by Pirateaba
“Well, in that case we’ll be out soon. If you’re cold, the door’s open.”
“I won’t be cold. I will be waiting, sir!”
I shake my head to myself as I walk back to the cottage. How did it come to this?
I brighten up a bit when I push open the door and smell meat cooking. Durene’s poking at the pan, and I can tell there are some thick slabs of ham waiting to be eaten.
“Smells good.”
“It does, doesn’t it?”
Durene sounds just as excited as I am as she flips the dripping slices onto a plate. She and I eat at a table—me ignoring Frostwing’s chirps as she tries to get me to feed her.
“You’re disgusting, you know that?”
“Me?”
“Not you, silly. Frostwing. Didn’t you just eat the entire bowl?”
“I dunno Laken, she looks hungry. She’s getting bigger—what if we gave her some?”
“Maybe later. There’s such a thing as overfeeding her, Durene.”
“Oh, right.”
“…You can feed her that one bit.”
“Okay!”
I smile to myself as Frostwing shrieks in delight and then begs for more. Who knew a bird could beg? But then my smile falters a bit as I bite into my own bit of fried ham. Yes, it’s delicious. But the mere fact that Durene and I are feasting on ham for breakfast is a concern.
We’re eating meat. And that might be normal in my world, but in Durene’s, or at least, in her village, that’s a luxury. And it’s happening because all the animals in Riverfarm are dead.
They were all buried in the avalanche, and unlike the people, we didn’t get to them in time. Chickens, pigs, cows—even if you ignore the people that died, this was a disaster in its own right. These animals are what Riverfarm depends on for food and coin, and they were all killed at once.
The one small mercy was that at least their bodies were frozen. It means that the villagers and Durene and I can eat the animals one by one and stretch out our food stocks that way. But still. This would cripple any village and make it that much harder to survive the winter in the best of times.
And after the avalanche, Riverfarm is certainly not going through the best of times. That’s why despite our big and delicious meal, Durene and I are out of the cottage in the next fifteen minutes, and we walk with Gamel trailing in our wake to Riverfarm in good time.
“Mister Laken!”
“Emperor Laken!”
“Emperor!”
“Sire!”
Countless voices greet me as I walk into the village. I smile and wave, and greet people by name. I’m used to the attention by now, at least enough so that I don’t get slowed down and get to the village center in good time. When I’m there, I immediately cast around the village with my [Emperor] senses.
Let’s see. What’s changed since yesterday? Some new houses are excavated—good. Nothing’s collapsed today, which is a relief. The dead animals—
—Are still frozen in the ground. But one of them looks…gnawed at? I frown.
“Mister Prost?”
With my senses I can tell the man jumps as I address him directly among the crowd. People still can’t quite believe I can sense things without seeing. But he hurries forwards as I call him.
“Yes, Mister Laken?”
“One of the dead cows—the one buried just past the barn—looks like it’s been partially eaten. Have animals found the body?”
“I don’t know. I’ll have someone check at once!”
Prost’s voice is filled with consternation and I hear him hurry off. In minutes he’s back with news.
“Animals did eat at the body, sir! Looks like foxes or something similar. They ate a good bit.”
“That’s not good.”
I sigh as I hear people around me mutter. Well, I suspected this would happen.
“Looks like wildlife is returning to the area after the avalanche. We’ll need to make sure they don’t get at any more of the dead animals before we can properly smoke them, salt them, or preserve them some other way.”
“That will be hard, sir.”
Prost sounds worried. I nod, but try to look for a better angle. There has to be something…
“What if we set traps for the foragers? We could catch a few animals—maybe more food for the pot?”
“That could work!”
The man brightens up and I hear voices sounding approving around me. Jeez. As if that was some brilliant idea. Any one of them could have come up with it—they’d probably be able to execute it far better than I could since they actually know how all of this works. But they let me do the thinking and deciding, because I am an [Emperor] after all, and don’t I know best?
This is how my day goes now. I coordinate with Prost about getting people to set traps up as Durene goes to help dig. She’s been doing it every day—we’ve nearly gotten all of the houses excavated, but there’s still tons of snow around the village that could be cleared out. And the fields—
“At the very least, we should focus on finding a place to store the dead animals. The barn perhaps. If we could close the doors and put the frozen bodies in the snow there, that might keep a lot of hungry animals at bay.”
“We can do that. Just give the word, Mister Laken.”
“I’m just worried larger predators will smell the dead bodies and come searching.”
“Aye, that’s true. The Emperor has a point. What if a bear scents out the carcasses?”
I hear a murmur of worry.
We’ll have to have eyes on the barn, then. But we can’t just let the bodies rot and keeping them buried is just asking for trouble. Let’s get to it.
Prost takes command of a few villagers, and I choose more people who either volunteer or who I know have good Skills for the job. No one complains. Everyone’s so full of this—this can-do attitude it almost makes my heart hurt.
Here they are, days after an avalanche that killed their family and friends, and they’re putting their lives back together. Without a word of complaint. Helping one another, sharing all they have. All they needed was a little nudge to do it.
“But it isn’t good enough.”
