Installment 38 [https://squirrel.dogphilosophy.net/Installment038.png]
They all agreed Wikwocket could have the mysterious rapier since she was the one most capable of using it. Gruntle was the only other member of their group who had any experience with swords at all, and though the blade was quite long for Wikwocket, it would have been hardly a shiv for Gruntle if he'd even had any interest in it. She was reluctantly convinced to leave it in the lead-lined chest until they'd at least rigged up some sort of sheathe arrangement for it that wouldn't drag on the ground behind her as she walked. In return, Al agreed not to hide somewhere with the journal to study the wizardry in it until after they'd made another visit to the keep. He put the journal and the book in the chest for safe-keeping as well.
It was mid-day by the time Al had finished his arcane preparation for the day's trip. Wikwocket and Bote had already gone out to socialize with the Biggest Coop's staff and customers. Gruntle napped lightly with his belly full of food, but woke quickly when Al started loading a few supplies into his pack for the afternoon excursion. He followed Al out into the main room.
There were only a few villagers there, but they seemed content. Rose was behind the bar, humming happily as she tidied things up. She gave Al a cheerful wave. Somewhere outside, Al could hear the indistinct sounds of some people greeting each other as they passed by, and in the distance was the faint sound of children playing.
The skull of the beast had been hung on the wall behind the bar. In the relaxed atmosphere and the light of day, it seemed more like some sort of natural curiosity than something that so recently wanted to devour them or rip out their hearts for demon-sacrifice purposes.
Wikwocket hopped down out of her seat. "Time to go look for more treasure?" she asked eagerly.
"We're not looters," Al reminded her, "but, yes, I'm ready to go back up and see if we can learn more."
"This will be enlightening, I'm sure." Bote said, getting to their feet as well.
Rose wished them well as they left, and promised supper when they returned.
"Henhaven is kind of nice now that everyone's not worried any more." Al mused as they followed the road towards the south end of the village.
"I wouldn't go that far," Bote chuckled, "the chickens still run for their coops as we pass, and some of the villagers still seem uncertain about Gruntle. Also, a few people have mentioned some worry about the taxes. But, yes, it is much more pleasant now."
A man leading a pony loaded with bags of grain tried to pass by them, but the pony became increasingly nervous as he got nearer to the adventurers. The man eventually had to practically wrestle the pony into submission to go around them without having it completely panic. He gave them a look of mixed worry and annoyance as he moved away.
"I guess it's natural for normal animals to have an instinctual fear of predators." Al considered. "Good thing we're used to walking."
"Many animals can be trained to overcome their natural fears. No normal horse would tolerate a battle but they may be trained to be warhorses." Bote scratched their beard in contemplation. "I imagine such training takes time and expense, of course."
"Well, we're starting to have too much stuff to just carry around with us unless we get a cart or a pack-animal of some kind. That lead-lined chest is going to be tough to carry on foot and if we did we'd probably attract the kind of attention we don't want." Al said. "Maybe the villagers have a cart they'd let us take. We could pull it behind us at least."
"Gruntle could pull us! And I could just ride!" Wikwocket suggested. Gruntle grunted.
Al considered this. "I'm sure we could...convince...Gruntle to drag us around, but treating him as a full-time packbeast just seems like a bad use of his potential."
"I suppose we could take turns. Well, you could take turns. A delicate flower of innocence such as myself couldn't possibly pull a big-enough cart to be useful."
Al nearly threatened to come up with some wizardry to make her suitable to pull a cart, but stopped himself as he realized she'd probably like the idea and wouldn't stop nagging him until he found some way to follow through.
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The route to the keep was familiar from the night before - out past the last house with the donkey in the chickenyard, less than an hour of walking down the road, and up the hill. The addition of sunlight and cheerful waves from grateful villagers on their way out made the trip feel much nicer this time.
Another thing that was different was the unexpected man standing patiently outside the front door of the keep as they arrived. He was a tall, slim, handsome man wearing a clean white jacket over a puffy dark-green shirt. The jacket was open to show the completely gratuitous ruffles of the shirt, complementing the regularly slit sleeves of the jacket with folds of the shirt-sleeves poking through to make his arms appear ruffled as well. White knee-high leather boots, tight-fitting white breeches with green trim matched with the rest of the clothing. A tall rounded felt hat worn slightly off-center with a ridiculous bouquet of thorny green roses and bird feathers tied to it completed the outfit, which Al assumed was the latest pointless fashion trend among the nobility. The man's head was covered with perfectly oiled and curled short golden hair and was clean-shaven. On his face was the calm smirk of someone who is nearly always unimpressed by life but has just spotted something that might provide some welcome temporary amusement.
