Kazan – Shadow Warriors (Part 40)

Part 40

Trapper’s Farewell

          The Trapper led them down the slope towards the city of Belford. Like most towns in Calta, Belford was dominated by single story building of wood, each topped with large slabs of slate. The few people out in the early evening hours watched them curiously before quickly returning to their tasks.

          “I will introduce you to an old friend of mine,” the Trapper said. “Tomorrow, I’ll take my leave.”

          The lane, which the Trapper led them down, ran through the entirety of the town and continued out further west before entering once again into the forest wilds. As the group passed by; grim eyes peered through partially opened doors and from behind the grey curtains which decorated many homes. It was only after they passed most of the city that the Trapper gestured towards their destination.

          Unlike most of the buildings, the one he took them to was a large two story tavern with a massive sign bearing a gray hairy goat, slowly eating grass.

          “The Grazing Goat,” the Trapper introduced as he entered the building.

          “Well, I’ll be,” the Tavern Keep said, setting down the towel he was using to wipe his counter. “What brings you though these parts?”

          “A job,” the Trapper said, gesturing back to the girl and Uncle Ben who entered behind him. “They’ll need a place to stay and some work over the winter.”

          “I’ve been needen’ a new hand, since the last one left me,” the Tavern Keep said, then glancing at the girl, nodded approvingly. “Well, yer pretty enough for the job, just don’t go breaking my plates and you’ll do fine.”

          “The Lass has a Kazan, which can be quite protective at times,” the Trapper warned.

          “Well, I’ve seen my share of rowdy young Kazans and Masters,” the Tavern Keep said. “If any man lays a finger on her then it’s their fault and that’s what I’ll tell the Marshal; just be careful. The Marshal tolerates no uncalled for violence.”

          “You don’t mind me having a Kazan?” the girl asked, surprised.

          “You meet all sorts in my line of work,” he said. “Most travelers in these parts have some Kazan or another protecting them.”

          “Just don’t let your Kazan too far off his leash,” the Trapper said. “He may not look like much but my friend here can hold himself up in any fight.”

          “Oh,” the girl said.

          “Enough talk,” the Tavern Keep said. “I’ll have a busy night so I’ll show you to your room then I want you to clean all the tables.”

          With a loud huff he trotted away followed quickly by the girl and more slowly by Uncle Ben. The room he showed them was rather spacious. He mentioned that most of his table hands had used it, including the last one who had married herself off to a wealthy Trapper and had moved far south, though he could not remember where.

          After they had set their packs down, the girl left to begin cleaning, as she was asked. The Tavern Keep began discussing with Uncle Ben on how to make himself useful, which included fixing a fence in the stables and patching some barrels, which were prone to leaking. By the time the Tavern Keep returned to the bar, the Trapper had helped himself to mug of ale.

          “Any other Trapper stopped by?” the Trapper said between sips.

          “I’m afraid business has been slow on that front,” the Tavern Keep said. “And what do you plan to do?”

          “I’m a Trapper,” he laughed. “There’s still money to be made, and there is still time left in the season.

          “Be careful,” the Tavern Keep said. “I don’t need to warn you of the danger of winter.”

          “Don’t worry so much. I’ll winter in my Fox Hole near Kelder.”

          “A fox hole?” the girl asked.

          The Trapper gave a brief chuckle before answering. “Not a real fox hole, lass. It is a term we Trappers use for a cabin to wait out the winter. In fact there should be one just a few days north of here.”

          The Trapper leaning back, thinking it over a moment before continuing, “I should show you where it is on a map later, you never know if you’ll need it.”

          “Am I allowed to use it?” the girl asked.

          “Leave it as you found it,” the Trapper shrugged, “We Trappers know what it is like in winter, and while we try to stay near our own Fox Holes, if we are stranded near another Trapper’s; none of us would hesitate to shelter in it.”

          After that the Trapper returned his attention to his drink, while after seeing he was not going to continue, the girl returned to cleaning the tables. The tavern was empty, but as the day began to wane and tradesmen and labor hands finished their work for the day, many found their way to the tavern.

          Some came because they had no one to cook for them at home and simply wanted an easy meal. Others wanted a drink before returning to their families. Still others simply wanted the company of old friends they have never met.

          As the crowd began to build the Tavern Keep motioned for the girl, “Take the rest of the night to rest, you must be tired of all the travel, I will send your servant after you with something to sustain you.”

