《Grand Harvest》
Forest of Wheat
The wheat reached up like a forest. The stems were thick like man¡¯s fingers and yet the heads drooped low with heavy kernels.
Fregnite rolled some heads of wheat in his fingers, feeling how fat and full they were. He had to squint when looking at the field. The wheat glowed golden in the morning sun. It shone like someone had polished it. It was perfect. He felt his chest tighten with pride. ¡°Pretty good,¡± he said.
Granite chuckled. ¡°Play it as cool as you want, Fregi,¡± he said. ¡±You know it¡¯s amazing.¡±
Granite was as tall as Fregnite, but slightly stockier. He had a short beard that was immaculately groomed. They were both less than a metre and a half tall and built like bulls. Granite was leaning on a scythe that was over a head taller than he was.
Fregi nodded and bumped his fists together, one on top of the other, in the dwarven gesture of approval. He let his gaze linger on the golden field and glanced at Granite¡¯s scythe. The blade was far too polished for what a scythe¡¯s blade needed to be, but Granite was fussy about everything. His hair was just right, the borders of his fields arrow-straight and his scythe honed to a razor¡¯s edge. This was all normal, but the timing of the harvest was not. ¡°It¡¯s not even summer yet,¡± Fregi said.
¡°The wheat is ready,¡± Granite said.
Fregi looked at the kernels he had been rolling around in his hand. He had to agree. He dropped the kernels onto the ground and bumped his fists together once more.
¡°Fregnite!¡± a rough voice shouted.
Fregi turned around to see Flint walking over from the next field. Flint¡¯s field had barely sprouted and was still light green. Growing well, but nothing compared to Granite¡¯s wheat. Flint was shorter than either Fregi or Granite, but even stockier. His beard wasn¡¯t cut short but braided and tucked under his belt, in traditional miner-fashion. His clothes were dusty and worn through at places.
¡°Yeah?¡± Fregi asked as Flint got closer.
¡°It¡¯s not fair,¡± Flint said.
¡°You wanted beer, so you planted barley,¡± Granite cut in. ¡°There¡¯s nothing unfair about that.¡±
¡°Well, wheat beer is swill,¡± Flint said. ¡°Still, at this rate, you¡¯ll have a second harvest before I get my first!¡±
¡°Boys,¡± Fregi said. ¡°Someone always has a better harvest and someone a worse one. We¡¯ll share in fortune and misfortune both, you know this.¡±
¡°It¡¯s not misfortune if barley grows like it always does,¡± Granite said quietly.
Flint hmph¡¯d. It sounded like a rock falling onto another.
Fregi wondered how Flint had held on to his miner¡¯s physique even after two centuries of farming. He had even kept his old chosen name Mountainpick, where most dwarves in B?ndelheim had chosen names more suited to their current situation. Granite Ironspade. Fregnite Freetrade. Some humans snickered at Fregi, but he was a simple man. He was free, and he was a trader. Anyone who had a problem with Fregi¡¯s name was free to come and tell it to his face. Few did.
Fregi heard someone approaching and glanced over his shoulder. A man walked towards them along the road. Fregi frowned as he recognised him as Jordan Rye. He was much taller and leaner than the dwarves. He had short salt and pepper hair and a thick bar of moustache that covered his upper lip.
¡°You¡¯re thinking too small,¡± Jordan said. Dwarven voices carried well, and he seemed to have had no trouble following the earlier conversation.
¡°What do you mean?¡± Flint asked and turned to Jordan.
The man stopped a bit further away from where the dwarves were talking to each other, so as not to tower over them. Any of the dwarves could break an arm clean off him in an arm wrestling match, but it was still awkward if they had to crane their neck to look him in the face while having a discussion. Jordan was very conscious of things like that.
¡°If the wheat is going to grow that fast, you could pull up the barley, sow the field with wheat, and still have a harvest before the barley would have ripened.¡±
Flint grumbled. He glanced at the golden wheat field and the light green field where he had just come from. ¡°If it¡¯s the wheat,¡± he said. ¡°What if it¡¯s the soil? We¡¯d just be wasting two harvests instead of gaining any.¡±
¡°Your field has always had better harvest, though,¡± Granite said.
Granite and Flint had a tradition of friendly competition that Flint pretended to ignore, and Granite always lost. They experimented with different fertilisers, tilling techniques, and circulated crops, constantly seeking ways to outdo each other.
¡°Well, true, but this is outlandish. It feels like magic,¡± Flint said.
All four of them spat on the ground, even Flint himself.
¡°You know better than to say things like that,¡± Granite said. He glanced at Jordan with a worried look.
¡°Sorry, I obviously didn¡¯t mean it like that. I¡¯ve seen you at your field every day and I know how hard you work,¡± Flint said quickly.
¡°It¡¯s just a good year for wheat and we should take advantage of that,¡± Jordan said. ¡°I have my farmhands retilling the fields as we speak.¡±
¡°Hmm,¡± Fregi said and rubbed his chin, still looking at Granite¡¯s field. The sheen of the wheat captivated him. ¡°What are you planning?¡±
¡°This is the year we¡¯ll put B?ndelheim on the map,¡± Jordan said.
Flint and Granite both raised a brow.
Fregi glanced at the man. ¡°We haven¡¯t really looked to be on the map,¡± he said.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
¡°I don¡¯t mean tourists or anything. I just mean that if we double down on wheat now, we can beat everyone to the market,¡± he said and ran his hand through the swaying wheat. ¡°People will kill for this.¡±
¡°It¡¯s true that others won¡¯t have any wheat to sell for a month or two,¡± Fregi said. He let the thought hang in the air and rubbed his beard.
¡°And they won¡¯t have wheat like this at all!¡± Granite said proudly.
Flint frowned and crossed his thick arms before his wide chest. ¡°You can¡¯t live on wheat alone,¡± he said. ¡°Your teeth will fall out.¡±
¡°We¡¯ll buy proper beer with the profits,¡± Granite said flatly.
¡°Ah, true,¡± Flint said.
¡°I¡¯m requesting you call a town meeting,¡± Jordan said to Fregi. ¡°We¡¯ll discuss it together. I¡¯m suggesting we plant as much wheat as we can as soon as we can.¡±
¡°That¡¯s a pretty risky motion from you,¡± Fregi said. ¡°What happened to sticking to our old ways?¡±
¡°Wheat is the most traditional crop that we have,¡± Jordan said. His jaw clenched and his eyes squinted before he relaxed his face again. ¡°We¡¯re just getting back to our roots. Staying true to B?ndelheim traditions.¡±
¡°Save it for the meeting,¡± Flint said. He wrinkled his nose and poked his thick finger at a stalk of wheat. ¡°I don¡¯t even like bread that much.¡±
¡°Order, order!¡± Fregi shouted.
The meeting had started as the village meetings did. There had been the traditional first half an hour of banter and gossip. The bachelor club was the worst of the lot. They heckled Fregi endlessly about finally settling down and were the worst gossipers in the entire village.
¡°Everyone is here, so let¡¯s start already,¡± Fregi said.
¡°Why are you in such a hurry? You don¡¯t have anyone waiting at home!¡± Flint shouted.
The tavern keeper, Slate, slapped Flint on the shoulder. Slate was a dwarf as well, so both the shout and the slap were loud. Slate had cooked for the dwarves after they left the mines, and just kept on doing that ever since. He had a tonsure-like bald head, the dome of his scalp ringed by dark, coarse hair. His long, thick mustache was braided and tied behind his back, so as not to dip into anything.
Fregi sighed and banged his gavel to drown out the laughter. His gavel was a heavy metal drilling hammer, a memento from earlier days. Fregi struck it repeatedly on the wooden table of the tavern. Mugs on the table rocked up and down.
Slate winced with every strike. ¡°We¡¯re just having a bit of fun. No need to wreck the place,¡± he said quietly, and wiped some spilt beer off the table with a rag.
Fregi squinted his eyes at Slate and smirked. ¡°Let¡¯s begin. Jordan Rye has a motion for the village. Go ahead,¡± he said to Jordan.
