The road outward from the village was rougher. They were heading away from the market town and towards the outskirts of the county. The land became less flat with hills rising now and again and clumps of trees. Stands of crops stood on the sunward slopes of the hill sides but the grazing grounds on the other sides were empty of animals.

Both Zipper and Delta were alert today. Their mysterious night visitors still had them on edge and the view was more restricted by today’s rolling hills than yesterday’s open plains. Gertrude and Hogswabble, Zipper’s new names for the donkeys, were indifferent.

They had stopped at a branch in the road. The ruts clearly led in one direction, but the scribbled map on the back of their orders indicated the side track.

“The fort is still a day away”, said Zipper. “Why would they send us the back way? Are you holding it the right way up?”

Delta experimented, turning the page around. “I’m pretty sure that’s what it’s saying.” She re-read the instructions and looked up at the hills. “I think it’s more about getting to a safe house tonight, then getting to our destination in the most efficient way possible.”

Zipper looked around nervously. “I can’t argue that. If that’s what it is.”

“I’m going to climb up there”, said Delta, pointing to the nearest hill. “If I can see our safe house from there, then we’ll know it’s the right way.”

“Sure”, said Zipper, as she made off. “I’ll just sit here with the bait.” She looked between the donkeys and the pile of bodies lashed to the wagon. “So, Gertrude. For your little snit back there, you’re first on the menu if a troll turns up.” The donkey paid no notice.

Zipper squirmed for a while, and then got up in the seat. She climbed the stacked bodies, which they had moved slightly to provide clear foot holds, to the top of their load. They had a canvas over them to keep off the sun, but the preserve spell seemed to be doing its trick. They felt slightly unpleasant underfoot, but they didn’t stink. At least not to Zipper’s nose. Trolls, however, were supposed to be able to smell human flesh a mile off. And they weren’t picky about alive or dead.

She looked up and down the tracks as best she could. The road turned, and there were thickets and unkempt hedges, so there wasn’t much to see.

With a sigh she clambered back down again and got off the wagon. The donkeys perked up again, wondering if it was feeding time. “Don’t be greedy”, said Zipper. “You’ll get fed when we get to where we’re going. Unless you end of feeding something else.” Their interest was undampened.

She walked a bit of distance down each of the choices and examined the ground. She pressed her fingers and her spear butt into the soil to get an idea of what sort of impressions might be left. But it hadn’t rained in long enough for the soil to be too moist, nor yet long enough for it to become dusty.

“Find anything?” asked Delta.

Zipper leaped through the air and flailed around with her spear, mostly for balance. “Don’t do that!” she admonished.

Delta looked sheepish. “Sorry, I didn’t think I was being that quiet.”

Zipper shook herself and waved exasperatedly. “I can’t even find the tracks of our own wagon, sitting right there.”

“Well, that’s good”, said Delta. “It will make us harder to follow in case anyone is out here.” They both turned as Hogswabble chose that moment to lift his tail and defecate. “In theory.”

Zipper gave the donkey an evil glare. “How about you. Did you find home?”

“I did”, said Delta, brightening. “It’s not that far either.”

“Let’s hop to it”, said Zipper, climbing back on the wagon. “Can’t be too soon.”

The going was slower on the narrower track. From the ruts, the road appeared almost as well travelled, just not as well kept up. Their load also appeared rather wider than the road was used to. With much sighing and cursing Delta was forced at one point to hack a particularly virulent hedge back with her glaive.

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The donkeys plodded on, though. Even when the slope increased as they went up a saddle between two hills they trod with as little enthusiasm as they did on the flat. The two drivers still felt pity and got out and pushed from behind. Zipper didn’t trust either of the donkeys not to suddenly decide enough was enough and stop just as it was beginning to think of getting darker.

They followed on the wagon for a while, catching their breath. “It should be just around the bend up there”, said Delta.

This cheered Zipper up and she moved up past the wagon and took the donkey’s leads. “Good job Gertrude. Maybe we’ll stick with that name. We’ll have you out of that harness and rolling in sweet hay soon.” She looked up and stood stock still. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Delta came up, now that the wagon was stopped. “What’s the problem?” she asked.

Zipper pointed. “Seriously? That’s our safe house?”

