Dim Prisons and Drakes, chapter 49. (Patreon)

So here we are. Expect one more little piece this month, but for now, please enjoy.

"Seventy bottles of beer on the wall, seventy bottles of beer...."

Of all the things to sing, that little ditty was not the play. Matt just grinned at me and sang louder.

It was a nice and bright sunny day, in almost complete contradiction to how things should be. We hadn't encountered any corpses, walking or otherwise, since the last village. That had everyone feeling better about our chances and things in general.

Sunlight really was necessary for happiness. I should write that down, it could become one of those old man adages that people used as sage wisdom instead of something actually profound.

Heh. All I needed was a flowing, snowy beard.

"Sixty-nine bottles of beer on the wall, sisxty-nine bottles of beer...."

I'd long since tuned it out, but when Randolf joined in, pitching his voice about five keys off, Karl had clearly had enough: "Shut up already."

They shut it, grinning even more; it was almost enough that their teeth could fall out of their head.

There were fields to the left of us, and fields to the right of us, gently rolling or flat plains that were no longer filled with crops of any kind. Nowhere for any ambushers to hide, no cover at all.

We were safe; as safe as we could be in this brave new world we found ourselves in. This was pretty much a nature hike, with us soaking up the sun without fear.

Sure, that sun was now setting, but the next village was in Poe's sight; we had an hour or so to get there and nothing in the way. If there was anything to worry about, it was the fact that we hadn't seen a single person on the road. Not a messenger, not a farmer, not a warrior. Nothing at all.

We had even broken our normal line, just a bit. Ethan and Les were both slightly out; Les appeared to be looking for flowers of all things, while Ethan was simply sinking his feet into the soft earth to the side of the road. Seriously, his boots were off! He was going to get tetanus that way, but I wasn't going to say anything until he actually got cut.

Poe noticed some men coming from the village; heading down the road our way. Six men, heavily armed but lightly armored. Four of them had longbows, which made them a threat to us if they decided to be, especially in this terrain.

It was too much to think that they wouldn't be coming for us or because of us.

"Karl. Got movement from the village ahead. It doesn't look too friendly."

"Right. How far out?"

Hard to say. "Half an hour? Maybe a bit longer? They are taking their time."

Conserving their energy. Or staying close to potential support, either one really.

One of those guys, those bowmen, was watching Poe. I didn't like that look, so it was time to pull my familiar out of there.

Still, there weren't any elves in the group, so how did they know we were here? There had to be some way. I didn't see a watch tower, and we hadn't triggered a trap.

Nothing to be done for it but to keep walking. After all, it was the King's road, and everyone was allowed on it.

We saw each other at the same time, it seemed, thirty minutes later, and a good twenty minutes walk from the village. Or maybe a seven minute run. Which was odd. My eyes should be much better than theirs, but all I saw were strung bows and ready shields.

Luckily, they weren't the big ones, so our own archers could strike back if they tried something. They just kept walking, however. As if they weren't there for us.

They stopped ten paces from us: "Good afternoon."

Karl stopped a moment later: "Good afternoon. What brings you out here?"

One of the archers elbowed his fellow and pointed at Poe, now perched on my shoulder. I could hear the whispered "told you."

At least he hadn't tried to shoot him.

His own boss and leader ignored the man, just like Karl ignored us when we were undermining him with random crap. It was kind of nice to see that it wasn't just us.

"Checking a few things. What brings you out this way?" Karl's counterpart asked, in one of the most obvious attempts at digging into our intentions I'd ever seen.

"Just passing through. What brings you out this way? There is a bit of danger back the way we came. The dead were pretty restless last night."

"So we heard. We didn't see any trouble last night, of any kind." Left unspoken was the 'and we don't want to'.

"Good news. Did a messenger come through here?"

"Yeah," was the ready reply. "He kept moving, too. Down the road and further east."

Away from his home. Away from the undead. I couldn't say I blamed him, but it would have been nice to have sent word.

"We'd like to pass. And stay the night, if we can."

"Sure," the other man said. "My name is Todd, by the way. This is May, Aaron, Lugo, Darnell, and Ray."

