Ch: 119 All That Meat And No Potatoes
Diane dropped her hood with a chuckle of good humor. Dark, short hair, bright flashing blue eyes and a ready smile enlightened what would otherwise be ordinary features.
She stood not very tall and had a wide shouldered, ‘straight on at the world, come what may’ posture, that spoke volumes about the woman.
Diane slid up to a table and tucked in, smiling and waving all around, as though to friends of long acquaintance. With sheer bluff and confidence, the dark clad warrior became a smiling face in the crowd.
She had a lovely breakfast of grilled ground dragon, fresh and pickled vegetables with a soft fried egg, over a bowl of hot rice. Coffee with fresh, sweet cream and bread, fresh from the stone oven. Perhaps Trimble’s suggestion that she just come by daylight had some merit after all.
“I’m fair caught, kids, you got me good. I’m going to sneak in here some day… Once I figure out your tricks.” She lounged back and sipped her coffee with total pleasure, her casual pose at odds with the slight tension in her voice...
“How exactly did you get me singing and dancing along to a song I’ve never heard before?”
“There’s secrets that can be shared…” The musician held up an open palm, with a smile and a closed fist. “...and then there are Secrets, guess which one holds your answer.” His strange, crooked smile was still there, but perhaps a touch less sane. He wasn’t helped by the large, green and purple stick insect clinging to his shoulder.
“So what brings you by, an hour before first light, out in the wilderness?” That smile was quite mad, in the first stirrings of predawn. While he spoke with her, the chorus line of strange figures began drifting over, in ones and twos, to sink into his shadow with a quiet sigh from each.
“A formal complaint has been made, master Angbold of the Benevolent Society of Patissiers and Chocolatiers of Port Clement claims commercial espionage…” She announced. “That means they think you copied them and stole their candy secrets.”
“Uh huh, I know Angbold. He’s begging to get his bowels spread around in my garde…-” The stick insect, or perhaps mantis, perched on his shoulder pinched his ear fiercely. “Oww! Damn it Meria, that hurt.”
Somehow the strange insect looked pleased with itself and shared a smugly satisfied glance with the giant hillwoman.
“Anyway, he’s full of shit, his candy sucks and ours kicks ass. Any further questions?” He grumbled, rubbing his ear and shooting the insect dirty looks.
“My first action was to acquire samples of each product and compare them.” She smiled at some pleasant memory, falling quiet for a few heartbeats. “His claims fell short there…”
“Great, so we can trade normally now?” He demanded sharply, channeling a little frustrated merchant energy. “This delay has been a costly inconvenience, for no good purpose.”
“The Patissier’s case will be adjudicated by duke Belen, he may review my report, but he will make his own determinations. My employer is the Trade Association, it has additional concerns.”
At that, Shai scooted over, taking over the discussion without preamble.
“The Sweet Tooth guild be a manufactury, nae a shop nor merchant house, we are beholden tae Craft law. There we be in good stead an the Trade Association hae no say.”
“There we will disagree. My orders are to inspect the manufacturing facility for health and safety compliance, as well as examine your records for financial reporting. Any investors or backers must be duly recorded. Compliance with trade law is required, even if your facility is mobile.”
“This be nae our manufactory. This be a private home, an ye come at behest of the Publican’s guild of Tavern an Innkeepers, that be a different matter… but we hae had no complaints frae that quarter…” Shai seemed less confident there.
“Where, pray tell, is it then?” She demanded in growing frustration. “I found no properties or leases under the guild’s name and only two agricultural land leases for this japing oaf.” She jerked her thumb at the oaf, who was sitting at the pianoforte, engaged in some jape.
Sweet, simple chords tinkled from his fingers, as he swayed back and forth. “Our facility is in Wheatford, you could have visited it at any time, just ask the directors at the orphanage.”
Gary, at the pianoforte, smiled wide and began to play and sing a melancholy, happy song.
No one to talk with.
All by myself.
No one to walk with.
