The night passed uneventfully, but it was oddly comforting to hear Aldo’s gentle snores every time I woke up. He left soon after first light to check on the burn that Fred had set up the night before while Aldo was comforting me.
I poked the ashes of the campfire into life as I watched Agnes do her morning exercise routine of moving large barrels of water around. Once she’d had a chance to bathe she joined me at the fire and we shared a pot of pine needle tea. I wasn’t hugely fond of the taste, which wasn’t a patch on real tea, but Agnes told me that it warded off scurvy so presumably it was full of vitamin C.
Regardless of taste it was nice to have something warm to drink in the morning. I realised as we chatted about nothing that I had absolutely zero desire to leave the camp that day and I had an excellent excuse not to.
“I’m going to stick around the camp today and wash the clothes that we looted,” I said.
“That’s a good idea. This close to the mountains you don’t get much warning of a change in the weather,” she said, and then much more quietly, “do you know how to wash clothes? I’ve heard Outlanders have devices.”
“I know how to wash the shirt and the trousers with a bar of soap,” I said. My mother had insisted that I learn to hand-wash delicates just in case I ever owned anything that required it. “I don’t know how to get blood and sweat off a leather jerkin though.”
“I can show you that. See if you can get some of the good soap off Fred. He and Aldo make it as a side business. Aldo’s is better for the skin, Fred’s is better for getting stains out.”
“I’ve also got this fleece to spin into yarn so I can make all those bags I’ve promised.”
“You want to talk to Mairaid, she’s new to the camp,” Agnes indicated a slight dark skinned woman in the bathing queue. “She only arrived yesterday. I think she wants to level her Tutor skill and if you show her that hooking technique you have and whittle her one of the hooks I think she’d help you with some of the spinning.”
“It’s called crochet,” I said.
“Tell it to Mairaid. I’m sure she’ll care.”
“Is Mairaid properly new to the camp? Like you only just met her yesterday for the first time?”
“Yes,” said Agnes, giving me a quizzical look and clearly wondering where I was going with the question.
“You’ve known her since yesterday but you already know which skills she’s trying to level and what her thoughts are on learning a new craft?”
“A Witch needs to be approachable. I’ve got to keep talking to people if I want to max out my social skills. Also people tend to just reveal everything to me. It comes with the pointy hat. Everyone always assumes that I’ve heard everything and I’m impossible to shock and it’s mostly true.” She stood up. “Now I need to go and change the water and you need to go and bug Fred for some soap. The coins you got off the Murder Hobos should be enough for a small bar.”
#
Staying around the camp all day felt very different than being out in the woods with Jethro. For one thing it meant that I got a feel for how busy the road was. I also began to pick up on a certain tension in all the people travelling on the road. They would sag with relief when they arrived at the camp and recognised that we were all engaged in peaceful pursuits. Even visitors who had expressed an urgent desire to get home seemed reluctant to actually leave the safety of our company.
When Jethro returned that evening he joked with Mairaid that he was jealous of her for keeping me to herself all day. Mairaid took it all in good humour but I did feel like perhaps it wasn’t entirely a joke. Surely he couldn’t have missed me that much. We’d only known each other for three days. But then I did save his life. And I was his ticket to that APPRENTICE perk that he was so desperate to get.
Jethro was at least pleased to see me wearing the Murder Hobo clothes. “How does it feel to have your first proper outfit?” he said.
“Still not happy about the dead men’s clothes thing but it is nice to have pockets.” The breeches had large pockets both front and back. The Jerkin had many pockets both small and large, perfect for carrying tools or snacks or things found while foraging.
“I knew that jerkin was right for you,” said Jethro. “You look like a proper Scavenger now."
#
In the days that followed I fell into a routine. I would work with Jethro in the woods most days, spend my evening working on my tools or crocheting net bags. Whenever someone stopped at the camp who was willing to teach me a skill I would spend a day with them. Several times a week I practised with my Messer and sparred with the others, unarmed of course. I was surprised that it was possible to level up through such practice but I hit level 2 with both UNARMED COMBAT and BASIC WEAPONS.
I became popular with the regulars at the camp. I could cook, I usually found something to contribute to the communal meal and I worked hard to be good company.
We had no trouble with Murder Hobos, perhaps because the camp was too big. Agnes explained to me that Murder Hobo groups are usually small. They simply can’t get on with other people well enough to sustain large groups. They also tend to be low level. They either fall out and slaughter each other before they get the levels they were willing to kill for or they tidy themselves up a bit and become “respectable” mercenaries or bodyguards.
The one time we did have to deal with someone dangerous it wasn’t a murder hobo or one of the campers turning violent.
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
We knew there might be trouble coming when a heavily pregnant woman stumbled into the camp with a scarf held tightly across her face. She absolutely should not have been walking any distance that late in pregnancy. Agnes immediately fussed over her, checking on her health and the health of her unborn child.
I hung the big teapot from the A-frame and started on one of the medicinal tea recipes that Agnes had taught me. I had unlocked the HERBALIST skill chain in my personal quest to get to ALCHEMY and I could brew up to level 3 infusions. It wasn’t like a healing potion or anything but I could make a tea that would treat nausea, calm heightened emotions, and contained a mild analgesic (that’s fancy medical talk for a painkiller). I bunged in some rosehip syrup because sweet things are good for shock and topping up her vitamin C levels couldn’t hurt.
