"So we're still heading away from the death knight and whatever they brought with them. This makes me think that there was a gate in Plainsmount. If so, it probably connects a long distance," Zan said, "That would be a wicked spell to put into my spellbook."

"Yeah. I think I'll ask Cara for something like that, though it kinda goes against the travel part," Sonya said.

"Does it though? Travel is movement from place to place. It's not like she is the god of extended metaphors about destinations and movement."

"Do you really think that there is a god of extended metaphors? Not only extended metaphors, but like specific travel-related metaphors?"

"We could go on a quest to determine if they exist?"

"But what if we never arrived at the destination?"

"Then the true gods were the ones we met along the way."

Sonya giggled. They were trying to get a rise out of Bob, but he wasn't feelin it. Zan had swapped in driving for him several times just to keep things fresh, but everyone was running on fumes.

"I sure hope that we finally end up stopping for dinner, and that we can make a damn fire," Bob said from his space behind the drivers seat. He had taken a lounge position, doing his best impression of a hammock.

"Bob, what did we say about playing with fire?" Sonya chided.

"That it's fun?" He said.

"Exactly. In fact, it's too much fun. You would do well to not have so much fun. We need you working."

Sonya had so many questions that she wanted him to answer about his previous life. She'd seen him on television. She hadn't thought it was particularly noteworthy at the time. Stella had also not really told her anything. That she was so close to Bob meant that perhaps Bob and tell her things, but that might had not have been the case.

Perhaps a question or two wouldn't hurt? Sonya focused on the man behind them.

"Bob, you were on a reality TV show?"

Bob made a show of slowly cracking one eye open, looking at her, and then closing his eye. He then took both arms and placed them behind his head.

"I suppose I was," he said.

"I would love to hear about it. I feel like in a few days, maybe weeks we will probably know all of each of the stories. But Bob, I just met you the other day. If it helps, I can talk about my life? Though, I think it might be a little bit boring for you."

She wondered if he was going to take the bait. She thought that he was the kind of guy that wanted to talk by himself. She might have been wrong. She was probably right. It took a certain amount of audacity to open up the bakery in Hoboken, and also probably some nepo baby money. Bob had one or both of those things in spades.

There was a long drawn-out moment before Bob's exhaled bodily and sat up.

"I guess we don't have anything else to do. What do you want to know about it?" He leaned forward.

"Tell me everything. I want to know about the crew, how filming worked, why you did what you did on camera, everything."

"Well some of the things that happened, I'm not too proud of. They came in and filmed for a week. We had the bad luck to be right after the episode with the one bakery that got shut down for health code violations. So many people came in asking if we've been shut down because they confused the two episodes. Honestly, I was just so happy that one of my employees put out a sign explaining the whole debacle that I gave her a raise. Cake and Bake was a whole thing. They were one of the lesser known baking shows so they were really trying to amp up the drama."

"But then you launched that line of designer cakes?" Sonya said.

"There was demand. Especially in October when it's wedding season? All those New York City wedding companies decided they wanted to have one of our featured cakes and we had so many requests for that one pirate ship cake that it got to be a bit overwhelming. Did you know that there was a piece in the New York Post where they counted how many celebrities had a pirate ship wedding cake? Then they calculated that two thirds of the couples broke up after that? Like we were known for this. Have a pirate wedding cake, get divorced in six months or less."

"That's a little bit more than I was expecting. So there was a hit piece on you?"

"It kind of felt like a hit piece, but I understand that they are just trying to sell newspapers. I try not to judge people who are trying to stay afloat in this economy. Or that economy. Did you know that I'm less worried here about anything? I don't have to worry about my employees getting fed or their families or even like the normal upkeep of a business. That was stressful."

"I did not know any of that. It would have been nice to have more money but I did not own a business. I got that salary money and I clocked in and out. It wasn't much but it was enough for me and my golden retriever, Charlie."

"I miss dogs," Zan said.

They all fell silent for a little bit listening to the horses move.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

"Horses aren't bad though. I was never a horse girl," Zan said. "I'm also not sure how horse girls grow up to be horse women or if the two are even related."

"I don't think horse girls grow up to become horse women. It's a special kind of person who dedicates their life to spending thousands of dollars on a free horse," Sonya said.

"It's too bad that these horses aren't more golden retriever like," Bob said. "Though we do owe our lives to them."

Sonya shuddered. She didn't want to think about what life would be without the caravans and the horses. Her short life would have been really bleak. She might have become one of the death knights.

"Guys, do you think that the death knights have free will? Or do you think that they were just carrying out orders?" Sonya said.

Zan's tenuous grip on the reins suddenly became tighter.

"Why would you say such a thing? What's the difference?"

"They have to have enough free will to do the work, right?" Bob said. "They posted up guards. I know because I had to kill them. This whole mindless versus intelligent undead question-are we going to try to reason with them?"

"I don't think that they wanted to reason with us," Sonya said. "I think that they wanted to turn us into death knights."

The air was a lot warmer than the hair on her arms indicated.

"Maybe we should go back to speaking about reality TV," Sonya said.