          “His name is Sworder,” the girl said turning.

          “It’s the same thing to me,” the Tavern Keep said with a shrug.

          The girl slipped into the back and hurried to the room the Tavern Keep had provided.

          When she arrived, Uncle Ben was napping in a chair. The girl threw herself on the bed, and she enjoyed the first soft bed since the inn at the port town of Saghaven. A few moments passed before Sworder entered carrying a small platter of Bread and Cheese complemented by a bowl of soup which was mostly broth.

          “Thank you, Sworder,” the girl said quickly sitting up.

          “You have made yourself at home,” Sworder said.

          “Well, we plan to be here for sometime,” the girl said beginning to eat.

          “I’m glad,” Sworder said, before leaving.

          “What’s with him?” Ranin asked.

          “He may simply be relieved that the danger of travel has finally passed,” Namic said.

          Even as Namic was talking, a long howl pierced the evening sky, ringing loudly and mournfully from far beyond the city’s walls. The girl silently looked through the window.

          “It sounds so lonely,” she said to herself.

          At the same moment one of the Tavern Keep’s patrons set down his mug and shivered, “The Grim is at it again.”

          The next day came quickly for the girl and so did news that the Trapper was leaving.

          “You’re going already!” the girl exclaimed.

          “I have already warned you. And as I said before, lassie, the season is ending and I still have some more work to do,” he responded.

          “Just remember all the wealth in the world won’t help you if you’re dead,” the Tavern Keep said.

          The Trapper gave him a wolfish grin before shouldering his pack and leaving the Tavern with the girl slowly following. “How far do you plan to trail me?” he asked.

          “I thought it would be sad if you left without anyone seeing you off.”

          “You don’t have to worry about that, my dear,” said a tall stranger sauntering up. The Trapper gave a sigh before the man continued, “Good friend, you thought you could leave without first introducing me to the newcomers, you brought all this way?”

          The girl looked back and forth between the two men curiously confused. The Stranger noticed her hesitation and introduced himself. “I am the Marshal of this fine town, I welcome you to Belford. Pollen!”

          “I thought you would never ask,” a Pixie said flying over his shoulder, “Pollen at your service,” he said with a flip of his small hat. He was clad in leathers, but his boots and hat were comically oversized for his small frame.

          The girl curtsied in response and when she rose she remembered, “Oh, a Pixie named Leaf wanted me to say hello,” she said.

          Pollen’s face became a few shades redder and he stomped angrily in the air. “You meany.”

          The girl looked at the Marshal as he laughed, “Forgive him, it is traditional among Pixies to return gifts or greetings in kind, which means poor Pollen here must find a way to greet our little Leaf back.” Then turning to the Trapper asked, “I assume you stopped by your usual stop… or?”

          “I had not originally planned to but things went out of my control,” the Trapper shrugged, “And they have a new Marshal.”

          “I am not surprised, the old man was getting… well, old,” the Marshal said. “Us Marshals need some young blood.”

          “He’s not going to get away with this,” Pollen said, still brooding. “I’ll get him. Maybe I’ll send him a flower crown or a bracelet along with my greeting.”

          “Let him plot in peace,” the Marshal said, turning to the girl, “I have heard a little about you and your supposed, ‘interesting Kazan’.”

          “Um, yes,” the girl said uncertain.

          “News travels fast here,” the Marshal laughed, “But do not worry, I hold no ill feelings towards your Kazan whether he prowls behind you or not.”

          The girl looked behind her and there stood Sworder eyeing the Marshal crossly, “Ah, yes, this is Sworder,” she said.

          The Marshal nodded a greeting to Sworder and then returned his attention to the girl. “My advice is never hide your Kazan.”

          “What?”

          “Belford is not as bad as some of the smaller villages; we, after all, got a large number of Trappers traveling through. However, if you hide that you have a Kazan. Some will wonder what else you hide.”

          “I’ll… remember that,” the girl said hesitantly.

          The Trapper grunted, “I should be off now.” With that the Trapper turned. “Come on Grota,” he said and the thin figure of Grota joined him, the two started off towards the west.

          “He’s an interesting man, that’s for sure,” the Marshal said, then turning back to the girl he gave a quick nod. “Welcome to Belford once again, but I must be on my way myself; Pollen!”

          Pollen jumped from where he was floating, plotting silently. He quickly waved at the girl and Sworder with both hands before flying after the Marshal still muttering to himself.

