She imagined how much food ten silver marks could buy as she lugged buckets of water from the well. She thought of the tools and rich ore Jamero could buy while she shoveled grain into the trough for the young birds. The colorful, flightless chicks squawked and squabbled over the food. While Anri raked pungent piles of straw into a manure cart, she imagined her mother sleeping until morning instead of having to go to work in the middle of the night. She would wake up feeling rested and would be able to spend more time with her family.
Wiping the sweat from her forehead and neck, and relishing in the fresh air outside, Anri dumped the manure onto a pile that Elder Ronard sold to local fruit and vegetable farmers.
“Good morning, Anri,” Elder Ronard greeted as he strolled from his house carrying a mug of steaming hot kaffa. Short prickly grey hair sprouted over his head and chin, highlighted by deep lines showing the age of the respected man.
“Oh, good morning, Elder Ronard. The chicks are all fed and watered, and they have fresh bedding. I think they’re getting used to me,” she said, proudly. “I didn’t have any trouble with them today.” The steam from the elder’s cup wafted toward Anri, making her mouth water at the spicy-sweet scent.
He gave a quick nod and reached into his pouch to draw out her payment. “Remember that they’re still not trained,” he warned. “It’s best to keep your distance from these birds. They may be small still, but those talons could flay you open like a trout if you aren’t careful.”
“Yes, Elder.” Anri still bore scars on her arms and legs from when she’d first taken the job. The chicks had been much smaller at the time, but they hadn’t trusted her as they did now. “Thank you,” she added as he handed over three copper bits for her morning’s work.
For the next few hours, Anri scurried from job to job. She gathered water for a manor, took a sack of clothes to the cleaners, swept out a walkway, and sorted out bruised fruits.
When she had finally gathered enough money for the things her family needed, Anri took her earnings to the market district. Outdoor stalls lined the streets with people selling everything from jewelry to clothing to toys, and especially food. Young children ran from stall to stall, likely the youngsters of the shop owners. Adult cormants strode patiently through the crowds, drawing carts behind them over the cobblestone streets.
Turning off the main road and into a narrower side street, Anri made her way to her favorite shop. It was run by a man named Jeb, who seemed to be doing well for himself despite the out-of-the-way location. He always had the foods Anri needed, everything was always fresh, and Anri could always count on him to charge fair prices.
“I’ll get my usual order,” Anri said, dropping her pile of copper coins into the small clay dish on his table. She fidgeted anxiously. Her stomach was snarling with hunger, and she knew her little brother would be awake by now.
Behind the counter, Jeb took a bite of his apple, wiping the juices from his mouth with his sleeve. He was an older man, with long white hair and eyes that were always half-closed, like he was tired of dealing with everyone’s drama.
He grabbed the dish and shook it to separate the coins and count them.
“That’s not enough,” he grunted.
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Also by N. A. Davenport
Werewolf Max
Lost in the Graveyard
Werewolf Max and the Midnight Zombies
Werewolf Max and the Banshee Girl
Werewolf Max and the Monster War
Fairies of Titania
The Last Fairy Door
The Dragon Key (Coming Soon)
Dragon Riders of Avria
Anri and the Dragon Quest
Secret of the Dragon Egg
Secret of the Dragon Egg (Dragon Riders of Avria Book 1) Page 23