But I'm happy on the shelf.
Ain't misbehavin',
I'm savin' my love for you!
Tawny slid onto the bench, butt bumping the big musician out of the way.
“Sir Fats, of house Waller, has been helping me… Make yourself useful elsewhere!” She huffed, taking up his melody and executing it much more cleanly. Tawny drove hard, balancing the sweetly sad lyrics against the driving jazz piano line.
The dark clad Adventurer sighed in frustrated exhaustion. “So, it’s true, you formed a craft hall to rule a legion of orphans… that is madness. Almost as mad as a band of pre-indenture Adventurers.” She griped, deeply offended for some reason.
“Hey! They run the operation, we’re more like recruiters. Think of us like the personnel office, if you have a problem with our kids, that’s where we come in.” His smile became a bit feral, twisting his features.
“Someone in Port Fallon already discovered what happens if you mess with my kids.”
“I heard something of that misadventure, some hexed trinket fell afoul of a petty criminal... Such issues are outside my current remit. If your minions will allow me to inspect your facility I will wrap my investigation up there.” She said sourly.
“The orphans are in charge. Again, not my minions, they’re our brothers and sisters. Don’t try to open my machines, they’re dangerous and upsetting inside.” He had a mandolin in his hands, strumming and plucking along with Amy’s heartfelt ‘What A Wonderful World’.
“It’s hard to take your warning seriously, when such a large man is holding such a tiny instrument.” She giggled and smirked at the man as she swayed to the music. “The little one can really sing!”
“If you have all your answers, we need to get moving. You aren’t the only one with a job to do.” He grumbled and stood up. “We expect to be back in Wheatford by the feast of Water.”
The giant hillwoman walked her to the edge of the road, reiterating her mate’s warnings.
“An ye gain access tae the manufactory, dinnae fiddle wi the machines, twill frustrate thee at best. Off ye go, we hae a contract tae fulfill as well.”
Diane watched from a hilltop as the little group unceremoniously trotted up the foggy road, while the house and garden blew away on the morning fog.
“Amusing.” She sang to the frogs and crickets, who were still in tune and on rhythm.
#
It took another full day of trotting through woodland and marshes to reach the beginnings of the beastfolk settlements. The first signs were otter dens by the river side that featured stone ringed fire pits.
Clearly, they were camps visited by travelers on the waterways that had been used again and again, much as roadside camps existed in human lands.
A beaver pond with a clothesline, flying colorful laundry over the den was a good clue as well.
Mudwallow Bridge was far nicer than its evocative name suggested. A profusion of canals and streams ran down the gentle landscape, joining in a vast beaver pond, dotted by small islands and ringed with comfy looking cottages.
Low, rounded plastered walls and domed, mossy roofs, alive with orchids and other flowers made each home meld into its garden seamlessly.
Window boxes of herbs and flowers, docks and piers with small boats bobbing, a soft breeze and warm, spring evening sunshine brought it all together.
Lanes, shaded by willow and alder trees wandered among the waterways, crossing and recrossing on simple, well made bridges. Small parks and open grassy or mossy spaces were everywhere, they usually had mud slips, leading to a deep pool for carefree swimmers.
Otter, beaver and squirrel folk bustled and chatted, along with a few canine and feline people who were out and about by day, doing the business of living. They shopped, bargained, hawked wares, worked trades and generally got stuff done, moving among the few, scattered humans without a care.
Most homes seemed designed strictly for otter or beaver folk, with water entries in addition to doorways on land, though they were suited to their occupant’s stature.
The water dwelling men and women were seldom more than four feet tall, with the average being three and a half feet.
Gary peered all about in wonder, trying to take it all in at once. Among the low, round houses, only a few human structures could be seen.
They were taller, more square and less charming, in general than the rest of the architecture. A smithy, with a slate roof and stone walls sat at the very edge of town on a low hillock.
