Bartering

Snow fell gently from the sky. It was now December.

There were no more albaherons flying in the sky, as they had all finished migrating. Before then, however, Allen had managed to hunt six more of them for a total of sixteen.

He had then finished butchering them all, and the tax collector had come the other day to collect their feathers and magic stones together with sixty percent of the family's potato harvest.

The village chief did not have to collect taxes in person, so it was another villager who had showed up with the cart.

Although he had heard the rumors of Allen capturing albaherons, he was surprised to find out just how many there actually were.

There were now 150 kilograms of meat hanging out in the garden to dry.

The first ten kilograms were already fully preserved.

"You ready, Allen?"

"Yes, Mr. Gerda."

Today, the two of them were going to the residential area to buy firewood and salt. Firewood was an absolute necessity for getting through the cold winter.

Normally, Rodin would, after every hunt, immediately trade in a portion of great boar meat he received for some firewood. That way, there would always be a certain amount within the house.

This year, however, because Rodin got hurt, the family had not purchased any new firewood within the past two months.

Similarly, their salt reserves were also scraping bottom. Firewood was quite readily available, as it was sourced from the surrounding forest by the village's woodcutters who chopped down trees in the surrounding forest.

Salt, however, had to be brought to the village from faraway sources by traveling merchants. During years when few traveling merchants came and supplies dwindled, the price of salt would rise. As such, it was common sense for families to stock up whenever possible.

Today was the day when Gerda would teach Allen how to purchase goods.

Because they did not have carts, the two had to attach everything onto racks that they would then shoulder.

The one currently on Allen's back was loaded with ten blocks of albaheron—one kilogram each—all of which he planned on bartering for firewood and salt.

Theresia waved her hand as she saw her son off, Rodin standing next to her. He had gotten much better in the month and a half since the incident.

Although he could stand and walk without much issue now, going to the village center required two whole hours of walking, plus the return journey would require lugging home a heavy load.

He was not quite well enough to do this just yet, so Allen offered to go instead. By now Rodin knew better than to say no and simply asked Gerda to accompany him.

Gerda had likely heard about what Allen had revealed to his parents, but the way he treated the boy remained largely the same.

He already had an inkling that the boy was someone special, so he took the revelation in stride.

"Are the commoners still in the hunting party, Mr. Gerda?"

Allen had started speaking to Gerda more respectfully because of how much the man had taught him about farming and how much he had taken care of Allen's family in general.

In fact, he spoke to Gerda even more courteously than he did his own parents.

"Mm? Why the question all of a sudden?"

"Nothing much. I was just curious."

Because it would take a whole hour to reach the village center, Allen tried striking up a conversation. Gerda had an easygoing and straightforward personality and would generally answer whatever Allen asked.

"Nah, they never came again after that one time, and Deboji hasn't said anything either. Which means it's probably only us serfs for the rest of the year."

"I see."

"Mm."

A part of Allen wondered if this was because the commoners had been scared away by the experience.

However, he put the thought out of mind, as this question was only the conversational starter. He promptly moved on to the real topic.

"By the way, what's the difference between being a commoner and a serf?"

"What's this out of the blue? Go ask Rodin."

"Can you imagine how awkward that would be?"

It would be akin to Allen telling his parents that he did not want to be a serf anymore, although that was the truth.

Even though the reason for the question was his desire to help raise his whole family out of serfdom, his parents would still be shocked, to put it mildly. He had no one else to ask aside from Gerda.

Gerda vigorously scratched his head and sighed heavily, but still proceeded to answer Allen's question.

To sum up his explanation, the biggest difference between serfs and commoners was how they were taxed.

Serfs were taxed sixty percent of everything they produced, be it through hunting, farming, or any other means.

Commoners, on the other hand, were taxed per head. Each adult was taxed three gold coins, and each child was taxed one gold coin. This tax was collected on an annual basis.

'I see, so our family would be taxed based on the four of us, which comes to a total of eight gold coins each year. After mother gives birth again next year, that number is going to go up even higher.'

"Hmm... Since we're on the topic, how can a serf become a commoner?"

"If I remember correctly, you can pay ten gold coins. Ah, I've also heard of cases where the feudal lord granted someone commoner status as reward for some achievement. I don't know how true those stories are, though."

'So the buyout price is the same for both adults and children. My family would need a total of 50 gold coins, then.'

