A week had passed since the goblins had raided the tool shed, and things hadn't improved.

“Thanks, Farrel,” Harm said as he waved him off down the track. Farrel’s rickety old cart bounced because of an ill-fitting wheel. He didn’t appear to notice it as he swayed with its movement.

“Did you get them?” Dahlia asked.

“Yes. He has dropped off the seeds.”

“Well, if we can start growing some of our own veg, it will save us money.”

“I know, but this land is so poor. I don’t have his skills. I just hope they take.”

Harm walked across the farmstead to a distant field where he had carefully prepared a strip of land. The farmstead land was poor, only really suited for grazing, but this was its richest soil. He spent the next few hours sewing, planting all the seeds, and then watering them. Things had become even harder for them over the past few weeks since the goblins had visited. The milk production of the herd had dropped to a quarter of what it had been previously, and the respite he had hoped for had disappeared. There was no explanation for it. He knew every trick of dairy farming; his skill tree for his profession was perfectly aligned, every technique to soothe a herd and encourage production, but nothing worked.

Dahlia had been hunting more, and, with Marius’s help, he had constructed a smoker and a lean-to where Dahlia butchered and then hung the meat. After initially building it and hanging the cuts of meat, a wolf, or another predator had broken in and helped itself. Since then, Harm had built a fence and dug a ditch, filling it with short spikes to deter any further visits. The coin that Dahlia may get for the meat wouldn’t be great, but it would help with their current situation.

Anyway, they could; they were looking to save money. Harm was heartbroken when they had to tell Yonda that she wouldn’t be able to have the dress she had been eyeing in town for her birthday. Yonda was the youngest of his children, and at only seven, was one of the best gifts the gods could have ever given him.

Knocking his boots off, he walked in to find Dahlia sitting at the kitchen table, sobbing.

“What’s wrong?” Harm asked, worry on his face.

“What are we going to do, Harm?” Dahlia whispered, her voice raw. "It doesn't seem to matter how far I travel; the pickings are slim. The forests seem empty."

Dahlia had been leaving before first light every day and sometimes did not arrive back until late evening. She had to travel further each time she went out hunting. The nearby forests, where she had always found hoglings or pheasants to hunt, appeared to have left the area. Harm knew that it could be because of a predator or even the goblins that were still known to be in the area. The issue with the goblins was that they would always overhunt the land, causing devastation in several places in the region because of their greed.

“We will get through it, love. We always do.”

Dahlia looked at him, tears trickling down her cheeks, and he walked over to her, took a cloth from the side, and handed it to her. 

“I’m not sure we will this time,” she sniffed, wiping her eyes.

“Where are the kids?” Harm asked, realising how quiet the house was.

“They have gone with Jill to stay with her and Vic tonight.”

“I didn’t know Jill was coming over?”

“I saw her when I was coming back from the forest. So, she came back with me. She saw how tired I was and offered to take them for the night.”

“That’s nice. You haven’t seen her for a while now. How are they doing?”

“Well, Vic just got a new building commission. The new owner of the Thistle Arms wants it renovated.”

“That’s great. His work had dropped off the last time I spoke to him.”

“Everybody seems to struggle around here,” Dahlia sighed. Her tears had stopped briefly. “I don’t have time to do anything these days. I don’t even see the kids most of the time, leaving so early each day.” Mentioning the kids made her sob again.

“I know, love. Well, hopefully, these veg will take, and that will help ease things for us. I am going to sort you out a bath,” Harm said, collecting the bucket and heading out to the well.

After sorting the bath out, Harm called through to Dahlia. “I am going to ask Wes to come and check on the cows for me.”

“You can’t. It will cost too much coin.”

“I have it covered. Don’t worry,” he replied. He had to do something to get them through this.

Dahlia had left first thing the following day. She would hunt closer to the mountain end of the valley and see if she had more luck. Harm had set off to town as soon as he had finished milking with Marius, while Yonda had protested that it was boring watching them and had spent the morning shooting the small bow that Harm had made for her. She didn’t have the farmer’s genes in her and took after her mother as a hunter. 

