The Potato Farmer of JamescampBill SnodgrassThis first appeared in Amazing Journeys Magazine in 2004. It was the author's first published story. It is being used as an example of SR's text to MP3 capability so that authors might better consider if they will grant permission for their works to be rendered in this way. The link to the MP3 page is at the bottom of the story. Fiction Fantasy
Based on the world of Siliar created by Bill Snodgrass and Cameron Walker.
Jamescamp, Southern Extremes of Perandis Blune 4925, Midsummer, Week 4, Day 3 "Then our fears are correct?" asked Forbis, the captain of the Jamescamp Guard. "I am afraid so," replied Brindal, one of his soldiers. Captain Forbis shook his head, hinting only slightly at the despair he felt inside. Unlike when he had been a captain in the army of the Perandis Cor Kingdom, there were no reinforcements to call, no mages to enlist, not even a mob of young, barely trained militiamen to muster. Jamescamp was not a kingdom, though its ruler, James the Despot acted as if he were a king. Jamescamp was a small mining town, about a hard half hour's walk from a silver mine. It was, to be honest, hardly more than a cluster of buildings behind a wooden stockade – barracks, a company store, a couple of taverns, one inn, various shops dealing in the goods to support the miners, and the keep of James, the Despot. Jamescamp was so small, there was only one temple, and they called it the Mission – hardly more than a square building with rows of wooden benches and a lectern in the front. Home to some two hundred men, women, and a few children, Jamescamp was located on the southern edge of Perandis Blune – The Bluff Lands, as translated from the Perandis language into the common tongue. "How many attacked?" asked Captain Forbis. "I counted three, at least" replied Lenlo, the third soldier standing at the stockade gate. "Three ogres in our silver mine," Captain Forbis said, once more shaking his head. "Not a good time to be short men." "Well," replied Brindal, "that might explain why our patrol from yesterday did not return." "How many of the guards at the mine were killed when they attacked?" "Half of them," Lenlo replied. "Five got away. Of the fifty miners and processors who were working at that time, I think about thirty or more escaped. It is hard to say, really. I am sure at least fifteen were in the mine when the ogres entered it." Captain Forbis nodded his head again. "So we have only six veteran soldiers left and the dozen other guards. Not a match for three or four ogres in a mine shaft," Captain Forbis decided. "I have been in that mine enough to know that it twists too much for bows to be of much use, and if the ogres have shields, it will be a tough hole to get them out of." Brindal and Lenlo nodded their agreement. Ogres were among the world of Siliar's most fearsome beings. Like tains, their intelligence was somewhere between animals and humans. Ogres had nowhere near the thinking capacity of even the baines that were considered to be of less wit than humans, dwarves, and elves. Ogres had a language of their own, but were either unable or unwilling to learn the common tongue. Some humans had learned a little of the ogre language though – enough to enslave them once in a while by use of deceit and other means of coercion. Ogres stood half again as tall as a human, and what they lacked in wit, they made up in toughness of hide and sheer strength. The glancing sword blow from any normal man would rarely break the skin of an ogre. On the other hand, struck in the chest by an ogre club, a man would be thrust through the air as if kicked by a horse – that is, if the man was lucky enough to face an ogre who used a club rather than a sword, spear, or axe. Ogres' proportion was more that of a dwarf than a man. They had thick limbs and a compact torso giving them enormous strength. In the field of battle, they were difficult opponents. Most all of the ogres around Jamescamp were found in small bands of less than a dozen. They roamed the area where the vast rolling terrain of the bluff met the Opus Dred Mountains hunting for meat, the principle element of their diet. They camped under skins crudely sewn together and stretched between poles stuck in the ground and staked out with cords. These little bands would fight one another as sure as they would fight the humans, dwarfs, baines, and goblins they encountered. Typically, the approach to battling ogres was to get them into the open and assail them with arrows. If bows were not available, then three or four men could surround one of them and use their only weakness against them. Ogres were not quick – if they could get up to a full run, they could match man or elf, but standing still, they struggled against quicker beings. "Why would they attack the mine anyway?" Lenlo asked. "I don't get it at all. Surely they know that we will come for them." "Only if they put the town and the mine together. Maybe they thought that those at the mine were alone," Captain Forbis replied. "It will be a sure thing," Brindal added, "that his lordship James will want the mine open right away. There will be no waiting for them to just move on, will there?" Captain