The party sat around the table nearest the fireplace, enjoying their first proper drink in many, many days. There were only two other patrons sharing the common room with them. One of the two seemed to have no eyes but for the barkeep, who was keeping him pleasantly distracted – and progressively less sober. The other, though, kept eyeing them from across the room. He seemed discomfited, perhaps from the lack of conversation, or perhaps simply from the way they kept staring at small details. At the grain of the wood slowly burning in the fireplace, at the chair that creaked every time they shifted weight, or even just staring, transfixed, at the glimmers of firelight passing through their brew.
Finally it seemed he’d had enough. Getting a final pint from the bartender, he swayed over to the group, not bothering to introduce himself. “Not a chatty bunch, are ya?”
Mirrel looked up and scowled at him, opening his mouth to reply.
“…” He closed his mouth with a clack, then turned back to the group and smirked wordlessly.
Sojo sighed, and turned in her seat. “Please excuse Mirrel, he thinks he’s clever.” She gestured around the table. “I’m Sojo, that’s Brehen and Eyn. And you are?”
“Talen Matice, local farmer and gossipmonger. Pleased ta meet y’all!” Talen swept into a sarcastic bow, nearly pitching over forward in the process. “Hum, maybe I should avoid theatrics with this many in me,” he mused, dragging a rough chair over. “So, farmers or craftsfolk? Normally I can tell the two apart in a wink, I assure ya, but while you’ve got the cart for both, you’ve the clothes of neither! Couldn’t get much from the glance when ya came in, nothing but bundles and barrels on that wagon o’ yours. Could be anythin’ in there, seeds for sowing or leather for workin’… I don’t expect ya could have packed much forge-worthy kit in there, and not with enough room for food along the way neither…”
Talen spread his arms wide. “A real mystery then! So tell me, what brings y’into my delightful company?”
Brehen and Eyn were wide-eyed, and she was leaning back as if the words were a howling wind. Sojo was struggling to contain her laughter. “Porial’s blessing, I’ve found my people!” She leaned in, and it was like the edges of her vision had darkened, and nothing in the world existed but Talen’s eager grin.
“We come as explorers, trekking this vast and featureless landscape in search of adventure. Also treasure, if we can find it. And we wouldn’t turn down some great, news-of-the-year discoveries were they to fall into our laps.”
Talen leaned forward to interrupt, but Sojo continued, relentless.
“But that’s enough of us! A great gossip is too valuable to waste, so I simply must know: what have the scouts been saying? I’ve heard they’ve been out and back again already! Have you heard anything from them?” She watched the man absorb her demands, and took the moment to check the rest of the table. Eyn still looked like a cat about to bolt, but Brehen had relaxed fractionally. She couldn’t get a look at Mirrel; his mug was in the way, and she got the impression it wasn’t moving for a while.
“Well if it’s news on the Corn Scouts you’re lookin’ for, ya got the right farmer. They’re the ones funding my gossip-huntin’ rounds, after all – bought every stick of food or feed I had not ten days back. We just finished replantin’, and I decided a few days off and some lighter pockets were in order.” He raised his mug for emphasis, and his posture suffered just a little more for it.
“They must have told you something of what they’d found, then?” Sojo prodded, as Talen’s attention wandered a touch in the direction of his drink. His eyes refocused, but Sojo couldn’t help but wonder whether he’d even remain upright if she nudged his elbow off the table. Eyn was staring there too… hatching escape plans, maybe?
“They tried not to talk too much, but there’s always a few willing to spread the word.” He puffed out his chest, and massacred a dignified expression. “The o-fficial word is that they’ve found good land, and that it was ‘unmarred’.” Talen lingered over the word like an unfamiliar candy. “Really just means that they didn’t get into fightin’ out there. They wouldn’t be coming back so soon if it was that good, though, probably couldn’t graze too well and had to feed some of their rations to the horses.”
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
He noticed Sojo’s rueful expression and chuckled. “Not what ya wanted to hear, was it? Well lemme tack on something better. They kept asking about who ‘round here is known for their brewin’, seemed very interested in getting some barrels and drink.”
Mirrel’s mug went down as Talen rambled. “Normally I’d pass it off as just soldiers bein’ soldiers, but the officers were askin’ too!” His face spasmed, and it took Sojo a moment to realize he was trying to waggle his eyebrows. Mirrel’s mug started creeping back.
