by AC Cobble
The history with Rhys did little to stem Ferguson’s loquaciousness. Throughout the length of the Valley he regaled them with tales of his exploits. Occasionally, Rhys’ sword hand would get a little twitch, but the rest of them were able to treat it as pure, presumably fictional, theatre. If nothing else, the man had an imagination.
Rishram, the second Hunter Lord Foley sent, was Ferguson’s opposite. Where Ferguson was big and boisterous, Rishram was small and reserved. He rarely spoke and when he did it was in quiet tones. Not the silky, slow drawl that Saala had. Just quiet. The one attribute he shared with Ferguson was his bushy mustache. It seemed to take over his small dark face. Renfro and Ben joked that there must have been some wager involved.
His armaments were also different. He had light leather armor and carried a recurved horn bow, a quiver of arrows and two hunting knives. When Meghan asked him about a sword he curtly responded, “we’re in the Valley, what do I need a sword for?”
Most of the time he spent ranging ahead of them, he said for scouting, but Ben suspected just for the peace and quiet. He was decently skilled with his bow though. One time he was back with them, a covey of quail burst out of a nearby field and took flight over the road. Rishram swung his bow off his shoulder and started flying arrows at the flock. In heartbeats, he’d downed two of the birds.
Amelie and Meghan both clapped and cheered for him as he scuttled forward to retrieve the birds.
Rhys snickered while Rishram collected the birds, “five arrows and he takes down two of them.”
The next three weeks were like that. They travelled down the broad, well maintained roads of Sineook Valley with little concern for safety and little interaction with the residents. Both Towaal and Amelie preferred to avoid the small keeps of the local Lords. In the Valley, every town had a Lord and every Lord was looking to impress passersby with his court. They didn’t have time to stop and let each Lord try to outdo each other.
The towns were scattered about a half day apart from each other and were well spaced to support the agricultural commerce in the area. There were fields running from side to side across the wide valley and when there weren’t natural streams, irrigation ditches had been dug into an interconnected network. It was well organized and peaceful. These people were intent on minding their own business and tending to their fields.
It wasn’t so different from Farview mused Ben. You could replace any one of these small town Lords with Alistair Pinewood and it wouldn’t make a difference to the residents of the town. From the little they saw when they paused for supplies, it looked like people ignored the men sitting behind the walls of the keeps and proceeded with their lives with little need or want for the protection that the Lord offered.
After a few weeks of easy travel through the bucolic pastures and fields, they were passing through a plot of radishes on one side and some sort of small fruit bearing bush on the other. Ben shared his thoughts with Saala, “it doesn’t feel like these people need the Lords as badly as the Lords need the people. I mean, it doesn’t seem like there is risk of bandits, invading armies or other dangers that you need a Lord to face.”
“You could make an argument that you don’t need a Lord for those situations either,” replied Saala. “How did Lord Foley handle the demon attack on Snowmar any different than what Farview did? Foley sent word to Whitehall and Farview sent word to Murdoch’s. Those types of threats, you either organize or you send for specialists. By the time the Lord arrives with all of his arms men, the situation has probably been resolved, for good or for bad. I’ve spent a lot of time in the company of Lords and Ladies and I’m not sure there’s ever a time the common man really needs them.”
“Well, I was thinking that these people don’t need standing armies because of the geography, but some areas do,” Ben replied after thinking. “What about invading armies? You need more than a couple of Hunters to put a stop to that. Without the strength of the Alliance for example, the Coalition could run rampant. The people here need that protection don’t they?”
“Ah, now for that situation I’ll take a different argument. Yes, a little band like us has no chance of stopping the might of the Coalition, but in that case, are the Lords of Alcott helping to solve the problem or are they creating it? Without Lords and their like, there wouldn’t be a Coalition and there wouldn’t be an army that you needed protection from.”
Ben frowned, “maybe I’m missing something since I grew up without a Lord. If they don’t provide protection, why do people put up with them? What value are they adding?”