Delta looked up. The track rose to the top of the hill. Perched there was a tall windmill. The base was wide, but it tapered off towards the middle and ended in a large platform. This had a rounded top, clearly designed to pivot, and a large axle from which four long blades protruded. They were slatted for sails, but these were currently rolled tight up against the shaft.

“Yeah, hard to miss”, said Delta. “Do you have something against windmills?”

Zipper looked at it suspiciously. “They just have a bad reputation where I come from.”

Delta picked up the reins and started leading the horse. “Come on. Let’s see how secure it is.”

Zipper followed along reluctantly. “It’s OK Hogswabble. It won’t eat you”, she said more to reassure herself rather than the donkey. “At least it isn’t doing the spinny thing.” She cocked her head sideways. “It still looks like it is going to fall over.”

The base and foundation of the windmill were of stone, with a wide hefty door leading inside. This, however, was stoutly barred from the inside. They walked around the outside of the structure but there were no other entrances at ground level. They did find one above the ground, and bolts where a ladder had once been.

Zipper nodded sagely. “Well, it looks very secure. So secure we can’t get in.”

Delta read her instructions again. “Our magic key isn’t going to help us here. How are you at climbing?”

“Terrible”, said Zipper. “You’re the tall, lanky one, not me.”

Delta grunted and tried to hoist herself up on the protruding bolts. However, they were spaced too widely for her to make much progress. “Maybe I could stand on a donkey”, she mused.

Zipper shook her head. “I don’t think they would take well to that.” She scratched her chin. “The ground is too rough to get the whole cart up over this way, but there’s a little ledge going all the way around. See, where the stone ends, and the wood starts. That’s the same level as the door. You might be able to reach the edge from the top of the cart if we bring it up close to the front.”

Delta took a few steps back. “You want me to clamber up there”, she pointed to the front, “and edge my way around on a ledge that’s only a few inches wide.”

Zipper shrugged. “I do not doubt my Captain’s wisdom”, she said.

Delta sighed and trudged back to the cart.

They got it lined up, and from the top it was easy enough for Delta, with a boost up from Zipper, to get up on the ledge. It wasn’t as bad as it looked when she took it slow. After she rounded the side, though, the wind caught her, and she had a moment of worry. Once past that the going was much easier.

The upper door wasn’t bolted, but the latch string had been pulled through. The gap around the edge was generous, though, and Delta was able to lift the latch with her dagger. She was then through and down to the ground floor and getting the bar off the main entrance in no time.

It was a tight fit, but the wagon made it through the entrance without having to unload any of it. The interior was large, with the main turn shaft grounding out in the middle, and a few mill stones attached via gears. There were piles of fodder and rations marked, like the last place, with the sign of the Imperialist scouts. Once they had everything inside, they pulled the doors shut and barred them again.

“We’re in the belly of the beast now”, said Zipper, taking the harnesses off the donkeys. Once they had seen to the animals, they shucked their outer armor and took a long drink themselves.

“There should be quite the view from the top”, said Delta. “We should check it out before the sun sets.”

Zipper looked skeptical. “I don’t know. I’m not here for tourism.”

“I want to get the lay of the land”, said Delta. “If something is going to creep up on us tonight, I want to know the approaches and where the cover is.”

Zipper sighed. “I can’t argue that.”

The floor where Delta had entered was a large kitchen and work area. The floor above that had a bedroom and storage. Above that was mostly consumed with the staircase and central shaft. After that was the level of the platform.

The view from there was, indeed, spectacular. This was the high point of the hills along a low ridge and they could see quite a way in all directions. Most near at hand was the road that approached through a gentle cutting. The far side dropped more steeply, and the ridge line further in that direction was covered in trees.

“That’s where we have to watch for”, said Delta. “Those trees will obscure any approach in that direction. They go right up to that low wall, which would give cover nearly to the mill yard. Just as well they gave us bows, though. Plenty of angles of fire. How are you at the bow?”

“Terrible”, said Zipper. Delta gave her a look. Zipper shrugged and waved her hands about. “Short arms!”

Delta smiled and looked back out over the scene. “Well, I hope it doesn’t come to that.” The sun was starting to set and long shadows stretched over the landscape. “It sure looks pretty from up here”, she said.

“And empty”, added Zipper. “Empty is good.”