The sharp clang of a hammer hitting metal echoed across the small square, momentarily drowning out the cackle of the chickens scratching in the dust. Anna, her face smeared with flour, stopped kneading dough in the doorway of her small stone house and glanced towards the noise. Across the square, old Janek, the blacksmith, leaned against his anvil, wiping sweat from his brow with a rag.

"Janek! A hot one, eh?" Anna called, her voice carrying easily in the still air.

Janek straightened, grunting. "Hot enough to bake bread on the anvil itself, Anna! The fire feels like a welcome breeze today." He chuckled, a dry, rasping sound. "You're baking already? Market day must be getting close."

Anna nodded, wiping her hands on her apron. "Two days hence. I need to get enough loaves baked to trade for yarn. Little Marta has outgrown her tunic again, and the winter… well, we remember last winter, don’t we?" She shuddered slightly, despite the heat.

Janek grimaced. "Indeed. I still feel it in my bones. Had to spend half the spring forging new hinges for my door after the ice cracked them. Speaking of which, the Baron's men came through again this morning, demanding their taxes. Did they visit you yet?"

Anna's smile faltered. "Not yet. But I hear they've been… thorough. Old man Stefan next door had to sell his best goat just to keep a roof over his head. I don't know what we'll do if they demand more than I can offer in bread."

"Aye, they're greedy vultures, those men. Always looking for what they can take. Did you hear about the new miller the Baron's installed down by the river? Charges twice as much as old Ludek used to. Says it's for 'improvements'." Janek spat on the ground.

"Improvements for his own purse, more like," Anna agreed sourly. "Little wonder folks are talking about leaving for the East."

"East? To the Polish lands? Harder work and different masters, that's all they'll find. Better to stay here, where we know the land, even if it's hard." Janek shook his head. "Have you seen young Tomasz lately? He's been spending a lot of time down by the river, practicing his archery. Said he's going to join the Baron's guard."

Anna sighed. "He's a good lad, but easily swayed by promises of shiny things. I just hope he doesn't lose himself in service to that… that man."

A hen squawked loudly, flapping its wings as a small boy, barely old enough to walk, chased it across the square. Anna laughed. "Speaking of young ones, little Janek is quite the terror this morning. Keeps trying to steal dough from the bowl."

Janek smiled, a genuine smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes. "He'll be a blacksmith one day, strong and sturdy like his father. Maybe he'll even be better than me." He paused, his gaze drifting towards the Church steeple in the distance. "The priest said mass this morning. Prayed for a good harvest. We need it this year, Anna, we truly do."

"Yes," Anna said quietly. "May God hear his prayers. This year's crop is already looking…thin." She shooed a fly away from the dough. "I should get back to my work. I need to let it rise before the sun gets too high. And I hear my little terror calling for me again." She gave a tired smile. "Stay cool, Janek, as cool as a blacksmith can be, anyway."

"You too, Anna. And God keep you and your family safe from those tax collectors." Janek raised a hand in farewell and returned to his anvil, the rhythmic clang of his hammer resuming its song across the dusty square. Anna watched him for a moment, then turned back to her doorway, the smell of baking bread already beginning to fill the air, a small, comforting fragrance in a world that often felt harsh and uncertain.