Forbis nodded his agreement. "The miners too," he added. "They didn't come to this forsaken place to sit behind the stockade. They get paid by the load, not the day's work. Sure enough, they will be on us to get the mine open." Brindal and Lenlo, again, nodded their agreement. Over the centuries, Perandis Blune, of all the places in Siliar, had become the last refuge for the beings of Siliar that failed to find peace elsewhere. When the humans had driven the baines from Cor Perandis, it was to Perandis Blune they had fled. At the end of most wars, ogres, giants, baines – even goblins and kobolds – when stripped of their lands, were pushed into Perandis Blune. There they would hide, licking their wounds until they could rise again to attempt to establish kingdoms elsewhere. As a result, Perandis Blune was unquestionably the most dangerous place in all Siliar to live. Yet, the lust for riches drew men to Jamescamp. They came, occasionally with their families, but most often alone, lured by the silver in the mine. If they lived to spend it, they could leave in a year or so as wealthy men. But often, those who left home to mine in Jamescamp never returned. "Well, we might as well prepare for the worst," Captain Forbis stated. "Brindal, go get the rest of the guards ready. Lenlo, go to the miners and see if you can muster some strength from that lot. I'll go report to his lordship James what we know, and see what his wants will be... as for that, though, we can surely guess."  James the Despot stood from his throne. It was his habit to sit there officiously when he needed to preside over the affairs of Jamescamp. He stepped down from the platform on which the throne sat and approached Captain Forbis. "Captain, I am not unsympathetic to your situation. Three ogres are quite a challenge, to be sure. You have told me that you have lost a patrol and guards at the mine to them already, and that you are shorthanded." "Yes, my liege, that is correct." "Well, I will leave it up to you what to do, then. Wait them out or go after them. As long as the mine is closed, however, I'll have to deduct the miner's pay from the accounts of the guards. It would be unfair to withhold payment from the miners because they can't work, when it is because you elect not to work that prevents them." "But, you pay them by the load, not the day," the captain protested. "True, but we can look at the records and see what they have produced, and come to some fair settlement," James the Despot replied. "So use your best judgment, Captain." "Well, captain," Lenlo declared, "was it as bad as you thought?" "Actually, he leaves it to me to decide but..." "But what?" Brindal replied. "But he is going to take money from all the guards to pay the miners until the mine opens again," Captain Forbis replied. "It cannot be so!" protested Lenlo. Other guards who stood nearby took up the complaint. "Silver from our accounts won't last long going to a hundred miners," one said. "I've been here near a year," said another. "If I could get my silver, I'd take it, and walk away this minute." "Captain," Lenlo added, "what choice do we have? The guards have worked months here and are due their silver. We cannot just let his lordship give away all we worked for." "Well," Captain Forbis replied, "let's at least go have a look. Did you have any luck raising up some help from the miners?" Lenlo nodded. "About a score of them. They are waiting in the Winged Dragon." "Then, let's see what we have," Captain Forbis replied. The eighteen guards and soldiers walked to the tavern nearest the stockade gate. "Lenlo... Brindal... come with me. The rest of you wait here. The room is too small for us all to crowd in, and we won't be staying anyway," the captain directed. Lenlo and Brindal accompanied Captain Forbis into the Winged Dragon. The crowd of miners gathered there became still when the guards entered. Captain Forbis surveyed the assembly, happy for their support, but fully believing that twenty untrained and poorly armed men would contribute only slightly to a battle. "I cannot force any of you to go," the captain declared, "and if you do, there is a good chance that some of you won't come back. You know those passages in the mines. You know that it will be a hard task to battle an ogre in there. Yet, I am happy for any help you can give us." The miners nodded their commitment. "Ok, then, let's be off," the captain stated. He led the men out of the tavern and started for the gate. Just then, another man approached. "Stew?" Captain Forbis declared, "Surely you're going to use that bow to hunt deer. Surely you aren't of the mind to help us against the ogres, are you?" The man Forbis called Stew hung his head. He liked being called Stew even less than he liked the captain's remarks about his intention. His real name was Weldon. He had tried mining the first season after he came to Jamescamp, but did not like it, so he had staked a claim to some land outside the stockade where he grew potatoes. He sold his crop to the inn and taverns in town, and many of them ended up in one pot or another – as parts of various stews. Stew Potato Weldon – Stew, for short – was not a respected man. Giving up on mining