“Now, the scouts know their business, ain’t none who’d argue that. Ain’t none!” he insisted as Eyn scoffed. She subsided into sullen silence. “I’d say they’re tryin’ to find ways to lighten the loads on the horses. If they know they hafta carry more feed, though, it seems to me that they’d be bringin’ alcohol to mix in with local water, keep them from gettin’ sick on the way.” Brehen’s chair creaked, and Sojo could hear his foot tapping on the table leg. “I’d bet heavy coin that they found a lake somewhere, or maybe even a river, and they’re expectin’ to ‘plenish their water from it.” Talen sighed, “Couldn’t get the place of it out of them, though. Teph’s given us all the light we can stand, out here, but water’d make any farm rich in this desert. As it is, the carpenters ain’t slept in a month, with people throwing coin at’em for rain barrels.”
“You think people would pay to know where this lake was sitting?” Sojo asked, wondering what kind of detour they could afford.
Brehen cut in. “Oh definitely, if it was near 50 miles of here the town might even pool together to get a road fixed up to it.” Sojo’s grin was widening, but Brehen continued, glancing at her. “Don’t get your hopes up too quick, now. If it were along the road, they’d have heard news from down the way. Those scouts have been out for weeks; there’s no telling where that lake might be.”
“But-” Sojo started.
“No, he’s right.” Mirrel interrupted. “It would be a gamble, to try for the lake. On the one hand, there’s a certainty that folk would pay to know a better place to settle. It’s appealing, should we find it.” Mirrel paused, looking through his empty glass, and waved it suggestively at the bartender. “On the other hand, we expected it to be weeks before we even made it to the end of the road. It would take us a good two months to search a portion of the land on either side of it, and even then we’d have no guarantee of finding anything.”
“Can’t trust the scouts anyways,” Eyn said softly. When the rest looked at her, she quailed, but continued. “Can’t trust the scouts to keep it to themselves anyways. They know word’ll spread through folk like, uhh…” Her eyes widened again.
“Talen.” Brehen said softly.
She continued, nearly whispering. “Right, Talen. They know he’d puzzle it out. They probably just don’t want to encourage people already settled to move again. I bet they already have the maps drawn up, sent by envoy to Eastern cities to help manage the next wave. We’d be hard pressed to find it, map it, and sell it before them.”
At this, the table went quiet again. Sojo glanced at Talen, curious why he hadn’t broken the silence, and realized his elbow had gone out on its own. She noted the growing puddle of drool on the table and decided not to wake him.
“So, no change to the plan,” she concluded, and they all nodded. They still seemed a little shell-shocked at the exchange, but she was privately delighted the gossip had come around. It was satisfying, like a scratched itch. “Oh, Brehen, Mirrel, do you think we should add to our food stocks, then? If it starts to get sparse, we might have issues feeding Sow and Fallow.”
Brehen nodded. “Did you see anyone selling oats at the market? I could go see if there’s any left, or maybe in the morning.”
“Not that I can remember,” Mirrel replied, “and they’ll be gone by now. There’ll be another town along before the grass goes on us.”
“In that case, I’m off to bed.” Brehen stood slowly, and gave a parting glance to Talen, still face-down on the table. He shook his head and walked away. The farmer started to snore loudly in response. Within moments, he was alone at the table.
–
The group woke with pre-dawn twilight sliding through the window, and set unhappily to their tasks. To onlookers, of which there were none, they would have appeared confused by working without a stiffness borne of sleeping on hard-packed dirt; they walked slowly, slightly hunched despite their rest, and moved to their tasks with a curious lack of familiarity.
Finally the wagon was packed and ready, and as they prepared to leave, the breeze stilled. The ramshackle buildings were not yet warmed enough by the sun to creak, and animals still slept quietly behind them. The travellers paused, and in the hush from absent footfalls their breath caught in their throats. With pulses pounding in their ears, the group’s attention snapped to Eyn as her puzzle clacked in her hands.
She glanced around as the light breeze resumed, and the group’s low chuckles echoed off the buildings as Brehen urged the horses onwards. They walked briskly out of the settlement, with at most a few bleary eyes noting their departure.
No gazes followed them long; no anger or grief was stoked by their absence. The town slumbered at the early hour, but would soon revive itself, returning to a bustle as each person prepared for the days ahead. None would hear the words shared as the group fell over the endless divide of empty land and empty sky.