Jordan stood up and looked around the inn. Anyone who lived in B?ndelheim could attend the village meetings. Everyone had a single vote if voting was needed and villagers attended if the topic interested them or if they wanted to weigh in on the decision. This time all the farmers were present with even Heck attending. He was known as the potato hermit and might have been there just accidentally. Still, as he was nominally a farmer, Jordan nodded at him as well.
¡°Thank you Fregnite,¡± Jordan began. ¡°Back in my ancestors¡¯ days, B?ndelheim was known for its wheat. We were the breadbasket of Velonea. I¡¯m not saying that we shouldn¡¯t have taken up other crops, but it¡¯s time to get back to our roots.¡±
The villagers listened in silence. Rye family had always been influential, and they had always had the largest fields. Heck spat on the floor and took a bite out of a raw potato. The sound was clearly audible in the quiet as Jordan was taking a breath.
Jordan ignored the hermit and continued. ¡°B?ndelheim was built on wheat and this year is a sign that we should return to what we have always known best.¡±
¡°Your fields just struggle with vegetables!¡± one of the human farmers shouted. ¡°The Rye lands have always been better for grain.¡±
¡°They have!¡± Jordan shouted back. He made a sideways cutting motion with his hand. ¡°We ache to reap the harvest again. Instead of digging around on our knees in the dirt, crawling around like animals.¡±
¡°Nothing wrong with getting your hands dirty,¡± Flint grumbled. His voice cut through the general hubbub of the meeting, as dwarven voices did.
¡°Flint, you¡¯re growing grain already,¡± Jordan said, now almost pleading. ¡°You saw how much further ahead your neighbour¡¯s field is. You can¡¯t deny the golden sheen, the ripeness of the heads.¡±
¡°I¡¯m not trying to¡¡± Flint began, but Granite cut him off.
¡°Most of you have wheat growing already. Why do you need a meeting for this?¡± he asked.
¡°I have been talking with many of the farmers,¡± Jordan said. ¡°We want to pool our resources.¡±
All human farmers nodded in agreement. B?ndelheim was a small community and had an unusually many dwarven residents, but the humans were still the majority.
¡°You don¡¯t need to circle the issue,¡± Fregi said. ¡°You mean you want to get at Granite¡¯s wheat.¡±
¡°We don¡¯t want to get at it,¡± Jordan said and turned to Fregi. ¡°We want to buy it - at a fair price! We ask you to share it with the village, invest in the community, instead of just shipping it out to please some cake-fancying wizards.¡±
The humans kept nodding, and one spat on the floor when wizards were mentioned.
Granite frowned, but Fregi saw the gleam in his eyes. He knew his friend had always felt left out as a farmer and inferior to Flint, especially. Granite had embraced farming with enthusiasm. Yet Flint got better crops, while seemingly farming only grudgingly and out of necessity. Granite was a hard worker, but back in the days, he had understood nothing about buying farmland. The fields had been sold to him as practically a priced heirloom. That turned out to mean they had been tilled next to barren over the generations. Granite had toiled for years to get his fields to grow anything. It had been backbreaking work, but he had nursed the fields back to life. Mulching the ground, trying out and rotating multiple crops, coping with minuscule harvests and finally seeing some progress.
This year, all the work had finally paid off for Granite, and Fregi was happy for him.
Fregi sat in the now empty hall, listening to the quiet. Granite had accepted the otherwise unanimous proposal after hearing the price Jordan suggested.
Flint had stayed behind when everyone else left. Slate was gone, so Flint went behind the counter and drew two mugs of beer. It should have been Slate¡¯s night to keep company to Frida¡¯s mother, his mother-in-law, but he had claimed he was needed for the meeting. Now he had rushed home to let Frida take the rest of the evening off.
¡°These people don¡¯t remember what it was like back in the days,¡± Flint said, as he set the mug down before Fregi. ¡°The crops were failing. The wheat was stunted.¡±
¡°It isn¡¯t stunted now,¡± Fregi said.
¡°You¡¯re right about that,¡± Flint said. ¡°Good for young Granite.¡±
¡°Good for everyone, if Jordan is right,¡± Fregi said and took a long drink.
¡°I really hope so. It¡¯s going to be a long spring, digging up the fields again. I crumbled under the pressure too. Shame for all the barley. It started out strong this spring.¡±
¡°Just say the word if you need extra hands. I have no trips planned at the moment. The next caravan won¡¯t be here until later,¡± Fregi said and gestured dismissively with his hand towards his back. Most of the village¡¯s trade with the outside world ran through his small trade company.
¡°Thanks Fregi,¡± Flint said and bumped his fists together. ¡°I might take you up on that. Spring is pretty far along already.¡±
They sipped their beers in silence for a moment.
¡°You ever miss the days in the mines? When you didn¡¯t have to care about the seasons?¡± Fregi asked.
¡°You¡¯re talking to Flint Mountainpick. What do you think?¡± he said, but then drew his mouth into a thin line. ¡°I bet you feel a bit differently.¡±
Fregi¡¯s mouth twitched and he lowered his gaze towards the floor. ¡°You could say that. But don¡¯t worry about it. It¡¯s all in the past.¡±
Flint bumped his fists together again with a grim face. ¡°You¡¯re right about that. You want another?¡± he asked.
¡°Nah, I¡¯m heading home. I¡¯m spent.¡±
¡°I can believe that. I¡¯d rather shovel manure than listen to Jordan when he¡¯s on a rant. Anyway, take care.¡±
¡°Take care,¡± Fregi said and placed his mug on the counter. He turned to leave and let his face droop after Flint couldn¡¯t see it anymore. He had a weird premonition about the summer. Maybe it was just because he had mentioned the mines, or maybe it was the other way around. He shook his head. It didn¡¯t matter. The spring would be too busy to think about things that happened centuries ago.
Bandits Ahoy
The next weeks were backbreaking work for everyone in the village. Even Granite needed to replant everything, but he at least had his coffers full and could hire as much help as he wanted. Farmhands all around the village ate and drank well.
The business of Slate¡¯s tavern boomed. Everyone was thirsty after spending all days on the fields, tilling, planting and ripping out half-grown crops.
Potato hermit Heck offered to buy all the potatoes to stop them from being thrown away and villagers were happy to dump them on his lands. No one really knew what to do with their other raw vegetables, so they were mostly piled on compost heaps and left there.
It was a shame to undo their earlier work, and yet morale soon improved. The very next day, after the wheat had been sown, small healthy sprouts pushed up through the soil. The farmers were elated, the discarded vegetables forgotten, and even more fields were torn up for more wheat.
¡°Look at it!¡± Granite shouted and spread his hands out towards the field.
Fregi stood next to his field and did look at it. The new batch of wheat was growing rapidly. It seemed like other crops around Granite¡¯s field had taken note how the wheat was growing and hastened their growth as well. Green onions grew so thick and tall that it looked like you would need a machete to get to them. Branches drooped low from the weight of all the cherries. Even the rose bushes next to Granite¡¯s house were resplendent. Barely any green could be seen between the flowers.
Granite was weighing a potato on his large hand. There had been some left growing next to the wheat field. It was of an early variety, but the potato was still almost too large to be real for this time of year.
¡°It¡¯s going to be one hell of a year, that¡¯s for sure,¡± Fregi said. He stood with hands on his hips, marvelling at the field.
Granite was about the respond something, when he frowned and rose on his tiptoes to look at something behind Fregi¡¯s back.
One of the human farmers who lived near the far edge of the village was running up the road and panting. He looked like he had been running for a while, sweat pouring down his brow and his face red. He wasn¡¯t a young or a light man, either. The moment Fregi saw him, he started worrying about what had made the man push himself that hard up the hill.
¡°Bandits!¡± the man croaked.
¡°What?¡± Fregi and Granite both asked.
¡°Bandits are coming! A big group!¡± the man said and leaned his hands on his knees. He looked ready to faint or throw up.
Fregi felt a bolt of electricity run through his back and his cheeks blushing under his beard.