“What do we need from town?” Marius asked.

“I have two urns to sell, and some cheese, but I also need to see Wes. I want him to come and check the herd. It doesn’t make sense that there has been a reduction in milk recently.”

“It has been bad, Dad. Betty always used to fill three buckets. I am lucky to get one from her now.”

“I know, son. It’s not good.”

“Isn’t Wes expensive? Mum always says, he is?”

“He is, but I have to do something.”

Once they arrived in town, Yonda saw one of her friends down at the river. “Dad, can I go play with Kloe? Please, Dad, please.”

“Marius, can you go with her and keep an eye on her, please?”

“Do I have to?”

“You know she can’t swim very well, and it wouldn’t be the first time that she didn’t end up in the water. I don’t need old Mr Grouch complaining about dragging her out again.”

Marius sulked as he climbed from the cart. He hated escorting his sister, and he considered himself an adult; babysitting was beneath him. Yonda jumped down and ran over to her friend.

“Thanks, son. I won’t be long, and then you can go and have a look at Larky’s, and I will take over.”

“Okay, Dad,” Marius said, only a little happier with the chance to visit Larky’s, as he trudged off after his sister.

Harm smiled, watching him go. He carried on down the street a bit and then pulled the horse and cart up in front of the ‘Tatters’. It was the name of the store that Larky ran. Larky sold a little of everything and would also buy items to trade. Harm grabbed the crate of cheese and then lifted the cloth sack from the back of the cart, where he had hidden it, and carried it into the store.

“Harm,” Larky said as he entered.

“Hi, Larky.”

“What can I get you today?”

“It’s more about what you can give me. I have the cheese order and...,” Harm said as he placed the sack on the counter.

Larky frowned and opened the sack. “You’re kidding, right?”

“No. Unfortunately, not. I need to get Wes out to see the herd, and we have had a hard time with the reduction in milk.”

Larky let out a long whistle. “I never thought I would see the day you parted with her,” he said as he removed Harm’s long sword from the sack. “You know I can’t give you what she is worth. You’d be better off taking her to the auction house in Fallow.”

“I can’t afford to spend the time away. It’s an eight-day round trip at the best of times,” Harm said.

“Are you sure you want to sell her?”

“I have no choice.”

Dahlia had been patching the kids’ clothes as much as she could, and Harm’s clothes were wearing thin—never mind food. He had sold his armour years ago, and his sword was the only remaining item from his adventuring days. He could never afford to pay for Wes without selling Florence. He had owned Florence for over twenty years. He had got her from the loot of an ogre, and she had been through many scrapes with him, never dulling her blade or letting him down in a fight.

“How much can you give me?”

Harm had known Larky for years, ever since he had settled with Dahlia. He had always jibed Harm about how he had caught Dahlia when he was as ugly as he was. It had been a running joke for a long time.

“Look, Harm. Let me do you a favour. I wouldn’t normally do it, but as it’s you, I will buy her from you, and then you can pay me back when you have the coin. I know how much it must be hurting you to part with her.”

“You can believe it,” Harm said, sighing.

“Right then. You tell me what you need, and I will see what I can do.”

“I will speak to Wes and see what it’s going to cost. I am guessing it’s going to be his standard fee plus. I also need to get the kids' new clothes.”

Larky frowned. “Are things really that bad?”

“Aye. In the last few months, it’s been getting worse and worse. I thought we had got through it, but some of the herd are not even producing a quarter of a bucket.”

“That is bad! Maybe you need to speak to Dasir. See what he’s doing. From what I can tell, his herd has been producing well.” Larky pointed to where seven urns sat with Dasir’s marking.

Harm scoffed. “I can’t stand the sight of the man. Since he arrived in the valley, all he has done is drive down my milk price. I only just break even as it is, and with the increase in feed costs from Satil, and with his larger herd, I can’t even stand to compete against him. That reminds me, I need two more feed while I’m here.”

