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Natural Slave
Countryside Ramble

Countryside Ramble

"Just wait here." Ramon whispers to me, squeezing me behind a clump of bushes by the side of the dirt road.

He then gives our horses a cursory check, before tying them to a nearby fence demarcating the boundary of a small lot of farmland growing corn. With everything to Ramon's satisfaction, he walks toward the plain but fairly large two story house that serves as the residence of whomever owns this countryside farm.

"Why do I have to wait in the bushes?" I hiss from my hiding place.

"Because you look weird and we don't want to scare whomever lives here." Ramon explains before rapping on the house's door with his knuckles.

"I thought you liked this shit." I grumble, picking at the tatters remnants of the maid uniform that still cling to my body. I toss away the long wig, now stained with mud and dust, into the bushes as well, letting my scalp breathe.

Yeah, on second thought, Ramon is probably right, this getup has passed its use by date. The uniform and wig did its work just fine in fooling the gendarme in allowing me to flee Deshawn City, though how much of that was actually due to my doppelganger running about and cleaning house is up in the air. Wandering about dressed like this in the middle of the countryside is just asking for trouble, or at the very least, unwanted attention. Just my luck I lost all my luggage while fighting the stabber.

"Yes?" the house's door opens and a man's voice cautiously rings out. A barrel chested, middle aged man with an oiled beard greets my companion.

"Hello there!" Ramon cheerfully replies, "You see my good man, I've a bit of a problem and was hoping that you could help out."

"We don't have much money here." the farmer hurriedly replies and I nearly facepalm, remembering that Ramon is still wearing all those gun belts he equipped while escaping from Deshawn City. Armed, unknown man shows up out of nowhere without knowing? There's only one reasonable conclusion to draw. To drive the point home, my enhanced hearing picks up the distinct sound of a musket being primed somewhere in the house.

"Oh no, nothing like that!" Ramon quickly denies, "You see, my friend has suffered something of an emergency -"

"I don't see anyone with you." the farmer says dourly, backing away from the door.

"Hello." I pipe up from the bushes, poking my hand out to give a wave.

"As I said, my friend has suffered an emergency, a clothing emergency to be precise -" Ramon continues, not in the least flustered.

"A clothing emergency." the farmer repeats, nonplussed.

"Yes, its rather embarrassing, I'm afraid." Ramon nods sagaciously, "That's why he's hiding in those bushes. You wouldn't want to see him in the state he's in now!"

"I see ..." the farmer muses, scratching his bearded chin thoughtfully.

"So, what my friend needs is a set of new clothes." Ramon presses on, "Something he can look decent in. Would you have anything to spare? We can pay."

"A pair of city boys?" the farmer asks, "Not used to the rural flavor?"

"Straight from Deshawn City, sir." Ramon confirms.

"Wait here." the farmer nods and shuts the door, locking it securely.

"Did you just imply that I shit my pants?" I snap at Ramon who looks innocently back at me.

"No, I said that you look embarrassing. Which is the truth." Ramon guffaws, "Unless you want to explain things to our helpful acquaintance?"

"You know what, forget it." I sigh, "Let's just get what we came for and get out of here."

"Stop being so sore." Ramon snorts, "I didn't complain when you stole that gold from my house."

"Which I gave back to you after we escaped from Deshawn City!" I protest.

"And the healing potion that you used." Ramon keeps needling at me, "Being the butt of a joke is the least you could do the repay me."

"I can repay you for the healing potion once I get my money back." I point out in a huff, "Its not as if I can't afford it."

"And your money is where precisely?" Ramon raises an eyebrow.

"Uh, in Robeur Keep." I reluctantly admit.

"Which you can't return to." Ramon laughs, a grin plastered to his face, "Perhaps ever."

"I've got a plan, alright?" I grumble, "Its not as if I fled Deshawn City without knowing what to do next."

Actually, that's not exactly true. My plan only formed after Ramon and I managed to escape the city. But he doesn't need to know that.

