by Eric Ugland
But this wasn’t Michigan, despite the empty Faygo bottle in my bag of holding. And these people were not accustomed to the same stretches of luxury that my former folk had developed. And to them, watching lions kick the shit out of someone meant some poor bastard just died in the arena. I wasn't exactly keen on building an arena somewhere.
"I'm sorry," I said, "I think I'm just coming at this from the wrong way. Will someone who has had a home here tell me what you need to be happy?"
The carpenter's wife, herself a seamstress, stepped up. "I'd like it to have a fireplace, or a means of heat. Osterstadt froze in the winter," she said, "I can only imagine it will be worse here."
"Perhaps a loft," Rebecca's sister-in-law, Elinora, said. “It is useful for families to have a second sleeping area, or for storage."
Lanfrank nodded a few times, as if these were great ideas.
"Are we thinking, like, these will be just a single room?" I asked.
"I fear you leap ahead of where we need to be," Lanfrank said. "These are projects once we have more time. For the moment, I think we are best served by building homes which nest against each other. Sharing walls. Simple boxes. They can be repurposed for stores or storage later down the road. For now, they will provide shelter and a modicum of comfort."
Eliza nodded. "I agree," she said. “Even having tents for right now would be a boon, but I fear the weather will prove too nasty."
"I give it four weeks before first snow," Lanfrank said, puffing out a cloud of blue smoke to punctuate his pronouncement. “Winter will be early this year. And hard.”
“Is that for sure?” I asked. “Do you have a skill or—”
“Educated guess.”
“I agree that time is of an issue,” Eliza said.
Listening to the debate heat up between the various parties involved, I couldn't help but wonder if there was something else to consider. What were the benefits, in game terms, to having individual family homes? Was there a way that I could see that before I made my decision? I wished I had a manual of some kind to illuminate some of the nonsense in this game-world.
But I didn't.
I did have Eliza.
"Eliza," I said, interrupting whatever everyone else had been saying, “Is there any obvious advantage, settlement-wise, or holding-wise I suppose, to having single family homes versus more communal living?"
Eliza mused over things for a moment, trying to remember something, but it was clear whatever she was trying to remember was a buried deep in her past.
"I would imagine there is," she said, "but what exactly it might be, I cannot answer. Usually, it would be a bonus to morale. Perhaps it would even have something to do with the quality of rest one might gain for sleeping here. In which case, the positive aspects could be quite stackable."
"So weighing that, do you think it might be worth the extra effort?”
"Only if you are still able to move your people into homes and out of the present longhouse in a reasonable time frame. I think your current living situation is having a deleterious effect on the village as a whole, and anything to alleviate that effect would be best in this situation."
This was a moment where it was good for me to be playing the extra idiot for her. Because I had no idea what deleterious meant.
So I asked.
She smiled. "Deleterious means causing harm.”
"Got it. Thanks for the vocab tip, Eliza. While I’d really like to figure this out, do some working on the actual mechanics of this holding nonsense—“
“You have this as a Holding?” Lanfrank asked.
“Yeah,” I answered. “I, well, it’s technically claimed as a dukedom—”
“You are quite the egoist,” he replied.
“Did we, I thought someone, like, made an announcement or something.”
“It is entirely possible I was not paying attention were it made. I have been feeling, well, relaxed more than anything. This little place is so much nicer for my clan than Osterstadt ever was.”
“Uh, it’s kinda nothing right now, but—”
“We are welcome here,” Lanfrank said. “That is not nothing. For some of us, that is a first, and it is everything.”
I felt my cheeks flush, and I smiled and nodded. I really didn’t know how to react to something like that.
“Okay, so, housing,” I said.
Essie had her hand up.
I looked over at her. “What?”
“Why am I here?” Essie asked.
“Because I was thinking, maybe, you could cut out big chunks of stone, and we could use those as, like, pre-made walls or something.”
“I can cut bricks and stuff,” she said. “But bigger stuff is limiting because only you can move it.”
“My lord,” Lanfrank said, hopping up off his stump and heading over to me, “if I might be so bold as to have a word with you in private?”
I looked over the little figure, his canine features both alien and amusing. His bushy mustache and his droopy ears offset by the bright and sparkling eyes that bespoke of a vibrancy and intelligence.
“Sure,” I said.
We walked a fair distance from the gathered group. Though the prinkies followed, we were in relative privacy.
"What's up?" I asked.
"I fear, my lord," Lanfrank began, "you are inserting yourself in a matter where you need not. There are plenty of things which surely require your attention in our little valley home, but in this matter, I ask that you simply decree what it is you desire, and then let others actually do the building. Because, and I mean this to be far more gentle than I fear it will sound, you do not possess the requisite learning to make the choices you are attempting. And, frankly, it will require more time for us to school you in that regard than it would for you to tell us what to do."
"Oh," I replied. "I see."