The inn was built to accommodate all travelers, it seemed. Right in the middle of everything, it rose three stories, towering over the rest of the town. Even Tallum would not need to stoop to enter the bustling common room.
There was no wall or guard house, they just rode into town and dismounted at the inn’s stable. A copper bit each got the horses a rubdown and a quiet pasture to wander for the afternoon. The girl running the stable was a beaver lass of around sixteen, who all the horses and ponies took to immediately.
“Such a pretty herd… we’ll have fun today!” She muttered while doling out carrots.
Gary and Ivy took the kids into the common room for a break, since Shai and Tallum seemed eager to visit the local smithy. Nerds with muscles are still just nerds. The others had their own legs to stretch and presumably, errands.
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The big musician stepped into the cool, shadowy inn first, eyeing the place before bringing the kids in. Dark wood beams and high raftered ceilings made the place seem cozy and big, at the same time. A wide bar lined with colorful bottles and a few kegs dominated the back wall.
The crowd was sparse at mid day, a few beastfolk and humans, eating and drinking in small groups, quiet chatter and clattering wooden cutlery was the only sound..
The proprietor moved among the low tables and benches with a pitcher of wine, pouring here and there.
In a spotless white apron, a smiling otter man stood straight, shot a worried look at the door where he stood and scampered up, chirping in common.
“Ahh welcome… Traveler…” He began nervously, standing well back from the man in the doorway and fidgeting.
Until he spotted Amy, peering around the doorway, with Rio and Wilford right behind. His attitude shifted wildly, into happy, squirming, excitement. “Oh! Human kits, how fun! Are you seeking rooms? We hardly ever see human visitors, never with young! Audrey! Come quick!”
The frantic little guy almost tied himself in a knot wriggling with joy, he squirmed so vigorously, his apron and sash came undone, fluttering to the floor.
“Jelek! Put your clothes back on this instant! This is a decent house!” The presumed ‘Audrey’ was a cheery otter woman who was very pregnant. Her twinkling eyes and chittering grin as she mocked their host made Gary feel right at home.
“Clothes my sweet tail! I don’t have hips! Fool woman! Once you birth my kits, your apron will join mine on the floor!” He stamped in comical fury, shaking a tiny fist at the heavens.
The otter couple carried on for a few minutes, entertaining the children… until they couldn't stop giggling at their own antics.
“Don’t mind them.” A big, burly beaver man seated by the door whispered. “They only wear aprons and such, when new humans visit, they make a game of it.”
“Thanks pal… My kids are certainly enjoying the show.” He mumbled to his new acquaintance. “We’re looking for a local. Vreek the hunter… He’s supposed to be our guide into the hills.”
“Are you our adventurers?” He murmured with pleasure. “Come to root out whatever is haunting the hill keep?”
“Were you expecting us?” He asked. “I thought we would be a surprise.”
“Reegil has been furious for a solution for a few weeks, since the wedding.” The beaver looked distressed, even in the charming inn room. He looked around suspiciously, as though some ghast might be lurking under his table.
“The fish sharing ritual?” Gary asked with a wink.
“It was horrible… the thing bumbled right in and fell on top of the bride… the stench…” Gary had never seen a furry face go pale before, it was pretty alarming.
“It’s the shades and ghosts for me, though.” he shuddered over his entire body even sitting in the warm sunshine from the open doorway.
“I can almost feel them looking at me even now like there are ghosts in the inn all the sudden. Creepy…”
“Breathe, buddy, it’s ok…” Gary soothed the fellow, while Ivy wrangled the kids into a table. Audrey and Jelek were perfectly charming, once they finished goofing on eachother.
They set a fine table for a light lunch. Broiled fish and roasted marsh root vegetables and some dark purple grain that tasted like sweet barley and love, all dished up in a bowl of rice with flatbread. A sweet rice pudding came at the end, sticky and rich with dried fruit and spices, all three kids were all over it.
Gary tried Audrey’s beer, out of professional interest of course… He bought a round for his new beaver friend, while Ivy and Jelek had a fine time with the kids.