Each man nodded his head as addressed. They didn't quite lower their weapons all the way, though. We didn't even have ours out. Yet.

Why were they all shooting glances at me? Didn't like mages, again? A tiresome reaction, if true. One I was already quite sick of.

They formed around us, and we continued on, as if it were an actual honor guard and not an escort. As if this were a simple Sunday stroll.

We could kill them all of course, but they seemed not to know that. I wouldn't even be needed; I'd just duck and let the warriors swing for the fences. Karl only needed to give the signal - but we didn't want any trouble.

Poe's head was on a swivel, but I kept him on my shoulder. I didn't need him to be the cause of anything.

The village ahead was named Herring. Which, wasn't another village we'd gone to named Herring? It also looked like, from this angle, that Herring was getting an upgrade.

Workers with bare chests glistening in the fading sun were busy cutting and driving heavy logs into a palisade, one tree at a time. The wood they were getting it from must be on the other side.

There wasn't much up yet, but a few days, and they'd have it.

"Good fences make good neighbors," Todd muttered at us, as if that explained everything. I guess it did.

I liked the idea of walls myself, but this one already felt a little more permanent to me. As if the people here wanted to wall themselves away from everyone, not just threats. Or everything was a threat.

It really felt like stepping past the sign was stepping into another world.

All eyes were upon us, and all work stopped.

"Had a problem with people in the past?"

Everyone started at my words. As if I wasn't supposed to make noise.

Todd answered. "Of a sort. Nothing overt, but people have been trying to take advantage of us for awhile. Well, people of a few different sorts."

There it was, a bit of casual racism. Just a hint. The eyes on me made more sense now; I'd bet money my ears were more common here.

Might be worth a slight side trip if so, they might know more than we did. Elves historically knew more about magic than humans, according to all fantasy lore. No reason to think that wouldn't apply here.

Somehow, I was betting they weren't getting along, though. The others seemed to have reached the same conclusion; they were crowding in, just a little bit. Closing ranks around me.

"You can stay in the green, so long as you cause no trouble. I'm sorry, but we don't have any beds to spare."

Looking around, it was easy to see why; the place looked to be built for at most a thousand people, and there seemed to be more than that. People were just hanging out on the roadside, walking around listlessly, and more than a few were staring and just not seeing us.

The undead might not have made it here, but it was pretty clear something had happened. Judging by the amount of farm carts, it looked like all the farmers had taken refuge here.

We'd seen no sign of orcs, either.

"The green will be fine," Karl replied, already searching for a spot to set up camp in the crowded field.

There wasn't a whole lot of space left free, what with all the other people and tents around. Only the well was truly clear, for obvious reasons.

"Well, I'll leave you to it. If you need anything, come find me or just ask around for Todd."

The man left without another word, heading to the largest house visible here. If he was the mayor, though, I'd eat my hat. Well, his hat, since I didn't have one of my own.

No, it was clear we were on our own here; one only needed to look at the faces around us... most of which had locked onto me with some frightening intensity.

"Come on," Karl said. "Let's find a better spot."

I knew what he meant; here, the word better meant more defensible. This crowd had every chance of turning ugly, quickly. Todd hadn't mentioned this on purpose. I was never more sure of anything in my life.

The others, clearly guards that had positions around the edge of the crowd, were also watching us intently. No doubt they couldn't wait to fill the entire area with arrows. They even had arrows nocked.

"Phil?" Karl asked.

"Yeah?" Phil was wary. That was a good sign.

"Don't do what you normally do here."

"Got it boss," Phil replied. The relief was clear; had he actually thought that Karl would tell him to wander around, here? Weird, that he would think that.

The corner Karl was leading us to was not empty. The family there was large, wore homespun shirts, pants, and dresses, complete with knit caps. All the clothes sported some dirt, and all the people were huddled around a small cart that had some vegetables and other belongings thrown inside. There was a large sheet set between the edge of the cart and the ground, staked to the earth with what I could only call large nails. Even greased as it was, it wasn't an actual tarp or tent, and there wasn't enough room for five people huddled together, who were now giving us a wary eye as we walked up.

