John kept his head down to avoid the rising sun shining on his face.

"You know those stories where the main character walks towards the sunset in the end? And that would be the happy end? Right now I just feel annoyed."

"Uh-huh," Dene agreed absently. Again.

She had been paying attention to nothing ever since the fight against the poachers.

“Maybe we should try again in the evening towards the actual sunset.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Or rather, why wait? Let’s set our house on fire and call it the sun. We can even take the chance to cook on it.”

“Uh-huh.”

Unable to take it anymore, John pulled ahead and stopped in front of his mother. Even then she almost bumped into him.

“What is it?”

“I should be the one asking that. You’ve been distracted ever since the fight with the poachers. What’s going on?”

Dene looked at him for a moment, thinking about something, before speaking, “They weren’t poachers.” She then dropped the burlap sack and began rummaging inside.

That startled him. “What do you mean? I saw the animal parts in their camp.”

“Yes, but a camp of that size should’ve had much more than that, too much to fit in a single sack. That deer we saw, it only had its antlers taken, the most valuable part. Most poachers are poor peasants trying to add to their livelihoods, so ignoring the fur and meat isn’t very likely. I had this doubt when I first saw the deer’s carcass but guessed that they had been scared off by the Nandi Bear. Seeing their camp confirmed my suspicions.”

Finally, she seemed to find what she was looking for as she removed a bluish-white knife from inside the sack. The handle was half as long as the blade and wrapped in a single strip of white leather that spiraled down its length towards a sapphire pommel. The blade’s distinct color wasn’t unfamiliar to John, even more so after he looked closer and noticed the endless little ripples that permeated the metal, reminiscent of flowing water.

“Rippled steel,” John spoke and Dene nodded. He knew about the metal because it was the same as his mother’s twin swords, gifted to her by the baron after saving his life during a hunt. Lighter, more durable and able to keep its edge for longer when compared to regular steel. It was also prohibitively expensive to most commoners.

“And there were also maps,” she handed him a folded parchment with a drawing of the town and its surroundings. John also had maps of the region, but none like this one. It was too detailed.

While his’ displayed Greenflower as a black circle with three roads leading towards it, this one depicted every single building and alley, as well as highlighting places such as where the guards lived. On the other side were various timestamps, some being months apart while others were only a couple of days, but there was no explanation for what they represented.

Regardless, he knew that no one would go through all this trouble for nothing.

“You think they were planning to raid the town?”

“If they were, then they wouldn’t do it alone. The town guards may be incompetent, but not that much.”

John agreed. The town had somewhere between twenty and thirty Crusaders, more than enough to deal with the single camp they killed, so they were likely only scouting the place for a bigger force.

And so he could understand her worry. Whoever those people were, killing them put John and Dene in danger, so hiding their involvement would be best. On the other hand, she was obligated to report it to the baron, and if he didn’t find it out from her, it could bring another sort of trouble.

“So what will you do?” John asked after handing back the knife and map.

“I’ll inform the baron about this, then we’ll lay low to see what happens.”

Greenflower’s outskirts came into view soon after. Walking through the dirt roads, they soon arrived at the town square. It was the same as always. One or another commoner looked through the shops. Edmund’s store was open, and the man was busy haggling with a client. And the healer’s door was closed as usual.

It was the same as always. Except for a bloody scaffold at the square’s center. Made of a few logs and planks cobbled together, it had clearly been improvised in a rush. The body had been removed, but the flies remained, and whoever they were, they didn’t die quickly. Most of the wooden surface was painted red, the same for the ground below as the blood seeped in between the planks and dripped down.

“What do you think happened here?”

“We’ll ask Edmund later, first I have to inform the baron.”

Following what was maybe the only paved road in town, the two walked up the small hill towards the stone keep. As usual, Grouch and Big Nose stood guard at the entrance. Well, they were standing at the entrance and were technically guards, but that was it. A blind dog could offer better protection than those two.

Not paying attention to their actual jobs, both argued over something.

“The smart thing to do is tell it to Skanler,” Big Nose argued. “Why should we get involved in this mess? Plus, this way we can gain the Earl’s favor.”

“Bah, anyone with half a brain spits on his favor. Just look at what he did with those foreigners who worked for him. I don’t wish Skanler’s generosity on my worst enemy.”

The name wasn’t entirely unfamiliar to John. Hagen Westbrook, Jonathan’s friend, was the Earl of Rochdale. To the southwest of his territory was Knight’s Crossing, ruled by Earl Skanler. Greenflower was located in between the two, so unless they declared war on one another, it had nothing to do with John.

Ignoring their discussion, Dene passed in between the two guards and entered the keep, John following closely behind. Neither one attempted to stop her, already used to her coming in and out when she wanted.

At the dining room is where they found baron Garrel Selter, chewing on a piece of black bread. Surprised for an instant, the old man took the time to eat the bread before greeting the two.

“Good morning, Miss Ellie, to what do I owe the pleasure?” The baron addressed Dene by the fake name she provided. Or almost. She had told her name was Eliliba, which got shortened to Ellie.

“Good morning, my lord. I’m sorry to bother, but this couldn’t wait,” Dene grabbed the town’s map from inside the sack and handed it to the baron. “I believe someone is planning to attack the town.”

Garrel’s usual mild smile was replaced by a frown, which only deepened after looking through the map. “I think you should go from the beginning.”

