Dungeon 42

Setting out

Chapter 129

Elim knew there were worse things in the world than sitting in an open carriage, particularly the one he happened to be in. The carriage was odd, with an open top and a tent-like cover spread over metal frames that could be raised if they wanted shade. It was one of Mistress 42's inventions. It rode smoother than any other carriage Elim had ever seen, and the padded bench seats were comfortable.

If not for the jingle of the tack keeping Elim from a nap, it might well have been pleasant. It was a warm, beautiful day, and Tiller had rested her head on his shoulder while she spied through Storm's eyes. Really, if his mother, Erica, would stop looking over approvingly, all would have been right with the world.

Elim kept his dissatisfaction to himself. The only thing sillier than his blushing over nothing would have been complaining about it. His mother would have laughed at him for it, and he'd have deserved it.

Uninterested in the adults, Bess was having the best time watching the countryside roll by from her grandmother's lap. As if realising it had an audience, the forest was in rare form. Flowers, butterflies, rabbits, every pretty thing was present and accounted for.

"Can we have wabbit fer dinner?" Bess asked excitedly. She'd traded a tooth scraping with some village kids for a lisp. The kids back in Selton knew better than to pick a fight with her. The boy who'd pulled her hair had learned.

Elim followed his daughter's line of sight and found a fat rabbit ambling in the grass. As if wolves and wild cats were a foreign concept locally.

"That's a monster," Tiller said as she sat up. Elim offered her lemon candy, and she accepted it gratefully. Switching perspectives played havoc with her stomach.

"Really?" Erica asked in surprise.

"It's got little horns. Still tastes good, just harder to catch since they fight back," Tiller explained. Elim couldn't see the horns but knew better than to question Tiller on the point. She'd been scouting the area through Storm's eyes. The demonic hawks were sharper than even a natural bird of the same kind.

"I'm not surprised. This whole area is rich in magic. We'll probably see other things like it," Elim added. He'd been practising using his Magus Eyes and had a handle on the basics. Elementals and monsters were attracted to and fed on mana, so where it was thick was where they would gather.

Not that either was entirely stuck in one place. Monsters could get by eating other creatures and roaming where they liked. Elementals couldn't unless they formed a core, but once they did, all bets were off. Things he’d learned courtesy of 42 and was glad to know.

"Should we expect trouble?" Graham asked from the driver's bench. He was one of the four men Elim had hired to help with moving.

Graham, Sven, August, and Tim were all former Savex soldiers Elim had met during his service. Graham had a bad leg after a break was set poorly. He'd been keen on finding work outside the infantry when Elim showed up.

Sven, August, and Tim had all been in similar situations. They were injured enough that soldiering as they once had wasn't easy and likely would become impossible before long. A problem that wasn't uncommon for ex-soldiers.

Elim could have had a regiment worth of men if he'd felt like hunting around for them. He'd picked the four because he knew them better than most, and they'd lived close to Selton. Now they were riding behind the carriage in a wagon.

"Nothing serious before nightfall. We'll be at our stop or the next town before then," Tiller offered. Graham nodded, taking her word since he knew she was a scout.

True to Tiller's estimate, a few wispy plumes of smoke in the distance gave away that the small caravan was approaching a town. Their destination lay before it, along a side road. Turning off the main road, it wasn't long before another plume of smoke appeared.

"Graham, hold here," Elim said as a bead of sweat rolled down his back. He'd been expecting an abandoned estate, not an occupied one.

Graham signalled the stop to the wagon and then did as he was ordered. He watched Elim get down from the carriage but didn't ask why. He'd been hired as a driver and laborer, but travel came with unpredictable dangers. Intentions aside, some fighting along the way was expected.

"Tiller, take a look?" Elim asked softly enough that even his mother wouldn't overhear, let alone Graham. She nodded, then changed her position to lay on the bench.

"Trouble?" Sven asked when Elim walked over.

"Hopefully not, but I see smoke," Elim explained. Erica had left home over sixteen years prior. Her father, the old Baronnet, had eventually died a few years after that. So the place should have been empty unless squatters had taken up residence.

"Sven, August? Do you mind coming with me?" Elim asked. He was already opening a small chest of weapons, and when the men agreed, he handed them spears and bucklers. They already had short swords belted on, but they'd been trained with spears primarily. They just weren't practical to have out in a moving wagon, so they'd been put up in the unlocked chest, still in easy reach.

Elim considered the sight of the men he'd hired gearing up. They weren't people he felt close to, but soldiers had an essential camaraderie even when they hated each other. He was a fighter now rather than a warrior but seeing them getting ready for a fight without complaint was reassuring.

Elim didn't want trouble and didn't intend to start any. Still, working for house Savex had taught him it was always best to come well-armed and in force to ensure that.

While Sven and August were getting ready, Elim headed back to the wagon. Tiller was sitting up, meaning she'd finished at least basic recon. Standing next to it, Elim found himself in the interesting position of having Tiller lean over the side to whisper to him this time.

"Looks like fifteen folks. Men, women, and kids. Lightly armed, mostly tools, going about chores," Tiller explained softly. She knew better than to think a tool wasn't a weapon but to make the distinction for reference. She also had hazel eyes that were unfairly pretty up close.

"Alright… Stay with them, please?" Elim asked, looking away in hopes she wouldn't see him blush. They hadn't talked properly, but he'd already gone back on his word about sending Tiller off when his family left Selton. She hadn't brought it up either in the week since. Instead, while they were on the road, she'd bedded down with his mother and Bess as if she'd always been there.

"Course," Tiller said. She stood up, lifting the seat to get at the crossbow and spears stored under it. Erica, by contrast, laid down, looking a bit annoyed but otherwise fine. Bess squirmed to get comfortable in her grandmother's arms. They'd discussed safety before, and that meant getting low.

"Graham, get turned around and head for the town. The rest of us will catch up with you there once we know what's happening," Elim said. Sven and August joined him a few moments later, and they watched the wagon and carriage set off the way they'd come before they started walking.

"How we doin' this, boss?" August asked.

"We see who's there quietly. If it's not bandits, I'll talk with them, friendly-like, while you two wait in case of trouble," Elim explained. Tiller had already looked things over, but they didn't tell him who the people were or their intentions.

"If they ain't friendly?" Sven asked.

"I back off. If they don't want to let me, you help me convince them to, and we run for it," Elim said with a shrug. He wasn't about to get into a scrap over the house, but he wanted to understand the situation before he did anything drastic like ask for the local militia's help. He didn't know them personally, and there were women and kids involved.

"Fair," Sven said with a shrug. All of them were soldiers, but none of them were inclined to start a needless fight. They'd all seen enough death to know how easily it happened, no matter how well-prepared you thought you were.

Creeping up on the manor, Elim was a bit surprised. It was a large two-story building in good condition. The roof was intact, and the paint wasn't even peeling. Squatters didn't usually maintain things so well as that.

"Weird," August offered. Elim had told the men what he expected to find when he hired them. This wasn't it at all.

"Little bit," Elim agreed. They kept creeping through the woods surrounding the yard until they could see into the back lot. That's where things got properly strange.

Like Tiller had said, a mass of people was going about their chores. It looked like a small village at work, and they were all dressed rather well. The adults, in particular, had a green article of clothing, such as an apron or vest. Most of those even had grey trees embroidered on them.

It was livery. The entire lot of them were wearing Silvertree livery.