Karl stopped, a good twenty paces away, letting the others who hadn't caught our interest scramble away from what they thought was going to be a confrontation.

"Good afternoon," Karl started. He even smiled.

Those people didn't know what to make of it. The old man, his wrinkled face sun-burned and listless brown hair beginning to turn white, clutched the small but very sharp looking knife behind him with knuckles that I could hear creak, and waited a full heart's beat before answering.

When he did, his voice was younger than he looked; had I misjudged? "Good afternoon. What do you want?"

Karl went right to the flattery: "Right to the point; I can respect that. AS you can see, my party and I are a bit large, and the amount of space farther in is small. I'd like us to set up here, if we may? We don't intend to kick you out of the real estate, but if you could move over just a little bit, then the rest of us could set up our tents and maybe share a few things. Like some tent space... or a fire."

There had not been any scorch marks or fire pits that I'd seen, but the nights were getting cold, so green or not, I expected some tonight. Either way, there was more than one way to skin that cat.

Skinning cats... what an unsavory saying. Maybe I should change it: petting cats? feeding cats? Whatever, I could work on it.

The oldest woman, who looked like she might be anywhere from a few years older than me to thirty years older than me, was shooting us hopeful looks already. She tossed her long black hair, which appeared to be freshly washed somehow, and gave the old guy a quick and piercing stare.

The other three were all clearly younger, if no less sun burned or filthy than the old guy. At least they still had their looks; their genetics beside them made it clear that time won't be so kind later.

I did have an extra tarp, and it was clear they needed one. They could have it for the night, of course, but something so expensive they'd need to pay to keep.

Still, the two boys and single girl, looking at us with tired and yet hopeful faces, fiddling nervously with their patched clothes, tugged at me a bit. So maybe I wouldn't take full price for it. They didn't look like they had full price anyway - or even half price for that matter.

"Um, sure, we can move," the farmer said. He didn't sound very certain or brave, but he didn't hesitate as much as his speech did; he was already pulling the stakes or nails up. Whatever they were.

Karl looked to me. I judged the space and delivered my verdict: "Some four feet to your right, please?" That would allow us enough space to pitch our tents there, next to that other group, and put our backs to that house there, which would limit any attacks. Right now, I was all about limiting attacks, and I had a plan for it. A simple yet ingenious master plan.

"Looks good," Karl said, his chipper voice betrayed by his hard eyes as he looked over the other group. A much less friendly looking bunch who were openly clutching things like hoes, pitchforks, and scythes... things that could be either tools or weapons.

We'd be within ten paces of those, with our tents.

The farmer threw his foul-smelling sheet in the cart without a single care and stepped up to the handles. "So just back up, right?"

"Right," Karl answered. I stayed silent since people did not seem to like the sound of my voice. We were giving these people the inside track as much as possible, while not putting them directly in front of us.

I'd put my tent near them, of course, as it would be just a bit safer; right about there should do it. I stepped over and traced the spot with a foot. Karl and Matt both nodded. Heck, even Randolf nodded, as if he were somehow in charge.

Whatever. flipping my pack to my front and breaking out my tent was easy enough. Matt stepped close, tracing out a spot for his. Which happened to be right next to mine. Ethan took the spot to my other side, rolling out his sleeping bag; he had a tent of his own, but it didn't look like he wanted to set it up.

I felt like I should tell him. Maybe a bit later.

As expected, the dwarf immediately just flopped on the thing, already rooting in his backpack for something that would undoubtedly prove alcoholic.

Randolf had my back with his, quite literally.

Phil and Thom took the wings, and Karl took his spot in front of the family itself. Which left just enough for a fire pit and a small communal area for our little camp.

We wouldn't need stones for it, or to even worry about the grass. I was going to have warmth tonight, and send a message at the same time.

I sketched the circle out just to make sure other people knew I was going to be doing something there, then went back to setting up my tent. It didn't look like anything would be happening during the day.

My tent was erected more or less right in front of the circle, but the way I'd set it, there should be enough for everyone close to us at least. I wanted food, so I got right to it.