because it was hard and dangerous work had made him an outcast among the miners right off. He was not known to be particularly ambitious, and grew just enough potatoes to get by. He was known as a shiftless man, a gambler, and drinker of far too much liquor. When he had come to Jamescamp about ten years prior, he had spent a great deal of time in taverns, and in the company of various tavern maids. About three seasons later, he took one as a wife, and within the year, she bore a son. Weldon took to his duties as a father and husband about like he had taken to mining. He provided his family with a two-room dwelling stuck in the corner of the stockade where the poorest of Jamescamp huddled. He seemed not to care much about making things better for either himself, or his wife and son. "Well, actually," Weldon replied, "I was figuring to help out." "Are you drunk?" Captain Forbis asked. "We don't need help from any drunken farmer on this. Ogres are nothing if they are not dangerous." "I ain't drunk," Weldon replied. "I don't take liquor no more." Captain Forbis looked over the farmer and decided he seemed sober enough, so he turned to all the men gathered. He motioned for them to follow him, and set out for the gate. Weldon fell in among the group near Lenlo. "Stew," Lenlo asked, "how many arrows do you have?" "Just these four," Weldon replied. "Well, may they fly straight," Brindal said with a nod. Weldon smiled at the veteran soldier in appreciation for the encouragement. Just outside the gate, Captain Forbis called for a halt. He told everyone to gather around him close, so the eighteen guards and the twenty-one townspeople obeyed. "I just want to say a little prayer before we get to the mine," the captain declared. Jamescamp was the kind of place that changed people. The life was harsh, and carnal opportunities abounded. There was ever-present danger from the mines and occasionally – as was the case that day – from creatures in the area. People who came to Jamescamp tended to move to one of two extremes. Many would abandon all self-control, embracing each day for the sake of that day alone. Others would decide that they could only hope to live past their days in Jamescamp with the divine help of Johvah and would, therefore, develop a devotion of highest commitment. As Captain Forbis began to pray, about half of those with him were happy for the gesture, while the others could have cared less. "Dear Johvah, please be with us today. Guide us and give us strength to face these beasts. Please keep us safe. As You will it, let it be." "Let it be," chorused many of the others, as was their custom at the end of a prayer. "Okay, let's go," the captain declared. He led the men toward the mine along the rough road, worn and rutted by the laden ox carts that passed daily. About halfway between the town and the mine, a road intersected the path that led away to the south into the mountains, and eventually into the lands of Saura Dora. To the north, it stretched up into Perandis Blune, and eventually reached other small communities. Lead from the mine, a byproduct of the silver production, was never taken to Jamescamp, but was shipped off north and south along that road. As they reached the mine, they could see what Lenlo had described. The ogres had burst through the gates suddenly, before they could be bolted, and there was obvious damage to one of them. Several dead bodies remained by the gate. "Well," Brindal declared, "at least they have not made a meal of all of the dead yet." "Not yet," replied Lenlo. "Keep it down, everyone," the captain said. "Brindal, come with me. Let's get close, and see if they have come out of the mine yet." Captain Forbis and Brindal crept toward the gate to the mine. Like in Jamescamp, a stockade of split logs had been erected around the mine and processing buildings. A stream of fresh water flowed into the mine area, used to wash the ore, separating the light components from the heavier minerals that were then refined into silver and lead. A small wisp of smoke still rose from the chimney of the furnace by which the silver and lead pigs were processed into small purer blocks. Reaching the gate and peering within, Captain Forbis and Brindal found no signs of the ogres. They signaled for the others to approach. "Maybe they have gone?" Weldon whispered to no one in particular. "That would be nice," Lenlo replied. "They're probably still down in the mine eating bones," said one of the other guards. The buildings in the mine area were quickly searched. No ogres were found, and few bodies. Their worst fears realized, the captain led the men toward the mine entrance. He called for the five other veteran soldiers to come up, and asked for any with bows to follow closely. "It will be tight in there," the captain declared, "so be careful. You with bows make sure not to shoot the wrong people." "I think we can judge an ogre from a man," Weldon replied, "even in the dark." "Look you," the captain snapped, "keep your wise cracks to yourself. Why don't you take a torch and be of some use?" Weldon nodded and took a torch from one of the guards nearby. "Ease up, Captain," Brindal said, "he's just trying to do the right