The Butcher of Gadobhra

Theordis had not expected such a fine little Inn in such a small, out-of-the-way town. They had been greeted by the Innkeeper and his staff as if they were nobility and shown to quite comfortable rooms on the 3rd floor overlooking the town. Hot baths were already prepared for them, and dinner would be served in an hour. A bottle of wine was brought to each room, along with an assortment of cheese and fruit. Theordis cautioned them all. "This is all fine, and I'm going to enjoy the hospitality, but remember why we are here. I want one guard on the third floor, one in the stables, and two in the dining room."

The scribes had been given small rooms on the second floor. Each of those also had a bottle of wine but lacked cheese. Instead of an assortment of fruit, there were bowls of apples. No baths were brought to them, but they freshened up as best they could with the basins and pitchers of cold water left for them. It was more than they expected. Most of the time, they all slept in the same room or with the guards in the stables. An hour later, they waited for their superiors in the hallway to go down to dinner, but Theordis stopped them.

"You are not needed tonight, nor do I wish you following on my heels or having to look at the three of you. I see your sad faces enough as it is. The innkeeper will send something to your rooms." The taxmen descended to the dining hall, leaving three sad scribes on the 2nd floor. They all went to Kenneth's room and took the wine with them. Dinner didn't seem forthcoming, probably because Theordis had neglected to send anything to them. They opened a bottle and contented themselves with apples.

Davao smiled wryly. "Another exciting night in the imperial service. Another 17 years, eight months, and 13 days and I can retire to the good life being the top man in some wretched village."

"If it were this village, I wouldn't mind." Kenneth had only seen part of Sedgewick so far, but it seemed clean and prosperous. The people working were pleasant and hardworking. He'd seen shops specializing in things that much larger cities didn't have. It was prosperous, with the dungeons they had heard of attracting adventurers and producing money and magical items. Adventurers were a boon to any economy. They spent gold on anything they fancied, always assured that they could gain larger and larger amounts from dungeons and quests. And lately, that had proven true. The economy of the empire was changing, at least to his eye.

Vincent took a bit of an apple and compared its taste to the wine. They had to have some wonderful orchards nearby. "It won't be, though. It will have 400 illiterate farmers, and you'll only be a big shot because you'll own your house and be the one collecting the taxes. You'll pick out the best looking farmer's-daughter for a wife and try to ignore your in-laws. I used to think we had a chance at advancement, but the system only works if you know someone. Otherwise, we're stuck in a slow-moving promotional system that literally requires people to retire or die."

Kenneth twirled the wine in his glass and thought about the beautiful lights in the village square. "Did you notice the fairy lamps? My grandmother told me about them. They protect the town from monsters and are a sign of friendship with the Fae. The mayor is half-elven, do you think she knows the Fae? I always imagined I'd go traveling someday and meet exotic races and people."

"And drink their wine." Vincent had decided he needed to see the orchards. "I grew up making wine—grapes, of course. We had no idea you could make an apple wine this fine. But that's obviously not something I'm supposed to talk about around my betters."

"You never learn, do you? You can't be good at anything without either Manfred or Theordis being better. At least Manfred just tries to one-up you; Theordis has to kick you back down to the bottom of the dung heap." Kenneth was looking out the window. The fairy lamps of the village were glowing brightly, lighting the town. As the lighting changed, he caught a vision of a wonderful tree in the distance as tall as the sky. And then it was gone again. He opened the window and looked at the roof below. A short drop, a slide, and he could be on the ground. "I'm going for a walk. I want to see the lights and look for a tree."

Vincent followed Kenneth out the window. "We'll say we went looking for the dinner that they couldn't be arsed to send to us. Grab your bottle and follow, or stay here like a good little boy and dream of a fat farm girl you'll marry someday." Davao hesitated for a moment, then followed.

All of them navigated their escape with ease. They were all under thirty years of age and got regular exercise. They wandered the town, drinking their wine and greeting the inhabitants. The town square had the feeling of a small party. People were talking and eating. They visited the little kobold and spent money on a fine dinner of some type of meat, vegetables, and spices wrapped in flour tortillas. They were happy to have the wine to quench the fire.

