Michael arrived in Limben on the third day of spring. Anger flared up in him when he saw the last of the decorations for the spring celebrations being taken down. It was one thing to know he had forfeited his chance at the great prices on the market on celebration day, but it was another to see it. If he were a braver man, he thought, he would have walked along the main road and made it in time. His income could have doubled easily during the festivities. Michael brushed the thought away and rushed to his father's house. Many familiar faces greeted him as he traversed the roads of Limben. He was much more comfortable here than in Welsborough, though there was more to be done in the city of the royals.

"Michael!" Marie, one of his sisters was running towards him, screaming at the top of her lungs. Michael struggled to stay on his feet as she ran straight into him and fiercely hugged his leg.

"Hey there, Marie," he said, ruffling her hair. "Would you mind letting go of me just long enough so I can say hi to mamma and pappa?" She said something in response, but he could not understand it through the noise of several of his siblings shouting and pointing at him. "I know, I know, I'm sorry I'm late." Michael shouted over them with his hands raised. Finally, his mother stepped out of the house and shushed them. Even Marie let go of his leg.

"We were so worried," his mother chided, welcoming him with a hug. "Your father is out of the house, but do come in. Edward, be a good boy and go tell pappa, you should find him at the Johnson's."

Michael took a deep breath before stepping into the dark entry hall. It took a moment for his mother to send all his siblings back to whatever they had been up to before. She led him into the kitchen where his youngest brother was sitting up in his crib. "Mi, mi," he shouted excitedly.

"Hello Fredrick. You're getting too big for that crib." Michael smiled. Looking at his mother more closely, he saw the all too familiar swelling of her stomach. "I suppose he'll have to give it up soon?"

"Not too soon, but yes, it will be needed once again." Michael's mother laughed. "As if we didn't already have enough mouths to feed. We've been blessed with so many of you."

"Well, I might be able to help a little with that," Michael said, carefully loosening the straps of his pack and setting the whole thing down on the table. He dug through the layers of cloths until he found his hidden pouch. "Here, this is for you." He said, pouring coins into her hands. "I have some more, but I'll be giving that to pappa."

"Of course," she smiled. "You're a good son. A good brother, too. And you're becoming a splendid young man, look at you!" Michael blushed and didn't reply. "I mean it, soon, you'll be finding a wife of your own. I just hope some of your brothers will be bringing home a bit of money by then. It really isn't fair for you to carry the burden."

"It is how it is, mamma. Whyever did you let your eldest go to church?"

"Oh, you know why. We had to please the gods after they finally granted us a child. And look how many more they thanked us with!" She was gently stroking her belly and looking at Fredrick. "But I do miss Tom, just like you must."

"I just wish he could visit us more often. With all my travelling, I still see you more than he does living here in Limben. Has he even met Fredrick yet?" Her eyes dropped and Michael hugged her. "I'm sorry, mamma, I didn't mean to make you sad."

"They don't let me visit him anymore, either. New rules, no women allowed in the monastery, not even mothers of monks. But your father went in the other day, brought Tom greetings from all of us, and returned with plenty."

"Greetings don't still your hunger."

"No, but they soothe the soul. Now, let me hide the money before Edward returns with your father. Go freshen up and wait for him in the sitting room."

***

Back out in the streets, Michael headed to the market. His head was filled with the picture of his ageing father. Something was not right, Michael knew that, and he had pressed his father on it, but the man would not tell him what it was. Money, perhaps, but that was nothing new. Something else was causing his father to age before his time. Michael was still brooding on it as he stepped out onto the market. The stalls were busy with customers, though not as busy as he would have liked. He headed straight to the far end, not bothering to talk to any of the sellers, even though he knew most of them quite well. Arriving in front of Justine, he was greeted warmly. He told her that he wished to speak to her husband, and she pointed him to the tavern where he was spending a break. Michael quickly made his way there and enjoyed the feeling of warmth wash over him as he pushed the door open. The noise of laughter and chatter was less to his taste, but he spotted Justine's husband Paul and headed straight towards him. Paul sat alone at a table and Michael slipped into a free chair.

"Fancy seeing you again. I thought you were being eaten by ravens."

"Nice to see you too, Paul." Michael pretended not to be offended. "I bring you only the finest this time. I've been able to make some good deals in Welsborough."

"Show me." Paul was not a man of words, and Michael obliged. The man ran his hands over the fine embroideries. "That would have sold well two days ago." Michael swallowed hard. "I'm afraid I can't offer you too much for it now that the nobles have just purchased the season's fashion."

"Maybe we should discuss this elsewhere," Michael suggested. Paul nodded, but took his time finishing his meal. Once they made it back to stall where Justine was entertaining customers, Paul asked her to stay a little longer so they could discuss their business at home. It was not far from the marketplace and Michael was glad to put his wares down once more. His back and feet hurt from the journey.

"Listen, Michael, I know you're a good lad, but you really let me down by being late." Paul looked stern.

"I know, and I am sorry for that. The journey just is so much more dangerous alone and I couldn't risk losing the load, so I stayed off the road and it took me longer to get here."

"Three days longer? Did you crawl in the bushes?"

"I got lost," Michael admitted, struggling to keep his voice down.

"Well, what's done is done. I will buy the ware, but as I said, I can't offer you the price you might expect. Sales have slowed down after the festivities, people have spent their money and now they're saving up again."

The price Paul offered was beyond acceptable. Michael tried to stay calm, but he felt the anger overcoming him.