The beer was a little weak and watery, warm and flat, but it had a floral and citrus bite that made up for a lot of its issues.
“It’s our local hops that make it so refreshing, wheat and barley are too pricey here, so we use malted rice, mostly…” She shrugged her ‘shoulders’, which turned out to be a sinuous wriggle that ran from her nose to her tail.
“We might be interested in trading for some hops…” Gary murmured, leaning on her bar in studied indolence.
She wasn’t fooled by his attempt to seem disinterested, not even a little. “Oh ho! You are no trader, send me a real challenge boy. Your kin will be cross if I strip you of all your coin for a few bales of dried flowers.”
He grinned wide and happily at the cheerful woman. “My lady is going to love you… the rest of our crew will be along in a while, they’re at the forge.”
Skander, his new beaver buddy snacked on a shoot of green bamboo and chuckled. “Then your friends have already found Vreek… his wife Cherie, She is the smith, she makes him pump the bellows when he’s in town.”
#
Cherie the smith’s shop was well organized, well lit, clean and comfortable. Her simple tools and weapons on display ranged from kitchen knives to some pretty vicious looking blades and axes. Housewares and other forms of ironmongery like skillets, pots and stoves were scattered round the cozy shopfront.
Mixed in with the goods were number of comfy chairs and a toasty potbellied stove with a kettle simmering on top.
Shai and Tallum had a lovely visit with their new friend, before getting into her workshop, where the action was.
Cherie stood at her grinding wheel, graceful and lean. Her golden, dusky fur and easy smile made the cougar woman a comforting, soothing presence, despite her predatory nature and feline grace. Just over five feet tall she was not physically imposing, but she oozed calm and confidence.
Meanwhile, her husband cranked the mechanism with a put upon look on his spotted muzzle. The small jaguar man was muscular and fit, but the flat top of his head only came to just under his wife’s shoulder.
He seemed eager to be elsewhere, anywhere really. He kept shooting longing glances at the door and the bright spring sunshine streaming in.
Halfway through the chatting and shop talk among the smiths, he picked up on some important details.
“Wait… Wheatford? Are you lot the Adventurers Reegil has been promising?”
He looked so hopeful, Shai was tempted to lie, just to watch his soul die a little. Tallum, so shy and effacing when in most social situations, was in his element beside the blazing forge.
“That’s us, one of our guys is a specialist in… spooky stuff.” He rumbled, as he eyed the workshop for the kind of innovative, homebrewed tools that all smiths seemed to create for themselves.
“Is one of you the leader? I was told to look for the giantess that holds the madman’s leash…” The cat man sank down low and chittered with happy anxiety, tail thrashing.
He seemed so excited Shai had to relent, just a little. “Ye will find the ones you seek in our camp this evening. Join us at fifth bell, til then ye can surely turn a few cranks fer Cheri...”
He bounced on his toes and murred with displeasure. “Well the worm has turned my love! My hunt is on, now you can go back to hunting for an apprentice to crank and spin your machines!” He popped over and kissed her on the cheek, before scampering out the door and into the sunshine.
“I’ll find your comrades myself!” He vanished out the door in a few quick bounds.
“I’d best go supervise, That poor man o mine hae all the savvy of a good hammer.” The two Adventurers excused themselves, with an invitation to visit; “...where e’er we do find ourselves this night.”
#
Vreek found mayor Throkmorton standing on a bridge chatting with a strange, armored human.
“...all beer and wine must be sold by the inn. Small coin trade is untaxed until you reach a copper mark, after that, one coin in ten goes to the town coffers.”
“Agreed, this seems ideal for us. You have been very accommodating mayor, thank you.”
The young warrior bowed with immaculate courtesy and shook hands when the jolly beaver mayor offered his instead. “Solve this for us and I’ll show you what our gratitude looks like...” Throk noticed the hunter standing at the foot of the bridge.