I mutter the words quietly as I sit in Prosts’s house, repurposed to act as a central hub I can work in.
“What’s that, sir?”
I shake my head at Gamel as he leans forwards and to pay closer attention. It’s nothing.
Liar. I know what the problem is, and I know I have to address it soon. Today. The villagers are working hard, I know that. They’ve excavated their village, repaired damage, worked together, buried the dead. They’ve performed a small miracle, but—
“But we don’t have enough food to last the winter. And nor are we ready for a monster attack.”
That’s the situation I lay out in front of Prost and the other older villagers later that day. I hear them talking amongst themselves, but they go quiet when I continue.
“We’ve got stores of food of course—plenty, in fact. And the harsh truth of it is that we’re benefited by having fewer mouths to feed. But—even so. We lost all the animals, and a number of cellars where the snow and ice smashed everything to bits. And there are other villages that were hit too—what if relatives come? People seeking aid, who weren’t as fortunate as us? What if there are more mouths to feed? And while we’re struggling to make ends meet, monsters could attack us at any time.”
I’ve never seen a monster, but Durene and the others have told me stories, and they’re horrific. Monsters, especially smart ones like Goblins, love to attack when people are at their weakest. I’m sure Riverfarm is a lovely target for them, and the other villagers know I’m right.
“What should we do then, Mister Laken? Do you have a plan?”
That’s Prost’s voice again. He seems to speak for a lot of the villagers. I nod at him, trying to project confidence so he won’t be worried. Odd. A few days ago he was trying to tell me what to do. Now—
“I do. If we don�
�t have enough food here, and we need help, we might as well just buy it.”
“Buy it? You mean—from a city?”
Consternation fills the room. I wait for them to quiet, and then ask for opinions. Again, Prost is first up to bat.
“Pardon me, Mister Laken, but I’m afraid our village doesn’t have the coin to buy enough food—let alone hire adventurers to guard us. We never did. We could buy enough food for a few weeks maybe, or hire a few bronze-rank adventurers for the same amount of time if we pool our coin, but…”
He trails off helplessly. The other villagers mutter their agreement. It’s so—interesting. None of them want to tell me I’m wrong, even when they are telling me just that. It’s like they want to be proven wrong, to know I’ve always got something up my sleeve.
That’s unhealthy. I need to get them to stop thinking like that. Even if…they’re right in this case.
I clear my throat.
“Money will not be an issue, ladies and gentlemen. I happen to have quite enough coin to pay for whatever Riverfarm needs.”
“You do?”
I nod at Mister Prost.
“Remember the gold coin I traded you, Mister Prost? I have hundreds more like it.”
Is it risky telling a bunch of desperate villagers I’m rich? Maybe. And some would say that’s especially true since I’m blind. But I have a good read on these people. They’re honest, hardworking, loyal—even if they are a bit racist. And they look up to me.
My faith in them is not misplaced. If anything, I underestimate their spirit. After the shocked exclamations die down, one of the other villagers, a woman named Teriane, speaks up.
“Mister Laken, we can’t hardly have you paying for all of us! We’d never be able to repay you!”
The others mutter sadly in agreement. I just shake my head.
“Nonsense. No one needs to pay me back anything. I’m your [Emperor], so it’s only natural that I’d take care of my citizens.”
Also, I got the money practically for free. But when the villagers hear this, they’re moved to tears. Literally, in some cases. I feel bad—but I feel worse when they begin to cheer.
“Emperor Laken!”
“Long live Emperor Laken!”
“Emperor!”
Oh god. This is too much for me. Eventually I get them all to sit down and shut up, and I keep going with my plan.
“Okay, money isn’t an issue, but what is important is getting to a proper place to spend all of what I have. To that end…I’m going to Invrisil.”
“What?”
“It’s the only way!”
I talk over their exclamations. I explain as best I can.
“I’ll take Durene—and Frostwing too, I suppose. The three of us can move quickly, and go to the Adventurer’s Guild and marketplace to buy all we need.”
“But sir—you can’t! It’s too dangerous for you and—and especially Durene!”
Prost is the first to speak up. I can tell he’s agitated, and I understand why.
Durene. She’s always wanted to go to a city, and always been too scared of what treatment she might receive. But this—
“Durene is the only person who can guide me properly. I trust her, and she’s strong.”
“Then why not let one of us go instead?”
“Do you really think you’d be safe, Mister Prost? Even if I sent ten people—what if you were attacked by bandits? Or if someone tried to mug you for the gold?”
They can’t reply to that. I nod seriously.
“I’ve been thinking this over. Durene might stand out, but she’s stronger than any thug, and I…I’m an [Emperor]. We’d stand more of a chance, and besides, who would try robbing a blind man and a half-Troll?”
Well, more people would try to rob me than Durene. But the villagers still don’t like the idea.
“What will happen when you’re gone, though? Emperor, sir, we need you!”
“You don’t need me.”
I scowl as I override their objections.
“No, be quiet! You don’t need me. You did perfectly well when I wasn’t here, and I’ll only be gone a few days at the most. And when I return, I’ll have everything we need.”
