Chapter 93: 92. Unexpected Shelter

“Storm clouds overhead.” Luis muttered. “We’ll have to huddle up soon.”

 

I looked up from my sad, soggy biscuit towards the sky. Dark clouds frothed and churned like the froth of the ocean at the ceiling of the world, and far off I could see a front of snow sweeping over the northern peaks, enveloping and swallowing them as they dashed to meet us. 

 

I grimaced. I used to like rain and storms back on Earth, so much so that I’d sometimes go and plan to be out of the house whether it started. There’d always been something soothing about even the most vicious winds and pelting rains.

 

My mentors and friends in the mountainous country had spoken often of how shatteringly cold, of how depressingly wet, of how crushingly heavy it could be, but I hadn’t believed them before winter had started in earnest. I had seen an evil to the clouds then, a lingering malignity that bore down on the soul and obscured the world in dense white and threw down chimneys like the wrath of some god. You couldn’t safely travel in a proper storm; you could only hope that it was one of those many that lasted only minutes before the planet’s wrath was wholly spent.

 

That wasn’t all storms, of course. I still enjoyed the odd benign crush of wind and snow, but every once and a while even I could sense the strange emotion that swept over with the clouds. I knew it was all superstitious nonsense, of course, but I also found that didn’t change how it felt in my gut.

 

And my gut told me this one was one of the bad ones.

 

Ahead of me, the other four carts had seemed to notice the same thing as Luis, and I could see pointing arms from around the sides of the wagons as we ascended the hill. It was somewhat late and dark out, so only the soft white light of magical lanterns revealed them, but I knew we’d probably be huddling up for a meeting once we got to flatter land in a few minutes.

 

“I thought we had a few weeks of clearance? I asked. “Wasn’t that one of the things we were waiting for?”

 

“Cloud wardens and astraviners can be wrong.” Luis kept his eyes on the clouds as his spoke, and I could see an edge of irritation to his eyes. 

 

“I hope it’s not too long then.” I said. “We’re already off schedule.”

 

We’d split off from the River Norni a few days back to begin our ascent into the mountains so as to avoid the Horn of Norni Pass, but there weren’t exactly quality roads over such places. Or rather, there weren’t road at all in most of the mountains because why would anyone vouch to climb over a mountain instead of taking a perfectly straight pass? If one was lucky, the Horn was even open until the very depths of winter, so there was practically no reason to avoid it.

 

Unless, of course, you wanted to get from Minua to Fangpeak without stepping through royal ducal lands. Then you had to look for different options.

 

I glared again at the dirt almost-path that we were currently stumbling over. Even with the scouts and pathfinders we had with us, it was a constant struggle to stay on the road and not to miss the perfectly disguised switchbacks and forest paths that it constantly devolved into. And when we did follow the paths well enough, they were just as likely to be covered in snow or overgrown trees as they were to be clear. Climbing through ‘roads’ like that, it was only by the sights of several peaks that we knew where we were at all, and we were almost two days behind our plan.

 

Though, to be fair, I suppose we were lucky that the roads existed at all.

 

Luis gently tugged on the reins, slowing the colgs to a walk. 

 

“The schedule shouldn’t matter too much, really.” He said. “Those twins of ours have found more than enough food to last us an extra week or so. Their skill and murdering sleeping forest animals seems unmatched.”

 

“I wouldn’t know, really.” I said bitterly. “They haven’t taken me past that first time.”

 

Overhead, the storm grew louder in the distance, and a few flakes of snow began to drift down from the heavens. Despite this, no orders came as the caravan slowly came to a stop in front of us. Sparse trees and rocky slopes encroached on either side of our ascent, and looking ahead I could see that the first wagon had stopped on the crest of the hill, backing up the rest of us as well.

 

Luis pulled on the reins again, slowing us to an abrupt stop on the hill. The colgs, eager to mindlessly pull their load, chirped loudly at the unexpected stop, both of them turning their heads to stare at us expectantly.

 

Behind us, the small screen between the wagon bench and the interior slid open and Auro’s face popped out.

 

“What’s wrong? Are we stopping for the night?”

 

“No idea.” Luis said. “Ephren’s sight-seeing or something. Probably saw a funny rock and stopped to behold it.”

 

Auro blinked in confusion, obviously believing him a little too much.

 

“It’s probably the storm.” I clarified. “We’ll be stopping to tie down soon.”

 

I’d read about the practise of tying the wagons down for storms several times now in Veroline rom… I mean fantasy books, though we’d thankfully not had to do it on any of the trip I’d been on. A part of me was curious to see how the descriptions held up to the real thing, but another, more sensible part was dreading it. The better scenario would have us shelter behind some large rock to avoid the cart flipping from the winds they could get to.

