Farmer or Cultivator? Why not both?

"Who are you and what do you want?" Ren asked.

The spy screamed the moment he opened his eyes and heard those words. Ren had stripped him of his clothes, leaving him in nothing but the small piece of cloth covering his genitals, and tied him to a tree with his back against the bark, seated on the ground. Ren repeated the question.

"Who are you and what do you want?"

The spy stayed silent this time. His eyes drifted to the bodies of his comrades lying nearby and stayed there.

"You killed them," he said, his voice coarse.

"So you can speak. Good. Why were you after me? Who sent you?" A rage built within Ren.

The man said nothing more. He was young, younger than Ren, with a shaved head. He spoke Maldrinaeh fluently and even carried the same accent as the Tunish villagers.

Don’t tell me they are from the village.

The thought passed through Ren’s mind briefly, but he dismissed it. He had looked at all three faces and recognized none of them. He was fairly certain he had seen every face in Tunish by now, enough to know these men were not among its residents. And if they were from the village, there would have been no reason to hide their faces at all. They had come to spy, not blend in as locals.

Ren charged his fist and brought it down close to the man’s face. "Do you want to end up like those two? I am not the most patient man."

The spy’s face went pale. He even wet himself.

Up on his branch, Rokku had returned to the tome, alternating between reading and watching Ren work with the same steady, unbothered expression.

"Alright. I will speak. I will speak. Just promise to let me go. I have a child at home and two wives. I was only following orders."

"I will let you go if what you tell me is worth freeing you. So you had better tell me everything you know."

The spy swallowed and nodded. "It was Lord Uvamin and Lord Ceyan who sent us. They wanted to know how you make your blue milk, and possibly get their hands on the ingredients. We were not intending to harm you."

"Lord Uvamin and Lord Ceyan?" The names meant nothing to Ren.

"Yes, and Lord Sayanim. They are powerful merchants from the city. The blue milk has been selling so well there that they needed to find out who was behind it."

It had not even been a full week since Ren began supplying large quantities to Erigald, and already there were spies at his door.

"We found out it was Lord Erigald who distributed the milk, but you were clearly the one producing it."

"What city?" Ren asked.

"Marina. We are all from Marina."

Ren’s eyes widened slightly. He stepped away from the man and walked toward the corpses, cupping his chin in thought.

Marina merchants were already after his secrets. He turned back to the bound man with a grin. "This is interesting. What else should I know?" The spy hesitated, and Ren’s voice sharpened. "What else? Are there more of you in the village?"

Tears ran down the spy’s face. He nodded.

"You have been cooperative. I think I will spare you." Ren stepped back and called up to Rokku. "Watch him. Others may come for him."

"No one will come," the spy muttered quietly, almost to himself.

Ren went down to the village and found Eldrad, telling him everything. The chief came back up the slope with Tuarine, and together they stood before the bound spy and listened as he repeated his account. When the names came up, Eldrad went still. Ren noticed it immediately.

"Do you know them?"

"Everyone from Marina knows these men." Eldrad’s voice was slow and measured. "I know Ceyan particularly. He helped me once when I fell into trouble with a gang, years ago. To think he would be part of something like this."

Eldrad instructed Ren to cremate the bodies and keep the matter between themselves. The spy would be held in the village jail until Eldrad decided what was to be done with him.

Ren was glad to agree. Eldrad took time to explain who these men truly were, the weight they carried in Marina, their influence, and the fact that Ceyan held an administrative position in the city. Ren listened carefully.

I may have to tell Erigald about this. He made a note of it.

He told both Tuarine and Eldrad to keep watch for suspicious figures, particularly any who were not from Tunish and were wearing hoods or shawls pulled close around them.

"How many are the others?" he asked.

"We were six in total," the spy answered.

"Three left then. I will go and look for them." The moment Ren said it, the spy shook his head.

"They will already be gone. There is a connection between all of us. They know two are dead, and that alone will send them running. We may not have found out how you make the milk, but we know who you are and where you live. For now, that will be enough for our masters." He said it plainly, without malice, as though reporting a fact.

Tuarine shoved the bound man forward, nudging him down the slope of the mountain. He was in their hands now. Ren watched them go, then turned back to the two bodies on his lawn.

He dragged them into the forest, found a clearing away from his land, and sent an energy blast into the pile. The flames caught the bodies immediately, and climbed high, and Ren stood there watching them burn until there was nothing left worth watching.

"I have to stay here a little longer," he said quietly, resignation settling into his voice like something he had already known for a while and was only now saying out loud. He had to be certain that these merchants wouldn’t try any bold moves again.