thing." "Humph..." the captain replied. "I'll believe it when I see it." Weldon shook his head, sore from the remarks, but he knew the captain could not be expected to trust him. Of all the people in Jamescamp, no one knew Weldon as well as he knew himself. He knew he had wronged many people, had been a man of poor character, and that much of the scorn he endured was well earned. But he was trying to change. Torch held high, Weldon followed behind the six veterans as they entered the mine. Behind them followed four others with bows and a dozen more guards. "Careful now," Captain Forbis replied. "They could be anywhere." The passage twisted one way and then another, as the miners who carved it had followed the silver vein into the rock of the mountain. It was dug no wider than was needed for passage of the handcarts that carried the ore and tailings out of the mine. "I'd take this to be too small for an ogre," the captain declared. "I saw them come in here," Lenlo replied. "Up a bit, it gets wider," said one of the miners who carried a torch. "The vein split three ways. The shaft gets wider there. Higher two.... The middle vein ran up a bit." Not many paces further into the darkness, the shaft, indeed, grew wider and taller. Three of the veteran soldiers clambered down the shaft side by side. They pressed on into the mine, anxious that any turn of the shaft could put them face to face with three ogres. However, what seemed like a long time passed, and, instead of ogres, they came to a relatively large open area where several shafts split off in different directions. The extra space in the area – known as the Main Junction – also served as a place where some tools and a couple of hand carts could be stored. "Which way?" asked Brindal. "I'd guess the larger of the three tunnels," Lenlo replied. Captain Forbis agreed. "That's Old Shaft One," said one of the miners. "It's all played out. Lots of strained support timbers, too. Best be real careful." The soldiers nodded their acknowledgement and moved forward. The thick dust in the unused passage told everyone that Lenlo had been right. Large boot tracks where pressed deep in the dust, and there were also signs that heavy masses had been dragged along through the passage. "Be real quiet," Captain Forbis ordered. "Let's see if we can hear anything." Everyone became still, motionless, and quiet. The only sounds they heard were the flames from the torches licking away. "I'd wager they have heard us already," Weldon commented. "Probably waiting in the dark to ambush us," Lenlo declared. Captain Forbis nodded. He looked up the passage, but the light only revealed the support timbers and the ogre tracks leading away. "They are going to know we are coming," he concluded. "With all these twists and turns, even the width of this passage does us little good," added Lenlo. "Well, let's just see what's up here a little further," Captain Forbis declared. "You know Forbis, we don't have to go in there after them," Weldon replied. "What do you know, Stew?" Captain Forbis barked. "If you're scared, pass off the torch and go back." "That's not what I meant," Weldon replied. "I have an idea...." "Quiet," Captain Forbis interrupted. "Just keep that torch up, and be ready with that bow." Weldon shook his head, but obeyed. He and the others continued forward behind Lenlo and Captain Forbis, who walked abreast at the front of the group. They came to a sharp bend in the shaft and braced for the unseen. They cleared the corner, finding nothing but more tracks. Twice more, they came to similar bends, and twice more found only more tracks. The fourth such bend, however, dispelled any complacency that had been fostered by the first three. As Captain Forbis and Lenlo stepped around the twist, they first heard a heavy footfall. An ogre had leapt forward to meet the guards. Next, the sound of crushing bone and the wail of Lenlo echoed through the passage as the veteran was pierced by a huge spear and driven backwards. At Lenlo's side, Captain Forbis attacked the ogre with great fury, slashing at him with sword while fending off the tip of his spear with his shield. Once past the tip of the spear, Forbis had to deal with the ring of spikes – a circlet of dagger-like projections – halfway down the shaft of the spear. The ogre thrashed at the captain with these secondary threats. One of the miners who had not run away grabbed Lenlo and began to drag him towards the exit. Brindal took his place, but could not reach the ogre in the confines of the mineshaft. The assault of the ogre was too great for even the captain and his veteran soldier. Step by step, they retreated as the ogre's assault proved too powerful. Once both Brindal and Forbis had retreated beyond the twist in the mineshaft, the ogre dropped his spear and attacked them with a huge axe he had belted to his side. When he abandoned the defensive weapon – his spear – and took up offense with the axe, Forbis and Brindal knew they were in grave danger. The ogre thrashed at them, striking Brindal's shield and sending him sprawling to the side. Forbis tried to hold ground as another guard moved into position where Brindal had fallen. The ogre struck the replacement and he