¡°Granite,¡± he said and glanced at Granite. He nudged his head towards the centre of the village.
¡°Fregi,¡± Granite said and stuffed the potato into his pocket. He launched into a run up the road.
Dwarves had shorter legs than humans, but their muscles didn¡¯t tire as easily and their pace was unrelenting. The path below Fregi¡¯s feet reverberated as Granite stomped away.
¡°Catch your breath,¡± Fregi said to the man. ¡°Granite will collect the others.¡±
Fregi left the man leaning on a fence and started running. He heard Granite¡¯s voice shouting from above and saw farmers milling about downhill. Many had already grabbed something to use as weapons. They looked at Fregi and shouted at him as he stomped past.
¡°Follow me!¡± he shouted without listening to the farmers. He had to organise the people and form some sort of defensible position.
Bandits were in principle an ever present threat, but they hadn¡¯t bothered B?ndelheim directly for a long while. Fregi¡¯s caravans were harassed sometimes, but the village itself had never been an attractive target. B?ndelheim was a small farming village with a reputation of hard-headedness in both literal and figurative sense.
The village border had a fence, serving more as a barrier against roaming animals rather than being a defensive structure. Fregi reached it with a couple of farmers in tow. Flint was there already with some of his human neighbours. One of them was carrying a flail used for threshing. Flint had his old mattock.
Fregi could see the bandits approaching. There were at least a dozen of them, a larger group that was usually seen. Fregi noted they seemed brash. Laughing and marching up the road without a worry, the largest bandit at the front.
Fregi could recognise them as bandits immediately. Anyone could. There was no other reason a haphazard collection of rough people in a haphazard collection of gear would be moving around the countryside as a group. Bandits threatened and robbed lone travellers, jumped caravans and occasionally even raided towns, but that hadn¡¯t happened for a long time. He walked out towards the bandits.
The bandits came closer, jostling each other and joking among themselves. The leader of the bandits was a large woman, nearly two heads taller than Fregi. She wasn¡¯t tall just compared to Fregi. She was a brute. Large and muscular enough to look like she had escaped from a travelling circus. She walked ahead of the group with arms swinging wide, saying something apparently funny to one of the bandits walking behind her.
This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Fregi took a deep breath.
¡°What business do you have here?¡± he shouted.
Fregi heard more than a few surprised yelps from somewhere among the group. The bandits stumbled to a halt and the leader¡¯s head snapped forwards with a startled look in her eyes. Fregi smiled grimly.
The bandit leader collected herself.
¡°Nice village you have here, would be a shame if something happened to it,¡± she said.
The bandits behind jostled each other to gather their ranks again. The ones at the front tilted their heads down to look at Fregi from below their brows. It turned out not to look as menacing as they hoped, as Fregi was so much shorter than them and the bandits ended with chins nearly touching their chests.
Fregi took a firm, wide stance in the middle of the road and waited quietly.
¡°I said¡¡± the bandit leader began.
¡°I heard you!¡± Fregi snapped.
The woman flinched and took a half step backwards. There was another yelp from the group and a clatter of metal as someone dropped a sword. The leader grimaced and steadied herself again.
¡°Isn¡¯t there an adult to discuss things over with,¡± she said and looked over Fregi¡¯s shoulder towards the village.
The nearest bandits chuckled. ¡°Good one, boss,¡± someone said.
Fregi sighed. He glanced back at the village and saw that a group of villagers was running down the path towards him. He turned back and was about to answer when the bandit leader continued.
¡°You better just roll over,¡± she said. ¡°Haven¡¯t you heard? The wizards have been neutered. Magic doesn¡¯t work anymore.¡±
¡°We don¡¯t much follow the happenings of the outside world here,¡± Fregi responded.
¡°Is that so? Well, you hillbillies should know it¡¯s a bandit¡¯s world now. Empty your granaries or we will burn this place down. I said magic doesn¡¯t work anymore, so what are you going to do?¡± The bandit leader turned around to face the large bandit group and spread her hands wide. ¡°We¡¯re armed to the teeth, ready to ¡¡±
A potato hit her in the back of the head with a loud crack. The speech was cut short as the bandit leader dropped like a marionette that had had its strings cut. Fregi glanced back to see Granite grinning.
¡°Slipped my hand,¡± he said, clenching and unclenching his fingers and smirking. ¡°Hope I didn¡¯t interrupt anything.¡±
Half the village had followed him. They were all brandishing tools of some sort. No one had actual weapons, but the difference between an actual weapon and a heavy dwarven mattock was up to debate.
The bandits had been stunned to silence, but now one shouted and started running towards Fregi. The bandit raised his sword over his head while running. He was as tall as the leader and had scars criss-crossing his bald head.
¡°Get him, Lard!¡± someone shouted from the bandit group.
Fregi sidestepped the bandit¡¯s swing. Before the bandit could balance himself, Fregi grabbed his shoulder and dragged him forward and down. He slammed the man down on the ground with one hand still grabbing his shoulder and one on top of his back. There was an audible wheeze as the air was squeezed out of the bandit¡¯s lungs.
Fregi stepped on the bandit¡¯s hand holding the sword. The bandit screamed as bones snapped beneath Fregi¡¯s boot.
¡°Down!¡± a gruff voice shouted.
Fregi recognised the voice and stayed crouching on top of the whimpering bandit. Something whizzed over him and impacted on another bandit with a woody thunk. Fregi looked to see Flint¡¯s wife Basalt nod at him. In the other direction, a bandit toppled over. A meat mallet landed next to Fregi.
¡°You picked the wrong village,¡± Fregi said loud enough so all the bandits could hear. He was still holding down the large bandit, but raised his head to look at the group.
The bandits had stopped moving and milled about, undecided about what to do next. Most had their weapons drawn, but even the ones who had already started moving towards the village had stopped and stood hesitating.
¡°We have a lot to do today, so we¡¯re going to get back to it. When I turn back, I don¡¯t want to see a glimpse of you anymore. Got it?¡± Fregi said with a raised voice.
The bandit under him spat and sputtered something possibly defiant.
¡°GOT IT?¡± Fregi shouted directly at the man¡¯s ear.
The bandit¡¯s head struck the ground as he tried to flinch away from the sound. He yelped and kept nodding even after Fregi dragged him up. The bandit had one hand covering his ear, and the other with the mangled fingers pressed against his chest. The bandit looked at the sword still lying on the ground, but Fregi took a step towards him and he started running towards the group.
¡°You just wait, you hicks!¡± a skinny bandit shouted and shook his fist at the villagers. He yelped and joined the group running away, as Fregi picked up the sword and moved to throw it towards him.
Fregi chuckled and dropped the sword back on the ground. The bandits had collected their unconscious leader. The bandit who had been hit by the meat mallet had crawled away on his own.
Fregi picked up the mallet and handed it towards Basalt. ¡°Pretty well tenderised,¡± he said with a wink.
Basalt and Flint groaned in unison.
¡°Truly awful,¡± Basalt said and took the mallet back.
She and Flint made a funny couple. Flint was scruffy, wide and muscular like a toy bear stuffed with rocks. Basalt, on the other hand, was lean. Fregi knew she was at least as strong as Flint, but in a different way. Like some great aquatic beast. Fregi had once seen her take down three people in a brawl at Slate''s tavern, and she hadn''t even broken a sweat. She was also younger than Flint by at least a century, not that it really mattered that much with dwarves. Fregi could tell the difference, but the humans probably couldn''t.
¡°I wish I¡¯d thought of that,¡± Flint said.
Fregi patted them both on the shoulder and turned to the rest of the villagers. Some were shaking and squeezing their tools, their knuckles white. Some were breathing heavily, panting as the danger had passed. Granite winked at Fregi from the front of the group. Slate had both thumbs stuck under his wide belt. Jordan was standing amid his farmhands who all had pitchforks.
¡°We haven¡¯t seen bandits in ages,¡± Jordan said. ¡°Why did they come now and in such large numbers?¡±
¡°Who cares,¡± Fregi said. ¡°But we better prepare for the next time. We might see more later.¡±
¡°What? How come?¡± Jordan asked.
