"Five per battle. Every consecutive battle in a row gets you two extra," the money girl said as she dropped five silver coins onto the table in front of me.

I studied the way the silver coins rattled and settled, and noted how dirty they were. A few had dents; one was so bad that I knew some people would likely not accept it as payment. Especially out here this far north.

Their bad condition was the least of my worries, though. The sad reality was I'd just signed up for a losing battle for what was the equivalent of two simple meals.

Yet as bad their condition was, and how little value they had, I had no choice but to reach out and scoop them up.

At least this band paid up front. Most didn't do so until after the battle was over. Hoping that we'd die on the field and not need payment.

Likely a hint at how desperate they were for every pair of wings, and a sign of how stupid those like me were to accept them.

"Food?" I asked as I held the coins in my hand, judging the weight of them. They were a tad too light, but that might just be because of their condition and not because they were counterfeit.

"One meal a day during the engagement. If you get injured enough, such as a lost limb or something, you'll receive medical attention and one month care," she said smoothly, answering me in the same way she has likely answered hundreds of others today.

I nodded. That was reasonable. Not the best, but I'd had worse.

"Go find a wagon, you'll be given some equipment on the field," the girl said as she went to make a little mark on a ledger. As she did, and I stepped away, a tall and lanky man stepped up to take my spot. He grunted, not saying a word, as she went to explain the process and pay to him too.

As I stepped away, I glanced at the four guards standing near the girl and her table. Behind the table, hidden underneath it, was what had sounded like a box full of coins. She had scooped up my payment from it, and was now doing the same for the lanky man too. Although the silver coins were subpar, and from a nation whose currency was failing, that box still held wealth. Enough that usually they'd be a little more careful with it. But I doubted anyone would try to steal it here, even from this group destined to fail. Even if you did kill all four of them, there were dozens more all around us and hundreds more around them. No one wanted to fight so many at once. Not willingly.

I left the little recruitment stand, and glanced around at the small encampment. There were dozens of tents of varying sizes, flags with emblems flapping in the light wind, and probably almost fifty wagons and carts scattered amongst them all. It was a noisy place, since everyone was readying for the battle about to happen in a couple days.

Sighing softly, I glanced down at the five coins in my hand. They looked how I felt.

Old. Weathered. Broken and worthless.

Sometimes I wondered if I was making a mistake. My siblings undoubtedly didn't struggle like this. They were stupid, but at least they didn't need to worry about food or clothes. But that meant living off the Society. To suck that tit like a worthless leech without any shame.

Putting the coins away, I went to find the tent where I could buy a meal. Usually before such battles the ones who hired us mercenaries had little areas where we could either spend money, or receive whatever stipends they gave for joining. There might even be some stalls set up by the local villagers nearby, as to profit off all this commotion. Some of the larger mercenary bands even had traveling merchants that followed them, though weren't officially a part of the band itself. More than a few times I'd encountered what had felt like whole towns set up, either along roads or right outside proper towns. Not too long ago I had walked through what had felt like a sea of stalls and tents, since there had been hundreds of them. Each selling whatever they were trying to peddle.

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Here though it looked like my options were limited.

In this case other than the coins it seemed all we'd get was that single meal. I might as well find out if they'd give it today, or if I had to actually wait until the battle itself. If not I'd be using my first, and likely only, paycheck to eat.

It's been almost a week since I'd had a good meal. I was doing my best to not notice how much my stomach hurt, but it was growing hard.

Before arriving here I had tried to hunt, but hadn't happened on anything to catch. Not even a rabbit. Hopefully my mother never finds out how poorly I'm doing, otherwise I might lose my right to fly alone in this world.

"She'd likely sic Vim on me…" I groaned at the idea as I found a larger tent, one with a bunch of benches and tables… and a huge pot being simmered and cooked in the middle of it.

The smell alone made me wheezy. It smelled so good it hurt. So I hurried over to it and the two men who were working it. One was stirring it with a huge stick, another was chopping up what looked like chunks of a deer hind on a table nearby.

"Is this the free meal, or do I gotta pay for it?" I asked gently as I tried not to stare and drool at the stew.

"Regretfully it's the free one. Good for you that it's free, but bad for you that it's rationed. Grab one of the bowls," the man stirring the pot said with a point to a stack of small wooden bowls in a box nearby.

I nodded as I grabbed one, and upon doing so realized why he had said what he did.

It was tiny. So tiny it was comical.

But it was better than nothing.

"Doubt you need that big a pot if this is all we get," I said lightly as I stepped over to the man and the pot. He took the bowl from me and dunked it into the stew, and I noticed he made sure to get as much of the actual meat and foodstuff in it, and not just broth, as he could. It was a kind gesture, especially for a mercenary such as me.

"You'd be surprised. If you're still hungry after, which you will be, that tent over there is the local baker's guild. The agreement with the Lord is they're the only ones allowed to sell food out here to us," the man said as he handed me back the bowl.

I nodded in thanks, both for the information and the food. "Thank you," I said as well, and stepped aside since a pair of men walked over to grab some food too.

They of course had not provided anything to eat the stew with, but I didn't care. I gulped and ate the few bites given to me quickly. The stuff tasted good at least.

"Branch?"

Lowering the bowl from my face, since I had been gulping down the last bit of broth, I licked my lips as I turned to look at who had addressed me.

A woman I didn't recognize relaxed a little at my looking at her, and she gave me a gentle smile as she gestured behind her. "My brother recognized you. He asked me to come invite you to our little group," she said.

Brother…?

I leaned a little, to look past the woman. She was about my height, and although wasn't scrawny she didn't look like much. At least, she didn't since she was a human. I tried to think of what scheme she was planning, since I didn't see anyone I recognized in the direction she had pointed.

Such things were common amongst mercenaries. They formed little groups, little platoons, often. It was a way to keep safe while in armies that only held your allegiance with a few coins. They were as quickly as to betray you as you were them. So having someone by your side who was in the same position, who you could rely on and they you, was important. But…

Why had he sent her to fetch me and not come himself, if this was true…?

She noticed my doubt, and turned to point better. I followed her thin finger and found him. He was working a few tents away, helping load a cart.

"They wouldn't let us ride unless he helped load. Otherwise he would have come to say hi himself. If you're willing to join us, we'll give you a share of our meal we're about to have," she offered with a small smile. One that told me she knew full well her bribe was going to work, before I even did.

I shifted a bit and glanced down at the tiny bowl in my hand. Its emptiness made my stomach hurt even more.

"Not much to share, is there?" I asked as I lifted the bowl.

She snickered at that. "We have our own food. Come on," she beckoned as she turned away. She didn't wait to see if I'd join her or not, she knew I would.

And I did.

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