fell. Brindal recovered his sword and slashed the ogre's leg from his kneeling position to its side. The ogre turned toward him and raised his axe, striking the ceiling of the mine and causing a sizable amount of rock to fall. One of the large pieces landed on Captain Forbis, striking his shoulder and leg. Brindal could see only the axe of the ogre poised to strike him where he lay on the ground. He believed his death was at hand, but the ogre stayed his blow. The axe dropped from the ogre's hand as the great beast clutched, instead, the shaft of an arrow that stuck in its shoulder. Brindal watched as another arrow stung him, then a third, and a fourth. By the time Weldon had spent his quiver, Brindal was able to scramble from beneath the ogre and pull Captain Forbis to his feet. Weldon took up the sword dropped by the stricken guard and stayed by Brindal, fearing that the ogre would pursue. But the ogre knew better than to face the bows, and took refuge around the corner. At that, the men from Jamescamp moved back a safer distance. The other minors with bows were recalled to join the guards, all positioned to keep the ogres at bay. "That went badly," Brindal declared. "What now?" The captain shook his head. His injuries were not bad, but he had no clear idea what to do. "Listen to me," Weldon said. "We don't have to face them. I worked this shaft for a season. There are no exits but the one we entered." "Look, Stew, be quiet and let me think," Captain Forbis demanded. "No," Weldon responded. "Two men are probably dead because you wouldn't listen to me before. We can cave-in this shaft and trap them back there with no way out." "Yeah!" the miners with bows chorused. "The whole roof sags and the beams are strained," said one. "Great idea, Stew," said another. Within seconds, as the captain watched, the miners had put the idea into motion. They ran down the passage halfway to the bend, placed torches at the base of the support timbers there, then retreated. Where they would risk it, they battered the beams and let them fall. Quickly, they retreated setting fire to many support timbers and sabotaging others. Within minutes, they had reached the Main Junction, and were hearing the telltale sounds of one cave-in after another as the burning timbers gave way. Suddenly, there was a rumbling sound, a deep trembling, and all at once, Old Shaft One violently collapsed belching out a cloud of dust, blinding all who were in the Main Junction. The miners and guards alike gave out a great cheer. Some thumped Weldon on the back joyously. Others shook hands with one another in their victory. When they could open their eyes again, a quick inspection of Old Shaft One revealed that, not a dozen paces in, it was totally blocked. The collapse had been complete. The men from Jamescamp started back for town pulling the bodies of all they could find on hand carts. As they walked along slowly, Captain Forbis approached Weldon. "You did alright back there, Stew," Captain Forbis declared. "It's 'Weldon' not 'Stew'" "Oh is it?" Forbis replied. "One day of being sober and doing something worthwhile, and you're getting uppity? Well, well. Anyway, you had a good day. You should try to have more like this one. That would be good for you." "What would you know about me anyway?" Weldon answered. "Nothing, that's what." Weldon changed his pace and let the Captain move away. When he resumed walking, he was near Brindal, who had overheard the captain's remarks. "Don't mind him," Brindal declared. "It was a bad day for him and all...." "I suppose," Weldon replied. Brindal walked along silently for a moment. He appreciated what Weldon had done, particularly when he had used his bow to drive back the ogre. "Look, I want to thank you for saving my life back there," Brindal replied. "Not what you'd expect from me, huh?" Weldon replied, expecting another slight against his character. "That's not what I meant. You really saved me. Some of the others had run off, but you stayed." Weldon shrugged. "Would you be offended if I said that you are different from the way people think of you? You have changed." "Yea, I know. I have been trying. My boy got sick last season and was near death. I guess I got to thinking about things. I asked Johvah to help him and He did. I guess if He is real enough to do that, then He is real enough that I ought to pay him some mind." Brindal nodded, impressed by Weldon's remarks. "You know Weldon," Brindal said, wanting to encourage the farmer more, "if you are sincere about changing, maybe you ought to come to the Mission for First Day services...." "Well," Weldon replied, "I don't know about that.... I doubt I'd get much better from the people there than I got from the captain here. I suppose I'd be best off sticking to my potatoes." Brindal hung his head, ashamed of how his captain had treated the farmer, then replied, "Would you at least think about it? All of Johvah's Followers make mistakes. Don't turn your back to Him just because some Followers turn their back to you." Weldon nodded, but made no promises. Continue...Copyright 2007, Bill Snodgrass. All rights reserved.
|
||||
|
Site Support by Web-Net Solutions Report Problems to Webmaster |