Hiding places there are innumerable, escape is only one.

Pre-Fall writer

“Coby Hopkins, right? And Lucas…” Johanna asked.

“Farnsworth. And I remember, you’re one of those scavengers from Valetta… Something Milton…” the other man said.

“Yes. What you’re doing here?” she said back.

“Could ask the same. But I’m guessing you did just like us. You took a runner.”

“You vanished after the fight in the Narrows, right?” she asked.

Johanna remembered that old fight. Adjutant Agnello had complained afterward about losing over twenty levies who went missing. He had said at the time that any who did that were playing with their lives, but obviously, the two former scavengers from Lakeview had made it.

“We saw you fighting that monstrosity, I think. With a fire pike or something. It was the best occasion we’d ever get. Any other time, the soldiers were on watch. We slipped into the forest south, doubled back, then followed a couple of days later. You?”

She shrugged.

“We got to New Benton. We were trained there. Then we were sent to the front, and after the first battle… well, yes, we slipped away.”

“Good for you. Maybe it’s your State, but it wasn’t mine anyway. We fucked up getting registered residence, even if it was better for taxation. Death and taxes may be both guaranteed, but I’ll take my chances with the latter,” Coby Hopkins said.

“Get on,” the other scavenger said, pointing to the back of the carriage. “There’s enough room there.”

“Thanks.”

“Yea, you look really bad. Rough travels, I guess.”

“It’s been… risky,” Peter said.

“We’ll be at White Meadow before noon. That’s the main city. A bit bigger than Lakeview, not as big as Valetta,” Lucas Farnsworth announced.

“Do they have a good inn, that’s all we ask,” Laura said.

“A single one, but it’s a big one. Almost empty at this time of the year, apparently.”

“Empty?” Johanna asked.

“Yea. That’s why we’re still there. We snuck into New Benton, but couldn’t find a passage to Yellowstone, so we hired ourselves as temp guards for a caravan going east. But the commercial traffic dies in late fall, and there’s nobody going to the Dakota or Custer State. Not until spring. So… we’ve found a job doing local transportation. Doesn’t pay much, but we can stretch our money that way. We’ll go into Custer, then back home in Yellowstone. Got relatives that will be happy to hide me. Lucas got family not too far away.”

“We’ll probably have to figure out something ourselves then.”

“Yea. Ask at the inn. The innkeeper knows everyone, he can help you find something. And he’ll give you a great discount rate if you stay months… if you pay in advance, that is.”

“Us deserters have to stick for each other,” the other scavenger added.

“Does anyone know about you…”

“I doubt they care. It’s the frontier, that Warden’s authority is limited here anyway. The local ruler, Countess Rocastle, she’s a good one, or so they say. Took over when her husband died or something. When they got asked for levies, she put out a bonus for volunteers, and then completed their quota with a bunch of drunkards and local louts, or so I gathered. Apparently, everyone was happy to see those gone.”

Johanna refrained a smile. The contrast with Valetta was striking.

The palisades of White Meadow were very similar to the ones that surrounded Valetta, although Johanna could tell the enclosed area was much smaller. The single-manned gate was about as large, but carriages and caravans dictated those.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

The two scavengers pointed out the Inn, which was close to the entrance. The four jumped down from the carriage, and their fellow “scavengers” waved as they moved on toward their cargo’s destination.

“Looks good,” Tom commented.

Once inside, the inn looked more like an upscale version of their old usual inn at Valetta. It did have a significantly larger common room, and the usual keys board listed over sixteen rooms. Only four had keys out, though, as the two scavengers had warned them.

“Hello,” Johanna said to the innkeeper behind the counter.

“Rough trip?” the man asked.

“Relatively speaking, yes. I heard the roads toward Dakota were closed?”

“The weather’s not that bad yet, but you won’t find anyone going there till April. The east road got snowed a bit last week, and I don’t know how it is going further east,” the innkeeper confirmed.

“Okay, need to discuss with the rest then.”

They took a table with a local beer order. After three weeks in the wilds, a decent drink was welcome, magical Thirst effects or not.

“So. What do we do?” she asked.

“We can try to push forward. We can deal with beasts… but I’m more worried about the weather,” Laura said.

Peter pulled out the map.

“Looks like three days’ trip to the frontier line, but the next real town over is more like ten days. In good weather,” he estimated.

“If the snows are anything like we get in the west, it could be worse,” Laura noted.

