Wenry tells us that the villages are a day’s ride from one another. Walking, the men won’t arrive until tomorrow afternoon, giving them plenty of time to prepare for their nightly assault. We, however, moving at a much quicker pace, manage to make it to the mining village by sunset.
The village is incredibly small, with only a handful of buildings to support it, none of them constructed with the occupants’ comfort in mind. There are three long buildings near the village well that, from the lines of laundry hung near it and the few children playing about the entrances, house the residents.
Communal housing. The thought makes me shiver but it is often done in new villages constructed near natural resources as temporary housing for the workers. From the number of patchwork repairs on the roofs, they’ve been around far longer than intended.
The best-looking buildings are the row of forges. I imagine the builders took more care with them, as an improperly built forge can kill. Or, more likely, the lord financing this village passed out a few extra crowns as iron ore and metalwork are where he gets his money.
Alongside them are a few other buildings I imagine are other workshops. North of them is a lumberyard where several logs are present and beside it is a small stable.
In the middle of the village, dividing the two groupings of buildings but closer to the residences, is the only building with multiple floors. It is a mix between a manor and an administrative building. Built of sturdy but drab gray stone no noble would want to come home to, only the highest floor is painted white, the color fading and dirty. The elegant sloping roof is made of wood and its highest floor has windows of glass, an unnecessary expense for a purely utilitarian building.
It’s not uncommon for a building in a small village to serve multiple purposes but this is the first time I’ve seen it displayed so prominently. Frankly, I think it looks a bit ridiculous. If I had to guess, whichever little man put in place to run the village by the governing lord wanted a fancy house but wasn’t given the budget for a private residence. Hence, the architectural monstrosity before me.
The whole of the village is surrounded by a fence made of wooden spikes and rope. Honestly, no good for keeping out anything other than pests. It only comes up to my waist. Even before my transformation, I’d have no problem climbing over it. If I couldn’t be bothered to saw through the ropes.
The man standing at the entrance might be more of a deterrent. I say might because he’s not too intimidating, despite the spear in his hand. He looks far too nervous, tossing his gaze about the surroundings every so often. The look of a guilty man. I suppose they aren’t so stupid as to believe Wenry’s village will take the theft of their food lightly.
He sees us right away and tenses. The hand on the shaft of his spear tightens but he makes no threatening motions. I suppose two women carrying a child don’t come off as a threat, even if one of them is visibly armed.
“Halt!” he shouts once we’re in range of the average person to hear. He even raises a hand to emphasize the order. “State your business.”
“Bring me to whoever’s in charge,” Alana snaps without slowing. The poor sentry attempts to stand in her way and gets knocked aside with an outstretched arm. He gapes at us as we pass into the village, likely wondering how a girl just brushed him aside so easily. To be fair, he isn’t that much taller than her and is on the lanky side. He looks like a stiff breeze could knock him over.
It doesn’t take him long to regain his senses and he runs after us. “Hey! Stop! I’m telling you to stop or—"
Alana turns on her heels, making the man stumble as he tries not to run into her. “Or what? This is your chance to detain me, if you think you’re up to it.”
He shrinks back in the face of her confidence but only for a moment. Then his features harden and a hand reaches for her. “I’m not going to hit you. Just come with me.”
She punches him.
The poor man’s head snaps to the side as he stumbles. A hand hovers over his bleeding lip as he stares at her with wide eyes. “Saints, what’d you hit me for?!”
“You were attempting to detain me and I decided I didn’t want to go. Isn’t that how this village settles problems? With force?”
He stiffens, his gaze turning wary. “Who are you?”
She ignores his question and heads for the most prominent building in the center of the village. The sentry smartly doesn’t try to stop her again, keeping pace with us while shooting cautious glances at Alana. He rushes ahead of us to open the door to the main building, holding it open as we pass.
It looks like…a meeting hall? There is a table with two benches sat before it, a perfect design for holding court. But it seems to also double as a guardhouse. I only say that because there is a rack of five spears against one wall. The weapons are usually kept near the people meant to be using them.
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
Only one person is present, a gruff middle-aged man seated at the table at the back of the room smoking a pipe. He looks up as the door opens, furrowing heavy brows. “What’s this?” he rasps. “You showing off to your girlfriends, brat?”
Before I have time to express my disgust or the sentry can get over his embarrassment to correct his likely superior, Alana raises her voice. “Are you in charge of this village?”
The man huffs. “For now.”
“What does for now mean? Are you or are you not the head of the village?”
“I think it’s my turn to ask a question, little lady. Who are you and why shouldn’t I throw you out of this village on your ass?”
“…my name is Alana James. I’ve been asked to intercede in a certain matter. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you which one.”
The man sits up straighter. “Saints’ blessed asses, I didn’t think that little weasel was telling the truth.”
“The truth?”
