Book 3. Chapter 44

Book 3. Chapter 44

It wasn’t quite the same caravan that set off from Oud’s Bog. For one thing, many of the merchants had stayed in the city and just as many more had joined up again, so there were a lot of new faces.

The landscape was an even larger change. The deep, dark forests of the Boglands were far behind and the world ahead of them looked to be made of nothing but rolling prairies interspersed with cultivated fields. The lack of ominous forest made the tone of the journey feel completely different than it had before. The world felt safer, more domesticated, and people acted as if the danger they’d faced in the Boglands was going to stay there.

The biggest new adjustment was by far the children. Three of the new wagons were families with children, and there were a few that had been left behind before. Apparently the [Dancer] had a ten-year-old son that she’d left behind in Oud’s Bog during their circuit through the Boglands, and the [Camp Chef] now had three grandchildren who’d be traveling with them.

They mostly stayed on the wagons as they moved, but seeing them tear around the camp during lunchtime, laughing and shrieking, was something that would take some getting used to.

“They’re just kids, Brin. They aren’t going to bite you,” Zilly said, sitting next to him with a bowl of stew. During the evenings the campsite would be set up with tables and collapsible benches, but since this was just lunch he, Davi, Myra, and Sion had made do with a spot of soft grass.

Brin realized that he’d been glaring at the new children and schooled his face. “I don’t mind kids. I’m just surprised, I guess. After all the trouble we ran into on the way to Oud’s Bog, I didn’t think anyone would trust their kids out here.”

Sion took a bite of stew, then winced at the heat and put it back down, blowing on it. “You cannot leave your family behind all the time. Most of these caravans are more like traveling villages than adult workplaces. I think the only reason we were so lonely in the last leg was because of a..."

Myra started making the "cut" motion across her neck at Sion, and he stared at her confused before finishing. "...a [Weaver’s] predictions.”

Myra winced, and Brin laughed. "It's fine. I don't hate every [Weaver]. You guys can go have your future told all you want; I honestly don't care."

“In that case, there’s a high-level [Weaver] in Oud’s Bog. She predicted the danger from the last circuit, but now she says the journey from here to Blackcliff will be safe,” Myra said.

“Really?” Brin asked. It was hard to believe anything was safe when a [Witch]-turned-monster mother was in your dreams.

“Yeah. She’s higher level than my mom. I don’t even know if she has time for actual weaving anymore because loads and loads of people go to her before they set off on long journeys or make big decisions,” said Myra.

“Did you?” Brin asked.

Myra took a huge bite of stew, and then pointed at her mouth apologetically. Then she looked away. She kept chewing until the stew was long gone and Brin became aware that she was going to avoid the question.

"So how are you going to stay busy now that you won't be fighting monsters every day?" asked Zilly. "I'm sure you and Davi already cooked up some kind of insane training regimen."

"I honestly hadn't thought about it. I miss our weight set, but it was too heavy for the wagons. I guess I assumed we'd keep hunting monsters," said Brin

Zilly shook her head. "There won't be very many around, not until we get closer to Blackcliff. We're on a main highway now."

"Well, I thought of something," said Davi.

Davi decided to show them his great idea rather than simply tell them, so after they finished lunch, they followed him to one of the rear wagons where he unhitched the ox that had been pulling it and yoked himself in its place.

"You're kidding," said Brin.

"Nope," said Davi. "I can pull it. Just watch."

Myra told him he was insane, and Zilly just laughed while Sion just looked afraid that someone would ask him to do the same.

A whistle came from the front of the caravan, signaling the start. Davi grit his teeth, took one firm step forward, and then another. "See?" he huffed. "I... told you."

Brin would've guessed that Davi would run out of steam immediately, but the big guy kept pushing onwards, and carried the wagon the entire four hours until Zerif called for a stop.

It probably was pretty good training, but it also looked kind of embarrassing and Brin had no desire to mimic that.

At least until at the end of the day a weary Davi set down his burden, only for his tired frown to transform into an excited grin.

"Isn't it great?" Davi called back with false cheer.

The minutes crawled by slowly, making Brin feel each and every one of them with his entire body. At one point the [Dancer's] two children came by and climbed up on his wagon, laughing and cheering as he pulled their slight added weight. When one of them threw a pebble at him, their mother scolded them and dragged them back forward to their own wagon.

