Despite the knowledge that he could get out of this whole ordeal by turning the other way, Kre had a growing feeling deep in the back of his mind. It had started as a simple feeling of commitment, almost a compulsion to do the right thing. As he stood there, it intensified and grew until he knew that no matter what anyone else thought, he knew that he could not live with himself if he made a break for it.
His mind continued its cascade of thoughts, ‘Plus, I don’t really know if Terync was hiding from something or if he was doing his duty, whatever it was.’
The last thought was the deciding one. Kre broke into a run and closed the distance to the wagon after just a few seconds. He vaulted up into the bed and took his place across from Lowil. The teacher raised a quizzical eyebrow at the boy and Kre knew that he must be wondering why he didn’t take the chance when he had it.
“I need to make sure Terync’s remains are taken care of,” the teen offered almost casually. “He’s done so much for me, this is the least I can do for him. Plus, I want to know his story. His life before Mintas.”
The eyebrow went down and Lowil nodded, just once. Kre hadn’t been seeking his approval for his chosen course of action, but it was nice to know that the endorsement was there for the taking.
Lowil reached back into his backpack and his hands emerged with a folded piece of parchment. “Come closer and I’ll show you where we’re headed,” he offered to the boy. He stated to place the map on Terync’s coffin, but thought better of it before unfolding it on the floor of the wagon.
“We’re here, just southeast of Fort Cowl.” Even though it was common knowledge, Lowil had a hard time turning off the teacher speak. “The trade road runs both northwest from Mintas to Fort Cowl and then to the other frontier towns and also southeast here through the woods and around to Sandort far to the east. The whole thing makes a circle with Fort Cowl at one end and Sandort at the other.”
“That sounds familiar,” Kre said, recalling his lessons. “The trade caravans run in opposite directions depending on the season, right? Clockwise in Spring and counter in the Fall?”
Lowil nodded, appreciating that his former pupil had learned something from him after all. “That’s exactly right. That way, the city and the military base split the harvests from the surrounding towns while also maintaining a sense of variety in who supplies them.”
“Especially since the military gets a massive discount on trade goods,” growled the driver, snapping the reins again as if to make his point clearer. “It’s robbery, I tell you.”
Lowil winked at Kre, as if to say, ‘Watch this’.
“You know they pay the same price that the city merchant consortiums pay, right?”
Braun flinched as if he had been hit. His head snapped around and spittle flew from his lips as he fairly yelled back to them, “They most certainly do not! I’ve seen the invoices, I know they pay almost half of what the Sandort importers pay.”
“Ah, but what you fail to see if that the importers also pay a city tax and a national tax on imported goods. The military does not, by virtue of official agreement for their service to the nation. The base price for both is the same and is set at the very start of the year. What you see as half the price is simply the cost after you take away the massive tax burden.”