by Eric Ugland
The walls around the town were wooden, made of logs that had been sharpened at one end and then buried in the ground. They were about twenty feet high. A guard clad all in black like all the other Mahrduhmese army regulars dozed at the entrance, his helmet covering his eyes and his spear left forgotten on the ground. I walked by without bothering to wake the guy, and started exploring.
It was a small place that had the feeling of a frontier town, but one that seemed reasonably safe — sleepy guardsman and all. It made me hope Coggeshall would be like that soon. I wondered if life was safer on this side of the mountain. Fewer monsters, perhaps? It didn’t make a whole lot of sense to me, but what did I know? There was so much about this world that was just a fucking mystery to me.
I walked down what was obviously the main street, with houses built around the back of the few businesses on said main street. A rather obvious general store, a bar, and something I had to assume was a brothel attached to that. At the far end were two temples, one on either side of the street, and then a government building of some kind, only identifiable because of the gallows in front.
There were a few guards, all in black, naturally, lounging on the steps of the government building, and a few wagons in the streets. Horses were tied up here and there, and a small herd of sheep grazed on a patch of grass that surrounded a big well. The place had echoes of a township in the wild west. Except, you know, for the lack of guns.
No one gave me a second look. There was no scandalous quieting as the beleaguered wild man walked through town. If anything, begrudging boredom was thrown my way. As if the townsfolk were so used to giant half-dressed weirdos showing up out of nowhere.
A few men chatted in front of the tavern. Some men and women were in the midst of unloading wagons in front of what looked like an office building. A really big gent swaggered in my general direction, which made me think he was the sheriff. Or at least, the local law enforcement.
“Morning,” he said. “You doing all right?”
“Seems like it,” I said. “And a good morning to you.”
“You seem to be missing your clothes.”
“Considering how sunny it is out, I wouldn’t exactly say I’m missing them.”
He smiled at me, chuckling at my stupid joke. “You got enough coin to get yourself covered up so you do not go back out and freeze?”
“Yessir.”
“You come up short, you come see me.”
“Apologies, sir, I don’t know who you are.”
“CcaerLlion Pritchard, lord of the realm. What realm it may be.”
“Oh,” I said, giving a slight bow, “forgive me my lord—“
“None of that all the way out here. The queen may stand on formality in the palace, but titles and bowing will not put food in your belly come winter, will it?”
“I suppose you could eat the paper they’re printed on.”
“Aye,” he said with a smile, “that you could. New to the lands?”
“I am. But more passing through.”
“Oh?”
“An explorer. I want to, uh, see what’s west of here.”
I noticed his hand reach for a pouch and pull something out. I think he thought he was being subtle, but it was pretty obvious. I pretended not to notice, just being polite.
“You with the army?” he asked, faking his smile.
“No, my lord,” I said. “I’m no deserter.”
He glanced at the thing he had in his hand, and then released the breath he’d been holding.
“I appreciate the call of the unknown,” he said. “Time was, when I was a younger man, I might have been tempted to join you out there.” He put his arm around my shoulder, with a little effort, and then paused. “You are a big one.”
“So I’ve been told.”
“And not in the army? How did you manage to escape notice?”
“Big country out there. Plenty of space for a man to mosey about on his own.”
“Fair enough,” he said, and started walking me through the town. “Only one store here yet. Prices are a bit mean, shopkeeper is a bit of a—“
“Prick?”
“Your words, not mine. But I will not disagree with you.”
The lord guided me to the lone store, and then gave my shoulder a squeeze.
“Good gods,” he said, “like a rock. You ever think of joining, say, a retinue?”
“Not yet,” I replied.
“If you do—“
“First on the list.”
“Just the sight alone will keep the bandits at bay. Good luck in there.”
With a second shoulder squeeze and a shake of the head, the lord of the realm headed off into his town. I looked into the general store. It looked, well, like a general store. All made of wood, windows in the front with wooden shutters and no glass. There was a large counter, and a lanky man standing behind said counter. He had a pamphlet in front of him, and idly thumbed between the pages.
I walked through the door, and he closed the pamphlet and slid it off the counter.
An eyebrow raise was all I got from him when he looked over me.
“Few things you need, eh?” he asked.
“Might be.”
“You here to sell things?”
“Not much I got on offer.”
“I will take your pants.”
“I might need to buy another pair first.”
He nodded. “Got pants.”
“Shirts?”
“Ayuh. Got shirts too.”
“That would fit me?”
“Might do.”
“I’ve got some coin as well.”
“Oh?”
I nodded.
“Then you being in a store seems a good place to be.”
“Sure.”
We stood there awkwardly for a moment. Or, rather, I stood there awkwardly.
“You familiar with stores?” he asked. “Usually you tell me what it is you need, I tell you the price, you buy it or not. Tough for me to just offer up what you might be thinking you’re wanting.”
“How much will you give me for these pants?”
“Snowbold pants are a mint. I can give you, say twelve gold. Be better if you had the coat, but, you do not.”
“How about you give me, say twenty gold store credit for the pants.”