 

A commotion up ahead drew our attention suddenly, and I could see a soldier jogging excitedly from cart to cart. After a second I could see that it was Heril, the cousin of Captain Gelarin. He offered a brisk salute as he stopped at ours.

 

“Good evening, Lady Astrian!” He said quickly. “Count Ephren requires you and Lord Maverick at the front!” After a quick glance at Luis he continued. “Looks like we’ll be sleeping well tonight!”

 

He turned and started back up the hill without waiting for a response, and I felt obliged to call after him.

 

“Wait, why’s that?” I asked. “What’s up there?”

 

Heril hopped on one foot as he turned.

 

“A village, princess, a village!”

 

And then he ran back up to the crest of the hill.

 

The three of us exchanged looks.

 

“In the middle of the mountains?” I raised an eyebrow towards our guide. “Luis?”

 

“I’ve been in Fangpeak, I don’t know every star-lost village in it.” He grumbled.

 

“A bed!” Auro’s eyes sparkled. “Not that this hasn’t been fine… but I’d much prefer a bed!”

 

“Be prepared for a barn instead.” Luis said.

 

Auro’s excitement died as quickly as it came.

 

“A… barn? Like for colgs?”

 

“Worse.” Luis said gravely. “Root-beasts.”

 

I kicked him before Auro’s face could fall too much further.

 

“We won’t know until we go up.” I said. “Can you wake up Fredrick?”

…

I felt a twinge in my stomach as the Count, Fredrick, and I rode up to the village on the hill and the crowd that waited in front.

 

It was a modest village seemingly untouched by the threat of war that surrounded it, built of dozens of small stone houses with dull red roofs. Despite what I would’ve assumed from such a remote mountain town, however, each one was solidly built and looked to be as enduring as the mountain itself. There was a short cobbled wall around the side with a simple gate of brownwood, and it was open. The high peaked roofs were unhindered by the increasing snowfall, nor were the engraved rock fence posts even bent in the frozen ground. Dead terraces of furry herd beasts and stiff stalks of peak-grass rose out of the low-lying forest around the hill, and just a short distance beyond rose the surrounding cliffs. 

 

But what we hadn’t been prepared for was a village in the middle of the trip. Especially not one that had heard of us before we had heard of them.

 

Almost a hundred men, women, and children had drawn out into a crowd in front of the gate, each bundled in coats and glinting with the subtle hint of heating magic. A few of the men casually held spears and small circular shields with them, though they seemed more curious than threatening. In the front a man on a decrepit colg wearing a more traditional Veroline cloak, obviously the village head, stood with his family and waited for us to approach.

 

“I wasn’t aware we’d be passing through anywhere civilised.” I muttered to the Count.

 

“Neither was I.” Count Ephren said cheerfully. “A stellar miracle to all of us.”

 

As if to accentuate his point, a gust blew past with a flurry of snow, snapping our cloaks in the wind. I nervously fingered my spear-staff.

 

Why did no one else find this as ominous as I did? A strange village that nobody had heard of in the middle of an isolated mountain appearing at the onset of a nasty storm? This was peak horror movie potential! There was no way I’d be able to sleep in a place like this!

 

“Are they even Minuan?” I asked. “Is it safe to stay here?”

 

As far as I knew, the northern reaches of this range was under Fangpeak control, but the actual borders in most of the kingdom were fuzzier than a fish. So, if we were unlucky, this place might even owe allegiance to the royal duchy, or maybe even Doux-Burgund. And what if they had heard of the coming conflict and had descriptions of us? Or even just an order to attack Minuan troops? We might not even need the horror flags, it might just be a trap!

 

Count Ephren, however, just shrugged.

 

“I don’t think it matters.”

 

I raised an eyebrow. Steadily the village got larger, and the sound of colg-clops on packed snow seemed loud in my ears.

 

“What? Why wouldn’t it?” I asked. “Couldn’t we be in danger?”

 

The Count looked strangely at me, as if that was a strange question to even ask, and Fredrick answered for him.

 

“Fangpeaker, Minuan, Burgunde, Veroline…” He began. “It doesn’t change anything in the slightest. If this village isn’t on the ducal maps and isn’t even known to our guides, it almost certainly isn’t in contact with the capital. The mountains might be King’s land, yes, but the king also technically rules the skies and cavernous depths. Whether that matters or not is up for debate. I doubt these people even truly know who rules them.”

 

“Exactly.” Count Ephren beamed. “These people are irrelevant to Verol and the Everstar’s designs. That’s why this can only be a boon.”