“Our village head said he was going to Victory to see if he could buy enough food for the winter. I thought he was just slipping off and leaving us to deal with the mess ourselves but lo and behold, a James in our humble little village. I suppose I should be honored.”
Despite his words, the man doesn’t seem too impressed with Alana. The feeling is mutual. I can tell from her frown that he isn’t making the best impression.
“You’ve yet to introduce yourself.”
“Oh, pardon. My ma would tan my ass if she saw me forgetting such basic manners. Borick, the leader of the village militia, which is usually one man.”
“Then, Borick.” Alana comes to a stop. “I’m afraid I’m not here on behalf of the village head. I am here on behalf of Wenry.”
“Wenry?”
“A girl from the neighboring village you robbed.”
Unlike the sentry, Borick doesn’t show a guilty expression when faced with his crime. Instead, he lets out a heavy sigh that moves his shoulders and sets down his pipe. “Suppose you’re here to right wrongs and punish villains.”
“Then there’s no need to explain.”
“Hmph. You Victory bastards are all the same.” He scratches his thick beard. “Is there any chance you could walk away, girl? I don’t want any problems with your family but we won’t be giving up that food. I feel bad for our neighbors but my responsibility is to my people.”
“No chance at all. There is a chance to settle this peacefully. Stand down and tell your men to assemble all the food you stole.”
“Seems we’re at an impasse.”
There’s a beat of tense silence.
I step back as he rushes forward, keeping an eye on the sentry. Alana raises her fists and weaves out of the way of the blow, countering with a punch to his side. He grunts but it isn’t enough to stop him. He swings at her again, stronger and faster. Guess he was holding back but one hit was enough to convince him he doesn’t have the luxury.
It’s a struggle not to get involved as I watch Alana get surprised by a kick. What allows me to keep myself in check is the knowledge that she isn’t really in danger. I doubt the lucky shot will even bruise and she follows up with a punch that sends the bigger man stumbling backwards. From the beginning, she’s been taking charge. Clearly, she wants to handle the situation so I’ll let her have her moment.
After a minute of exchanging blows, Borick, face bloodied by a busted nose and lip, charges at Alana sloppily with outstretched hands, likely hoping to use his size against her. Alana calmly grabs one of his arms and smoothly flips him over her shoulder, the sound of him hitting the floor making the wide-eyed sentry beside me wince.
He stays down but Alana doesn’t end it there. Her sword leaves its sheathe with a sharp ring of metal on metal. She places the blade against his neck, looking down at him with stern eyes. “You just assaulted me. I have every right to kill you.”
“You’re…” He coughs and spits a bloody wad to the side. “Trespassing. Makes you a criminal.”
“A thief calling me a criminal. Hilarious.” The sword is so close, the tiniest bit more will cut his skin. She holds it there for a long breath before lifting it and sheathing the blade. “Thank the saints I have no intention of killing anyone today. Now, tell your man there to gather the food you stole.”
The beaten man grunts. “You heard her.”
When the wide-eyed sentry just continues staring, I prod him by poking his shoulder. “That means you.”
“Huh? Oh, right, right! I’ll do that!” He rushes from the building, likely imagining his own chances against my wife, pending.
Alana holds out a hand to her beaten opponent. When he ignores it in favor of struggling, she grabs him under his arm and hauls him to his feet, marching him to the table and throwing him into the seat he previously occupied. With another grunt of pain, he takes up his pipe.
We’re back where we started. Honestly, the man could have saved himself some pain if he listened.
Seeing him settled, Alana comes over to me. I reach out and wipe away a spot of blood on her cheek. “You alright?”
“Fine.” She holds out her hands for Wenry and I pass along the girl with starstruck eyes. “When the food gets here, bring it up. I’m guessing the top floor of the building is the residence of the village head. We’ll stay here for tonight while we wait for the others to arrive.”
“You’re the boss.”
Her lips briefly curl in a smile before smoothing out. “Since the man in charge of this village has seen fit to abandon his responsibilities, I believe we can assume he’s also abandoned his possessions. I doubt it’ll measure up to your thrall’s cooking but I’m sure he has something decent secreted away.”
I’m feeling a little weak in the knees. Who is this daring woman that’s wearing the face of my stern knight? Can she stay? “I think we can come up with something. What are you going to do with the food once we have it?”
“I’m going to make a point. Do you mind keeping an eye on things through the night? They may be foolish enough to try and assault us in our sleep.”
“What makes you think they won’t try and attack us now?”
“Because they’re cowards. They had superior arms but decided to hold women and children hostage. That tells me they’re not confident in their prowess, even against farmers. I’d assume Borick is the strongest they have to offer. After seeing me take him down bare-handed, I doubt that sentry or any of his friends are going to be eager to take me on. At least in a direct confrontation.”
“Which is why you’re worried about dirty tricks at night. Alright, Alana. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it.”