Goodboy raced to the people waiting at the top of the hill by the refugee camp, moving faster than a racehorse, and carrying two armored men. He came to a step in a cloud of dust and Ben and the Jarl climbed off. Looking at the dozens of armed men and women in front of him, Ben was quite prepared to leap onto Goodboy and try to make an escape, but that was only if words failed. Having a semi-grateful Redhoof with him could open doors...or slam them in his face if he wasn't reading the man right. Redhoof wasted no time getting to what was important. "Who managed to bring a keg of ale or barrel of harder stuff with them? I owe this warrior a night of hard drinking and I'm paying in gold and will owe you a favor. Name your price." Several voices spoke at once. The gold was nice, but the favor of a Jarl could be priceless. Redhoof pointed at the three people who yelled or raised their fists. He decided more was better. "Inga, Yellow Bear, and Satvanni: Bring your drink to my tent. I may need all of it."Cragstone stepped forward. "You are under the protection of Jarl Redhoof for the night. But I don't know who you are.""I am Benjamin of House Franklin. Currently under contract to the Baron of Gadobhra.""So part of the Empire."Ben shrugged, "Technically, but half the Empire wants to wipe Gadobhra off the map, and the other half wants Baron William's head on a spike so they can steal his city and reap the rewards themselves. One theme at court was to abandon the city to Winter to get rid of it. The Baron might even have agreed to that. He has been doing business with an ogre named Bronk, selling ballista, onagers, and catapults. But he was a little peeved about having to clean up the army of wolves that General Glacia sent against him. He felt it was bad business, and he takes business very seriously."At the name Bronk, several of the warriors began to spit and yell curses. But the name Glacia was being treated the same way. Cragstone held up a hand and things quieted, but only a bit. "So Glacia treated Gadobhra as an enemy, even though Bronk had agreements to supply our armies? Curse that woman for the idiot she was. Those catapults would have been instrumental in battering down the walls of Wolfsburg. I urged her to get another four dozen from where ever Bronk was having them made. Or would the Baron have refused to make them, knowing how we would use them?"Ben shook his head, "That isn't how he works. He has a mandate from the God of War to sell to anyone. A true mercenary when it comes to dealing arms. If anything, the threat of Winter trying to conquer a major city of the Empire was making him money. There are over two-hundred catapults mounted on the walls of Wolfsburg now, and more arriving all the time. Ben pulled a full color brochure from his ring and handed it to Jarl Cragstone. "Here, take a look. If you ever have a need for the highest-quality god-blessed weapons of war that anyone is producing, I'm sure Baron William will be happy to take your order. Make sure you get him to throw in the free onagers. They're great for taking down castle gates, large monsters, and charging cavalry."The last line was met with frowns, and cursing. Cragstone included. "Your Baron makes money off of both sides of a conflict.""He certainly does, when he sells the machines of war that Gadobhra produces. Ares was quite adamant about that before giving his blessing. He's a merchant, looking to sell to the largest markets. This makes him valuable to the Emperor, if not appreciated by most of the nobles."Cragstone looked at Ben, and his attire. "Enough about your Baron, let's talk about you, man of the south. You belong to a noble family, and look like one of the Emperor's Couriers who have been such a thorn in our side. Tell me again, who are you, and why are you here?"Ben raised his voice slightly, projecting to the crowd, "I am a mercenary, contracted by the Baron of Gadobhra. I work as a scout and a messenger. Information is what I gather for the Baron, and sometimes trade to others for favors. I also start trouble, solve problems, and slay monsters. A man has to have a bit of fun now and then, after all. When I heard the Duchess talking about your tribes and the monsters coming down from the North, I knew the Baron would be interested. Goodboy and I decided to take a ride up here before all the fighting started.""And why would the Baron be so interested in us? Is he going to sell us weapons to use against the Duchess and Giants? Or are you here to spy for the Duchess?"Ben was about to answer, when a woman came rushing out of the crowd. Tamiq had been playing tag with the the children and teaching them small cantrips to summon wisps of wind. Walking back to the front of the crowd, she saw Goodboy rolling in the grass to clean off his coat, since Ben was ignoring his requests for grooming. "He's so fluffy!!"She ran to the startled Snarlfang, grabbing him around the neck and actually bowling him over. Then to the watching barbarians' amazement, the huge predator rolled on his back so she could rub his belly. "Who's a good boy? You!? Yes you are!" After a few minutes, she jumped up and ran to Cragstone. "I need a stick to throw for the puppy, give me one of your daggers."He took a step back. "No. I don't have many left. I'm not letting you steal these, too. get a regular stick!""With those teeth? It needs to be something stronger than normal wood." She looked around, then he eyes zeroed in on Ben, and the staff sticking out of the top of his backpack. "A stick!" All eyes turned toward Ben as she took a step toward him. He slowly took off his pack and took out the Ice Staff that Chartok had stolen. As soon as he did, Tamiq's eyes grew huge."That staff! That was my father's staff! We always fought over who would get it! Glacia took it when he died. We argued all the time about it until she got nasty and cursed me. How did you get it?""Ah...well, it's a complicated story that deals with the last person I was sort of working for..."The woman kept her eyes on the stick, "She would never have let go of that unless she was dead, and I know she's dead because I'm not fuzzy anymore. Did you kill her? How? How are you here if you did? There was a big explosion?"Ben bowed to her, then handed her the staff, "If it was an heirloom of your house, then it belongs to you. And, to be clear, I didn't kill your sister, but I am not blameless in the events. The person who did that deed is dead, destroyed in the same explosion that released the stolen summers, and killed everyone present. Only myself and my faithful hound over there survived." He eyed the distance to Goodboy, preparing to make a run for it.Tamiq struck faster than he could react. One second she was in front of him, and the next she had her arms around his chest in a close hug, with a surprising amount of strength. His back cracked in three places and his breath was driven from his lungs. She talked almost too fast to understand."She's dead! Sounds like you helped kill her, and that's good enough for me. Thank You, Thank You, Thank You. Ding Dong, the Witch is Dead! And my stick! Thanks for my stick! Look puppy, I have a stick!" Then she ran off to Goodboy, and threw the staff far into the meadow. The Snarlfang raced to retrieve it.Ben had fallen on his butt as she released him and was still processing not being dead from her bear hug when Cragstone and Redhoof each took a hand and hauled him to his feet. Redhoof handed him a leather bag of something strong and fermented. Cragstone began laughing, "Ok, Tam likes you, so we can't kill you, no matter why you're here. Let's move this party to the new lodge and we can all get drunk, tell our stories, and figure out if we are friends or enemies." There was grumbling assent for this, and Ben found himself dragged along with the crowd to the center of the camp, where are large building was still being worked on.