More than a few times, Brin stepped into a kukubaru snack from one of the beasts of burden in front of them. "Why are we so far back?" Brin yelled at Davi.

"Zerif said we had to! Otherwise we'd stop the whole caravan if we slipped."

When three hours had gone by and there was still an hour left, Brin was certain he wouldn't be able to take another step. He knew he wouldn't make it the full time, so he focused on just getting a little further. Just a few more steps before he collapsed. He would get to that rock, no that tree, no that patch of grass, and then he would stop.

Before he knew it, he heard a whistle. He was so exhausted that it didn't register immediately what it was for so he kept plodding along. Just a few more steps. Davi's wagon stopped in front of him, forcing him to stop as well. What was Davi doing? Now that they'd stopped, he didn't think he'd be able to start again. Oh. The whistle. They were done for the day.

Brin numbly tried to pull the harness off himself. It took three tries. Then he stumbled to the side, and collapsed into the tall yellow grass on the side of the road.

Through training you have received the following attribute: Vitality +2

Two in one day was good, though he still wasn't sure it was worth it. He never got two points for training in one day any more. That might be [Athletic Training] coming in; he'd have to compare it to what Davi had earned. The System wasn't done.

Congratulations! Your Achievement has evolved. Workhorse (Rare) now gives +10 Vitality. You work like a horse. Literally.

Brin couldn't help but smile at that. Ok, maybe this had been worth doing after all. He hadn't even known [Workhorse] could still evolve. He'd thought that it had been finished when he'd hit System Day.

That night, he went to sleep without any of his protections, but he still didn't have nightmares. He didn't remember any dreams when he woke up, and after he reviewed the night through [Memories in Glass], he didn't find anything strange. He'd had vague impressions of his dinner with the Baron, a short, mildly uncomfortable memory of Bowers' death, and a few random thoughts and images. Normal dreams, as far as he could tell, but he still couldn't quite tell the difference between the dreams Aberfa sent and his natural imagination. [Know What's Real] just told him they were dreams, it didn't tell him the source.

The next day he was as sore as he'd ever been in this world, and flatly refused to try to pull a wagon again. Davi was glad to join him in taking a break after he promised he'd try again tomorrow, but Zilly insisted on trying. She didn't make it five minutes, though; she just didn't have the raw attributes for it. Davi and Brin compromised by going on a long run with her after they stopped for the night, and they dragged Sion along to practice the new Running Skill he’d taken.

When Brin went to sleep the third night, again deliberately without his protections, Aberfa was there.

They were back in the stone room with all the pillows he'd dreamt of before, and she knelt in front of him, smiling as if nothing were wrong at all in the world.

"I'm surprised I didn't see you yesterday."

"I wanted to come, but I can't have you taking this for granted. I put in a lot of work to see you again, you know. I think granting the barest level of respect is the least you could do."

Brin felt a white-hot flash of fury, but bit back his reflective response. Trying to keep his voice measured, he said, "It's hard for me to pretend everything is ok, after what you've done."

"No!" Aberfa said in dismay. "I will never ask you to deny your emotions! If you hate me, then hate me passionately. No, let's start smaller. I am not Aberfa to you. Call me mother, or ma'am, or mistress. Can you do that much? Give me that small honor and I'll do whatever you wish."

Brin had a thousand things he wanted to call her that weren't those three words. His anger was a lot harder to tamp down in this place. Had she eroded his natural inhibitions, or was this anger something she was planting in him? It felt like his, but he couldn't be certain of anything in here.

One thing was true; he was curious about what she could teach him. "Yes ma'am."

"Excellent!" She clapped her hands in delight. "Now, what-- oh, no I just remembered one other thing. You won't be marrying that Iola girl. I won't mind you taking lovers here and there, but she's no good for you. You need a firm hand to keep you in rein, not some air-headed musical ninny."

"I never planned on marrying her," said Brin. "But that's not because you told me not to."

"Oh, so you saw reason without me having to say anything? Not to worry, I'm not so unfair as to be disappointed by that. Now that that's taken care of, we can begin. What would you like to learn?"

"Let's start with [Know What's Wyrd]. What can you teach me about that?"