The fire elemental was not among the greater ones I could summon, but it would last far longer than those and looked intimidating to the uninitiated. It could cause real damage if we were attacked, and could be on the lookout for those attacks, at least the more obvious ones. However, the most important thing is, the single stick of fallen oak I was using would last as fuel for it the entire time, and we could use it to cook something yummy with ease.

I could even keep its temperature constant.

The little flame was facing me, judging from its happy looking smile and coal-black eyes.

"Ah, so that's what your plan was," Matt said. He was still working on his tent.

"Yeah, and I can make it bigger too. I'll do that tonight. For now, we can use it for tea and food." I really didn't want to make stew, but that is what we had ingredients for, and if you're serving a lot of people, it was hard to go wrong with a good stew.

I started pulling my mess kit out, looking for the stew pot. A shift behind me clued me in to the fact that I had an audience: the children were watching. All three had wide eyes and two were sporting open mouths, watching me pull things from my bag. Or maybe it was the elemental.

I should have expected it, really. Kids loved magic, real or fake, and my stuff was definitely real.

"Excuse me, ma'am?" I passed Matt my spare tarp. It should do unless the rain later tonight was especially heavy. But if he was setting that up, then he couldn't help me here.

"Yes?" The woman answered. I assumed she was the wife here, but I could be wrong.

"Can you do me a favor? I'm going to make a stew for us, but I need some water from the well. Can you go and get it for me?"

"Oh. Oh! That I can, We need some more ourselves anyway." She turned and fished a bucket out of the cart, which was handy. I needed to get myself one, this pot was as big as I had.

Then she turned back with a smile. "My name is Lily."

What could I do but smile back? "I go by Muse. Pleased to meet you."

Lily pointed to her kids in turn. "That is Poly, that is Jervis, and my youngest there is Edmund. My husband is Edward."

I suppose I should name dump her too; "Matt, Karl, Randolf, Phil, Les, and Ethan. Thom is... well, Thomas is missing."

Where had Thom gone?

"Ah, the ranger? He lies behind the tent yonder."

Oh, I'm just blind. Good to know. I needed to get Poe up into the trees without getting him shot.

"Thank you for letting me know," Lily said.

"It's no problem," I replied. "Just saving some time, they would have introduced themselves anyway."

Well, most of them would. Ethan was already snoring.

"Of course. I shall return!"

I signaled to Matt. He was still armed and armored, and he would be a good deterrent should anyone try to give Lily trouble. I did not like the looks she was getting, the further she stepped away from us.

Matt levered himself up, grumbling loudly... which was literally him just saying "grumble grumble grumble" at just under a soft shout. But he went, his hand on his sword as he strode after her.

Karl noticed, and stayed silent. Helping Edward secure the tarp and unload some things from his cart. Tools?

For my part, I decided not to wait for the bucket, as the veggies I did have needed cutting. I had a good knife and could manage that much on my own, and I could just as easily wash them after they were cut as before. My trusty burlap bag might hold just enough for all.

There was no way I wasn't going to wash them, though. I wasn't eating dirty vegetables.

I could use my skillet as a chopping board if I reversed it and just go to town; I didn't need everything to be perfectly square and sized or whatever.

Ain't nobody got time for being precise if I was feeding a dozen people. Heck, I might even have to make two stews.

A footfall clued me in; Phil crouched, reversing another pan and pulling out a knife of his own. "Four hands are better than two for this."

I threw my diced potato in the pot and gave him my best reply: "The more the merrier."

He gave a little chuckle and set to work. His own chopping was swift and sure; as if he'd done all this before. He had, of course, he was a bachelor, so he certainly had cooked for himself. But with the help of the mothers and grannies I'd met along the way, I was now certain I could outshine him in the art of stew. I even had a small spice rack as a secret weapon!

It had been a long, arduous journey, learning to cook, but the results would be worth it at last.

Lily's bucket was slapped down with a thunk, and the woman did a beat after. She produced her own small knife, and started in without a word, even going so far as to pick the first onion from the pile.

Matt, of course, clattered down himself in front of us all... his eyes firmly set back the way he came.