“Liam, apprentice Adventurer, meet Vreek, your guide into the hills. We trust his safety to you.”
The young man seemed very serious and responsible, he exuded an aura of energetic competence and keen interest, so unlike most young people.
“Huntsman Vreek, we will value your guidance. We plan to camp on this island tonight, then spend the day scouting the local area tomorrow. Our plan is to head into the hills the day after… is this acceptable?”
“A day in town ‘scouting the area’… sounds like a day off to me, deal! So long as I am to accompany your explorers and scouts… else my wife will find me and put me to pumping the bellows.”
“I suspect that my companions’ plans have more to do with being alone than any actual work. Last time it was ‘fishing’... though they did actually come back with some fish.” Liam snickered naughtily, as they walked together to the inn nearby.
The place was ringing to a simple country dance tune, played well and very catchy. “A dance as well! How marvelous!” His feet began sketching complex forms as they walked, dancing along at a measured pace.
“I hear the smith woman’s jingling backside in there, My wife is probably already dancing… best we hurry, Liam Adventurer!”
“No fear there, this will be going on for a while. It’s exhausting at times.” He muttered ruefully. “I need a day off as much as anyone.”
The tiny stage in the corner had three tiny kids seated on chairs. Each one had a simple instrument, bongos, ukulele and alto recorder. The big smith woman was the only other musician playing, as those hips chimed sweetly along with the kids.
A tall brown haired man was conducting the youngsters, leading them with a long baton of pale wood that seemed to sparkle and flash enticingly.
He spotted Liam at the door, with a wink he slipped the baton to his dancing woman, who whirled and spun with the gleaming rod.
A golden puma woman swept Vreek up into the dance, as Liam led Gary into the gathering evening.
“We have a tidy island near the center of town, one bridge, we get a ten yard radius around our bridge landing for Becky’s project.”
“Perfect… and we can take tomorrow off?” He grinned happily when Liam nodded. “Ok, let me do my thing…”
‘Lookin Out My Back Door’ was on the nose and a bit cliche, but who cares? In under five minutes he had the house and shop set up, lofting that familiar column of steam into the sky.
Moments later, booths manifested on the village commons near their bridge. Colorful and inviting, they were shuttered til morning. Becky and the kids were planning on shifting as much worm meat onto the unsuspecting village as they could.
“This is gonna be so relaxing.” He murmured as his family approached, still dancing and capering. Shai swept into his arms with a musical tinkle and a kiss.
“We hae some few guests, but we dinnae wish tae disturb the local inn…” She whispered, until the otter couple came wriggling over the bridge to join the party.
“Where is the beer, humans?” Jelek called happily, as he slid onto a stool by the bar.
“Fie on thee! We hae just opened, ye can bide a while, ye great soggy weasel!” Shai barked as she helped Audrey into the pool.
“Men, why dae we let them near us again?” She asked the sleek, round, otter woman, loudly enough for all the rowdy menfolk in the garden to hear.
“Oh I think you know why well enough, Shai!” Audry chittered, eyeing the three human kids, rolling around on the lawn with a group of furry local youngsters.
#
Bedtime came late on the little island in the lake. Morning came even later; fog rolled in so dense and thick it muffled even the sounds of cocks crowing around town. First bell clanged out from the village hall, barely reaching the edge of the settlement.
Gary and Shai were up when Becky came down, the duo were singing softly together, elbows deep in massive wads of white bread dough.
Bend me,
Shape me,
Anyway you want me…
Trays of formed loaves sat on racks by the fire, slowly rising as they worked and sang.
Hey there Becky,
We’re baking bread,
Grab some dough and get to work!
He sang, brutalizing the rhyme scheme with a wink.
“Fie that were awful… Nae more of that bilge.” Shai scolded.
“We hae been getting ye ready ‘ere we go scouting, there be many nuggies in the freeze.” Shai kept kneading as she spoke, smiling happily.