Saala gestured to the road they were walking on.
“Wait, you’re saying that they only reason people put up with these Lords is so that they can build roads?”
“I’m saying that is the value they add. Building a road like this is a massive undertaking and no individual could do it themselves. People can benefit from organization in society, and sometimes that takes the form of swearing fealty to a Lord. Sometimes it takes the form of your town council.”
“Why do they raise armies then if it’s not something the people need?”
“Fear,” responded Saala.
“Fear, what do you mean?”
“There are two ways a Lord can stay in power. They can take the tax dollars they collect and provide services their people need. They can invest it back into infrastructure and building opportunities for their people. This road for example, it allows the farmers of the Valley to transport their goods to markets where they can get a good price for their production. The irrigation ditches we’ve been passing allow water to the fields during a dry spell. These things require upkeep which people see the Lord doing. They are projects that tax money is being spent on and if it is a good investment, the people will support that Lord. But those projects are difficult and take a long time to complete. Inevitably, someone will not be happy with it even when it is for the common good. The farmer on the one side of the road who gets the water is happy, but the guy on the other side who didn’t get it that year is unhappy with the way his money has been spent.“
Saala continued, “even though it is difficult and sometimes unpopular, a good Lord will do these things for his people. When done right, over time the people will see that the Lord has their best interest at heart and they will trust and support him. Like I said though, that is difficult and takes years to achieve. Sometimes it is easier for the Lord to gain support by inciting fear in the population.”
“Building this road the length of the Valley must have taken decades to finish. In a few days, a clever Lord could place rumors in the streets and point to signs of how aggressive a neighbor is becoming. Before long, the people are seeing the signs themselves and begging that Lord for protection. He has a mandate now to raise taxes, build his army and collect more power for himself. If one was not concerned with the moral implications, one could argue that is the quicker way to a solid power base.”
“Hold on,” asked Ben, “do you think that is what Argren has done with this Alliance of his?”
Saala shrugged, “I’m not a Lord so it’s not my place to say. But he has gained fealty from Issen, the disconnected cities on the Blood Bay, Northport and Venmoor. That is certainly not something I think he could have achieved in one generation of public service projects.”
That night, they stopped a few days out from Kirksbane, a city on the Venmoor River and the official end of the Sineook Valley. They had been camping outside, away from the small towns scattered around this end of the valley. It was late spring, the weather was perfect for being outdoors.
Ben settled next to Meghan who was stirring a rich smelling stew over the small camp fire. Everyone except Towaal took turns on cooking duty and Meghan favored hearty vegetable soups. Ferguson was already ensconced there and was regaling Meghan with another one of his encounters.
“It was a brutal fight Miss. There were three of them coming at us like an avalanche. My mates and I, we spread out to meet them and braced for the charge. I drew P
anther and made sure I had plenty of room to swing. A girl like Panther needs room to growl.”
“Panther?” inquired Meghan.
Ferguson let off stroking this thick mustaches for a moment to caress the hilt of his huge two handed sword, “Aye, my girl Panther.”
“Your sword is named Panther?” Meghan quickly wiped at her mouth to cover her grin.
“All Blademaster’s swords are named Miss. It can seem a bit silly, I am sure, but it’s part of the legend we build around ourselves. You can charge more if your sword has a name.”
“Oh, of course. Go on.”
“Well, like I was saying,” he went back to talking and slowly stroking his whiskers, “there were three of them, all coming down on us at once. We met them with fury and steel. I chopped one of the bastards nearly in two with Panther. The other two got cut up by my mates. But before we finished them, they left eight of my friends face down. Horrible scene. You know how it is with demons, they leave a bloody mess behind. You folks were lucky you had a Mage with you to take care of it. I don’t think we’d be talking now if you didn’t. We just had 20 good men and our steel. It nearly wasn’t enough.”