Lanfrank looked at me, concerned. I think he thought I was going to be upset, and in a small part, I was because I had wanted to be involved in this, but he also had a very good point. I didn't know how to build a house. I didn't know what homes even needed to look like here. My current involvement was just opening up debates, and not actually allowing any forward progress to happen.
"What do you need from me, then?" I asked.
Lanfrank let out the breath he'd been holding, and smiled at me.
"What is it you desire us to build?"
""Homes."
"How many would you like to house?"
"Everyone?"
"And how quickly?"
"As soon as possible?"
"We were able to build the first longhouse using reclaimed goods from the wagons in roughly a day. If you can pry the carpenter from Lee, I believe we could have individual homes built to the tune of one or two a day."
"And if he stays with Lee?"
The battenti took a big puff from his pipe and sent out some small smoke rings.
"I think our housing plans would need to change a little. Perhaps, well, we might need your strength then, and we would probably be better served building a few longhouses. Log longhouses, using some of the larger trees that have been felled. I think that would probably be three days for each one. Longer to get the furniture installed, but three longhouses would certainly provide adequate shelter until such time as we could make more homes."
Again, the debate. Communal living versus single-family homes. A decision had to be made, and it would likely be better that the decision came from me.
"Make the longhouses," I said. "But keep them, well, make them wider than normal. I want these to be able to shift into storage if we can get people out of them."
Lanfrank smiled.
"A good decision, my lord."
"Is it, though?"
"Any decision is the right decision at the present, my lord. The worst thing we could do is allow ourselves to become seized by inaction."
Lanfrank puffed happily as he marched back to the group, and immediately began shouting out orders.
People ju
mped into action, and the prinkies started running and digging. Everyone had something to do.
Except me.
And Eliza. Well, she might have had something to do, but she chose to come over to me instead of hopping into the action.
"Longhouses?" she asked.
"I think that's the current best option," I said. "You?"
"That remains to be seen."
"Quite the politic answer," I said. "A decision had to be made, so I made it."
"And now?"
“I suppose now I move on to the next quest."
Chapter 69
I'd been neglecting something. Or someone. Two someones really. To be fair, they hadn't exactly been keen on interacting with me, but I was the bigger man, literally, so it was time to be one figuratively as well. I went into the stinky longhouse and found the two snoring lumps that made up the bulk of my hirð.
I sat down against the wall next to Ragnar, and listened to him sleep. I could hear construction happening in the village just outside, shouting as things went wrong, cheering when something went right. Lanfrank yelling at the prinkies. The two lutra had been standing guard at night since the kidnapping, and I had to imagine it was starting to wear on them.
Ragnar woke up. Granted, it was because I poked him, but still, he was awake.
I let him poke Skeld.
They both glared at me.
"All right dudes," I said. “What's wrong?"
"You left us here when you went on your quest," Skeld said.
"That's it?" I asked. "I thought I did something terrible."
"You did do something terrible," Ragnar spat out. "We are meant to be part of you. Part of what you do, part of your legend. When you leave us behind, when you leave us out of the knowledge of what you are doing. Then you treat us as little more than common servants."
"You guys aren't servants," I said.
"We know," Skeld replied. "We are your hirð, we are something more. We know your truth, as you know everything about us. And so we expect to be treated as such."
I looked from furry face to furry face, and I had to hide my confusion. I didn't really understand why they were so upset. Why this mattered so much to them. And how it was a big deal.
"I mean, are you upset because you wanted to go?"
"We are upset—“
"I can speak for myself," Ragnar interrupted Skeld to say. "I am upset because I want to know what is happening in this holding, and with my duke. I am not a casual guard who holds the gate and counts wagons as they come through. I am your hirðman."
"As am I," Skeld said. "And going off on your own made it very likely you would perish. Our lives are tied to yours, and if you end your life because you are doing something stupid, we are the ones who will pay the price.”
“Do you realize what happens to us when you die?” Ragnar asked, getting to his feet and glaring at me. “We lose everything we have gained following you.”
“And we are left bereft of anything we have worked for, for we gave our lives away to follow you.”
I opened my mouth a few times, but there was really nothing there. I didn’t know what to say. The whole hirð thing was definitely more than I had realized. There were some real consequences to it that I’d really kind of ignored because, in a way, they didn’t apply to me. As the focal point of the hirð, I really just got the good bits. But these two really did need to worry about what might happen should I die. Or get bored. Or anything. They tied their lives to mine, and realistically, had little to no say in what was going to happen. And I had, more or less, just treated them like guards. I needed someone to watch the village at night, so I had the lutra do it. And they were calling me on my bullshit. Which, you know, good for them. Someone needed to.
“I’m sorry, guys,” I said. “I just wasn’t thinking. Thing is, you guys are all that we’ve got right now, security wise.”
Skeld nodded, but Ragnar didn’t seem as quickly mollified.
“Someone has to sit back here to guard the homefront,” I continued. “Especially at night. And you two are the only ones I trust to do that.”
