One Moo'r Plow

Once more, I was returned to Castle Ironmoor, to stand before the Baron and wrestle help from his iron fist. Well, to be more accurate, I was seated across the table from him, untouched scones and heated wakebrew on a plate before me.

Cold though the man was, no one could accuse Londor Ironmoor of being uncourteous to his guests. Even if he merely went through the motions, the perceived hospitality was still there.

“And so you have returned to me.” He spoke, leaned to the side, jaw propped against his fist. This was the most hint of anything other than steel-backed discipline I had ever seen from the man. He had remained so as I recounted the warbands’ attack on the camp and reported on their now-deceased state.

“Do you wish for a reward now that you have cleaned up your own mess?”

Harsh words from a harsh man. I expected little else.

“You think I come before you to ask of something? No, I came out of good will to warn you that more are coming. Larger, better organized and more experienced warbands of proven and tested minotaurs, all aimed to flood your lands. I would be a very poor neighbor indeed if I learned this and did not inform you.”

“Vassal.” He corrected me, tone sharp. “You are no lord of the land to be my neighbor.”

Not yet, anyway.

“You live on land sold to you from my subjects, land that I allow you to farm.”

“Land that will soon be overrun by bloodthirsty berserkers that care little for what or whom stands in their way.”

Left hand laid on the table, he drummed several fingers on the immaculate surface as he considered my words.

“You have made it obvious that these beasts arrive here to kill one thing: You.”

“They do.”

“You are then the focal point of all troubles that are to follow. The cause of the blood that will run across my lands, bleed my subjects and whet my fields.”

He was not incorrect, not entirely.

“It would be an insult to your intelligence if you were to state it so simply.” I retorted. “Removing me would not deter their warpath here, not would offering up my head to them.”

“Ah yes. The forsaken Godtouched status.I’ve half a mind to just pull my men back and let this entire debacle be sorted out amongst you savages.”

“And once it is over? Do you think they will simply leave peacefully?”

There was a cold smile upon the man’s lips as he spoke now.

“Of course not. They will fight amongst themselves, slay each other for the honor or wearing your title, steal lives and be cut down as it all devolves into savagery and blood and war.”

It was then that I realized what he implied.

“They will be weakened. Bled. And then you step in and wipe them all away.”

“Were I a heartless man who cared little for my subjects, then that would be my plan. Yet I have not cultivated years of trust and respect among those who lay their lives in my hands to throw it all away now. Not even for something so satisfying and wiping away masses of those savages.”

With that, the door to the antechamber creaked open and the baroness swept inside, her beaming smile a stark contrast to the looks on mine and Londor’s faces. I sat silently, just a tad awkward as the baron reassured his wife that we had no need of refills and more refreshments. Out of politeness, I took a sip from my untouched wakebrew and found it rather sweet.

Gods Above I had not tasted sugar in so long.

With a gulp, I drained the entire cup and politely interjected that I would be happy with more.

The next cup I sipped with much more polite restraint, savoring the long-lost pleasure of having sugar hit my veins and inject that quick, cheap high of dopamine. Only once the baroness had swept away once more did talk resume between us.

“The fact that they are drawn her to you remains unchanged.”

“And only because it was I that laid low the Arn’thema godling and stopped the dungeon from overflowing in a tide of death. Had it been another, they would have come as well.”

“That much I will concede.” He admitted, albeit begrudgingly. “So you have come here for my help.”

“Not at all.” I lied. “I sit before you not to plead for your help, but simply to tell you of what comes. What action you take is up to you.”

And by giving him that information, I was banking on that he would be forced to act in order to protect his land and subjects.

“You’re a sly one, minotaur.” He spoke and stood, his voice cold. “I despise that. Hate the treacherous roundabout plots and hidden words. You would be a fine member of the royal court. At home among those snakes.”

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

I realized my mistake. He was not one to respect subtlety. Saw through it just fine, but had little use for it himself.

“Fine.” I admitted. “I came here to warn you, first and foremost. Whatever tensions there are between us, innocents do not deserve to die because of them. I alone knew of the coming warpath, and chose to share that information with you. Yet I will not slight your intelligence and claim I need nothing from you.”

“And what is it that you would come before me and ask? What might I possibly have that you yourself cannot replicate with your newfound wealth and brute strength?”

“Experience. I do not need an object or magical artifact, I need a person. Valencia.”

“Then you have come to the wrong man. She slipped her leash long ago. I’ve not seen or heard from her since.”

That, I could work on. I had some idea of where she was, but I needed a way to contact her.

“I suspect she roams the dungeon currently.” I forfeited mention of our encounter at my farm, or that it had been her that butchered the warband. I had not directly claimed credit for that, simply let it be implied.

“Then I know of a place where a message to her may be found.”