“Eighteen in credit.”
“Deal,” I said. “Now, what kind of pants you got for sale?”
Chapter Eleven
The shopkeep wasn’t the most talkative sort. I was in the store for a good half hour, maybe longer, and he let nothing personal go about himself. Not even his name.
Even so, I walked out of the shop feeling like I’d made out well enough. I traded the mace in for a bastard sword, a nice big jobbie that the shopkeep was willing to give me for almost nothing because no one in the town wanted to buy it. I got three shirts that actually fit me, as well as two pairs of pants. I also traded in my snowbold boots and gloves. He didn’t have any magic pouches or bags, so I settled on some larger non-magical storage options. I also picked up a shirt of iron chainmail. Not the best quality stuff, but at least it provide a modicum of protection. Then I got a few lengths of rope, some leather straps, and a big bag of dried meat. I didn’t ask what kind, and he didn’t offer it up. I used up the last bit of credit I had to buy a map. It was a rather general map, but it showed quite a bit of Mahrduhm, and I felt that was a pretty good thing for me to have. Gathering intelligence on the enemy.
Walking out the store into the sunshine, and I felt good about the world. About myself. I felt more human, despite not being human, because now I had a full set of normal looking clothing. No longer would people see me and think I was some furry mountain creature. Plus, if my bounty had made it out this far, no one would be looking for lil’ ol me. They’d still be looking for the big dude in the white fur.
CcaerLlion Pritchard was leaning against a column of the tavern on the other side of the road, chewing on a stick. He noticed me walking down
the street, and gave me a wave.
“You sold your pants,” he said. “Surprising.”
“Needed other things more.”
He walked over to me, and looked at the sword, the bags, and shook his head.
“Tell me you got a full coin purse,” he said.
“Spent most of my coin,” I said. “Where I’m going, there’s not much use for coin, to be honest.”
“That bastard in there give you a copper less than a hundred gold for those pants, and I’ll—“
“He gave me eighteen gold. In store credit.”
“Son,” he said, his face hardening, “there’s little I hate more than a cheat.”
He grabbed the front of my shirt and pulled me along with him. Which must have been a bit amusing to those on the outside, watching the older man towing the relative giant through the streets. CcaerLlion marched right through the door and presented me to the shopkeep.
“Help you, Lord Pritchard?” the shopkeep asked, barely looking up from his pamphlet.
“What’s your game here, Ynyr Pennoyer?” CcaerLlion barked.
Ynyr, the shopkeep, looked up languidly. He glanced over at me, then over at the lord.
“There a problem?”
“You cheated this young man.”
“I made a square deal with him.”
“Eighteen gold for a pair of snowbold pants? You know that is not a fair deal.”
“Maybe. But he did not.”
“And I do not. I do not abide cheaters in this town.”
“Not a cheater, my lord, and I do not appreciate your tone here.”
“It is not a tone. My town will be an honest one.”
“Then it will be a poor one.”
“You operate at my pleasure. Or did you forget to read the contract you signed with me?”
Ynyr stood all the way up and crossed his arms, his face impassive.
“I read the contract,” Ynyr said. “And I know every word of it.”
“So you know what rights I have.”
“All of ‘em.”
“And you agreed to abide by being an honest merchant.”
“Not my fault he does not know the value of his goods.”
“Might try telling him.”
“Against the code of being a merchant.”
“Against the code of being a liar.”
“It was a fair deal,” Ynyr barked out.
“Nothing fair about it,” CcaerLlion yelled in return.
“You keep yellin’ at me, and maybe I write a letter to my cousin, tell him there are opportunities in this town out west.”
“Is that a threat? Are you—“
“It is no threat. Just thinking about inviting my family out here. You likely heard of Maddog Callwallandar? Sure a man like Maddog’d be jumping for joy at finding a new place to hang his axe.”
“Perhaps will mention to my dear friend the Dark Queen that I feel this part of the land needs her attention on it. Maybe see if the army, perhaps, needs a new quartermaster.”
At the mention of the queen, Ynyr’s face went a bit pale. He took an involuntary step back.
“We both have friends we can pull into this town, but I feel it might be better we leave them be, eh?”
“Might be a truth to that,” Ynyr admitted.
“Then maybe you ought make this deal right with this man here.”
“I do not have that much coin on me. Maybe you have not noticed, but trade is not exactly booming in your town, my lord.”
“I know you got a few bits of magic stuffed back there. Offer one of those.”
Ynyr forced a smile on his face and nodded. “I suppose I might could do that.”
He stood there a second longer, as if somehow the situation might change and he wouldn’t have to do what the lord just ordered him to. But, obviously, nothing changed. So the shopkeeper turned around and slowly walked to the rear of the store. He bent down, and pulled a key off a loop around his neck. He unlocked a safe in the floor, and pulled a small chest out, about the size of a large shoebox, and brought it over to the counter. When he set it down, there was an audible thump to it.
Slowly, almost painfully so, he put the first key back on his neck loop, and took a second key out of a pouch. He put the key in the lock on the chest, and waited another moment.