"Well, what's your -" Ramon begins to ask, but is cut off by the house's door opening again.

"Well, your friend can have these." the farmer says, handing Ramon a bundle of clothes, "No need for any money, just happy to help where I can."

"Thank you!" Ramon cheers and accepts the bundle. The door closes once more and Ramon moves to the bushes, handing the clothes over to me.

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Roughly made short sleeved work shirt and trousers. Not the best I've worn, but it'll do. I begin changing out of the tattered maid's uniform, noting that while the new clothes are slightly loose, they fit well enough.

"So, what is it?" Ramon quizzes from the side while I finish dressing myself.

"What is what?" I reply to the non sequitur, stepping out of the bushes while tucking in the work shirt, the maid's uniform securely tucked under my arm.

"Your plan, Mac. How you're going to be bouncing back from all this?" Ramon says as we walk to our horses. We mount up and begin riding down the dirt road, away from the farm, the afternoon sun beating against our backs. I note that the barrel of a musket withdrawing into an open window located on the house's second story.

"Go back to Springvale." I explain, tossing the uniform into a dusty ditch, "Deshawn City's gendarme has no jurisdiction there, so I should be safe enough. From there I can begin the process of clearing my name in Deshawn City."

"Seriously?" Ramon smirks, barely restraining his laughter.

"Yes, seriously." I frown, "What's so funny anyway? Its a perfectly reasonable plan."

"Your plan is to go back to staying at your parents' house?" Ramon remarks with a grin.

"Yes. I intend to go back home." I roll my eyes, "Because there I know I won't be sold out to the gendarme or House Robeur."

"Its a bad plan though." Ramon disputes as we speed our horses up to a comfortable trot.

"How so?" I scratch my cheek, a bloody mosquito having landed a bite there. Country living can go to hell.

"Your village can't protect you if House Robeur shows up to force the issue." Ramon elaborates, "Its not exactly an isolated location, unlike the canal town I was hiding in."

"Shows what you know. Springvale is plenty isolated." I snort at Ramon's ignorance, "At least during this time of the year. Springvale is located beyond the Granite Pass. And the monsoon rains are coming up."

"The Granite Pass floods every year, right?" Ramon nods in understanding.

"Bingo." I confirm, "Once the flooding starts, Springvale will be cut off for at least three months. Three months of safety is more than enough time for me to get the wheels moving."

"That's not a long term solution though." Ramon shoots back, "You won't be safe once flooding season is over. And what if you can't clear your name?"

"You seem weirdly interested in my plans." I muse, eyes steady on the road ahead of us.

"That's because I have a better one." Ramon raises an index finger for emphasis.

"Oh?" I raise an eyebrow, waiting for my companion's explanation.

"Escort me back to my family's estate." Ramon proposes, "My old man has guards, including his own household bodyguard of magic knights. Both of us would be far safer there."

"Huh." I grunt, "Sounds like you're trying to hire me in a roundabout fashion."

"Sure, think of it that way if you like." Ramon shrugs, "Don't forget that I'm being hunted by the Stabber too. If I testify that you're innocent, it would go a long way in clearing your name."

"Where's your family estate?" I ask, seriously considering Ramon's suggestion. He's right that it would be safer than hiding out at Springvale, and his word would be invaluable in defending me from any accusations from the law.

"The Southland Marsh." Ramon answers, looking slightly uncomfortable, "Please don't give me that look, Mac."

"What look?" I ask, honestly lost at that remark.

"I know the Southland is not the most glamorous of places," Ramon continues heedless to my comment, "but my grandfather was granted that piece of land by the crown, so that's where the estate is."

"Wait, the Southland Marsh was some kind of bandit hideout, right?" I blurt out, understanding dawning on me, "Their leader was amnestied or something if I remember correctly."

"Grandfather bought the amnesty." Ramon murmurs red faced, "He made his money doing his thing and spent it going legit. They even called him the Thousand Copper Baron back in the day."