Fregi shrugged and walked to pick up the sword. It had been left on the ground. None of the villagers seemed like they wanted to touch it. He threw the sword deep into the woods surrounding the path. It spun and swooshed in the air before disappearing into the thicket.
Slate slapped his hands together with a resounding clap. Everyone jumped like they had been woken from a daydream.
¡°I¡¯m going to break out my first ever wheat beer. The first round is on the house!¡± he shouted.
Party on, Fregi!
¡°Three cheers for Fregi, Granite, Basalt, and especially Mick, who was the first to run away from all the bandits!¡± Slate shouted.
¡°It was uphill too!¡± Mick shouted.
People laughed, and Fregi reached up to slap Mick on the back. Mick was the farmer who had first spotted the bandits and ran to warn the rest of the village.
Mick grinned and toasted his mug of ale. Fregi, Granite and Basalt raised their mugs high and cheering erupted from all around the inn.
It was seldom that the village had a proper excuse to have a full-blown party, and everyone had been working hard for weeks. Everyone would also need to work hard for weeks to come, so the break was welcome. The previous party had been held when a single wolf had tried to grab a pig. Wolves rarely came near the village, so seeing one had been an event.
Unfortunately for the wolf, the pig had been a particularly large and angry hog and, in the end, had gored and stomped the would-be predator to death. The villagers hadn¡¯t managed to stop the pig from partly eating the wolf, too. Linn, the local doctor, had seemed worried, but nothing bad had at least yet happened.
They had thrown a party for the pig then and now the party was for everyone who had been involved with driving the bandits away. People had started drinking immediately after the attack, and Slate had pulled out all the barrels of wheat beer. It had been brewed from the first harvest of wheat that had been left over after all the planting.
Fregi took a swig from a mug of wheat beer. His eyes went wide, and he took another, slower swig. He closed his eyes and sighed a long, contented sigh.
Flint finished drinking his whole mug in one go. ¡°I¡¯ll have to give it to Slate. He really overdid himself this time,¡± he said and wiped his mouth with his sleeve.
¡°I thought you didn¡¯t like wheat beer,¡± Fregi said.
¡°Are you serious?¡± Flint said and looked at Fregi with a raised eyebrow. ¡°Didn¡¯t you just taste it?¡±
¡°I did. Yeah,¡± Fregi said and took another drink. The beer tasted like spring: sunshine, mild breeze, like some exotic fruit he had never seen or tasted. Fregi felt like he was two hundred years younger. Joy bubbled up in his chest. A small laugh escaped from his lips and he shook his head in disbelief. Maybe it was just all the excitement from the attack that did it, but the beer tasted better than any he had had in ages.
¡°Pretty good,¡± he said.
Flint spluttered.
¡°Play it as cool as you want, but you can¡¯t pretend this isn¡¯t amazing. Look at how people are knocking it back!¡±
Slate had managed to put together an impressive number of barrels in the weeks after the first harvest. Everything had gone off without a hitch. The malt had sprouted quickly, it had dried perfectly, and Slate had only grudgingly added some old barley malts into the mix. The wheat malt had looked too good to mix with anything else, but you needed to have some barley, too. Even with the amount of barrels, it seemed likely the inn would run empty this very night.
¡°What¡¯s up with them, though?¡± Flint said and pointed a stocky finger at a human couple having a discussion with Jordan.
¡°That is uncanny,¡± Fregi agreed.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
The Brineys were known for the fact they never left a party on their own two feet. They worked hard and played harder. Usually at this time, they would have been mostly crawling around and muttering something incomprehensible, but at the moment, they were discussing crop rotation and chicken feed in a reasonably sensible manner.
¡°Maybe Jordan is finally rubbing off on them,¡± Flint said and shrugged. ¡°You want another?¡±
¡°Obviously,¡± Fregi answered and handed his mug to Flint. He then nodded at Linn, who was making his way towards him through the crowd.
Linn Grim was the wiry doctor of the village. He moonlighted as a veterinarian. He was an older man with grey eyes and grey hair and a soft voice. Fregi still remembered when Linn had arrived and settled in B?ndelheim decades ago, but many human residents didn¡¯t. He was a permanent fixture of the village by this point. He stayed out of the village politics but was a friend of Fregi. Fregi would be sad to see him go eventually, but that was the way human and dwarven friendships went.
¡°Linn! Have you tried the beer?¡± he asked.
Linn smiled sadly and shook his head. He rubbed his hands together like he was washing them and stopped a bit nearer to Fregi than he normally would have. Maintaining a polite distance and being able to hear what the other person was saying was a challenge in the loud tavern.
¡°Fregi,¡± he greeted him. ¡°You know my stomach can¡¯t tolerate wheat. I took a sip and I know I¡¯m missing out, believe me.¡±
¡°Shame, shame,¡± Fregi said and glanced at Flint queuing.
Slate and her wife were swamped. The line to the counter snaked around and circled the room. Some people kept going directly back to the end of the queue after reaching the counter and getting a new mug of beer.
¡°There are going to be some sore heads in the morning in this village,¡± Linn said. He reached to drag a stool nearer and sat down on it to be on the same level as Fregi.
¡°A couple of bandits are going to have it worse,¡± Fregi said and chuckled.
Linn grimaced. ¡°I hear Basalt threw a mallet at one. Did they live? She has one hell of a throwing arm.¡±
¡°I think she held back. The guy managed to crawl away on his own.¡± Fregi said. ¡°Granite, on the other hand, really did a number on the leader.¡±
¡°Hmm?¡±
¡°Yeah, he threw a potato at her,¡± Fregi said and chuckled. ¡°You should have seen the way she dropped. Crack!¡± Fregi punched his fist on his palm and let the hand drop like the bandit leader had. ¡°She was completely out cold. They had to carry her off.¡±
¡°A potato?¡± Linn asked. ¡°You sure?¡±
¡°It was a really big potato,¡± Fregi said, and shrugged. ¡°Granite is a hell of a thrower as well.¡±
¡°Hmm,¡± Linn said and rubbed his jaw. ¡°Well, no matter. The main thing is that a real fight was avoided. You think they will be back?¡±
Fregi also rubbed his jaw. The difference was that he had a beard, unlike Linn. Fregi kept his beard short by dwarven standards, but it was thick and strong, like the fur of some wild animal.
¡°I¡¯m not certain. We showed we¡¯re no easy target. On the other hand, we have no real defences to speak off, and they did boast about bandits running loose for some reason.¡± Fregi said and took a look at the surrounding party. ¡°We can have this night, though. The bandits won¡¯t move anywhere without their leaders, and they will be out of commission for a while.¡±
¡°Good, I would hate to have a crisis when the villagers are¡ also out of commission.¡±
¡°Hehe, true. Will you head home before the throwing up begins?¡±
¡°Yeah, just remember to roll everyone unconscious on their side before going home yourselves,¡± Linn said and sighed.
Fregi chuckled and took another look around the room. He frowned.
¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± Linn asked.
¡°It¡¯s nothing. I just would expect to see some people in worse condition already. There hasn¡¯t been a single brawl yet. Jordan always takes it easy, but now he doesn¡¯t look even flushed yet.¡±
¡°Maybe people just don¡¯t feel like brawling after narrowly avoiding a real fight. I¡¯ve always said someone will get injured or worse one day at these parties,¡± Linn said and shook his head.
Fregi was about to answer when Flint arrived with three mugs of beer and shoved one at him.
¡°That took a sweet minute,¡± Fregi said, taking the mug from him.
¡°You saw the queue,¡± Flint said and offered the second mug to Linn. ¡°Doctor, will you have one with us?¡±
Linn smiled and rose. He bowed to the dwarves. Fregi could not avoid noting how Linn¡¯s bows had started to look a bit stiffer during the last few years.
¡°I was just about to head home. Enjoy the evening, gentlemen.¡±
¡°Thanks Linn, take care,¡± Fregi said.
