they are currently in.”

“Ah, so you see those poor people only as a means to make money?”

There wasn’t any sense of apology or remorse in his voice now.  “Yes, of course – I’m a merchant at heart, and making money is what I live for.  I want to profit from everyone; I don’t discriminate.  That’s bad business, in the end.”

Sterge was instantly put at ease at the Minister’s words; it was refreshing to hear the Elf be honest about his motivations, as he knew where the merchant stood.  Most people were out to get something from someone, in his experience, and sometimes you didn’t know their true motivations until they’d done you irreparable harm. From the little he had heard about the most-powerful merchants throughout his life – and Jesper’s warning, of course – this Minister would try to take advantage of any business dealings to make the most money he possibly could; but now, with him, at least, it was kind of out in the open.

“Enough about me; what can I do for you?  I couldn’t help but overhear that you were looking for the one in charge of this caravan; if that’s true, then you’re talking to the right person.”  The merchant smiled again, with a look of curiosity on his face.  Whether it was real or fake, Sterge couldn’t tell, but he assumed it really didn’t matter.

“Yes, that’s true.  We were looking for whoever is responsible for destroying nearly an acre of these crops—” Gwenda said, spreading her hands around to indicate the trampled and destroyed wheat stalks— “and to ask for compensation.  We need this food so that we can feed everyone that is here, and if we have to resort to buying elsewhere to make up for what was ruined, then it’s going to cost even more to keep everyone fed.”

“Oh, is this your field?  I apologize for the damage; there wasn’t enough room to set up anywhere else, since the rest of this small village seems to be infested with dirty Raiders in tents or lean-tos.  Would you happen to know who owns this land?  I would speak with them about buying all of the area around here – including this field – at a decent price, which would help alleviate some of your concerns.”  The Minister seemed unapologetic and inconvenienced by the whole situation, dismissing Gwenda’s demand for compensation.

“Nobody around here owns this land, good sir,” Gwenda answered, but before she could explain that it was being leased from the crown she was interrupted.

  “Excellent!  I was worried the Raider Clan had swooped in and purchased it already, so I’m glad to hear that I’m not too late.  That makes it much easier to take charge of this entire situation and to establish this place as the southern hub of my trading operations.  With the new dungeon found near here, this place will be a hotbed of business transactions for decades, if not longer.”  The Elf was running his hands together greedily and turned away from them, almost as if he had forgotten they were there.

“Minister, I don’t think you heard me correctly,” Gwenda said, which caused the merchant to look at her strangely again.  “I said nobody around here owns the land, because the crown owns it; it’s currently being leased for the next 20 years, which means it can’t be bought and sold like you think it can.”

The Minister just stared at her for a moment with a worried expression on his face.  Before too long, however, his smile came back and he said, “Nonsense!  All I have to do is buy the lease from whoever is in charge here, and then when the lease is up, I’ll have an option to purchase the land outright from the crown.  Do you happen to know whose name is on the lease?  That would be the one I need to talk to; once that is done, I assure you that you’ll receive adequate compensation for your ruined crops.”

“Well, that would be me…and Sterge…and every other villager that lives here.  You’ll need all of us to agree to sell the lease, and I can tell you right now that isn’t going to happen.”

The merchant just stared at Gwenda – though Sterge thought through Gwenda was more accurate – for a few moments before he asked in a low voice, “Are you ordering us to leave?”

“No, not at all.  In fact, as long as you pay for the damage you’ve caused, you can even do business here – for a

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