"Strange nickname." I reply. So Ramon is not just a mostly legitimate businessman, he descends from a line of completely illegitimate businessmen as well. No wonder he's perfectly fine with running that fencing racket back in Deshawn City.

"Grandfather lost some of his teeth in a raid. Some guard punched them out of his mouth." Ramon looks at the orange sun with a wistful expression, "Grandfather got the missing teeth replaced with solid gold ones. Then he went around claiming a thousand coppers was how much his smile was worth."

"Sounds pretty bad ass." I remark with a grin.

"He was." Ramon agrees with a sad smile, "I don't think anyone would regard Grandfather as a good man, but he was a Man. A real man, you know what I mean?"

"Sure do." I affirm and both of us continue riding in peaceful silence, passing fields of crops, swaying in the wind.

"There's another thing though ..." Ramon begins to stutter, looking aside.

"What could be worse than the Stabber?" I snort, shutting my eyes and enjoying Loaner's gentle movement along the dirt road.

"Amanda." Ramon almost groans.

"Who?" I murmur, not getting the sudden shift in the conversation.

"Amanda, my fiancé." Ramon manages to choke out, sounding increasingly distressed.

"Oh right, her." I say, recalling the fiasco of Ramon being dumped, "Please don't tell me she's a serial killer as well."

"What? No!" Ramon hotly denies, "Its just that, the old man might not be terribly pleased with me losing Amanda as my fiancé? As in unhappy enough to throw me out of the house?"

"What's the big deal about this Amanda anyway?" I ask, "I remember you trying to win her back by getting mauled by a bear back in Deshawn City."

"The old man arranged the marriage to Amanda for me." Ramon groans, rubbing his glabella, "Getting his son married to a noble girl was the next step in fulfilling his own father's dream. Pulling this family out of the swamp muck."

"And when you say noble girl, you mean -?" my voice trails off, waiting for Ramon to fill in the blanks.

"Amanda's a member of the royal magic knights." Ramon makes a noise akin to a dying gladiator.

"Ouch." I drily comment.

"So you get it then?" Ramon looks pleadingly at me, "I need someone to confirm with the old man that this is not my fuck up."

"But it is your fuck up." I snigger, "A royal magic knight is not going to put up with a whoremongering sex addict for a husband."

"Look, just -" Ramon gets an increasingly distressed expression on his face.

"Relax. I'm just messing with you." I reassure, "I'll tell your father how you tried to woo Amanda by engaging in mortal combat with a dire bear. That should be good enough to show how hard you tried, right?"

"Thanks, Mac. I really mean it." Ramon exhales in relief, "Thanks."

"And here I thought you fought the bear because you loved Amanda." I begin to snigger again, prompting Ramon to punch me in the shoulder.

"Its not like that." Ramon huffs, "I don't hate Amanda, not in the least. She's a nice person. Its just that, this marriage isn't about her."

"Yeah. There's larger issues at stake." I nod, "I've got a condition to helping you out though."

"Sure. Name it." Ramon answers easily.

"We stopover at Springvale first while we're on the way." I say, "The monsoon rains are going to start soon, and I want to check on my family before going to the land of the swamp people."

"What if we get cutoff by the floods?" Ramon frowns.

"It'll just be a quick layover." I explain, "One, two days at most. We might get caught in the rain, but the floods will take longer than that to build."

"What's the real reason you want to go to Springvale, Mac?" Ramon asks, fixing me with an even look.

"The Stabber claimed Springvale burned down." I say uneasily, "Burned down by the King of the Mountain, some local bandit leader. Now I know the King of the Mountain was killed by the Order, making this story a whole pile of crap, but -"

"You need to know for sure." Ramon concludes, "I understand. Sparing a few days to check is no skin off my nose, Mac."

"Thanks." I smile in gratitude, "Shall we get going then?"

"After you." Ramon replies graciously.

And we spur our horses, galloping toward the horizon.