¡°If he doesn¡¯t want it, I¡¯m happy to drink it for him,¡± Flint said. His own mug was already half drained.
So was Fregi¡¯s. ¡°I¡¯m going to go and queue up already,¡± he said.
Meanwhile in Tenorsbridge
Dalendor Per pressed down on his eyelids with his thumb and middle finger. He sighed and stretched and yawned. The tower room was cold, small and clammy, but at least it wasn¡¯t dark. Sunlight shone in through large windows.
Ashley Emberweave looked up from her side of the table. Her back was to the windows, and she had kept her cloak on. The sun made her auburn hair blaze. Outside, the impossible spires of the city of Tenorsbridge reached towards the sky. The draft made her papers flutter. ¡°You can rest if you want,¡± she said.
¡°I know, I know,¡± Dale answered. He rose and alternated stretching his arms over his chest. He did a few squats and then leaned on the table to take a breath.
¡°You should exercise more,¡± Ash said. ¡°That should not wind you.¡± Her dark brown eyes were stern, as they always were. The good side of the Scramble happening was that she encountered fewer people telling her to smile more.
¡°I know that too. It¡¯s just that all my stuff stopped working,¡± Dale said and glanced back at the corner of the room. There was a large chest filled with clothes. On top were a robe and a wizard¡¯s hat. It was the traditional cone like hat with a wide brim. They were riddled with holes in the places where the runes had burned out.
¡°You shouldn¡¯t replace exercise with enchantments,¡± she said and waved a hand dismissively. ¡°Just go do a lap around the tower.¡±
¡°Maybe after we get somewhere with this thing. Have you made any progress?¡±
Ash threw a stack of papers from her hand to the table and leaned on it with both elbows. She lowered her chin on the backs of her hands and stared at the papers. ¡°No,¡± she said and closed her eyes. ¡°Everything¡¯s gone. It¡¯s worse than anyone wanted to believe. No rune has kept its old meaning.¡±
¡°I¡¯m not sure the last part is actually true,¡± Dale said, steepling his fingers before his chest. His fingers resembled him in general: soft and delicate. He was clean-shaven, though Ash wasn''t sure how much it mattered in Dale''s case. His blond hair was parted in the manner of well-behaved upper-class boys of Tenorsbridge.
Ash opened her eyes and snapped her gaze at the young wizard. She squinted and blew air out of her nose so hard a paper on the desk moved. ¡°This isn¡¯t one of your weird theories again? Like the one about tiny teratomes going into your nose and causing the flu?¡±
¡°Well, I guess it might be one of those, yes,¡± Dale said and tapped his fingertips against each other, one at a time. ¡°But listen! Some runes are baked so deep into how everything works! You couldn¡¯t change them without altering how reality itself is. What if the rune of time would have been scrambled? Or the rune of death? Everything dead might rise up as an undead. Time itself might turn into¡ jelly or something.¡±
¡°No one has proven those kinds of runes exist,¡± Ash said. She pushed herself to sit straight and took a paper from her desk. It was filled with runes that had only slight variations from one symbol to the next. ¡°Let¡¯s concentrate on finding what we need and leave worrying about the fabric of reality to the Janitors.¡±
The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
¡°The vaults below the city are rumoured to house many forbidden runes,¡± Dale said. ¡°If they would just let us take a look, we could try to see if everything has changed or not.¡±
Ash drew a copy of one of the runes on a blank sheet of paper. She set a finger on it and channelled a miniscule amount of mana. It felt like cold water trickling under her skin towards her fingertip and dripping out into the rune. The rune glowed blue for a moment. Suddenly the paper grew thicker and turned into what resembled the foam that sometimes appears on sea beaches. Then the foam burst into flames.
¡°What use would there be in knowing if some runes had stayed the same?¡± Ash asked while pressing a damp towel on top of the burning foam. They had extra thick towels always on standby for just such situations. Green smoke rose billowed out from under her hands. ¡°Ugh, smells like this¡¯ll burn a hole straight through your nostrils into your brain,¡± she said, wincing.
¡°Guess we¡¯ll mark that down as not usable for now,¡± Dale said while fanning the air with his hand and coughing. He dabbed the corner of his eyes with his sleeve. ¡°But returning to your question, if we knew that some runes had stayed the same, it might mean this whole thing was intentional instead of being just a naturally occurring event,¡± he said after catching his breath again. ¡°It might be an attack on Tenorsbridge!¡±
¡°That is one of the more wild conspiracy theories I have heard in a while,¡± Ash said. ¡°And it¡¯s above our paygrade, anyway. We just need to find any runes on the priority list.¡±
¡°Fine, fine,¡± Dale said and pointed at the desk with all the papers. ¡°But this method is not working. The ratio of useful to cripplingly dangerous runes seems to be much worse than anyone wanted to think. One to thousands. Maybe to millions.¡±
¡°That¡¯s why we¡¯re careful,¡± Ash said and shrugged.
¡°That¡¯s not the point! I just think it¡¯s a waste of time and effort,¡± Dale said and waved his arm in a wide circle around the room. ¡°We could be here for years and never find a single usable rune.¡±
Ash set down the pen on the table and fixed Dale with her gaze. ¡°What do you suggest, then?¡± she asked.
¡°We get out there! Find some magic that still works. Maybe there¡¯s something completely new out there. We find it, extract the runes and we don¡¯t have to risk turning ourselves into slag or filling the room with poison or summoning a demon or something.¡± Dale swung his hand towards the window and the world waiting outside it.
¡°Too dangerous,¡± Ash said. ¡°Bandits know that even trying to use magic is forbidden at the moment. They target anyone coming from the city.¡±
¡°We wouldn¡¯t need to go out in pointy hats and bathrobes! We¡¯d go incognito. Pretend to be some poor wanderers or something,¡± Dale said. He walked around the room, gesturing with his hands. He mimed them walking up hills and pushing branches out of their way in a forest.
¡°And where do you think we would find any runes? It¡¯s not like they grow on trees. Except in the elven forest, but even you¡¯re not suggesting that.¡±
Dale sighed and sat back down in his chair. He breathed out and seemed to deflate. ¡°There is that, yeah,¡± he said. ¡°It¡¯s just that I really think that we won¡¯t get anywhere here either.¡±
¡°Dale, I hear what you¡¯re saying. But running randomly around the countryside is just even less likely to give us anything,¡± Ash said. ¡°It¡¯s only much more likely to get us killed.¡± She tossed the towel off the table and picked up her quill again.
Dale glanced at the desk that had a wide black circle burnt into its top. The towel had somehow lost its colour and turned grey while they had been talking.
Ash followed his gaze. ¡°Well, maybe not much more likely, but you get my point. Start scribing.¡±
Dale sighed and took a blank paper from the stack. He dipped his quill into the inkpot but let it rest above the paper while gazing towards the window, frowning.
Ash sighed and laid down her quill. ¡°If we hear anything promising, we consider looking into it. Ok?¡±
Smile lit up Dale¡¯s face. He crossed over the rune Ash had drawn earlier and squinted at the next one. ¡°Well then, until that, here goes experiment number 176,¡± he said and started drawing the next rune.
Pig Problems
Midday sun blazed down on the carcass. Air shimmered with heat and Linn was sweating. He waved a hand and his apprentice Boulder gave him a wet towel. Linn wiped first his brow on it and then his hands. He gave the blood-soaked towel back to Boulder, who took it without a moment¡¯s hesitation. Linn looked at his hands and inspected his nails that still had blood under them.
¡°Well?¡± Fregi asked. He was standing far enough from Linn and the dead pig to not smell them.
The hog had been restless for a while. It had drooled and gagged and stumbled about and been even more angry than it usually was. It had tried to gore Marble, which was unusual. Marble had been taking care of it since it was born and it had always behaved well towards him. The pig¡¯s stomach had looked swollen, and it had gagged and looked like it wanted to vomit.
At the end, it had seemed so pained that Marble decided to put it down. Linn was asked to find out what was wrong with the pig, and Fregi had tagged along. If there was something that would threaten the rest of the pigs in the village, he wanted to know.