“Don’t speak to me about Satil. That worm of a man. He has just had the elders agree to a new tax on all traders. I am paying 12 coppers for every silver now.” Larky said as he grabbed two sacks of feed and carried them over to the counter. “And he’s put the feed prices up again.”

“How much now?”

“Seven coppers a bag.”

“Seven coppers. Only three months back, they were only three coppers.”

“He says it’s the farmers at Kartoon that have increased his costs to bring it in.”

“The bastard. What’s he increased the taxes for?” Harm asked.

“Trading rights to the town.”

“How does he justify that?”

“You either pay it, or he will find another who is willing to.”

“Does that man want to run everyone out of the town?”

Larky scoffed. “Wouldn’t surprise me. Anyone who questions him always seems to fall on hard times. Right, see, Wes, and while you do, I will get some clothes sorted.”

“Thanks, Larky. You’re a lifesaver,” Harm said as he turned to leave.

Wes lived in a house on the far side of the town. He was the only druid that the town had, and as a result, his prices were never cheap. Harm was dreading to think what he would charge to come and check the herd, never mind if they required any tonics or spells. Wes’s house was set back in a garden that was overflowing with flowers. His wife, Tanya, was a dab hand at gardening, and even in the winter months, something bloomed in their garden. She was busy in the garden when Harm arrived.

“Hi, Tanya. Is Wes around?”

“He is in his shed,” Tanya replied, signalling around the side of the house.

“Thanks,” Harm said. “The garden looks beautiful, as usual.”

Tanya just shrugged. She was never one for many words. Harm walked to the shed. It wasn’t so much a shed but more the size of a small barn and was where Wes produced all his tonics and balms for the animals, specifically those related to the menagerie that lived on the property. There were cats, dogs, rabbits, goats and even a farlick. A farlick was a rather strange-looking beast. It looked like a miniature horse but had the head of a cat, including whiskers.

“Wes?” Harm called out as he entered the barn.

“Over here,” Wes called from somewhere at the rear of the barn.

Harm made his way to him as several dogs and cats walked up to him, sniffing the strange visitor or just wanting attention. Stepping around them, Harm reached Wes, who was bent over a small crate.

“That’s it. Come on now. Good girl,” he said. 

Harm peered into the crate to see a small bird flapping one wing. Its other was missing. Wes was holding a worm for it to eat.

“Can you heal her?” Harm asked.

“Not sure yet. Animal regeneration is very difficult at best. The success rate is very low. Anyway, what do you need?”

“I came to ask if you could come and check on the herd for me. They are drying up again, and I have no idea what is causing it.”

“I can. When would you like me to?”

“As soon as possible. How much will the visit cost?”

“My standard rate.”

Harm knew that Wes’s standard rate was five silver to visit before anything was needed. Five silver would feed his family for over a month and dress the kids. He also knew that if he placed his beloved Florence in the Auction House, he could get at least two gold coins for her, if not more. He knew that Larky couldn’t afford that much. Hopefully, Larky could give him at least 50 silver. That would tie them over for a while, even if there were treatments needed for the herd. 

Harm had thought about returning to adventuring, but Dahlia strongly objected. She wouldn’t chance the kids growing up without a father, and although Harm was a skilled fighter, he wasn’t as young as he used to be. If the herd didn’t come around, he wasn’t sure what he would do. His class as a fighter and profession in farming, as well as his speciality in dairy farming, meant that his path was chosen. He supposed he could always join the caravans that travelled to the largest town in the territory as a guard. The pay may not be as good, but it would be safer than adventuring.

“Would you be able to come today?”

Wes turned and looked at Harm. “Yes. Let me finish up here. I will be another hour or so and then will head over.”

“Thanks, Wes,” Harm said, turning and leaving the barn. He walked back to Larky’s, hoping his friend could make him a decent offer.