"You're offering less than I paid back in Welsborough!" Paul did not respond. "I cannot give you the ware at this price. Surely it cannot have lost this much value over night."

"Its value is determined by what people will buy it from me for. Three days ago, they would have paid plenty, now they're not even interested in buying it in the first place. You're not the only merchant who brought this type of ware into Limben, you're just the only one who is late."

"Then I'll find another seller who'll pay me a better price." Michael didn't really mean it, but Paul told him to go ahead, so now he felt like he had to.

"I do not intend to slight you, Michael," Paul said slowly. "You are young and trying hard, I respect that. If you wish to trade with somebody else this time, then I hope it works out for you. I hold no grudge and will gladly trade with you again in the future, even if I cannot offer you what you seek today." Michael nodded and thanked him for his understanding. He had expected less from Paul, so his anger died away.

The next hours turned into a nightmare as one after another, all the sellers turned Michael down. He got desperate and considered taking Paul's offer after all. If he ended up sitting on his ware, he would make a great loss. If he sold it at Paul's price, he could at least reduce the loss, but it would still be a month's worth of work for nothing. At least his usual contact bought the jewellery off him for a good price, lifting Michael's mood somewhat. He was unwilling to go home, so he strode through the city a little longer, brooding on what to do. Eventually, he had to give up and return unsuccessful to his family. They all saw that he brought home a full pack, but nobody said anything.

***

Later that night, everybody except Michael and his father had retired to bed. They sat together in the kitchen, the only room not turned into a bedroom at night. His father was drinking cheap wine and Michael had accepted a glass. They were both somewhat broody, but their tongues grew loose, so Michael pushed his father on what was bothering him once again.

"It's your sister, Primrose," the man finally said.

"What about her?" Prim had seemed fine earlier. At eighteen, she was the oldest sister, though younger than Michael and their older brother Tom. "Is she not well?"

"Oh yes, she's well. Growin' into a nice young lady, too. It's not her health I'm worried about, it's her suitors." Michael was taken aback. Primrose had always had many admirers, but in his head, she was still his little sister. "There are several boys keeping their eyes on her, and I know she's quite interested in at least one of them."

"Who?" Michael asked before he could stop himself. His father gave him a concerned look.

"What does it matter to you? Don't get ahead of yourself, son, it's my job to make the decision for her. I just wish there was more time." His father drank deeply from his glass. "She's young, but we're running out of space. Your mother, she's carrying another child."

"I know."

"How...?"

"It's quite visible, father."

"Hm, already. It's hard to notice for me, I see her every day, the growth is so gradual. Dear gods, what if it's twins again?" Michael's father paused and thought on it for a while. "I know you're slipping her money when I'm not looking." Michael felt the blood leaving his face. "Quite right, too. You see, I seek to find Primrose a man as cunning as you. But those boys... they're not quite men yet."

"Has she no older suitors?"

"One or two. I do not trust them. They are hardworking, for sure, but I've met them in the... well, let's say she, too, would end up needing a cunning son if I married her off to one of those." He drank again. "I know my faults, son, and I know many men who share them. I never knew how you turned out so... right." Tears were filling Michael's eyes, but his father did not notice, or at least did not say anything.

"So what's wrong with the man Prim is interested in?" Michael asked once his voice allowed it.

"He's young."

"That's all?"

"It's not easy having a family, Michael. It takes much from a man. I cannot yet judge whether he is up to it. And his family is full, too. They would have nowhere to go but into the next crowded house. It's no way to start a family of one's own." Silence fell over them.

"What about church?" Michael finally asked.

"Primrose wants children. I cannot take that from her. If I have to give her away, at least she should be happy." Michael had never realised just how much his father truly loved them.

"We'll find a way." His father's eyes narrowed. "I mean it, father. Perhaps we can buy a bigger house, or at least save up for a good dowry for her. And for Lilly, too, mind you." Then the memory of his failed sale came over Michael. He fell silent, brooding over just how many trips between the two cities it would take him to afford dowries for all his five sisters. Luckily, only Prim and Lilly were nearing the age of marriage anytime soon, and before the other three got there, some of his brothers would be earning money, too.

"How is Paul?"

Of course, his father knew something had gone wrong. "Quite well, I think. And Justine, too." His father nodded thoughtfully.

"Perhaps I will apprentice Edward to the smith. He's lacking muscles, but he has the frame for it." This surprised Michael. Edward was only fourteen and had spent the last two years as a messenger for some nobles.

"Doesn't the smith have an almost fully learned apprentice already? Did you think Edward should take his place after he is done?"

"There was an incident."

"By the gods, he isn't hurt, is he?" Michael shuddered at the thought of what could go wrong in a smithy.

"No, no, he is not hurt. He ruined a rich young woman, and her father was furious, so the smith kicked him out. Not worth losing a good customer." The gears in Michael's head were turning rapidly. Not many men purchased significantly from the smith himself. Within moments, he could narrow the ruined woman down to a handful of possible names and faces. However, it would have been too inappropriate a topic to ask his father for details. Perhaps he could learn more in the streets.

"How disgusting," Michael said to mask his interest in the topic. "So you think you can land the job for Edward then?"

"I already have. This morning before work. But I haven't told him yet. It's up to him in the end."

"You're very generous, father." Michael knew that it stemmed from his grandfather having been quite the opposite. They continued talking for a while until Michael insisted on getting some sleep.