The man leaned, relaxed, against the wall next to the front door of the keep, resting his hands on the silvery metal casting in the shape of a wolf's head atop a tall cane. He gave a calm smile and polite nod as Al and his companions approached. Al saw him look each of them over one by one, raising an eyebrow at Gruntle.
"Don't worry, we're friendly," Al called out to reassure the man.
"I'm glad to hear that," the man replied affably, "I imagine things would be unpleasant for me if you weren't. Welcome to Wulfcynn Keep. I am Baron Hearne Wulfcynn. May I have your names?"
"I'm called Al," Al answered, feeling happy that this visit to the keep was off to a pleasant start. "That's Bote, this is Gruntle, and...oh, you probably want to do your own introduction," he finally said to Wikwocket.
"My name's Wikwocket," said Wikwocket with shocking brevity. Al glanced to see her with a somewhat forced-looking friendly smile. Turning back to Baron Wulfcynn, Al saw a slight moment of annoyance or disappointment on his face, though it was replaced with friendliness again almost immediately. Perhaps he had been expecting a more formal response.
"I expect I owe the four of you for the gifts. From what we found in my keep this morning, it appears someone has done me a great service. Was that you?" asked the Baron.
"You will need to clarify the service that you are referring to in order for us to provide a truthful answer, but the four of us were here last night," Bote answered before Al could. "May I ask when you last visited Wulfcynn Keep?"
Baron Wulfcynn turned his friendly smile to Bote. "I have been away from here during the last four years, busy with delicate matters at court, and have arrived only this morning. I do not know the name of the caretaker that was handling the matters of the keep before today. Whoever he was, he seems to have badly neglected the place and left quite a mess."
Al relaxed. He'd been worried that the beast was going to turn out to be a relative.
"We came last night tracking an unnatural beast who has been killing the people of Henhaven," Al summarized, "We don't have the whole story but it seems the caretaker bargained with something he shouldn't have and it corrupted him. What he had become was slain last night."
"Ah, that would be the headless skeletal thing my servants found in the cellar, then. If you are responsible for ridding us of that monster, then it is to you that I owe a service. We cannot have some creature killing off the populace, after all, the dead are exempt from paying taxes. Ha ha."
Yes, definitely nobility, thought Al.
"That was us, yes. We came back hoping to learn more about what led up to this situation, we didn't expect to find anyone here. The place seemed like it had been neglected for a long time."
"I noticed. The servants have cleaned things up as best they could before they went to fetch the rest of my things. However, I can welcome you in to take another look around. First though, I would ask if you've taken anything from the keep already."
"There were a few things," Al admitted, and then listed them off. "I took two books that I found in the study, and a lantern that we found in the alchemical laboratory. We took the skull of the beast, of course, and a chest, but that OW!"
Wikwocket had accidentally stepped on Al's foot.
"The chest was locked, so we carried it out without opening it," she explained flatly.
The baron counted on his fingers and nodded. "Then I will allow you to take one more thing from my keep, with the condition that whatever single thing you take must be carried out by one of you, and I ask that you not disassemble or destroy anything in the process of taking whatever it is you've chosen."
Al found this odd, as it was the sort of strange reward that happened in storybooks. Curiosity overcame Al's concerns about etiquette.
"Any one object?" He asked.
"That's correct."
"If you don't mind me asking...I don't want to seem ungrateful because I'm not, but those seem like strangely specific conditions. May I ask why?"
"Someone such as myself, with substantial experience dealing with courtly matters, becomes cautious about the sort of wordplay trickery that's possible. If I simply offered you any one object, you might be inclined, for example, to ask for ownership of the foyer of the keep on the assumption that this would grant you the right to enter the keep at any time. While I welcome the occasional guest if they're interesting, you can understand that I wouldn't want anyone coming and going as they please in my private keep. Specifying that you not disassemble anything prevents you from causing damage to the building or for example, taking the front door. It's just the way things are done."
"'Five hundred gold coins valued at five hundred gold coins'," Al muttered to himself. Then to the baron he said, "Thank you, for the reward and for the explanation. The life of a noble at court must be an interesting one."
"It can be entertaining. Wulfcynn is a very old, noble lineage, a part of the Casusian court for many generations. Sadly in decline of late. I am in fact the last of the Wulfcynn family at this time. I shall have to find myself a baroness and produce some heirs. Are you of noble descent, my diminutive Wikwocket?" the baron teased.
"No. Sorry," she replied, her face a stiff mask of politeness.
The baron chuckled. "Pity," he said with a grin. "Now then, allow me to invite you inside to look around and collect your reward before my servants return with the rest of my own possessions. I had the servants clean the place this morning as best they could, but as you know things were not well-maintained, so I must apologize for any disarray that remains."
He beckoned them to follow as he pushed the door to the keep open.