“Certainly, my lord. Yesterday, me and my son were walking through the forest when we found evidence of poachers. We tracked it to a camp where there was more evidence of poaching and so I made short work of them. While I went through their possessions, I was startled to find this and other maps of the surrounding areas, and knew I had to bring it to your attention.”

The baron nodded along with her story while studying the map and the timestamps behind it.

“Unfortunately I haven’t been able to figure out what these dates and hours mean.”

“I think... I know what they are,” he pointed to a date almost half a year prior. “Quintilis, 17th, 7,870 AU. I remember this day, a delegation from Knight’s Crossing passed through the town towards Rochdale. And this one,” he pointed to an earlier date, a fortnight prior, “Carius, 21st, 7,870 AU. A merchant caravan arrived here that day. I’m not sure about the other dates, but I believe they also mark large amounts of people passing through town. Did they carry anything else of note?”

“Apart from other maps, there was also a rippled steel knife and some letters, but I don’t recognize the language,” Dene put every item on the table.

John was slightly surprised by the last part. She didn’t mention any letters to him.

The baron only glanced at the knife and through the maps before unfolding the letters and doing the same thing with them. The old man raised each letter to his face and glimpsed front and back through its contents, confirming that indeed he was unable to read it. But that was different for John.

Leaning closer, he could make out some words here and there. “Hide”, “safeguard”, “Seimon”, “attention”. All in English. So he wasn’t wrong in believing that languages from Earth were somehow also present in this world.

“I think,” the baron spoke after putting down the last letter, “that this is Gwynland’s old tongue, but I can’t know for sure without someone who’s able to speak it. And there’s little chance of finding someone like that.”

“You’re wrong, I can read it,” John wanted to say, but held himself back. How would he explain being able to read some dead language from who knows how long ago?

“Regardless,” Garrel continued, “you’ve done a great thing for this town, miss Ellie. I’ll have to think of a way to properly reward you, but for now you can keep the knife,” he handed it to Dene who promptly accepted it, “along with whatever valuables they had. And John isn’t it? I’m awarding you with the title of Greenflower’s huntsman so that you may officially work alongside your mother.”

That came as a surprise to John, and also Dene, as he noticed from her expression.

“Don’t be so shocked, I’m not nearly as senile as some make me out to be. You’ve already been training the boy, and I have no doubts that you’ve taken him hunting once or twice. At least now it will be done according to the law.”

“Thank you, my lord,” Dene said with a slight bow.

John received a discreet nudge, prompting him to also thank the baron.

“That will be all then, you’re dismissed.”

They both turned to leave...

“Oh, just one more thing.”

… but were soon called back.

“Both of you, if possible, try to avoid my son Varn. He’s been upset over… well, I’m sure you’re both aware of it by now.”

“Do you think his warning has something to do with the scaffold from earlier?” John asked after they left the stone keep.

“Maybe. We’ll go to Edmund’s store and ask him about it. Also, here,” Dene handed him the rippled steel knife, “you can keep it. My swords are enough for me, and you seem adamant on using every single weapon you find.”

John ignored that last remark. Every once in a while she would send him a jab because, as she saw it, he was spreading his attention too thin instead of focusing on the twin swords. She feared him becoming a jack of all trades and master of none when it came to combat.

It only took a couple of minutes to reach the store. Edmund’s cheerful voice reached them just as they got inside.

“Good morning, Miss Ellie, and you too little John, how may I help you?” The store owner insisted on calling him, ‘little John,’ even though they were the same height.

Dene dropped the burlap sack on the counter. “First I want to sell these. After that, I want some whetstones for my swords.”

“Sure, but it’ll take some time to go over all of this.”

“That’s okay, we’ll browse the other stores and come back later.”

They didn’t take too long to come back, Dene just wanted to buy some food. She returned with a roast chicken and two loaves of bread inside a straw basket. Usually, she would cook their food herself, but the last hours had been too draining on her.

That, coupled with his recent title of huntsman, made John aware that it was time for him to start pulling his weight at home. He was already thirteen years old, and even older on the inside.

“Welcome back,” Edmund greeted. The burlap sack was empty and neatly folded over the counter with a heavy pouch on top of it. “I’ll buy everything you bought, and here’s the first part,” he pushed the pouch towards Dene. “Come back next week and I’ll have the rest of the coins as well as the whetstone for your swords. And here’s a gift for you little John,” he produced a head of garlic from behind the counter and handed it to John.

“Shove it up your ass,” he wanted to say. Instead, John forced a smile and thanked the man.

Ever since finding out about John’s utter distaste for the vegetable, Edmund has been teasing him about it. John simply hated the death-flavored vegetable ever since… ever since his time in the army.

“By the way, Edmund,” Dene spoke, “what can you tell me about that scaffold?”

“You don’t know? Apparently, lord Varn gained a brand new pair of antlers,” Edmund laughed. “When you took him hunting, his wife probably didn’t expect him to return so early, and so she was caught in bed with the slave. What you see there is the aftermath of that.”

John was surprised by that but waited until they were out of the store and back at home to speak about it. “What he said about Varn returning early...”

“I know, it’s partly my fault.” Dene placed the basket over the table with a sigh. “He wasn’t from our tribe, but Kwanzaa was a good man regardless. It’s unfortunate what happened to him. If I had known I wouldn’t have let the hunt end so early. As for the baron’s daughter-in-law, I couldn’t care less whatever happened to her.”