Chapter 166: One – You Can See The Forest Because the Trees Are Chopped Down

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Chapter One Hundred and Sixty-One - You Can See The Forest Because the Trees Are Chopped Down

I asked around the Beaver for anyone interested in coming with us. In the end, Steve and Gordon both volunteered to stay aboard the ship, and Clive insisted that no amount of partying was more enjoyable than a few hours spent sleeping in his bunk.

So, with the lumberjacks leading the way, Amaryllis, Awen, Bastion and I carried a few platters and plates with us as we headed towards the lumber camp.

We didn’t have that much interesting food, just a bit of salty meat and some bread and some meat in glass jars filled with yellowish vinegar. Bastion was carrying a heavy bag full of veggies, and Amaryllis had a box of nuts that rattled with every step.

“Hey, Amaryllis?” I asked as I skipped over a bit of rough ground. The area looked nice and hilly from afar, but in reality it was filled with pits and dips in the terrain, with large roots poking out of the ground to snare passing ankles and ruts just waiting for a careless foot to drop into them.

It was pretty obvious that the entire area had been a forest not so long ago. That... was kind of disheartening.

“What?” Amaryllis asked.

I couldn’t tell if she was in a good mood or not. “Why is so much of the food aboard the Beaver seed?”

Amaryllis huffed. “Seeds and nuts are a delicacy among us harpies. You ought to just enjoy them without complaint.”

“You have bird seed?” I asked.

She puffed up. “They’re nuts!”

I nodded. “You really are.”

It took a moment for the joke to register, but when it did, Amaryllis was quick to toss her box atop Bastion’s back so that she had free arms to swat me with.

I giggled as I moved on ahead and skipped over to the lumberjacks to be out of her reach.

Edmund served as my shield until Amaryllis calmed down a bit and returned to carrying her precious bird seed.

“I’ve got to say, Captain,” Edmund said. “Your crew is mighty unique.”

“Thanks,” I said. “They’re all my friends, and great people besides.”

He smiled a bit through his beard. “I see. You must live an interesting life, then,” he said.

“That’s how you find all the most interesting people.” I said. “Like you guys! How long have you been a lumberjack?”

He chuckled. “Hardly that interesting. I’ve been a woodcutter my entire life, as far as I can reckon. Got the class from working with my da’ and started working the saw when I was a teen. Picked up the axe a bit later and just never stopped.”

I nodded. “That’s really neat,” I said.

He grinned. “Aye. I got my second class the natural way too, by felling half a woods all on my lonesome. Even the World knows that old Edmund’s the best chopper around.”

“A natural class?” I asked. “Like... like getting your first class?”

“Aye,” he agreed. “Mighty uncommon. Most folk need to venture into a dungeon, but that’s dangerous, and if it isn’t dangerous, then it’s expensive.” He gestured to his buddies. “Most of these meatheads are stuck at ten.”

There was some jeering and insults flung at Edmund for his insult, but it was done in the same tone that Amaryllis called me an idiot sometimes. I had the impression that all of these guys really did care about their nominal leader.

“That’s too bad,” I said. “You’d think more stronger people would be a good thing.”

Edmund shrugged. “Maybe. Some folk would disagree. Lots of power comes with being strong, and I think that some folk would rather not let that power get around.”

Having spent a bit of time around nobles recently, I could imagine some of them agreeing to that. “Hmm,” I said. “Maybe.”

The ground closer to the camp was a lot more even. Some effort had gone into flattening it and pulling out stumps from the ground. It meant that it was all quite muddy, and soon we could hardly talk on account of the squelching of a dozen boots.

Amaryllis grumbled at all the mud clinging to her legs and Bastion beat his wings to hover over the worse of it. Awen scrunched her nose and kept going until, finally, we reached the hard-packed earth of the camp proper.

There were about a dozen buildings in the camp, all of them looking to be in decent repair. The lodges, obviously built to act like dorms of sorts, weren’t decorated or anything, but they were clean, and the bigger buildings by the centre seemed almost new.

I jumped on the spot a few times to get the worse of the mud off of my shoes, then let my cleaning aura take care of the rest. Amaryllis came to stand next to me, a look in her eyes that said that she wouldn’t ask me to clean her, but that she would appreciate it if I did.

“So, Edmund,” I said as I pushed more mana into my aura to make the mud wick off Amaryllis’ feet. “Where do we bring all of this food?”

“Ah, right this way, Captain,” he said as he began leading us towards the big building in the centre of the compound. “You’re in luck. We have two representatives of the East Mattergrove Company in, and they brought a small retinue with them.”

“Oh?” I asked.

He nodded. “They’re here to negotiate with the dryads. Maybe sue for peace.” He sounded a bit... torn on the subject.

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“Peace is usually a pretty good thing,” I said.

“Aye,” he agreed. “But, well, these woods belong to the East Mattergrove Company, not to some walking trees.”

I blinked. “When did the company buy the land from the dryads and the others in the woods?” I asked.

