“That wasn’t all of them?” Erich asked, frowning while he absently rubbed a soiled towel over his hands. “How many more are we talking about?”

  Derl shrugged helplessly. The dim communal eating hall around them was filled with the gentle murmur of conversation and the click of wooden spoons against bowls as ten or so rice farmers ate dinner. There were a couple members of the town militia at the table with them, but most were still manning the walls watching for another wave of garr.

  “No clue,” the cinderborn replied. “There’s a nest nearby. That means a lot of young garr have hatched and are roaming the fields looking for food in adolescent packs. They should return every couple of days, but it would be rare to see all of them in one spot outside of that nest, and even if we’re able to more or less defend Madla from them, there’s no way that we can send the farmers back out to the paddies, even with guards, without doing something to the garr’s numbers.”

  Erich put the towel down, pushing it out of his way before turning his attention to the wooden bowl of plain rice on the table in front of him. There weren’t any vegetables or meat to accompany it, but that was hardly surprising given how poor Madla looked..

  “Plus,” Derl said unhappily, “where you have a nest, you have a breeding pair as well. That means garr that have survived at least a couple rainy seasons, and garr don’t stop growing on their own. That means they’re going to be bigger and meaner than an ordinary garr, but I don’t think that we’re going to see the waves of hatchlings stop until the breeders are dead or driven off.”

  Erich spooned a mouthful of rice from his bowl. It wasn’t great, but after years of army food followed by whatever scraps he could forge in hell, the plain rice tasted just fine.

  “How big and mean are we talking?” He asked. “Twice the size of the ones I fought today? Three times as big?”

  “Depends,” Allthier remarked. “Garr just kinda keep growing until someone gets around to exterminating them. If this breeding pair is three seasons old? They’ll be about two to three times the size of an adolescent. That said, I’ve seen garr taller than a man at the shoulder in my travels. I’ve heard stories of them growing bigger than that. Sometimes the local lords have to send an entire team to hunt them down. It’s actually one of the more common causes of death for warriors around here. Right behind honor duels and fighting on the bridge between worlds.”

  “More people die from honor duels than fighting on the bridge between worlds?” Erich asked, incredulous. “The bridge is a literal war zone. Even if you don’t die in a sword fight, there are mutated scavengers that will eat any stragglers.”

  “Eh,” Allthier replied noncommittally. “Most of the warriors spend their time practicing or defending fortifications against Cothleer attacks. From what I’ve heard, the army doesn’t actually stage its own attacks on the enemy all that often. No real need to charge recklessly across the waste when the aether will deliver itself right to your doorstep.”

  Erich shifted uncomfortably, trying not to think of how many of his former companions were in that aether delivered right to the doorstep of the cinderborn warriors.

  “Honor duels on the other hand happen almost every day,” the merchant continued cheerfully. “Maybe one warrior insults another. Maybe a warrior’s master got into an argument with the other’s master a decade ago. Sometimes it’s as simple as someone trying to test their mettle. Usually the fights aren’t to the death, but you know that being a warrior and all. Still, any time a couple people start waving around swords and throwing mana around, there’s a chance that someone dies.”

  “I try to do my best to avoid things like that,” Erich replied through a mouthful of rice. “I have a lot of training to do before I’ll be confident enough in my skills to pick a fight with someone. For now, I mostly just need to focus on my journey. I’ve got a long way to go, and I don’t think that honor duels will help me get to my destination any faster.”

  “That’s certainly the truth,” Allthier agreed easily. “Everyone has their honor, but a lot of warriors seem to be obsessed with it. There’s no need to stick a man with a sword just because he stepped on your toes. A massive waste.”

  Derl cocked his head to the side before a sly smile spread across his face. The dull orange glow of his eyes brightened as he leaned toward Erich.

  “Erich,” he said. “You shouldn’t sell yourself short. Your defense of the wall was something else. I might have been able to do about half of what you did, but on their own my militia is outmatched. A warrior of your caliber will start to build a reputation before too long, but it sounds like you don’t care all that much about that.”

  “True,” Erich replied. “I’ve seen what actual skill with the sword looks like, and I know that I’m lacking. I might be able to use some abilities that look impressive in a small rice farming village like this one, but I’m not going to pretend I’m a sword master or anything like that. It will be a while before I’m skilled enough to actually be worth anything like a reputation.”

  “How are you planning to fund your journey?” Derl asked, leaning across the table toward Erich. “I know that you’re a warrior, but if you simply travel from town to town seizing room and board, I can basically guarantee you that another warrior will challenge you to a duel over the dishonor.”

  Erich sighed, sticking his spoon into the rice as he leaned back in his seat. Derl had a point. He hadn’t really stopped to think about his plans in some time. It was more a matter of Erich being driven from one moment to the next by necessity. Escape through hell to cinderborn lines, then there was only one road to walk so he started walking it. Once he met Allthier, he started traveling with the merchant so that he would have some company.