"Thank you, Mr. Gerda. Uh, please don't tell anyone I asked you about this."

"You know I won't," Gerda scoffed while tousling Allen's hair.

Eventually, the pair reached the commercial district of the village, where the road was lined by stores on both sides.

"First is the salt. The firewood's heavy, so it comes after," Gerda explained as he pushed through the Western-style swing doors.

Allen replied, "Yes, sir," and followed along behind.

The inside of the store was basically just a counter in front of shelves lined with bottles presumably filled with salt and other spices along the back wall.

There were no items on display in the storefront, likely due to the costly nature of the goods handled here.

Gerda, who was here today to do his own trading on top of showing Allen the ropes, walked straight up to the counter and simply said, "Exchanging meat for salt."

There was no haggling. The sour-faced storekeeper asked what kind, and Gerda told him it was great boar.

The former asked to see the meat, so the latter placed the goods on the counter. The storekeeper used what looked like a scale to measure the weight of the large block of meat, then said simply, "Twelve scoops."

"That'll do," Gerda replied, handing over a small wooden box.

The shopkeeper accepted it and used what looked like a wooden tablespoon to scoop salt from a large urn he had into Gerda's box.

"Go on, confirm it."

Gerda accepted his box back and shook it lightly. Then he opened the lid back up, dipped the fingertip of his pinky inside, and licked the granules stuck to his finger.

"Mm, alright," he said gruffly before tying the box up with rope and returning it to his chest pocket.

Seeing that Gerda was done, Allen stepped up to copy what he just saw.

He said, "Albaheron meat," then placed five blocks onto the counter.

The shopkeeper roused a little upon hearing the unfamiliar name, but then returned to wordlessly weighing the meat. Allen waited for him to finish, somewhat worried about being turned away.

Eventually, the shopkeeper said, "Ten scoops."

"Albaheron is worth less than great boar?"

"Huh? It's the same."

In other words, Allen had simply brought less than Gerda did. He obediently handed his wooden box over, and the shopkeeper filled it.

After confirming the salt the same way Gerda did, Allen tied his box up and, because it would not fit in the front of his clothes, cinched it around his waist with a rope.

Next, the pair headed for the general store, which sold fruit, wheat, beans, potatoes, and other similar things that farmers would want to barter with each other for.

The fruit, however, was special in that it had been brought to this village by a traveling merchant, as there was no orchard in this village.

The old lady who minded the counter in this store turned out to be very friendly. Here Gerda exchanged one block of meat for four molmos, then Allen did the same using a block of albaheron meat.

'The salt merchant was just...salty. Ha ha...never mind. Ahem. Everything so far implies that meat from the Rank C great boar and meat from the Rank D albaheron are assigned the same value. Is this how it's supposed to be?'

Allen had assumed that the higher ranked the meat, the more it would be worth. He had therefore brought more than he thought would be necessary, just in case. As it turned out, however, his fears had been unfounded.

There were no pigs or chickens in the village, as far as Allen knew. In other words, no one was raising or breeding livestock—the only animals inside the walls were the horses that pulled carts.

'Is meat valuable just on the basis of being meat, regardless of what creature it comes from?'

Naturally, Allen had been writing down his observations so far, such as the various merchants' attitudes, the location of each store, and the value of products.

Next time, he would be coming by himself. It was going to remain cold until March, which meant he would need to make multiple trips until he eventually gathered a total of three months' worth of firewood. How much he could carry each trip was limited.

The firewood merchant had stationed himself in front of a large warehouse. The crack through the door revealed piles and piles of firewood stacked within.

After Gerda showed him how it was done, Allen handed over one block of meat and received four bundles of firewood in return.

The wood in each bundle was around a meter long, and one entire bundle weighed around fifteen kilograms.

This was enough to last a household one day if the fireplace was not kept lit all day long. Economizing while the sun was up was crucial to cutting costs.

Allen began tying the firewood to his shoulder rack. The firewood merchant was a taciturn and gruff man, but even he could not help but be concerned. After all, four bundles together added up to a total of sixty kilograms.

He approached Allen to tell him not to overdo it, but then stopped dead in astonishment as the boy shouldered the rack and stood up as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

With that, Allen and Gerda turned to make their way home, paying the stupefied firewood merchant no mind.

Now Allen knew how to barter for what his family would need in the coming winter.