An hour later, they were walking in the meadows beyond the village, drawn further and further toward the small glimpses they got of the tall tree. The grass turned a lighter color and was speckled with flowers. Vincent knelt and took a handful of soil. It was fine and black, like the soil of his father's vineyards. And the land was empty. Further on and they came to the orchards. Majestic apple trees grew in a wild orchard, with ripe fruit heavy on the trees. Each of them grabbed an apple and bit into it. Their senses swam, and the world seemed to have too many colors. They heard laughter coming from the trees.

The hound found the three scribes lying in the grass with a bevy of young dryads enchanting them. He barked to send the silly things away, laughing and dancing. He barked three times and then kept watch. Just as their senses returned, the three young men saw a man riding toward them. His garments were of green and yellow silk, and he wore a silver coronet in his long golden hair. The unicorn he rode danced to a halt near enough that Kenneth could have reached out and stroked its silvery mane. "Greetings to you this night, travelers. Lucky it is that my hound found you. You might have ended up taking root and becoming part of the orchard." He smiled, and no one was sure if he was serious.

Kenneth bowed and kicked the others. He was trying to remember the rules. "You have a fine hound, lord. We are happy to make his acquaintance."

The Summer Lord bowed. They were polite. He was trying to remember the rules Suzette had given him for talking with mortals. 'Small talk' was a tricky bit of diplomacy. "I am traveling but haven't picked a destination. I will be happy to walk with you where you going. There can be ill things at night with sharp teeth. It is always better to travel in a group." The squirrels certainly fit that description. Several travelers had met their demise. These men didn't have the look of warriors.

Vincent was very drunk, or he might not have had to courage to speak. "That's our problem. We are headed nowhere, with nothing waiting at the end except a boring retirement."

The other's mumbled similar statements. Alwyn looked into their hearts and saw discontent, hurt pride, and a longing for sunlit vineyards, a home in a fine village, and travel to other places. "Far be it from me to advise anyone. I've traveled odd paths myself. But if you don't like the road you are traveling, perhaps you should find a better road."

Davao thought about that. "Difficult. I can see where I want to be but not how to get there. I like my work, but I want to have pride in it. I don't want to cheat innocent mayors and work for men who only think of gold."

Alwyn looked at Vincent. "I want something different. I thought I wanted to move up to a better position in life, but I realized I was just getting away from my father. He would never give me land to grow my grapes and make my wine. Look at that land! The soil is perfect for vineyards. I'm half tempted to run to the Baron, but he won't take in a scribe who worked for the people trying to extort him."

Kenneth looked at the tree. "I want to go someplace else. I want to know where that stair around the tree goes."

The hound looked at the Summer Lord and judged each of the men. The Summer Lord accepted his judgment. "Perhaps you might find your road, and mine are the same. I am Alwyn, Lord of Summer, and we should talk." The three scribes followed him as the unicorn led them to the tree, much farther away and much larger than they had expected. Around the tree they went, climbing the tree until they came to a villa hidden in the branches. "I bid you enter of your own free will. An offer I will make. You may refuse politely and leave or stay. The hound will ensure it is of your own free will.

The offers were simple. The Summer Lord needed three things: The first was a scribe to assist with the trade of goods to the Baron of Gadobhra. Someone to travel back and forth between his realm and the baron's and arrange the shipments and keep track of the details.

The second was someone with a vision for his much-expanded realm. Alwyn had large areas of unicorn meadows, but he'd prefer vineyards. There was never enough wine.

Third, he needed a human steward to travel his lands and bring order to them. Humans were all the rage at court. The man he chose would need to travel and visit the realms of other Fae Lords.

"I offer this: A house here in my realm, three fine suits of clothes each year, a bag of gold on the king's birthday, and an elven steed to aid your travels. In return, you will help manage my lands and my trade and obey me in all things."

Twitterberry was called to witness the documents and take copies to the Baron and the King. Plans were made for a quaint village, a twin to the one in the mortal lands. Finally, their new Lord asked them many questions about their former employers. They had many stories to tell, names to name, and small details to include. The details were sent to the Summer Lords' ally, the Baron of Gadobhra.

Morning came bright and early in the lands of the Summer Lord. The hang-overs were fierce, but Twitterberry brought a cure for all of them. He and his Lord also suffered after conversing long into the night and drinking with the Baron. The ex-scribes walked out of the quaint house into the lands of the Fae and began their work.

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