“Ye hae sauces, rice on tae soak an we soon finish twelve dozen loaves. Fatten this town well, my dear; I too, hae no more room fer worm.”
“Ok… I get it. Sell all you want, give it away, whatever… just leave me some ok? I get snacky and sometimes only ground dragon will satisfy.” Gary kept kneading as well, but his heart wasn’t in it any more.
#
Out in the booths, the fryers and ovens were hot and rice kettles were steaming away, filling the greensward with a tempting aroma.
The edge of the counter’s passthrough was right at the very edge of his zone of influence, so any fried foods would naturally surrender their imaginary oil on delivery… low maintenance and delicious, Becky almost felt bad for cheating.
#
Amy, Wilf and Rio were on stools, playing a merry dance tune to greet second bell, enlivening the morning on the green. Sweet and savory smelling steam wafted through the clinging mist and fog, drifting slowly through the center of the village.
“Tempura vegetables! Hot Rice! Impossible nuggets and fresh rolls!” Amy sang out, calling into the fog like a carnival barker, in her shattering, crystalline voice.
“Going cheap and ready now! Who’s hungry for ground dragon? Adventurer harvested, wild caught!” She cried into the misty morning. “Taste what the ruling heads of two duchies have called, ‘A Delicious Treat!’ Come and taste our sauces!”
Vreek the hunter was first in line, probably to get out of his house before he could be dragooned into working the bellows. He tossed a few iron bits in the barrel and collected two big bowls each for himself and Cherie.
Thick slabs of giant leech, skewered and grilled over charcoal and glazed with a sweet brown sauce that dripped onto the steaming rice filled the first one. That didn’t survive long, once they got a taste it was all over.
He turned to his other sample first, while his lady wife was still marveling over the ‘unagi’ bowl. This one was the ‘impossible nuggies’ the children seemed so excited over. “Gods, these really are impossible…” He muttered, around a fork full of deliciousness.
The sweet, tangy citrus and chili sauce was very nice, but the persistent crunch and pillowy, tender, juicy, ground dragon nuggets, enrobed in golden breadcrumbs, were enough all by themselves. Sauce and rice made it almost too much to bear.
The feline couple were soon joined by friends and neighbors from all around the village, lounging on the green and eating.
Ivy and Dannyl were working the fryers and vast iron griddle, while Liam, Tawny and Herlick dished up rice, split loaves and pickled vegetables.
Bannock wielded the sauce ladles with even handed and measured skill, dosing them out like a pharmacist, in carefully calibrated amounts and dispersal patterns.
With an artful twist of the wrist, bannock cut off the flow of rich, sweet soy sauce. Tangy ginger chili swept in from the left, dripping and dotting seemingly at random; until the happy little beaver stable girl received her tempura vegetables over rice, sauced in the image of a smiling face.
Every bowl and sandwich came away looking like a work of art under their steady hands, with drizzles and dollops arranged with symmetry and an eye for color and form.
“This is strangely satisfying work… Is this… Craft?” Bannock asked Tallum quietly as yet another immaculately dressed bowl left the sauce station.
“Not exactly, Gary is feuding with Craft so he can’t come here, this is a fae blessing from Brigid, queen of poets, the hearth and forge. Feels good doesn’t it?” The big smith rumbled, with a tray of hot bread in his mittened hands. “Making things is a pleasure all its own… and a prayer to the gods and spirits.” He slid another tray of loaves into the oven with a satisfied smile.
“We’re still inside Gary’s aura, even though he’s gone ‘scouting’ with Shai, because we’re still near the house.” Becky dropped another load of nuggies into the fryer, as more misty shadows approached through the fog.
She shook a basket of veggie tempura into the warming tray. “That means we can use some of his gifts, that’s what the kids are doing. Their music is winding and spinning the magic around us to make things more… crafty. Steady on, it’s about to get busy, gang…”
From the coin barrel, Nara’s voice rang out. “Order up, Three nuggie sandos, four veggie bowls, four unagi, two devil crabcakes…!”
#