"Maybe he wants to sell the food at a high price?"
"All that meat will spoil in a day. Who would you sell it to?"
"We could salt it."
"I know Dahl. He's not a bad person at heart." Lame Bob's words made Dahl quietly straighten his chest. Bob lifted his head and sniffed. "And I know my own nose... That's the smell of meat cooking."
"I'm... Olmedo Just Right." Francois kept his promise. "Now, tell me why you're here."
"What if I only came for a bowl of Meat Soup?"
"Of course." Francois had someone bring over a chair.
Lame Bob decided to get straight to the point. "Actually, I wanted to ask if there's anything I can do to help."
Francois studied Lame Bob for several seconds, then glanced at Dahl and the others' reactions. He stepped aside. "Come in first."
The Magic Film had been put away for now. Meat bubbled in three large pots, and its aroma was beginning to drift out. The gang members gathered around the bonfire, their eyes reverent, as though taking part in some evil ritual.
After having a chair brought over for Lame Bob, who leaned on a cane, Francois stood before him. "To be honest, because you came to us on your own, I don't trust you... But Dahl says you're a Mage Apprentice and can treat illnesses."
"I do know a little about herbs..."
"Then how about I give you food, and you treat my gang members?"
Lame Bob looked over the docile thugs. "Is that all?"
"For now, that's all..."
Francois and Lame Bob did not trust each other yet. That would take time.
While the meat cooked, Lame Bob checked on the gang members and the children. Some had untreated injuries, and two gang members had fevers