The woman was reluctant to talk to anyone. Even Agnes. But she let the scarf drop and we all saw the bruising. That was how we knew there was trouble coming. All she would say was she was fine but she needed to leave.
When I brought the tea, Agnes pulled me aside for a chat in private.
“I think she’s been beaten,” she said.
“I’m sure she has,” I said. “It may only have started recently. Back home it was very common for it to start during pregnancy.”
“It’s common here too,” said Agnes. “She’s in no state to go anywhere tonight. She’s clearly terrified that whoever did that to her is coming.”
“Then they’re going to regret not letting her go,” I said.
Agnes grinned. At least I think it was a grin. She might just have been showing off her impressive teeth. She went back to the pregnant woman and I went to speak to Jethro, Aldo and Fred.
There were other people in the camp that I could have spoken to and I’m sure they would have been ready to defend a stranger but I knew for a fact that Jethro and Aldo could kill if they had to and Fred was a wriggly bastard who was a complete pain in the arse to spar with. Also Fred was huge, even bigger than Agnes, and maybe intimidating enough that we wouldn’t have to kill anyone.
We dragged a couple of log benches and a few lanterns over to the entrance of the camp.
“Should we try and look busy?” said Aldo
“You mean, like, act casual?” I said.
“If we’re trying to intimidate him shouldn’t we be trying to look like we’re expecting him?” said Fred.
“I say we do both,” said Jethro. He pulled out his whetstone and started sharpening his axe.
I realised that my Messer was probably overdue for sharpening.
Before long we were all sharpening our various tools and weapons. Soon after that we were enjoying sharing tool maintenance tips so much that we’d almost forgotten why we were all sitting there. It was all very pleasant until suddenly it wasn’t.
When he arrived, the stranger looked very ordinary. He looked like more of a Townie than a rural type, farmers usually have more colour in their cheeks and more muck under their fingernails, but he was otherwise unremarkable. Just a dude on his way somewhere. Except that he wasn’t on his way somewhere. He was looking for someone.
If I’d had any doubt that this was the man we were expecting they would have disappeared when I realised that he had no pack and his knuckles were all scratched and bruised. I sat up straighter and wiped the oil from the blade of my Messer.
Fred stood up, “Can I help you?” he said.
“I’m looking for my wife,” said the man. “We got separated while travelling. I think she was headed this way. I wondered if she might have come to sit by your fire.”
“I don’t think so,” said Fred. “The only unaccompanied woman we’ve seen today was heavily pregnant. I shouldn’t think anyone would willingly travel in that state.”
“That’s her!” said the man. “Is she still here?”
“Really?” I said. “You dragged your wife out into the woods when she’s ready to give birth at any minute and you didn’t even bring a tent?”
“That seems very careless,” said Jethro.
“It was her idea, the silly cow,” said the man, his veneer of compassion beginning to slide off. “I told her we should stay at home but she wouldn’t listen.”
“Well she’s listening now,” I said. “To the Witch. Who is taking good care of her. And the Witch says that you need to fuck off home.”
“That’s my wife. She’s giving birth to my child. I need to be there,” said the man and tried to push his way past us. Fred pushed him back and he fell over.
“You were told to fuck off home,” said Fred. “Is there some part of those instructions that you’re having difficulty with?”
The stranger scrambled up from the ground and threw himself at Fred screaming a lot of words that I did not know but from the way he said them they had to be slurs.
Aldo pulled him away from Fred. The stranger caught Aldo on the side of the head with a flailing elbow. Aldo looked a bit stunned. Fred backhanded the man halfway across the road.
The stranger was instantly back on his feet.
I drew my Messer and prepared to cut something off, if that’s what it was going to take to convince him to actually fuck off home. Before I could do anything he saw something over my shoulder that made his eyes go wide and caused him to start backing away.
I looked back and it was Agnes, striding our way, wand in hand. She was pretty intimidating at the best of times but all trace of her usual genial expression was gone and she was utterly terrifying.
She didn’t say anything but green tendrils left her wand and darted past me. I turned to see the tendrils hit, not the stranger, but the trees on the other side of the road.
The trees sprouted green new branches, vines grew out of the ground, both branches and vines reached for the stranger. In less than a minute he was swallowed by a tangle of plant-life. The more he struggled the tighter the vines bound him.
The tree limbs pulled him inexorably back until he was suspended between the two trees, completely enmeshed in vine and branch with only his face showing.
He was still alive. I could see him wriggling and hear the faint and muffled sounds of him trying to shout something.
“We were going to deal with him,” said Aldo.
“I know you were but now he’s dealt with my way,” said Agnes. I barely understood her. Anger had turned her voice into a rumble like an avalanche.
“What happened?” said Jethro, face full of concern and all of it for Agnes.
“You don’t understand. She’s covered in burns,” said Agnes.
“What?” said Fred, putting an arm around her shoulder.
“I got her to open her dress, so I could examine the baby, and she’s covered in burns. He’s been burning her with the fire poker and she’s been letting him because he said if she didn’t he’d make her lose the baby.” Tears streamed down Agnes’ face as she spoke.
I felt a stab of rage so powerful that I wanted to spread it around by stabbing the stranger a few times. The only reason that I didn’t was that I thought that might be doing him a favour. Instead I threw my arms around Agnes and hugged her as she cried. We all did. And when we’d finished we went to see if the pregnant woman needed any additional help.
We left the stranger in the trees. Best place for him.