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In the course of renovating the buildings for Ravensthorpe's settlers, Eivor eventually committed resources to building a bakery for Tarben. They stood outside the freshly built building.
Eivor:Your bakery is done, Tarben. And our feasting table will be warmer for it.
Tarben:Eivor, that is... kind of you. I hope one day I can repay you.
Eivor:You are among friends here. There is no need.
Tarben:No need, but a desire. An earnest one. I remember the good things people do for me. To warm my heart in times when... ...when kindnesses are few and far between. There was one more thing, though if you had a moment. A grain merchant has set up downriver. I want to bring a half dozen bags home, but I would need an extra pair of hands.
Eivor:I can lend a hand.
Tarben:That's a relief. I did not fancy asking Holger.
Later, please.=
Eivor:I cannot help now. Maybe later?
Tarben:No rush. Just let me know.
Eivor left to complete her more urgent business, then returned to Tarben later.
Eivor:Tarben.
Tarben:Eivor. Shall we go?
(repeats choices)
Eivor and Tarben made for the docks, taking a small rowboat down the River Nene to the grain merchant, talking along the way to pass the time.
Tarben:Your reputation. Heard folks say a band of hard-drinking, battle-scarred warriors had washed up on shore. Said you had settled in the center of Mercia, taking in whatever flotsam, jetsam, and jumble of misfits came to your docks.
Eivor:And this appealed to you?
Tarben:More than anything. Always been a bit of a drifter. The thought of settling in a rowdy camp felt like a good balance. And being a baker, I knew my services would not be sniffed at.
They sailed far enough that Ravensthorpe disappeared behind them.
Eivor:I did not take you for a baker when we met. You have the look of someone who swings an axe.
Tarben laughed.
Tarben:I do hear that a lot.
Eivor:But baking is your only craft. Is that right?
Tarben:I have always enjoyed it. And I have always been good at it. But when I am not able to find such work, I take odd jobs where I can. So long as I can work with my hands.
Tarben:A question, Eivor. You are a warrior, a fighter, that much I know. But if you could stop fighting, what would you do?
Eivor:You ask the wrong question. I can stop fighting. But to do so would be to deny the essence of who I am. I think you mean... "If I had to stop fighting, what would I become?
Tarben:No, you've given me the answer I wanted. It's good you have found what calls you. A rare and happy thing.
They arrived at the grain merchant's dock and moored the boat beside it, stepping onto land and approaching the man's stall.
Eivor: (clears throat)
Anglo-Saxon Man:Yes, yes, I see you both. What can I—
He turned around to see Tarben and stood shocked with recognition.
Anglo-Saxon Man:It's you. Wh-what are you doing in Mercia?
Tarben:Collecting grain. Thirty silvers' worth if you can spare it. I do have the coin.
Anglo-Saxon Man:Right. Well... take what you need and get going.
Tarben gently tossed a coin pouch onto the stall's table in payment.
Tarben:That should cover it. Thank you kindly.
Anglo-Saxon Man:Of course. And you, ah, you take good care of yourself. Yeah?
The merchant briskly took his leave. The boat was loaded, and Eivor and Tarben cast off from the riverbank bound for home. Along the way, Eivor inquired about the merchant.
Eivor:Is that your usual vendor? He seemed... a little surprised to see you.
Tarben:Did he? Well... could be he knows somebody who looks like me. There's no shortage of big bearded men around here, yeah?
Eivor:I suppose not.
They crossed the shire border and followed the bend in the river back home.
Eivor:About your question earlier, what would I do if I weren't a warrior? I would ask the same of you. Is baking bread your greatest wish?
Tarben:Is there something wrong with wanting to bake bread? The Romans baked bread. The Egyptians baked bread.
Eivor:It is a fine trade. But is it your calling?
Tarben:It is my calling to feed people, I'd say. To be of service to those I care for, and who care for me. That brings me joy.
Eivor:Put that way, it is a noble pursuit.
Tarben:I don't know that it's noble. It's simply what gets me up in the morning. And gives me purpose for the rest of my day.
Ravensthorpe came into view and they docked the boat whence it came, preparing to unload the grain supply.
Eivor:Need help with your grain?
Tarben:No need, no need. I'll do the rest myself, bring it in and put it where I like.
Eivor:Alright. It was good to speak with you, Tarben. A welcome diversion.