¡°Was it the wolf? Puddings managed to eat so much of it. I just knew it would turn out to be bad for him, that goddamn mangy beast,¡± Marble said.
He was a sour dwarf and made sourer by the loss of his hog. It had sired many litters. If the meat couldn¡¯t be eaten because of some disease or infection, it would be a literal bloody waste.
¡°I don¡¯t think it had anything to do with the wolf,¡± Linn said. He had stopped investigating his fingernails and now looked at Marble in the eye. ¡°We would have seen some signs much earlier if that had anything to do with this. When did you say Pudding started to act weird?¡±
¡°Just a couple of days ago. He was fine at the beginning of the week at least,¡± Marble said.
Meanwhile, Boulder had gathered the tools and towels and taken them somewhere to be cleaned. Even if he was centuries older than Linn, he was his apprentice, and that meant he was responsible for handling the cleanup.
¡°That was when he chased Jordan¡¯s foreman into a tree,¡± Fregi said.
¡°All hale and hearty, yeah!¡± Marble said.
Linn chuckled.
No one liked Jordan¡¯s foreman much. He was a pompous man who wasn¡¯t even a local. He had been living in the village for just a decade or so. What was worse, he had a brother who worked in magic. Lonnek didn¡¯t speak much of him for obvious reasons, but the word was that the brother had had some problems at work recently. That had garnered no sympathy from the villagers.
¡°Right, that confirms it,¡± Linn said, now serious again. ¡°I wanted to be sure. The problem was that he had been eating rocks.¡±
¡°Rocks? Pigs eat rocks all the time,¡± Marble said.
¡°Yes, they chew rocks, but don¡¯t eat them by like this. Even his teeth were all shattered. I wonder how he managed to swallow some of the larger ones.¡± Linn nudged his head at a pile of bloody rocks. It was no gravel. The pile included a rock that was the size of a man¡¯s fist.
¡°Those all came out of him? That¡¯s pretty grim,¡± Fregi said and wrinkled his nose. ¡°Any ideas what could have caused him to do something like that?¡±
Linn shook his head. He ran a hand through his white hair and wiped his brow again. He then looked at his hand, but what blood there was left over had already dried. Linn still grimaced and crossed his arms over his chest. ¡°First I hear of anything like this. Any ideas, Marble? Anything that comes to mind just before Pudding started acting up?¡± he asked.
Marble scrunched up his brows with his fingers. ¡°Let¡¯s see,¡± he said, while rubbing his temples. ¡°There was that business with Lonnek. After that, he wandered off, and Basalt brought him back in the evening. Pudding had been digging around in their yard. Maybe he ate something unsuitable there that made him act funny. Made him start eating all those rocks?¡±
¡°Hmm, maybe,¡± Linn said. ¡°Fregi, want to ask Flint and Basalt how it went? Maybe it was best if the questions came from you.¡±
¡°Agreed. I will,¡± Fregi said. He sighed and looked at the carcass. Some flies already circled it. Boulder had come back and swung the towel around to shoo them off.
¡°How about the meat?¡± Marble asked. ¡°Good for eating?¡±
¡°Hmm, I¡¯m sorry but I wouldn¡¯t advice it. The rocks may have punctured... actually, maybe I don¡¯t need to go into details,¡± Linn said and rubbed his fingertips together. ¡°We would need to find out first what caused this first. If it¡¯s some weird disease he picked up, there¡¯s no telling if cooking the meat would make it safe to eat.¡±
Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.
Marble kicked a rock. It flew and clattered on the pile of bloody rocks nearby. He scrunched up his face and glanced at Linn below his brows.
Fregi lowered a hand on Marble¡¯s shoulder. ¡°It¡¯s a shame, but at least we¡¯re not hurting for food at the moment. The second wheat is soon ready to be harvested. We¡¯ll have enough to feed the whole village ten times over.¡±
Linn¡¯s mouth was a straight, thin line. ¡°We just have to be careful. We really don¡¯t want to be cutting any people open next just because we didn¡¯t want to waste some pork,¡± he said.
¡°Some prime pork, you mean,¡± Marble said. ¡°But you¡¯re right. I know you¡¯re both right. It¡¯s just such a shame, such a shame.¡±
Fregi patted Marble on the shoulder a couple of times. ¡°I¡¯ll go talk to Flint and Basalt next. I¡¯ll buy you a drink in the evening at the bachelor club, ok?¡±
Marble perked up and nodded at Fregi. ¡°Thanks. I can¡¯t stay late, though. Marjorie asked me to be home by sundown.¡±
¡°This has got to be the silliest bachelor¡¯s club in whole of Velonea,¡± Linn said.
¡°Fregi! Come to lend a hand, now that everything is ready?¡± Flint shouted as he watched Fregi walk up the path towards his terrace.
Flint had a mug in his hand and was sitting with his legs on the low railing. He smiled and looked somehow younger than before.
¡°Flint, have you lost some weight? Working hard on the fields suits you better than mining ever did,¡± Fregi said.
¡°Oof,¡± Flint said and chuckled. ¡°If I wasn¡¯t feeling this good, I¡¯d be insulted.¡± He took a sip from his mug and sighed deeply with his eyes closed.
¡°Isn¡¯t it a bit early for that?¡± Fregi asked.
¡°You start by commenting on my weight and move on to my ways of relaxing?¡± Flint said and laughed out loud.
¡°I just envy you, that¡¯s all,¡± Fregi said with a smirk. He climbed the stairs to the terrace with a groan.
It was a leftover from the earlier human farmer and the steps were high for a dwarf. Fregi sat on the rocking chair next to Flint and let his gaze rest on the golden field of wheat.
¡°Can¡¯t believe all this was barley just six weeks ago,¡± Flint said and waved his hand at the field.
¡°Seems we owe Jordan a thank you for the idea. All the wheat fields are blooming,¡± Fregi said.
Flint blew air out of his nose and shrugged with one shoulder.
¡°Guess so,¡± he said. ¡°Still, any reason you¡¯re visiting? Will you stay for lunch?¡±
¡°Thanks, maybe I will. What are you cooking? It smells mouthwatering.¡±
The aroma wafting out from the kitchen conjured up images of a feast. Fresh bread, a mix of early summer vegetables and just the right amount of grease. Basalt hummed something in the kitchen.
¡°Just something basic I threw together. All the recipes seem to have come together brilliantly lately. Basalt has been baking. Even her breads finally turn out ok.¡±
Fregi chuckled and drew in another big gulp of the smell. Then he grunted and stopped rocking. ¡°Wait, I actually had a reason for coming,¡± he said. ¡°You remember when Marble¡¯s hog got loose and ended up all the way here?¡±
¡°Sure, that big brute,¡± Flint said. ¡°Basalt told me she had a hell of a time shooing it off our spare plot. She told it went through the plot like it was full of truffles or something, heh.¡±
¡°He got sick soon after. Died today,¡± Fregi said.
¡°Damn, Marble is going to be sulking for a week,¡± Flint said. He was about to take another sip, but stopped and looked at Fregi. ¡°Wait, do you think it had something to do with its visit here?¡±
¡°I think nothing at the moment. Only thing I know is that it was nasty and that Linn was confused by the whole thing. We¡¯re just trying to make sure that the village is safe. Nothing contagious going around.¡±
¡°Right, makes sense. But I don¡¯t think it can be the plot. We don¡¯t really even have anything growing there. We dumped some early left over vegetables there after ripping them all up for the wheat too,¡± Flint said and pointed a thumb towards the area behind the house.
¡°When have you last been there, darling?¡± Basalt asked. She had stepped outside with a splitting axe in one hand and an empty basket for firewood in the other.
¡°I can¡¯t even remember. How come?¡± Flint asked.
¡°Maybe you should go take a look,¡± Basalt said and jumped down the stairs in one go.
Flint looked at Fregi and shrugged.
Fregi shrugged back.