          “Well, Sworder,” the girl said, “We should get going. We have chores to do.”

          “So what do you think,” Ranin said. “Is this the end of their story?”

          “Unlikely,” Namic said. “While the winter here is long, I doubt it will lock her in; but nevertheless, it shall be interesting to see our old friend and his Master learn even more about each other.”

          “I guess,” Ranin said. “But I feel like I’ll be increasingly bored.”

          “This is still Calta,” Namic reminded. “There are still things which can happen.”

          “But that’s the Marshal’s job.”

          “Normally you would be right, but there are things a Marshal may find difficult,” Namic said.

          “Oh?” But no matter what he did Ranin could not prod an answer from Namic.

          The girl quickly resumed her duties of cleaning the tavern in preparation for the next day. And when evening came she found herself serving the patrons. While many of the patrons readily accepted her presence, there was still an air of distance. When the girl brought it up with Uncle Ben he simply shrugged and said, “What do you expect? We can not deny that we live a very different lives from them.”

          “But I don’t like it,” she said, as Uncle Ben gave her a curious look.

          The days continued to pass as the girl became more comfortable in her role until one day a patron leaned back and called, “I’m ready.”

          “Okay,” the girl said, passing near him. “I’ll be with you in a moment.”

          “I said I was ready, now,” the man said grabbing her arm.

          “Wait, stop; let go!” she said trying to pull away.

          Before anyone could react, the Vassal of Earth appeared wresting the man’s arm form the girl’s wrist and twisted it behind his back, pinning him down onto the table, putting one hand onto the hilt of his axe.

          “Sworder!” the girl commanded.

          Instantly, Sworder stopped and looked at her expectantly.

          “Let him go,” she said.

          With a brief moment of reluctance he released his grip and the man wrenched his arm back, breaking a sigh of relief.

          “I thought I told you I would tolerate no more trouble,” the Tavern Keep scolded the man. “And now you just made a fool of yourself.” Turning to the girl he continued, “Take a quick break will ya, Lassie.”

          “Thank you,” the girl said before quickly fleeing into the back with the Vassal in toe.

          “He may not look like much but he certainly has a grip,” one patron told the mortified man jabbing him in the ribs.

          The girl clutched her chest and leaned against the wall, when she reached the safety of the backroom.

          “Thank you, Sworder,” she said.

          “I am not sure if I really helped you,” the Vassal said.

          “What do you mean?” she asked.

          “What are they going to think?” Sworder asked. “Does this not set you as a Master of a Kazan.”

          “I’m not going to hide who I am,” she said. “Do not worry about it. I am sure one day they will understand.”

          The Vassal of Earth did not answer but simply silently retrieved a chair for her.

          “What do you think of her optimism?” Ranin asked.

          “She certainly has high hopes,” Namic said.

          “Do you think it is possible?”

          “That depends on how easy it is to change the minds of men.”

          “You certainly do not put it in a favorable light,” Ranin said.

          A few moments later the Tavern Keep came back to check on the girl, “Are you doin’ better?” he asked.

          “Yes, much,” she replied.

          “Well, then, whenever you are ready just continue as you were, it has died down a little, so there’s no hurry,” the Tavern Keep said. “And don’t worry it shouldn’t happen again.”

          “Thank you,” the girl said.

          As the Tavern keep promised, the girl worked the rest of the night without further incident, but simultaneously it was obvious the patrons were more wary of her than before.

          “Don’t blame them,” Uncle Ben said later that day. “Your Kazan showed his hand and now they know some of his capabilities. That worries them.”

          “He’s right, you men do have the flaw of always fearing that which is stronger than you,” Pollen said from the windowsill.

          “I would call it less a flaw and more of a survival technique,” Uncle Ben said.

          “What are you doing here?” the girl asked the Pixie.

          “Oh, my Master heard of the little event earlier today and sent me to check on you.” Pollen said.

          “You don’t trust me either?” the girl asked.

          “Of course that’s not it,” Pollen said angrily. “He simply wanted to make sure you were okay and tell you that he’s heard all the sides and has no problem with your Kazan’s actions.”

          “Oh, Thank you,” the girl said.

          “You’re welcome. Well, bye for now, I’m sure we’ll see each other again,” he said before flying off into the darkness.

          “You should get some rest,” Uncle Ben advised and the girl quickly took it.

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