“And we don’t have real winter gear. Need to fix that first,” Johanna said.

“Fixing clothing, getting real backpacks… tents?” Tom checked.

Johanna went back to the innkeeper, asking about stores. There were stores for that type of winter gear, although he had no idea of how much stock they would have.

“Packs, probably some. There’s always someone breaking stuff. Tents, I doubt you’ll find any.”

“Thanks,” she said, before coming back.

“So, we agree?” she asked.

“We don’t stay in the Montana any longer than we need to,” Peter confirmed, and all others nodded in agreement.

“We shop, and unless there’s a blizzard, we push on.”

The innkeeper seemed a bit peeved that they were not taking rooms for an entire month. After a quick negotiation, she negotiated a slowly diminishing price if they had to stay for longer than a week before they took their keys and moved upstairs.

There were showers in each room.

And Johanna and Tom still managed to delay the shower until later.

Laura and Peter were already waiting for them in the common room once they finally went down. A bit cleaner, but although Peter’s outfit was still relatively intact, compared to Johanna and Tom’s, it was still sporting those partial repairs.

“Clothes first?” Johanna asked.

“Undoubtedly.”

The town was a lot smaller than Valetta, and its commercial district was in proportion. A dozen of stores surrounded a marketplace, which was obviously going on only in the mornings.

There was a single clothing store, in which they piled in. While the storekeeper’s wife was trying to find something to fit Tom without too much in the way of touches, Johanna discussed salvage with the owner.

“That’s what you used to fix that coat?”

“We’re salvagers. So, we had some old stuff, but that’s unusable. We still have some goodies that we haven’t sold, though. Boxes, glasses, various small tools.”

“Well, you won’t find much in the way of buyers around. You’d have better luck going to New Benton and selling there.”

Johanna kept her face straight at the suggestion. If there was one place they were definitively not going to, it was the capital of the Montana.

In the end, they did not need to get a full fitting from the store. Tom managed to get a thick winter jacket and trousers set that needed only basic alterations – “you got almost the size of the Carl brothers” – and the clothier’s wife could fix Johanna’s coat with a minimum of work. Peter’s outfit had only gotten minimal damage, and the storekeeper got to work as a tailor while his wife was still trying to sell a completely new jacket to Johanna.

Not that she was going to spend money on such. The 50-dollar silvers in her bag were only going to stretch that far.

They rushed to the tavern next door, as fitting Tom’s clothes and fixing Johanna’s coat was going to take an additional two hours. Johanna’s light undercoat vest was only small protection against the early December temperatures, even at noon.

As they moved out after a small, but much-welcome lunch, she spotted a good swirl of manalight coming from north of the town. Apparently, there was some kind of large artifact out there. Probably owned by that local countess.

All in all, it took them most of the afternoon to check on everything. The general store had backpacks for sale, but only three were large enough. The rest were smaller packs that were okay for local trips, but not for longer ones. They still purchased everything they could – Peter would have to deal with the old bags.

“Okay, food will be doable. That tavern can cook on order a trail mix once we decide on when we leave,” Johanna noted.

“I think we’ve done all we can today,” Peter said.

“We need to find more about the roads and a better map. The longer we stay, the worse the weather.”

“For myself, I’m looking forward to a real bed tonight,” Laura said.

“So do I”, Johanna replied.

As Johanna made her way down the stairs to see what the inn had for dinner, she noticed the well-dressed woman, with a pair huge man next to her. This immediately brought back the old memories of the caravan master in Valetta. The two men screamed guards to her. A quick peek at the board showed no new key gone, so she assumed she was a previous guest, some kind of merchant staying over for the winter.

But as they made their way to a table, she spotted the innkeeper pointing out them. The woman put back her mug, stood up, and started toward them.

“Hello.”

“Uh, hello,” Johanna answered tentatively.

“I wanted to meet you. And invite you.”

She looked them over.

“Done shopping, I hear. Good thing. Although, young man… you might definitively change clothes.”

“Uh?” Peter said.

“Old military surplus isn’t rare, but most veterans are in their thirties at best. Someone as young as you…”

Seeing the incredulous look, she went on.

“I am Lady Catherine, Countess Rocastle, by the way.”

She took stock of the four.

“And you must be Peter Donnall and you Tom Milton. Although I can only guess… you’re probably Laura Donnall then, and so, you must be Johanna Milton,” she finished, looking at Johanna.