THE THORIAN SAGAS: 1. THE TRADER. (Completed).

Learning more.

So did the dog.

It had taken a little longer than Stoker had expected.

She wanted that coat, and the necklace.

He smiled, seeing how intent she was upon that string of large, amber, polished claws, shining in the firelight, now that she could more clearly see them outside of his tunic.

It was a tunic he had traded with them for, some weeks earlier, and that had been re-formed especially for him as they'd taken his measurements and made the changes to fit him.

He asked a simple question to get the ball rolling.

"What will you trade for this coat?"

That was all she needed to hear. She'd got the process started and would not easily stop now until she possessed that coat.

He'd read her mind from her body language, her silence, and the way she constantly looked at it and reached out to touch it.

Monique did not hesitate. She leapt to her feet, bringing things over to him from where her personal belongings were, at the side of the room in a large box.

She observed his expression each time she brought something else to add to the small pile, waiting for a look of satisfaction, which came only after she'd added four tokens, and then a spare one of her shaped wooden breastplates and back-guard to the pile, along with several of her finely woven tunics.

The breastplate was shaped for her alone, made of the strongest wood that broke some of their axes to get it...quebracho... and took hours to shape properly to exactly accommodate her breasts without chafing them.

Each token was good for a small barrel of wine from her family's vineyard, which lay down by the shore of the inland sea and was within the limits of their city.

He looked at the small pile of goods, stopping her from adding anything more, and then slowly passed two of the tokens back to her with a sigh, closing her hand around them.

He would not cheat her. She was paying an appropriate price.

That was another thing they knew about him. He traded fairly.

He passed her the coat, feeling the excitement of success as she hugged it to her face, snuggling into it.

She could make a smaller coat for herself out of this one, as well as a cover for her bed.

They were both satisfied with the trade. He had another bearskin coat under the seat of his cart which he could wear on his return to Saltash. With no meat in his carts he would not be attacked so often on the return trip.

Two barrels of wine; that wooden armor made for a woman—more decorative than useful—and several tunics in exchange for his coat, had been a good deal. He had other coats just like it, and other claw necklaces too. He had many of them, but he had also paid a high price to get each of them.

"I have not seen one of these before, or one of those animals that it came from; a Mountain Bear."

Its fur was warm where she now sat upon it, pushing her hands into the deep fur, liking the sensation. She would sleep, wrapped in that hide tonight, and each night after this.

It was a beginning, and the first time anything so personal had been negotiated between them like this.

He also promised to bring other coats each time he came; if they could meet his price.

They would meet his price. He would ensure they could. That was the art of being a trader, and what trading entailed; knowing what they could afford, and adjusting his price accordingly, to make sure that all parties were satisfied, and always left the table with something that they valued a little more highly than they had given up.