  He would need food, medicine, camping gear, and a map at the minimum. In all likelihood, Erich would need traveling companions, extra gear to maintain his sword, new shoes and new clothing. The list just kept growing as he thought about the distance that he was expected to cover on foot.

  “Odd jobs as I travel from town to town I guess?” Erich responded, shrugging. “I don’t really know what else I can do. I can hardly settle down and get a job as a craftsman. I need to keep moving and practicing with my sword. Otherwise I’ll die of old age long before I reach my destination.”

  “What if I said that we had an odd job for you?” Derl asked. “It’s pretty clear that there’s a garr nest somewhere around here. I think it’s also pretty clear that the town militia can barely keep the walls clear. Even if I could manage to take out the nest on my own, I can’t exactly abandon Madla. There’s no telling when another garr wave will show up.”

  “Are you asking me to destroy the nest?” Erich replied with a slight frown. “I thought you were just telling me that there were more garr than you could handle wandering the rice fields. What makes you think that sending me out on my own without any fortifications to fall back on would be a good idea? It just sounds like a recipe for me to get swarmed and eaten.”

  “I’m not trying to pretend that it would be without risk,” Derl said hurriedly. “I’m asking you to go out and fight feral animals after all. That said, the garr are pretty spread out. I saw how you managed to handle a pack of them on your own. You aren’t likely to run into too many more than that at one time short of the nest itself, and I’m not going to ask you to take on the nest alone. Just find it and come back for me. We’ll storm it together.”

  Erich paused. That was dangerous, but not completely unworkable.

  “How much are you talking?” He asked slowly. “Also, if you’re going to send me out to scout, will you provide me with food and equipment for the trip? I don’t really know the lay of the land and it’ll be hard for me to find my way back, let alone to mark down where the nest is without a map or something.”

  Derl turned to Allthier, his glowing eyes flickering slightly brighter as he addressed the merchant

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  “Allthier, you have a map right? Do you think you could lend it to Erich? It’s not like you’ll be able to finish your route until the garr are cleaned out. You might as well lend a hand. The sooner Erich finds the nest, the sooner the garr will be dispersed so that everyone can return to their day to day routines.”

  The other cinderborn grumbled for a second, biting his lower lip as his eyes dimmed, deep in thought. The seconds dragged onward, and Erich became acutely aware of the click of wooden spoons on bowls of rice around them. It almost felt like the rest of the farmers and militia were staring at their table.

  “Fine,” Allthier grumbled. “But I need it back. I know most of the landscape around here, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t need my map. That’s basically the lifeblood of a merchant, especially if I get a custom delivery request.”

  “There you are,” Derl said with a swift nod. “Madla doesn’t have much, but we can spare five hundred bits for you. That should be enough for you to buy some supplies and spend a couple days at a nice inn once you get to Kratter. I’d offer more because frankly, the task I’m asking of you is worth more, but that’s all the money Madla has at the moment.”

  “Unless of course you’re open to barter?” The cinderborn’s eyes pulsed. “People don’t often pay slaves. It comes with the social caste. Technically instead of money their owners are responsible for their protection, but at the moment that’s me and I am insufficient. Theoretically I could promise you that my employer would reward you, but I’m not in the habit of lying.”

  “Do they even have anything worth bartering?” Erich responded, looking around the mess hall. The room was lit by a pair of braziers burning dirty peat. None of the tables seemed to have four legs that were all the same length and the building’s walls had thin but visible cracks between the wood.

  Madla was poor. The people weren’t destitute, they had food on their plates and beds to lay down in, but that didn’t mean that they had much before the garr nest moved in. Now? Erich didn’t really know how much five hundred bits was, but he suspected that it was more than the town could afford to pay. Derl was desperate, and unless someone did something about the animals sooner rather than later, the problem was only going to get worse.

  “We have rice,” Derl said with a chuckle. “To be honest, we don’t have a whole lot of that left either. Last year’s crop is starting to run out. If all things were going well, the farmers would be out preparing to harvest more. Unfortunately, that would mean turning them into garr food.”

  “And there still wouldn’t be any rice for you to buy,” Allthier chimed in. “Think of it this way, Erich. The pay may not be amazing, but you’d be doing a good and honorable deed. If that isn’t enough to sway you, think of the aether. Scouting and hunting garr is a good way to improve your rank. Even if each animal isn’t all that powerful, by the time you slaughter twenty or fifty, the earnings start to add up.”

  Erich thought for a minute before nodding. He might be able to make it to the next village down the road on his own, but that would mean not sleeping. Even if he could fight the garr off on his own, he could only do that while awake.

  Ultimately, Madla’s fate wasn’t his problem, but at the same time it didn’t sit right with him to abandon the farmers. Erich had never been a philanthropist, but he also wasn’t the same person now. The last three months had shattered who he was, leaving nothing but scraps of the man he had been before.