 

I looked doubtfully at the village again. To be honest, it seemed well enough off to me that it didn’t make much sense that it’d be cut off from the rest of the kingdom. How could so many people live somewhere and not need trade, or schooling, or protection? Didn’t they have family outside of the village? And there were runes on the walls, so they assuredly had thaumaturges as well. Did those mages teach themselves? I doubted that such a community was anywhere near ‘irrelevant’. Well, in my opinion at least. 

 

Before I could reply, however, we came to a clacking stop in front of the village, right where the inlaid stone bricks of the road stopped and the dirt began. The villagers stayed where they were, looking on expectantly at our party. 

 

There was a short silence for a second before Count Ephren raised his hand in greeting.

 

“Fair skies!” He said with a smile. “I am Count Ephren of Minua, and with me are the Lord Maverick of Cice and Lady Astrian of Summark. Would you happen to have any warm beds for a night?”

 

The crowd broke into murmurs for a minute, and I glanced behind me to the wagon to make eye contact with Silst, who just shrugged in that draconic way he liked. Though, that wasn’t quite different from how he normally responded the last couple weeks.

 

After a short conversation amongst themselves, the man with the cloak stepped forward and bowed to Count Ephren.

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“Welcome to Skiersti.” He said solemnly, addressing Count Ephren. “I am the stockman, Haln. All under the stars are welcome to stay. Now come in and eat, and hurry! We must be under roof, ere the fury of the mountain wash us away. ”

 

“Gladly.” 

 

Count Ephren bowed his head, and I followed suit.

 

The stockman called out something to the crowd and turned his colg around to lead us through. Villagers parted to form a path, but didn’t disperse. With one final look at Fredrick and then the caravan, Count Ephren spurred his colg after and we followed.

 

Many of their eyes rested on me as we passed, and I had to try not to flinch as several greeted us as we passed close enough to touch. 

 

As we passed under the arch and into the town, I studied the faces of the townspeople. Most had short brown hair and pale faces, with green and brown eyes. The men were sturdy and well built, with callused hands and wrinkles beyond their years. Their clothes were simple, thick, and roughly cut, without any of the trimmings common in Minua, while they seemed to eschew hats in favour of fur lined hoods. Their coats where fastened with buttons by their right flank, and almost all of them had thickly wrapped furs around their legs and above their boots. Most had wooden trinkets resembling the four pointed star on their person, or engraved iron rings and buttons. But all of them looked cheerful, much more so than the looming clouds would portend.

 

Some of the villagers followed after us as the stockman led us to a large building nestled against the cliffs. A small group of kids matched pace with my colg and waved happily, and I waved back with a smile.

 

Somebody’s popular. Silst thought.

 

I glanced back at him just in time for him to land on the saddle in front of me, sending up a bunch of awed cries from the children.

 

“Some people don’t hate children, you know.” I whispered. “Perhaps it's how gloomy you always are?”

 

Children? 

 

Silst looked from me to the villagers, and I followed his gaze to find that I had quite a few more people following just behind my colg than the others. I forced down a sudden surge of panic and smiled at them, but that only sent them back into their murmurs.

 

“Why are they all staring at me?” I asked quietly. “Am I glowing?”

 

I was used to drawing attention by now, what with the reputation I had in Minua now, but this seemed different to me in a way I couldn’t quite pin down.

 

They might not be used to seeing a Summarkan. Silst offered. You don’t blend in particularly well, Saphry. 

 

“Then why aren’t they staring at Heril?” I asked. “His hair’s white as snow, and he doesn’t even have his hood up.”

 

I gestured back to Heril back on the wagon behind us, who while he did have more people gaping at him did not have nearly as many as I did.

 

Silst just shrugged and turned away to look at the buildings we passed.

 

I grimaced. Even after he’d started voluntarily talking to me again, all our conversations had ended abruptly like that and there was little I could do about it. I doubted he was even doing it on purpose at this point, but it still irritated me.

 

“Are you a starman?”

 

A squeaky voice brought me back to attention, and I looked down to see a young girl that couldn’t be older than ten walking along to my left. Her parent stood back a bit, but didn’t seem to be in a rush to interfere.

 

“A what?” I asked, startled.

 

Why star’man’? What did this child know?

 

“Mom says the stars come to the ground sometimes.” The girl pointed up at the sky. “Before they go up!”

 

Oh? Was I a star already? That was strange, I hadn’t even done a [Christmas] special yet.

 

“I’d say a star-woman.” I joked 

 

Well, right now, at least.

 

Perhaps that was the wrong answer, for yet more of that god-damned murmuring broke out amongst those following us and I hurriedly put my hands up.

 

“I’m human, of course!” I said quickly.

 

Silst snorted.

 

I wouldn’t joke about stuff like that with literal country bumpkins. 