The plot was impenetrable. The carrot stalks reached Fregi up to the chest. Spinach grew thick and dark green like a forest seen from high above. One corner of the plot looked like it had been tilled over by a madman and potato plants were strewn all around the ground.
¡°Well, I¡¯ll be,¡± Flint said.
¡°Isn¡¯t it way too early for carrots to be this big?¡± Fregi said.
¡°I thought this was a nearly barren plot of land. We had a plan to make it into something next year, but look at it now,¡± Flint said. He had raised both hands to the top of his bald head and was rubbing it in confusion.
¡°Maybe the pig got so excited about all this that it ate the rocks with the potatoes?¡± Fregi suggested and scratched his head as well.
¡°This field is so rocky that it might make sense,¡± Flint said. He knelt to lift up a potato plant. ¡°There seems to be nothing wrong with these. I¡¯m not the expert, though.¡±
¡°Potato expert?¡± Fregi asked. ¡°Who¡ oh, right.¡±
¡°You can take it to Heck for inspection, if you want,¡± Flint said and offered the plant to Fregi.
¡°I think we¡¯ll go with the explanation that Pudding just got too excited for his own good. This field looks amazing.¡±
¡°Worst one I have,¡± Flint said. ¡°That was not supposed to be a boast, but it did sound like one, didn¡¯t it?¡±
Fregi laughed and slapped Flint on the back. ¡°You¡¯re coming in the evening?¡±
¡°Absolutely,¡± Flint said. ¡°It¡¯s Basalt turn to watch the baby tonight.¡±
An angry scream from inside the house rattled the windows.
¡°Oh, it¡¯s awake,¡± Flint said. ¡°Unfortunately, it¡¯s my turn before the evening.¡±
¡°I¡¯ll help Basalt with the firewood,¡± Fregi said and slapped Flint on the shoulder. ¡°Good luck. Take care.¡±
¡°You coward. But thanks, I¡¯m going to need it,¡± Flint said and headed inside.
Bachelor Party
¡°Look, I just don¡¯t have the mental energy for courtship at the moment,¡± Fregi said. He pushed away a miniature portrait that Boulder was trying to show to him. It featured a young blond dwarf girl who was somehow related to Boulder.
¡°You¡¯ve been saying that for at least a century,¡± Boulder said and put away the portrait. ¡°She¡¯s not getting any younger, you know.¡±
¡°Especially as the portrait is at least two centuries old at this point,¡± Flint said from the other end of the counter.
All the six bachelors joined in on the laughter. They were the original group of dwarven refugees who had arrived at B?ndelheim back in the day. They had all been male, so they had formed a club to help each other find wives and to have company to talk to in their new and otherwise human home. For the longest time, it had led to nothing. There were no other dwarves they could find. The first dwarf-human child broke the dam. The dwarves realised they could have families, after all.
At the moment, Fregi was the only bachelor left. The meetings were now mostly spent on telling stories about what everyone¡¯s kids and grandkids had been up to and heckling Fregi about finally settling down.
¡°There are many nice humans in the village too at the moment,¡± Granite said. ¡°Old Lanster¡¯s widow, for example. She¡¯s about sixty, so why not take her up for a decade or two? You¡¯d get this lot off your backs.¡±
¡°Granite! That¡¯s absolutely morbid,¡± Slate said. He had eight children at the moment. Six were older than his current wife, Frida, and had families of their own. They visited B?ndelheim only rarely, but when they did, they brought their whole families and the parties were legendary. Slate filled up a mug from a smaller keg and passed it to Linn. ¡°Here you go, doctor.¡±
¡°Thank you, Slate,¡± Linn said. He threw off his light jacket and sat next to Fregi at the counter.
As most of the beer in the village was wheat beer at the moment, Slate had brewed a personal batch for Linn using just barley. As a real bachelor, Linn had been accepted into the bachelor¡¯s club as an honorary member. That meant he had to have something to drink as well. The beer brewed for Linn was good, but even Flint agreed it couldn¡¯t hold a candle to this year¡¯s wheat beer.
Flint thumped Granite on the head with his fist. There was general laughter at the suggestion. Granite, like all the dwarves except Flint and Fregi, was married to a human. He would outlive her wife by centuries, most likely. It was a sad part of all serious dwarven-human relationships, but people accepted it as part of life.
¡°It¡¯s not like Fregi could hold that woman down long enough anyways,¡± Boulder said. ¡°She¡¯s quick on her feet, that one.¡±
¡°Slate. Her marriage lasted 19 years. You can¡¯t still be sore about Hank,¡± Flint said.
¡°Hank was a wonderful man, and it was a dirty trick to change him for a teenager,¡± Boulder said and nodded. His jaw was set firmly.
¡°Lanster was over forty when they married,¡± Linn said and took a long drink from his mug.
¡°Well, who can keep track anyways,¡± Boulder said. ¡°People change spouses like socks these days.¡±
¡°Once in two decades?¡± Granite asked.
¡°If socks were made like they used to be, then why not,¡± Boulder said and took a drink.
There was more laughter. Fregi grabbed a mug of beer and took it to Marble. He had been quiet, but that was usual. Now Fregi felt he should at least try to lighten his mood.
¡°Here, grab another one,¡± he said and thrust the mug at Marble. ¡°Did you manage to clean up the mess and... handle things?¡±
Marble accepted the mug and nodded at Fregi. He took a gulp, and a smile cracked his lips. He looked like he was trying to fight it, but even he couldn¡¯t keep his face straight.
Marble shook his head. He took another gulp and sighed. ¡°It¡¯s still a shame and a bloody waste and I¡¯m not really in the mood for light banter about widows,¡± he said. ¡°But the beer is good.¡±
¡°That it is. How has it been going otherwise?¡± Fregi asked.
Marble shrugged.
¡°Can¡¯t complain, can¡¯t complain. I managed to get just half a field of the wheat, so I have to wait for the rest of my harvest like a peasant. The crops are going to be good, though. No pests, no mould, none of the usual annoyances,¡± he said, counting the missing troubles with his fingers. ¡°Birds are going wild for the fields but I built a new scarecrow from Marjorie¡¯s old dress.¡±
Fregi nodded along. He had heard the same story from all the farmers in the village. The wheat was growing like crazy. Other crops also, though not as violently vigorously as the wheat. Fregi wasn¡¯t much of a farmer himself. He had his garden plot, but it was mostly for herbs, garlic, and such.
Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.
¡°And my animals have been keeping well,¡± Marble said. His face went dark for a moment, but he took another drink and continued. ¡°Not everyone can say the same of their animals, though.¡±
Fregi perked up.
¡°What do you mean? Someone else¡¯s pig got sick too?¡±
¡°Nothing like what happened to Pudding,¡± Marble said, and his frown deepened again for a moment. ¡°It¡¯s just that Jordan¡¯s wife said that their chickens are laying fewer eggs than usual. She said they¡¯ve tried feeding them more and they seem happy and eat up everything, but there¡¯s just fewer eggs every week.¡±
¡°Huh, hope that¡¯s not anything serious. But at least it can¡¯t be related to what happened to Pudding. Completely different symptoms. Right, Linn?¡± Fregi shouted to the other side of the counter.
Linn didn¡¯t seem to hear him. The old man was looking at the door and frowning harder than Fregi had seen in a moment.
¡°Linn? Something up?¡± Fregi asked.
¡°There¡¯s some commotion outside,¡± Linn said.
The room became quiet. Dwarven voices were powerful, but maybe because of that, their hearing was not that good. Now that the discussions died down, they could hear shouting from outside. Someone was running towards the tavern. The stomping of boots on the gravel path was coming closer. Fregi waved a hand at the group to keep still and crept towards the door.
The stomping stopped, and the door was flown open. Basalt stood behind it with her huge axe in her hand. She took a look around the room.
¡°Everyone here?¡± she asked.
¡°Yeah, what¡¯s going on, Basalt?¡± Fregi asked.
¡°The bandits are back,¡± she said.
Fregi lifted the ripped sack into the air. Grains poured out of the hole and mixed with the mud and debris the bandits had left behind.