“But—”
I can hear part of their fear unspoken in their voices. It’s not just the dangers they worry about. It’s that I might abandon them. I mean, it’s not as if I didn’t think of it. What’s stopping me and Durene from just leaving Riverfarm to their fate?
My duty as an [Emperor], that’s what. And if not that, my soul.
“Mister Prost.”
I walk up to the man, and take him by the arm. He starts at my touch, but I look at him. My eyes are closed obviously, but this is as close as I can get to what it would be like if I could see.
“Mister Prost. I will come back. Riverfarm is my home, now. This is my empire. I will return. You have my word as an [Emperor] on it.”
I don’t know what Prost sees in my closed eyelids, but whatever I say, it works. In a moment he changes from arguing against me to arguing for me.
“Trust in Emperor Laken you lot! No—quiet Melpin! You don’t know what you’re talking about. If Emperor Laken say he’ll do it—he’ll do it!”
And that settles that. Oh, of course I had to reassure people and tell the others what was going to happen, but once I got the ball rolling, it couldn’t be stopped.
Not that there weren’t a few alterations, mind. In the end it was decided that we’d take a wagon. Durene would be able to pull me, Frostwing, and the gold and some travel supplies along. I objected of course, but Durene was the one who argued against me the most here.
“I can pull you all, Laken! Honest!”
Against my better judgment, I agreed to it, especially, as it turned out, because we’d be getting company. Gamel was chosen to accompany us—as a sort of helper to Durene and someone who could talk to guards and whatnot.
It made sense, and I couldn’t get the villagers to budge, so I let it all pass. That’s how we found ourselves getting ready long into the night, and I drew up some plans for the villagers to follow while we were gone.
Day 46
“The cart is loaded?”
“Yes sir!”
“Frostwing’s secure in her nest?”
I hear her shrill cry and nod.
“Durene? Are you sure about this?”
“Positive! Look, I can pull this so easily!”
Durene demonstrates and I wobbled and nearly lose my balance standing on the wagon.
“Oh! Sorry Laken!”
“Nevermind that. Okay, it’s time!”
I turn and wave to the villagers. They cheer and call out my name. Durene pulls the wagon, Gamel shouts and hollers back at his sweetheart, and we set out down the snow-covered road. The villagers worked all night to clear it so we can travel on, and the ride isn’t nearly as bumpy as I thought it would be.
I sit back down in the wagon and feel the comfy, warm blankets around me. The villagers really spared no expense giving me the luxury accommodations.
“Durene, just let me know when you get tired. If you can’t pull us all the way, I’m more than happy to get out and walk.”
“I’m fine, Laken! I could even pull Gamel!”
“That’s fine Durene. I like walking. I could—help pull if you need it.”
“No, I got it!”
We move onwards. I feel the fresh morning air in my face and sigh.
“This is so weird.”
“Isn’t it exciting?”
Durene’s voice is filled with delight and apprehension in equal measures. I can just tell she’s twisting in place as she walks to stare up at me.
“I’m so nervous, Laken! We’re going to a city! Not just a city, the city! The City of Adventurers!”
“I’ve never been there myself. Is it amazing?”
“Yes!”
Both Durene and Gamel chorus at the same time. I grin.
“But neither of you have been there befo
re, have you?”
Practically none of the villagers have. Invrisil is a huge city, and the people of Riverfarm trade with the local town rather than go all the way there. But the city is the dream of all young folk.
Including me, I guess.
“Laken?”
“Yes, Durene?”
I can hear the worry in her voice as she pauses before speaking.
“Do you really think it’ll be alright? I mean…for me?”
I take a while before I reply. That was my worry too. But…
“It’ll be okay.”
“You’re sure?”
“There might be some people who just look at you and judge you from first glance, but if there are, I’ll deal with them. I am an [Emperor], after all. And you are my lovely subject.”
“That makes me relieved. I mean, I’m just so nervous! We have a fortune in the wagon! What if someone finds out?”
Durene says it again, but I can tell she’s feeling better. I tease her as we go up a small slope that apparently leads out of the village.
“How will anyone find out? Unless you shout it to them, that is.”
“I’m just saying! There could be bandits, or monsters—”
“You’ll just have to defend me, then.”
“Me!?”
“Of course you! You’re my [Paladin], after all, aren’t you?”
“I guess…”
“Oh come now. Don’t worry, Durene! What’s the worst that could go wrong?”
Frostwing squawks in my ear, and Durene giggles. I sit back as Gamel starts talking about being an adventurer and maybe even going to Wistram, and Durene excitedly asks him what magic he’d study, and turn my face up to the sky.
I can’t tell whether it’s cloudy or clear skies above me. And maybe that’s a good thing, because I can always imagine that there’s a blue, clear sky overhead and the sun is shining bright. I’ve never seen blue, but I imagine it’s the color of adventure, of a new day.
Of hope.
Of course, I’ve always thought green was a rather hopeful color as well. But who ever heard of a green sky? Ah well, it’s all the same to me.
The wagon rumbles on as I, Laken Godart, [Emperor], prepare to go to Invrisil, the City of Adventurers to save my poor village from starvation and monsters. I lie back, breath in. And at last—