“You have experience fighting demons?” Ben interrupted.
Ferguson shot him a look. He was on a mission to impress Meghan, but he knew she was close to Ben so he didn’t want to be rude. “Yes. You see them a lot in the Wilds beyond Northport. It’s demon country up there, and worse. It’s a good living for a Hunter though. The mines need protecting and there are the artifacts that people find from time to time. Old stuff and worth a bundle.”
“Demon country? Is that where they are from? I had never really thought about where they came from,” replied Ben.
“Well, I don’t know that they’re really from anywhere. They’re just kind of there, you know? I mean, no one’s found some place that they all leave from like a demon village. No one even knows how they’re born, if they even are. There isn’t any male and female like us but there are little ones. Probably grow like plants. That’s what I think at least and no one’s proved me wrong.”
“But,” Ben asked, “there are more of them near Northport?”
“Aye,” replied Ferguson, “they still roam free in the Wilds. Every year the hunting parties go out and try to thin em out, but they haven’t finished em yet. It’s tough and dangerous work. I was happy to do it when I was up there. If it wasn’t for people like me hunting for demon horns, well, people like you wouldn’t be safe.”
Rhys was dramatically rolling his eyes behind Ferguson’s back but didn’t speak up.
“I just don’t understand,” said Meghan. “Someone has to know where they come from and what they want, right?”
Ferguson responded, “the one thing we know for sure, when you see em, you kill em. Otherwise they’re going to kill you. That’s a fact and that’s all you really need to understand about it.”
Kirksbane
Two days later they made it to the low lying town of Kirksbane. It was situated on the open western end of the Sineook Valley and the bank of the Venmoor River. It marked the border between the fiefdoms of the Valley and the territory of Venmoor. The town spread out from a wide oxbow curve that caused a shallow point on the river.
Kirksbane, like the towns of the Sineook Valley, did not have a wall for defense. Ben remarked on it and Saala explained, “Kirksbane is strategically located but it’s not a source of political power in the region. It lives and dies on trade from the river and out of the Valley. Kirksbane only facilitates that trade. If someone wanted to cut it off it’d be easy to do without overrunning the town.”
“Well,” Ben replied, “it looks comfortable enough to spend a night.”
“Right,” grumbled Rhys. “I understand why we’ve been doing it, but I’m ready to get out from under the stars and into a clean bed.”
“Ha!” shouted Amelie. “I think we’ve been travelling together long enough Master Rhys for you to be honest with us. I’ve heard Venmoor’s taverns are legendary and I’m certain you have some favorites in Kirksbane you’d like to show us.”
Rhys mock bowed deeply towards Amelie. “I can see why the Sanctuary is so interested in you Miss. A deep thinker like you is certain to go far in this world.”
“I’ll accept your false praise in exchange for you showing us to a place that actually does have clean beds in addition to the cold ale.”
“As you wish,” he answered with a wink.
True to his word, Rhys led them to a sturdy, clean looking inn on the water that overlooked the shallows. After dropping off their gear and freshening up they met downstairs in the common room. It had wide doors that opened up to a back porch hanging over the water. The porch was framed by massive century old willow trees that drooped down to the water and gave the inn and private feel even though it was near the center of town.
As they settled into seats near the water a sultry voice called out, “welcome to The Curve! What can I get for you folks?”
Ben’s throat went dry. The woman’s honey blonde hair was piled up in a loose bun which accentuated her long neck and bare shoulders. She had on a white, loosely tied top that was hanging on precariously. Her dark skirts fell low enough to hide all but the toes of her shoes but swayed as she walked with a natural dancer’s grace. She was stunning. Not the classic, regal beauty of Amelie. An earthy approachable aura. She exuded sensuality.
“A couple of pitchers of ale please,” answered Amelie before glaring at the men around the table.
“Sure thing sugar, that’s our specialty. Master Taber brews it all in house. We have a golden lager, a red ale and a barley wine.”