“You know where she will be but aren’t seeking to get her back on the proverbial leash?” I asked, mostly out of curiosity. The baron did not seem the type of man to let his retainers run free.

“You have much to understand about her.” Londor Ironmoor stroked at the fine stubble of a beard on his jaw. “I was happy to have her expertise and blade while it was available. But she is gone now, and no amount of force or threats or anything under this sky will ever compel Valencia into service she does not want.”

“It is no secret she acted in my name, on my orders. But understand that no matter how tight the leash, once it has snapped and once that contained on it tastes freedom, it is never going back on.”

The fact that Irnomoor was willing to let someone as powerful as Valencia go meant that either I had miscalculated something about the man or that Valencia was even more dangerous than all the plethora of reasons I had to fear her.

The safe step here would be to assume both.

Neither of us had a direct way to contact the dreadknight, and I was wholly unwilling to venture into the dungeon’s vast expanse on some slim chance of finding her. So, our most viable solution was to simply leave a note and hope she read it wherever Irnomoor delivered it.

A simple scrap of parchment stating that I wanted to talk at the farm and signed by myself was what I handed to the baron. He folded it in half and told me it would be delivered with due haste.

With that, my business here was at an end. I went through the motions of offering my due respect to my host for his hospitality and left, leaving the man to his plans. The full, standing army he had raised here would come in handy sooner rather than later.

This might be an unwelcome addition to his already full plate of troubles, but I suspected it might be one he could deal with best. A direct threat in his face and enemy to fight steel in hand seemed much simpler than the maneuvers and machinations of politics that had him on edge.

With that in mind, I left the Baron’s fortress behind and set on my way back to Hullbretch. I would have to rest the night once more, then continue the journey back home. While being so far away made it harder for the Baron and his forces to trouble me if they wished, it did make the journey to have any dealings with him inconveniently long.

Yet this was not the only trip-up I would experience with what little remained of today. Hours later, I wandered up to the gates of Hullbretch and found there waited someone for me.

The thin, pale smile of Ser Tollish greeted me just inside the town’s walls. Leaned against the stables, the human straightened as I came into sight. Not someone I expected to see. Were the lord and lady Pratt still in the area?

The stench of disdain and hatred was barely noticeable now as the knight courteously greeted me and asked how my journey had been. I wondered if my response mattered to him at all once he nodded and communicated that someone wished to speak with me on a private matter. Only if I had time, of course. That last part brought up a flare of dislike and simmer of hatred in the knight’s scent.

Not at me, strangely enough. The pleasant expression never faltered as he bade me to follow along, then led me to a small townhouse.

I very nearly stopped while stooping through the door once I saw who awaited me within.

The Lady Ramsey-Pratt looked up with a veiled smile and ushered me inside, her words causing a flare of emotion in the knight behind me. There was no page to announce her lengthy titles this time. In fact, there was no one here at all. Ser Tollish remained outside, I found as the door closed behind me.

“What do you want?” I grunted. I was too tired for any dances of words, and that point was not going to find itself.

She tutted, of course, waved me to sit down on too-small chairs that held slight coats of dust. As did most everything in here. Hadn’t been used in quite some time. Once again, I went through the entire several-minute phase of introductions and asking how my day had been and if I would care for some refreshments. All a waste of time until the actual meat of the matter arrived.

“My dear,” She demured, voice as smooth as silk. “You possess talents I have a need for. Can offer services I would find..most valuable.”

Finally.

“And what are those?” I uttered, arms folded across my chest.

“You are strong. Fearless. Not afraid to stand up to petty tyrants like Londor.”

This raised a proverbial eyebrow in my brain. My face remained unchanged, however.

“And how might these traits benefit you?”

“This land is..unstable. Ripe for change. Perhaps when the dust settles, the new leadership will have reason to look on you favourably. You have reason enough to dislike Londor, I’ve gathered. He despises your kind, has provoked you before. Help me, and you’ll not worry about that again.”

My mind raced at that. She couldn’t know about the warbands coming. Not yet anyway. So far, only I and Londor possessed that information. What she spoke of was something else. Something decidedly more human.

And I wanted none of that. I needed to make that clear. Now, before she spilled any more information and became invested in maintaining my silence.

“If you speak of treason against baron Ironmoor, speak to someone else. I’ve enough troubles without being dragged into your mess and politics.”

I leaned forward and looked her dead in the eyes, smelling the surge of fear and excitement in her scent as her heart skipped a beat.

“Stay far, far away from me and mine, and I will forget what you are planning here.”

With that veiled threat, I turned and left, Ser Tollish’s scent smelling of merriment once more as I passed. I had enough problems on my platter, and only a fool would add even more then the feast before me threatened to make a man burst.

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