CcaerLlion gave a nod, and Ynyr sighed loudly as he turned the key and the chest popped open.
It wasn’t an overly large chest, so there weren’t a ton of items inside. A few rings, a small book, and a double-bladed bearded hatchet.
“Magical items,” Ynyr said, gesturing to the open chest. “Does anything excite sir’s interest?”
“No need for that,” CcaerLlion said.
“There is zero reason for me to be polite when I am being taken advantage of—“
“You are not—“
I reached into the chest, and grabbed the axe.
“What’s this?” I asked.
“Tell him truthful,” CcaerLlion.
“A Braddus Bearded Axe,” Ynyr said. “A throwing axe which returns to the thrower. As such.”
He snatched the axe from my hand, then threw it out through the door into the street. It landed in the dirt with a puff of dust. Then, almost lazily, Ynyr extended his hand out and spread his fingers wide. The axe zipped back to his hand, smacking into his palm with a thwock. He put the axe back in his chest.
“Rings of healing, a basic book of spells. What would you like to take from me in order for the lord here to feel like things are fair?” Ynyr asked, glaring daggers at CcaerLlion.
Up until that statement, I’d been willing to just let things go. I was about to tell Lord Prichard that I didn’t feel shortchanged. Frankly, I’d wanted to get back on the road, or flightpath, as it were. Though flightpath doesn’t have the sort of ring to it. But considering Ynyr just kept digging himself deeper into the being-an-asshole hole, I figured I might as well get something out of the deal.
“Seems like I could use a throwing axe,” I said, reaching into the chest and grabbing the axe.
Ynyr transferred his glare over to me.
“And who might this newcomer to our town be?” Ynyr asked.
“Montana,” I said. “Just an explorer.”
“Oh? Staying in the Inn?”
“Camping outside the walls?” CcaerLlion offered.
“Ah,” Ynyr said, a predatory grin spreading. “Then take the axe. And leave my store.”
I slid the axe into my belt, and gave a smile to both men.
“A fantastic day to you both,” I said, and took off at a jaunty pace.
And it was a fantastic day. A little odd, sure, but the weather was unreal. Just the most beautiful sunshine.
I strolled out through the gate, steeping around the still-snoozing guard.
Fritz wasn’t awake yet. The egg was still, you know, being an egg, and I had a new magical weapon. I did a little work with rope and leather, and I had a rudimentary saddle made. When Fritz woke up, we tried it out, and didn’t seem to bother the big guy much.
He leapt into the sky, beat me about the head with his damn wings, which I’m now sure he was doing on purpose, and then we were off. Looking down, I saw a group of armed men heading from the city in the general direction of where Fritz had been snoozing. Most likely the asshole shopkeeper’s friends looking to get back a certain axe from me. Oh well.
We were busy flying off into the sunset.
Chapter Twelve
Technically it wasn’t late enough to fly off into the sunset. But that sounded a lot more romantic, didn’t it?
Instead, we flew off into the western sky. Where it was looking a bit stormy. Clouds hung on the mountains, and it seemed like they were just about to rain hell down on anyone stupid enough to get close to them. So, because Fritz was navigating during this part of the journey, he turned to the north, heading deeper into hill country. Which was pretty much okay by me, since it was right into the sunshine. Glorious fall sunshine. The kind
where it’s deliciously warm and you just can’t get enough of it. I laid down on Fritz the frog, the egg tied tight to my back, and closed my eyes.
Maybe I even fell asleep. Don’t tell Fritz. But, yeah, I did. I didn’t wake up until a solid thump told me we were, once again, on the ground. At a small pond in the midst of an otherwise flat field of grass. Wild though, not like a farm or anything. The lone tree above said pond was a towering oak with branches that soared out over the water. The thing had to be a hundred feet high, and two hundred feet wide. Maybe more. It was an old bastard, and I was surprised to see it considering where we were.
It took a minute to get Fritz free from his harness, especially since he was straining to get at the water. Once the last knot was untied, he almost flew into the water, taking in massive gulps. I was actually a little worried he was going to drain the pond. But it must’ve been deeper than I thought, because Fritz dove down and disappeared beneath the surface.
I didn’t feel like trying to fish in what was basically Fritz’s bath water, so after a quick check on the egg — still an egg — I got out a dinner of dried rations from the shopkeep. I gave them a once-over, trying to detect poison with my nose. Or eyes. Both. But it just seemed like meat. And when I’d purchased the meat, the shopkeep had just thought I was a gullible rube.
Spoiler alert, it was not poisoned. It wasn’t particularly tasty either, but it didn’t kill me. I leaned back against the massive tree trunk, and watched Fritz waddle out of the water, shake, and then he plopped down on the ground. We’d made camp.
When Fritz started snoring, I knew it was time to take a little walk around.
I stayed out of the tree to start, going around its massive trunk and looking out at the horizon. The mountains looked like thorns poking the sky to the south, and I could see brilliant flashes of lightning hitting the ground. It was quite the show, but I hoped the storm wasn’t going to keep heading in my direction.