"That sounds a great idea," Bob said. "This is a depressing world and I wouldn't have wished what you went through on anyone."

----------------------------------------

There was a lot to do when setting up camp at a new way station. First, Finley took the lay of the land, extending his normal circle out a bit further than before. Sophie followed him, setting out an initial batch of tripwires. Their walk turned up a stream that only reached midway to his calves.

Sophie was overjoyed to see that it was clean and clear. Finley called for someone to bring the water barrels. There were more than enough people happy to help when there was the possibility of washing hands. The cleanse card was great, but sometimes humans wanted to scrub their hands a bit more than was necessary.

Once the perimeter was trip wired, the two moved on to check the road. There was no reason to think that undead would stick to roads, even less if they were on the march. Neither one wanted to leave a gap large enough for a bee to pass through.

"Do you think that we need to raise some earth walls?" Finley said.

"It can't hurt. Though Sonya, Zan and I are tired. Maybe a nap or something?"

"Or take it in shifts. Probably in groups of three or more. I don't know how an earth wall would do against an assault by an horde. Or rather, we don't know how a smart horde would do it."

They continued on towards the center of camp. Chef Bob and his sous chef Stella were actively cooking a variety of things that smelled like just the right amount of spice. Finley breathed in strong earthy tones with an undercurrent of salt and pepper. His mouth, betraying him, began to water.

He still had work to do. He told Sophie to take some rest and returned to the caravan. He took his time walking up to inspect every horse. By the second horse he had gotten a few helpers. It got a lot easier then. Everyone was supremely thankful for the majestic beasts and the way that they carried the caravan away from danger. He was just concerned that they were getting enough to eat and drinking and resting.

For the first time in a long time, he considered letting all of them be free. The herd would stay nearby but they all needed to rest. By his count, it had been three days since this band had formed together and he felt like he knew most of them well enough. The horses were generally easy to understand. It was the people that he was still warming up to.

Finley patted last horse before turning back to his caravan. He grabbed the frame from the back of his caravan. The nice smelling bag with all of the cards and pieces was sitting there for him to sift through. He grabbed the small steel crate that housed all of the cards that had not been picked up previously.

His next task would take all of his focus again so he looked around to see if anyone was lurking around trying to get a word in. No one was lingering on the periphery of his work area.

No one was waiting. Several people were talking quietly and a few were still patting the horses and encouraging them to drink water. Four people were clearly on watch duty. One person was passed out drunk. Finley considered how long they had been there and how exactly they might be able to imbibe enough to fully be on their ass. They would have to be dedicated to drinking. Anthony had probably let them have the last watch shift to thank them.

Finley stood up from his frame. He walked over to check if the person-a woman-was on her side. He realized that it was Sonya, and checked her breathing. She was fine, just out of it. There wasn't much to do about it. He grabbed a blanket and put it around her, propping her head on the only pillow that they had, keeping her on her side.

He wondered if this was a common thing for her. He had known several members of the family who took their drinking to excess. It was always far away from towns, on the road between two places. He recalled that the parties at the way stations were particularly wet.

Instead of moving away, he brought his work closer to her. His medicine skill hadn't pinged, like he had expected it to if she was actually in danger. Better to be near the unconscious woman with beer breath, than not.

Finley got to work crafting a few more cards out of the days haul. He really wanted several more animal handling cards. He set up expectation in his mind. If there was a way to manifest those cards he would do it. The ability had paid off so many times for him. How could he not want everyone else to have it.

He didn't think about the drunk woman in front of him. He just saw her as something else in the background. He pushed into a meditative flow state and was absorbed his work. It felt like it had been ages before he looked up. The savory smell of food had arrived far too close for him to deny his hunger.

A bowl of the soup floated in front of him. He accepted it gracefully with both hands, thanking Stella for her hard work. He hadn't even noticed that it was Bob who had been holding the bowl until it was halfway down his gullet. He nodded in Bob's direction. The ranger returned the gesture, Red flames glinting off of his bald head.

It was more delicious than it had any right to be. Tears dripped down his face. He remembered the first time that one of the tinkers had fed him. He remember those first few times with fondness.

They hadn't known what he would eat. He ate with abandon. Before long he was getting up and presenting the bowl to Bob for seconds.

He remembered doing that ages ago, returning and asking for more because how could one not? The food was delicious, and he was young, restless and hungry.

Now he had the ability to induct people into the family. It gave him a measure of Hope. Hope that he would be able to rebuild everything that they had lost. Hope that he might one day encounter a tinker that he never met before. Perhaps now he would be one of the people serving up hot meals to stragglers who tagged along their caravan. He returned to sit next to Sonya. He slowly wanted some of the smell towards her in an attempts to rouse her, but she was dead to the world. She might have overdone it with her mana but she deserved to eat.

He chuckled, bringing his spoon out again.

"I wonder if you want to be a tinker. It's not too difficult. As far as you're concerned, it's just a little bit of paperwork. But seeing as how you're down for the count right now," Finley said, "I feel like we can talk about this when you wake up. And maybe you should try some of this delicious potato soup."