 

“But you have a dragon!” The girl protested.

 

Silst suddenly rose up and snapped towards the girl, and she fell back with a yelp.

 

You do not have a dragon. He grumbled.

 

I offered the girl a small smile as we kept on.

 

“Sorry, my dragon’s a little grumpy.”

 

Silst continued to gripe at me as the stockman led us inside.

…

“We serve the Lord Halbrand of Minua, he’s the one who gave me my cloak! Though it has been many years since he has visited.” Mr Haln shook his head sadly. “We don’t get many people coming here.”

 

As the storm spent its wrath on the old mountain, the whole of our caravan and most of the village feasted in the large hall in the back of the village. It was larger on the inside than I had thought it would be, even extending a few metres into the cliff face itself, and it was filled with sitting tables arranged around square fire pits. Upon originally seeing it, I had thought that it would be the chief, or ‘stockman’’s lodge, but there were no bed rooms to be found inside. Haln had showed us around first, and the from what I could tell it functioned as both a community centre and a stockpile for the village’s shared resources. The basements were filled with barrels of drink and sacks of grain harvested from the sprawling terraces surrounding the village, and dried fish from the pond farms hung in the back rooms. 

 

I idly listened to the stockman and the Count talk as I ate, more focused on eating something that wasn’t a stew than commenting on village politics. Unfortunately, my rank had earned Fredrick and I a seat at the table of the village elders and Count Ephren, and Fredrick was muc more interested in their stories than I was. Even worse, I could see Breale, Auro, and Silst joking around some people at a table near the back.

 

Nobility really was complete bullshit sometimes.

 

“Halbrand? Ah, I’m afraid he has passed on as of some years ago. He died without an heir, and his lands fell to the ducal estate to be redistributed.” Count Ephren said. “Unfortunate, too. We could’ve really used a good man like him right about now…”

 

“Passed on? That’s a shame.”

 

Hmm, so the lands just went straight back to the duke? Didn’t that encourage him to just assassinate his vassals to take their lands? Or was managing everything just too much trouble to be worth it? But then I suppose he might as well just appoint a manager to handle it for him and collect the profit. Then he wouldn’t have to deal with his vassals, and could keep the land governed.

 

I mulled it over as I took another bite, blinking as I realised I’d invented feudalism again.

 

“Most of his old lands were transferred to Lord Maneril, I think.” Fredrick said. “You would have either him or the duke as the landowner. Though Maneril’s demesne lays quite far down the River Norni form here. It might be a week or more to his court. Where have you been paying your stockpile taxes too?”

 

The elders glanced at each other with worry.

 

“Lord Halbrand used to send a collector every year.” Haln said eventually. “We would just give it to him and he said he’d take it back.”

 

Fredrick frowned.

 

“So you haven’t? Why, we’ll have to get Lord Belvan to-”

 

“I’m sure Lord Belvan has much larger worries than Skeirsti.” Count Ephren interrupted. “But enough of taxes and rents! You were speaking of travellers earlier, and I’m curious! How often do you find people up those roads?”

 

I glanced towards Fredrick and saw that his frown had deepened. Obviously he felt strongly about the village’s inadvertent tax dodging.

 

“Is it really that big of a deal?” I whispered. “A village like this isn’t going to make a dent in Minua’s stockpile situation.”

 

He leaned back as the others switched conversations, resting on his hands.

 

“It’s attitudes like that that hold back Verol, I fear.” He said quietly. “What if we exempted every mountain town?”

 

“Does Verol not do that already?” I asked. “I struggle to believe that Minua sends soldiers up here to defend it.”

 

“It doesn’t need it. Our forest forts and borders need troops and foodstuffs, not these wayward backwaters.”

 

That was a little harsh, wasn’t it? Like, sure, it objectively was a backwater, but wasn’t it attitudes like his that pushed them off interacting with the rest of Verol? After all, if it didn’t actually need anything from Verol, why would it want to be a part of it?

 

“Ah, that reminds me!” Haln suddenly said loudly. “We did have visitors just a week ago, actually. One of our hunters saw a wagon train from the capital moving west down one of the switchbacks. They didn’t stop here, though.”

 

Fredrick and I locked our attention to the elder as he continued, apparently ignorant of our surprise. Count Ephren hid his own quite well, even managing to look calm.

 

“Do you know what they were doing?” Ephren asked.

 

“Why, they told our hunter they were a merchant train.” Haln said. “Must’ve been lost, though, because their target was Fangpeak. Ha, much like yourselves, now that I think about it.”

 

Fredrick and I exchanged glances that left no doubt about the true purpose of that train.

 

Because there was no way it was trading.

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