He looked a bit uncomfortable at that. “It was purchased from the crown.”

Amaryllis snorted. “This is an old story,” she said. “Let me guess, the crown never informed the locals that this land belonged to them?”

“Those aren’t matters for a man like me,” Edmund said.

I hummed along while letting my mind wander a bit. It sounded as though maybe Oak and his family were in a spot of trouble. The deforestation around the camp was pretty nasty looking at first glance. I couldn’t imagine tree people being okay with that.

“What kind of peace are you looking for?” I asked.

Edmund glanced my way. “There are different kinds?”

I didn’t get to answer right away since we arrived at the big building and stepped through a set of double doors into a large open room filled with tables and chairs. Posters for products that I didn’t recognize decorated the walls, and there was a board near the door with what looked like a chore list on it.

“Kitchens are at the back,” Edmund said with a gesture to the far end of the room. “I bet you girls are a good hand in the kitchen?” he asked with a good-natured smile.

I looked at Awen and Amaryllis, neither meeting my eye. “No, none of us can cook well,” I said.

“Ah,” Edmund said. He rubbed at the back of his head. “Well, no matter, we’ve got a couple of lads with Cooking, they can figure it out. Just put everything on the counter and find yourselves a seat. Main meal’s usually served at about this time, so the lads who are hungry ought to be coming around.”

“Alright!” I said. We reached the front, put our stuff on the counter there, then moved over to the biggest table in the room, one obviously made from a huge trunk cut lengthwise down its middle. “I guess that they have plenty of guys around who know how to work with their wood,” I said.

Bastion started to cough halfway through the motion of sitting down. Amaryllis had to pat him on the back. “It’s okay,” she said. “You’ll get used to it.”

It only took a minute of sitting around and chatting about nothing before more people started to fill the room. A pair of men rushed back towards the kitchens, and soon there was the sound of pots and pans banging together to fill the awkward silence.

We were getting a lot of stares, and I could see some of the younger guys ribbing each other and pointing our way. I guessed that there just weren’t all that many girls around a camp like this one.

Edmund left, then returned a bit later, looking like he’d freshened up, and without his big jacket. He rolled up the sleeves of a cotton shirt, then pulled out a seat next to Bastion’s. “We usually have a couple of lads going around serving everyone,” he said.

“Ah, did you want us to help with that?” I asked.

“What? Oh, no, of course not. That’s not a job for a guest. The folks over at this table get served first. That’s myself and a couple of the older lads usually, the foremen and the blacksmith, but with the big-wigs from Mattergrove here today... well, you’ll have better company than this old lumberjack,” he said.

“Nonsense,” Bastion replied. “You’ve been nothing but cordial so far. So, what kind of wood do you source from here?”

The boys were soon in a deep discussion about... hafts and handle woods, of all things. Bastion seemed very open. I guessed that maybe his job meant that he had to be quick about making friends too.

The room slowly filled with banter and laughter, a few pipes were lit up, giving the air a strange earthy scent, and someone lit up a fire in the hearth to one side. Candles were moved about, casting orange-red glows across every wooden wall, and I found myself relaxing into my seat.

A small group of people showed up from a staircase off near the back. They weren’t lumberjacks, that was immediately obvious. The woodcutters were all big hefty men, with beards and, in some cases, mighty fine chins. These new people were all a lot thinner, in suits that had little ascots and with a look about them that reminded me of some people who were camping for the first time.

It was probably rude to assume that they were all city people though, so when part of the group came to our table I greeted them with a nice big smile. “Hello!” I said.

There were only two aiming to sit at the big table. A bigger, older gentleman who reminded me a bit of Awen’s dad, only a smidge older, and a thirty-something man who was all bones, with a pair of spectacles perched at the end of a long nose.

They both paused on seeing us and looked across our little group with obvious, rising confusion and consternation.

“My name is Broccoli,” I said.

“Ah, right,” Edmund said as he interrupted his conversation with Bastion. “These are sirs Sebastien Faleaf, and Geoffrey Hardnut. Distinguished officers from the East Mattergrove Company.”

Geoffrey, the older of the two, pointed at us with a gnarled finger. “Edmund, who are these harlots and where did you find them?”

I saw Amaryllis’ passive, neutral expression turn into a beautiful smile, and I started to worry about Mister Geoffrey’s health.

“I’m Broccoli,” I said before Amaryllis could fry anyone. “Captain of the Beaver Cleaver. Our airship made an emergency landing just a little ways away.”

Geoffrey huffed. “You landed on company property?” he asked.

I nodded. “Yup. These are my friends, Bastion Coldfront, a Paladin and royal guard from Sylphfree, Princess Amaryllis Albatross from the Harpy Mountains, and that’s Awen, Awen Bristlecone. I... actually, I don’t know what her title would be.”

“Just Lady Bristlecone,” Awen said. “Um, I could become a countess one day, but that’s not really important, I guess.”

Geoffrey and Sebastien were looking a pinch pale. “Sit, sit,” I said. “We brought some food from the Beaver to share!”

***

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