Amelie gave Ben a sharp kick under the table before responding again, “maybe the expert here would like to choose. Ben, aren’t you supposed to be a brewer? What sounds good?”
“Oh, uh, yeah. I know how to brew beer,” he answered lamely.
The stunning barmaid leaned in, put a hand on Ben’s shoulder and purred, “congratulations, now what would you like to drink?”
Ben felt the red rising in his face as he ordered a round of lagers and ales and barely held his hand from moving to where the barmaid had touched his shoulder. With difficulty, he ignored the hard looks from the girls and turned towards the other men.
“A brewer?” asked Rishram. The man was so silent that Ben wasn’t even sure it was him who’d spoken at first.
“Yes, yes, I was the brewer at home before I left with Lady Towaal and her company.”
“So, not an arms man? I figured you must be, travelling in company like this. I’ve seen your fine sword. Venmoor steel if I’m not mistaken?” The little man was inching closer to Ben and his voice seemed to be dropping even lower. “With a Blademaster in your group and Master Rhys, how could you not be skilled?”
“Oh, no. I’ve done some practice with them but I don’t consider myself to be very skilled. We’ve been travelling so hard that there really isn’t time for it. Maybe someday. I haven’t figured out what I’ll do once all of this is over. I had planned to return home but maybe I’ll find employment with my sword or even open a brewery in The City.” He didn’t mean to share so much with the little Hunter but Ben figured it was better he talk than listen to that quiet, creepy voice.
He was saved from further awkward conversation with Rishram by Ferguson loudly slapping the table and near shouting, “a brewer huh! Now that is a profession I can get behind. People drink in both good times and bad. I once saved a brewer in Northport and the man was so grateful that I drank for free in that town until the poor fellow went out of business. Never understood that really…”
Ferguson’s monologue washed over Ben as he sat back and looked out over the bubbling water and watched the willow branches dance in the slow current. Three weeks away from the drama at Whitehall, the attack at Snowmar and the awkward interactions with Lord Foley. It felt good to be on the road with his companions and away from the pressures of the large towns where Amelie was known. He wasn’t s
ure what would happen when they made it to The City, but he decided he would enjoy this last stretch of the journey down the Venmoor River.
Later that evening, musicians started playing and the staff cleared the tables and pushed them to the edges of the room to make space for dancing. Their party relocated to the fringes of the room. Even though it had been easy travel through the Valley, it had still been nearly three weeks constantly on their feet. The music set a lively mood though and the revelry in the room was infectious.
Renfro slid onto the bench next to Ben and scooted close. “You should ask her to dance.”
Ben jerked his eyes away from the honey blonde barmaid who was gliding around the room swapping empty pitchers for full and deftly avoiding staggering and sometimes handsy patrons. “She’s working, what do you mean ask her to dance? She doesn’t have time for that kind of thing now.”
“Working?” guffawed Renfro, “I don’t think she’s worked a day in her life.”
Ben glanced at Renfro quizzically and saw he was looking at Amelie.
“Wait, you think I should ask Amelie to dance?”
“Of course! Who else do you think I was talking about? Meghan’s your sister and Towaal, well, Towaal is Lady Towaal. She knows it wasn’t anything serious with Meredith. Amelie knows I mean. That poor girl was reading into it more than was there. Amelie’s experienced with these things and she respected Meredith, even though she was overstepping. She doesn’t mind…”
“Hold on!” broke in Ben. “What are you talking about? You sound like one of the old women when they’d gossip over laundry back in Farview. Where did you hear all of this?”
Renfro adopted a hurt look, “it’s not gossip. I was just trying to help. Meghan’s been so worried about Amelie after the thing at Snowmar. She thinks a little excitement might be the cure and we all know the way Amelie was looking at you before Meredith moved in.”
“You’ve been talking to Meghan!” He was stopped when Renfro dug one of his sharp elbows into Ben’s side.