  To be perfectly honest, Erich wasn’t actually sure who or what he was meant to be. The only two things he knew for sure were that he was a swordsman and that he was going to return Sathis’ sword to his family estate. Beyond that, everything was a blur.

  What did it even mean to be a swordsman? His time on the battlefield hadn’t really answered that question. Erich had fought and bled in a pointless war upon the orders of commanders that were just as much his enemy as the cinderborn that were trying to cut him down. That clearly wasn’t the path forward, but he could hardly define himself by what he was not.

  Erich was not a negation of his past. He needed to be more than that. Still, did that mean that he was generous? Was he cold and practical? Was he cruel and violent? All of those and more could describe a swordsman.

  “Fine,” he said, finally speaking up. “I can start scouting the nearby fields starting tomorrow, but I’m going to need room and board while I search. We’d better hope that the nest is within a day’s walk of town because I don’t plan on spending the night out in the fields. I wouldn’t be able to sleep, and not sleeping makes you sloppy. I might be able to defend myself from the garr while alert, but I’m not going to take a risk for no reason.”

  Erich turned from Derl to Alltheir before continuing.

  “Sorry to make you and Benny wait up. I’ll try and find the garr nest as quickly as possible so that I can return your map.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Allthier replied with an easy chuckle. “Why do you think I was pushing you toward scouting for the nest? If runners aren’t making it on foot, Benny and I aren’t going to make it with a cart. Unless someone fixes this mess, that means I’m stuck in Madla until the end of the rainy season.”

  “Right now I’m away from my kids and wasting money,” he said. “Two things I hate. I figure no one but the farmers wants to stay in Madla for too long. You seem strong enough to kill off a good number of garr and run away from what you can’t kill. Having you scout their nest might not fix everything, but it’s the only thing I can think of that might fix all of this-”

  Allthier paused, his brow furrowing for a second as his eyes dimmed.

  “Say,” the merchant continued. “Do you think that Erich might be able to make it Kratter without getting torn apart by the garr? It might take a little longer, but if he sent back reinforcements, that should be able to clear up the garr problem too.”

  Derl grimaced. He looked like he wanted to say something only to bite his lower lip and chew on it for a second.

  “Maybe,” he said slowly, still deep in thought. “But I don’t know how quickly reinforcements will come. I also don’t know how likely the bosses are to trust Erich. He’s a complete stranger, and I wouldn’t be surprised if they use that as an excuse to delay sending a pacification team. Plus, I don’t know if-”

  He trailed off, grimacing.

  “I shouldn’t open my mouth to speculate,” Derl grumbled. “I have my guesses about how my employer might react to Erich’s arrival. I might be wrong, but I also shouldn’t gossip about something that might never come to pass.

  “That doesn’t sound auspicious,” Erich replied. “Is it anything I should be worried about?”

  Frustration creased Derl’s face and the glow of his eyes brightened for a second. Finally, the cinderborn simply sighed.

  “Maybe,” he said unhappily. “Probably, yes. The merchant that administers the rice farming villages in this area on behalf of the local magistrate is a bit touchy. Branlen Tarrl. He’s a wealthy man and my employer. I’m honorbound not to speak ill of him, but at the same time, it would be ungrateful of me to simply leave it at that without any warning. Unfortunately, I’ll have to leave things at that.”

  “Tarrl,” Allthier mumbled unhappily. “I forgot that he administered this village. You’re right. Sending Erich ahead wouldn’t accomplish much. Tarrl will find a way not to send support until the last second. Every shipment he’s commissioned has always been for the bare minimum. A slave’s life isn’t easy, but it is generally considered to be beneath a yeoman or noble to skimp on their food and tools. He’s a much wealthier merchant than me, so maybe his way of doing things is best, but I wouldn’t count on him sending a relief force unless he knew exactly how many men were needed, and you can be sure that he would end up counting every arrow they fired during the expedition.”

  Derl winced, but he didn’t say anything. Evidently, Allthier’s characterization of the situation hit a little close to home.

  Erich didn’t let himself overthink the situation. He might be able to sneak past the garr on his own, but there weren’t any promises on that front. Once he got to the next town, he wouldn’t really have any money to pay for supplies or a night at an inn. Right now he had the promise of a bed, more a sheet thrown over a pile of straw than anything, and food mostly because of his help with the latest garr attack.

  Technically, Erich could always simply take what he wanted, laws didn’t apply to warriors after all, but that wasn’t his path forward. He didn’t know much, but Erich knew that pointless theft was wrong, regardless of whether or not another warrior might challenge him over the dishonor.

  More than anything, he had already made a promise.

  “Okay,” he said. “I think I understand the situation. Now how about someone finds me a bed? I’m tired from the road and I’m going to need a good night’s sleep if the two of you expect me to start scouting the area first thing tomorrow morning.”

  “That sounds like something I can do,” Derl replied, eyes brightening. “Just finish up your rice and I’ll take you to the communal flop house. It’s not much, but space around here is at a premium so it’ll have to do.”