¡°How did the bandits know where to strike?¡± Jordan practically screamed.
¡°Jordan, this is the only granary in the village,¡± Fregi said. He couldn¡¯t keep the strain from his voice. ¡°There¡¯s no other place to strike if you were after the food.¡±
¡°But...¡±
¡°The bandits knew that the food was the most important thing to steal in B?ndelheim,¡± Fregi cut in. ¡°The caravan that went out before the first harvest must have talked. Word must have spread.¡±
Jordan pushed hands into his face and his breathing slowed down. He lowered his hands and took a look around the scene.
Fregi waited for Jordan to calm himself down. Jordan was second in the loose power structure of the village. The Rye family had always been important, but they concentrated on local matters. Fregi was a trader, and that made his personal pond bigger and him a bigger fish in the pond of B?ndelheim.
There had still always been some tension between him and Jordan. Fregi tried not to care, but he also knew he was the better elder for the village. Jordan was too stuck in some of the old ways, he thought. The old ways were something Fregi had seen come and go, so he knew some of them had been left behind for a reason. He guessed he had his own issues that he couldn¡¯t let go. Fregi shook himself out of his revelry. This was not the moment to be thinking about politics or magic.
¡°How much did we lose?¡± Fregi asked. ¡°How much did they get?¡±
¡°Everything in the granary. So far I haven¡¯t heard the bandits taking anything else, so everyone still has their personal storages,¡± Basalt said. After fetching Fregi and the bachelors, she had kept running and collecting people and news around the village. She wasn¡¯t even sweating, even though she had only barely arrived back.
¡°They got enough for a caravan,¡± Jordan said between clenched teeth. ¡°The whole granary was filled to the brim. Wheat mostly. There wasn¡¯t much else, if that¡¯s any consolation, but it¡¯s not.¡± He spat out the last words.
¡°What are they going to do with it?¡± Fregi asked, but stopped himself. He waved a hand to brush off the question. ¡°We can think about that later. How did they do it, Basalt?¡±
Basalt snapped to attention. Fregi winced, and Basalt shrugged.
¡°Sorry, old habit,¡± she said and chuckled. ¡°It probably wasn¡¯t too hard, to be frank. We don¡¯t really have a proper watch set up and, as you know, no proper defences. They could have crept in from basically any direction, one by one. Forced the lock to the granary once the whole band was present. Basic smash and grab, but well planned and executed. They emptied the whole place in one go.¡±
¡°No one noticed anything?¡± Fregi asked.
¡°Not before it was too late,¡± Basalt said. ¡°One of the Jordan¡¯s farmhands saw the group running away. He alerted the foreman, who alerted Jordan, and so on. The farmhand had already seen them move about earlier but hadn¡¯t realised what he was seeing, because at that point it had just looked like some people walking about the town.¡±
Jordan kicked a nearby bucket that clattered somewhere into the night. Everyone jumped at the sudden noise. ¡°Damn that nitwit,¡± he said. ¡°We lost a full harvest because of him.¡±
Fregi shook his head. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t blame him. The fault is ours for not organising proper lookouts. More likely he would have just got himself killed if he had gone looking closer.¡±
Jordan huffed, but stayed silent.
Fregi glanced around the square where the granary stood. The bachelors had all followed him. More villagers gathered slowly. Angry and disappointed shouts sounded as people learned what had happened.
¡°Let¡¯s find them and beat up the whole lot!¡± someone shouted. The shouting started to spread and people brandished tools and makeshift weapons in the air.
Jordan¡¯s jaw was working, and his nose was flared.
Basalt looked at Fregi and cleared her throat. ¡°We got to calm the people down. Going after them would be lethally stupid,¡± she said.
Fregi nodded and breathed in deep.
¡°PEOPLE!¡± he shouted.
There was a ripple as everyone flinched and took a step away from Fregi. After all the commotion, the silence was deafening.
¡°Everyone is angry, and for a good reason!¡± Fregi began. ¡°We¡¯ve been raided and looted. Our home has been violated.¡±
¡°Yeah!¡± someone shouted.
¡°BUT,¡± Fregi shouted through the murmuring that had begun again. ¡°Going after armed bandits in the dark is suicide. That might be exactly what they want. We can¡¯t leave the village undefended in case they circle back!¡±
¡°Are we just going to let them get away with this?¡± a man shouted.
¡°What are we going to eat?¡± a woman shouted.
¡°No one is going to starve!¡± Fregi said. ¡°We will pool our food like we did during the bad years. We will stick together and help each other.¡±
¡°We can¡¯t just let the bandits go,¡± Basalt said under her breath. ¡°People will not stand for it.¡±
¡°I know, I know,¡± Fregi said and turned back to the crowd. ¡°People! We¡¯re not running into the night to get ourselves ambushed and killed! But we¡¯re absolutely not going to take this lying down! The bandits will pay!¡±
There was a cheer, but Fregi continued talking over it. ¡°We¡¯re farmers and husbands and wives. We will concentrate on what¡¯s important: replacing our losses and growing more food than ever! But we¡¯ll also burn redsap until we¡¯ve got all the mercenaries in the area sweeping the lands and hunting down bandits. They will sing songs of how B?ndelheim culled their lands to the last robber who drew breath!¡±
Bonus: Janitor illustration
I had a vote earlier on what art to commission based on the story. Here¡¯s the first one. The scene where Fjiel, Janitor East of Tenorsbridge, is climbing in to drop cryptic hints at Ash and Dale (see chapter A Revelation for this scene).
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
Also let this be a heads-up, that the novel is going to be stubbed at some point. It¡¯s going to be published on Amazon and KU so I will have to take it off from here when that happens. So try to read up, if you want to check out this version! The published version is going to be a more polished version than what was posted here, so if you have KU, maybe check it out there also!
Stub incoming: ARCs open!
Hi, this is a second heads-up that the work will be stubbed at some point before 10th September. That''s when the ebook is going to be released on Amazon and put to Kindle Unlimited too.
But not to worry! If you would like to finish the book (and perhaps take your time with it) AND get the professionally formatted and much improved and edited version of the story, I''m running an ARC at Booksirens! Just grab your copy of the finalised Grand Harvest here!
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
I''ll still be posting at least one more chapter for some more artwork and reminding you about the stub and the ARC later.
Bonus: Robe of Slavery art commission
Here¡¯s a second art commission from the novel! This one¡¯s straight from the mines.
Remember that the novel is going to be stubbed before 10th September so finish reading before that! If you want to check out the final version with proper editing and amazing inside formatting, head to BookSirens and grab the ARC or head directly to Amazon to rate or review the story, so more people can find the book once it¡¯s properly out! ?? It would be help me out a ton! Thank you!
If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.
Stub Imminent!
Hi, final warning and reminder that the work will be stubbed tomorrow. If you have read the story and enjoyed it, please rate it on Amazon! This would help me out a ton and I would appreciate it hugely!
If you haven¡¯t yet finished the book, you can still do it for a while by grabbing an ARC from Booksirens even if the work is already stubbed here! There I have the fully edited and professionally formatted version of the book which I think is much improved over the first version posted here.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
The book will be part of Kindle Unlimited, so you can also grab it for free if you have that.
Thank you again (and please rate the story on Amazon ??)!
Bonus content for new story!
If you''re still here, you might be interested in my new story! It''s a (lot) more action packed adventure with time loops and magic, but it happens in the same Velonea world as Grand Harvest.
Also! The main character is Locke the hunter from Grand Harvest! Only some 30 years earlier, when he''s a young whippersnapper just leaving on his first adventure. If you liked the quick glimpse we saw of a Tenorsbridge Janitor earlier, you''ll love this one. I''ll be secretly sharing some art here to give you an early access preview of stuff that is to come.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
To start us off, here''s a teratome, Velonea''s native monster type. Every teratome is different, every teratome is awful. They are basically living clumps of cancer, kept together by magic. Teratomes were mentioned once in Grand Harvest but you''ll actually get to meet some in the next story.
Lovely, innit?