“So we’re indispensable,” Ragnar said.
“Of course. This place doesn’t work without you two.”
“See,” Ragnar said, looking over at Skeld, “we’re not just guards. We’re important guards.”
I gave Ragnar a look.
“We cool?” I asked.
There was a pause, then some smiles.
“It is important to us you acknowledge who we are and what we do,” Skeld said. “And that we will be back to questing with you soon.”
“As soon as I can get you guys back out there with me, but I’m not exactly heading out into anything exciting. I’m just, you know, trying to make this place work.”
“It smells in here,” Ragnar said.
“Yeah, I’m quite fucking aware of that,” I said. “Especially right now.”
Someone was shouting outside, calling for me.
“Okay, well,” I said, “this has been joyful, but I think you need to sleep some more, and apparently I have somewhere I need to be.”
Chapter 70
I hiked away from the village with my fishing pole and supplies. Fritz lumbered along next to me, having grown tired of the work he’d been doing. Tarryn, for his part, had been roped into working, so I figured this was a fair trade. Fritz could be my unnecessary bodyguard for a spell. While I wanted to invite Ragnar and Skeld, they were still our main night guards, and had switched to an almost entirely nocturnal existence. I could still see the village — well, the walls around the village. I could watch the logs get put up, and, if necessary, I could run over and help. And I could see our brand-new water wheel turn as the river flowed along.
We found a fantastic little spot, with a slight waterfall, some big rocks, and a large tree hanging over a nearly perfect seat. The river below the small fall formed a beautiful pool, deep and blue and delightful.
I sat down and dropped my line in the water.
Fritz found a large sunny spot on the far side of the tree, and dropped down on his belly. The snoring started in a heartbeat. There was definitely something oddly soothing about the noise.
I leaned back against the tree, keeping one eye on my line, half-hoping the fish wouldn’t be biting. I mean, it was the middle of the afternoon. Obviously it wasn’t the ideal time to fish — if you were hoping to actually catch fish. But if you wanted to relax, it was pretty perfect.
Just as I was failing to keep both eyes open, something snatched at the worm on the end of my line. It held for a moment, but then it snapped.
I looked at the rod.
And then I threw it to the ground.
It was the first rod I got, the one I’d received with my starting kit. It felt more sporting to use that. The super rod from Mister Paul just seemed like cheating. Functionally unbreakable line, snazzy blue color. What fish could resist that? I tied on a hook, but didn’t bother with bait — I just dropped the new line in the water, and then I leaned back against the tree, closed both eyes, and enjoyed feeling the dappled sun dance across my face.
Obviously I fell asleep. There was no way around it. It was just so warm and comfy.
I woke with a start.
It was still light out, the sun still hung high in the sky. I looked around, trying to figure out why I’d woken. The river ran on, loud enough to drown out any real noise. The work continued apace on the wall. Actually, it looked like it had sped up some — the short section along the river had been completed, and they were most of the way down the single long section. Fritz still snoozed away in the sunlight, oblivious to everything, including the two song birds that sat on the pseudo-shark-fin-looking thing poking up from his back.
I didn’t have any dreams bouncing around in my memories; it had just been a quaint afternoon schnoo. I wasn’t thinking about anything, really. Even before the nap, I’d mostly been focused on not thinking about things, so I was confused.
But the
re was a nagging feeling. This sense that someone, or something, was watching me.
I scanned the environment around me. Nothing. But then I stopped myself, and forced thinking to happen. I needed to be smarter, and that started now.
If I was going to watch someone, obviously I wouldn’t do it from the same side of the river. I’d be on the other side. That’d give me a physical barrier to be safe in case the something I was watching woke up.
So I peered across the river.
It wasn’t easy to see through the heavy forest. It hadn’t been cut back in any fashion, and the perpetual access to water meant the vegetation had grown exceptionally thick over time. Nothing stuck out to me, nothing indicated even the slightest bit of civilization or a being watching me. Could it be an animal of some kind? A predator?
Then I saw it.
Two eyes blinked.
It was more luck than anything else — I just happened to glance at the right spot at the right time. I made sure to keep looking around like I hadn’t noticed anything. I swept my head back and forth as if I couldn’t find what I was looking for, and then, hardest of all, I forced myself to shake my head as if I was crazy.
I reeled my line in, all relaxed like, and tossed it out again, letting the hook plonk into the pool below. Then I leaned back and closed my eyes.
Then, real subtle-like, I reached out with my tremorsense. Which was definitely a challenge. The river played some real havoc with it, since all the water provided a slew of vibrations. It took a minute before I could pinpoint where the creature stood.
I opened my eyes the barest amount, just peeking through my eyelashes.
A creature was watching me. Now that it thought I was sleeping again, I could see it take a more aggressive approach to looking around. It definitely gave some attention to Fritz. Also some to the walls, but it seemed more curious about me and Fritz than the town and our defenses. Which gave me a slight sense of comfort.