To Ben, it looked a lot like a traditional Viking longhouse. Freshly cut logs formed an oval a hundred feet long and forty feet wide. The pitched roof was made of poles for the first layer, then bark, and a final layer of thatch was being added. He knew how fast buildings could be built in this world, but he thought they must have made this a great priority. Broad steps cut into the earth leading downward ten feet to two doors that opened onto the hall. It was all one room inside, and full of people. Sleeping pallets were three deep around the perimeter of the earthen walls, with three cooking fires smoldering in the center. Smoke worked its way up to the roof, drying the poles and thatch before exiting through a smoke hole. No fine tables were waiting for the Jarls of the tribes. Chunks of tree trunks served as stools around a fire. Mugs and drinking horns were produced and filled with alcohol. A large chunk of meat on a spot was moved their fire and people carved off chunks of meat. Ben was handed a drinking horn carved from ivory, almost eighteen inches tall. Someone had carved scenes of an epic battle, human warriors battling against many legged horrors and winged monsters. He took a swig of what turned out to be very strong brandy, glad he spent time drinking with Ozzy. It would take quite a bit of this to make him drunk. He noticed several people watching, some surprised, and some frowning. He smiled at them, "Very tasty." Then drank down the entire contents of horn, and passed it for a refill. Money changed hands between a few people, all of the Jarl's laughed, and Redhoof said. "A strong warrior is a strong drinker. You'll do."Cragstone was also pleased, that much alcohol would also loosen this man's tongue. "So now that we have drink and meat and we're all friends for a time, tell me why your Baron is interested in the tribes. Gadobhra is far from here, at least three days ride, and we we are in the corner of the Empire. No one has claimed these lands in centuries."Ben took another sip and a bite of meat. "That was true until recently, but politics is shifting in the Empire. The Baron of Northguard was a miser who neglected his villages and their defenses, leaving them open to destruction. Even before Winter marched, the peasants had fled to Gadobhra. He had lands to till and a need for people. He's accepted them as liegemen and there are a number of growing villages in the rich lands around Gadobhra and Sedgewick. Seeing this, the Emperor bribed him with the lands along the Northern edge of the Empire, if the Baron would agree to improve their defenses and defend them."Cragstone raised an eyebrow. Ben continued."You're village is on land ceded to the Baron, and part of the Barony of Gadobhra." That started people talking and cursing. Cragstone quieted them, "It's one thing to point at a map and say 'mine', and another to actually claim it. We aren't fond of paying taxes and answering to some lord in a big castle who wants to tell us what to do and when to shit or piss."Ben grinned, "Who the hell does like that? I certainly don't. A man or woman should be free to live their life, love who they want, and raise a family. If they owe something to a lord, then that lord also owes something to them. And no one has the right to restrict a person from achieving the highest level they can. Baron William is outspoken about this, and it's made him very unpopular. Serfs in most of the Empire are restricted to the first Tier. In Gadobhra, we have farmers in the third Tier, and many of us are in the Fourth."That brought about some murmuring. Redhoof appraised Ben again, feeling a bit better about his loss. "A warrior in the fourth Tier is a worthy opponent. Your Baron has many such serving him."Ben shook his head, "Not so many warriors, but a lot of Lumberjacks, Stonemasons, Butchers, Builders, a Barmaid and a Shepherd."One man laughed, "A Shepherd? I suppose your Baron has a lot of cows and sheep. But what can a Barmaid do?"Ben glanced at the man, and said casually, "Kill you before you could blink, or smile and have you staring at her for hours as she pours your beer and takes your money. It all depends on how polite you are. But, if any man wishes to duel with her, I'll give you twenty to one odds." He downed his drinking horn again, and passed it for a refill. Then turned to Cragstone. "But, let's get serious now, as we drink ourselves blind. You have a problem."The Jarl shrugged, "You think so? We've had problems before and always survived. This time will be no different. And it isn't the first time the tribes have had to move."Ben shook his head, "Giants pushed you from your lands, and some of those are coming here to make sure you never return. Ogres and yeti are with them. And the Duchess has to bring her army from the south. She can't leave you hear, and can't let a horde of marauding giants into the Empire. She's worried you and they will band together."Cragstone spit on the fire and cursed. "Never again! The Jotun gave the tribes time to pack and leave. Forceful and unyielding, but they were not wantonly cruel. The other tribes fared less well. The monstrous ogres and trash giants hit them in the middle of the night, killing and burning. Less than a third of those tribes escaped and with little of what they owned. We will fight them, and maybe die to them, but never again will we ally with the monsters of the North." His voice rose higher and higher until he was shouting, and many cheered and raised their glasses.Ben raised his horn and drank again, and his eye was drawn to a carving of what had to be a Jarl on a mounted horse putting a spear into a large butterfly. He turned the horn around, seeing the story of the battle. Cragstone was watching him. Ben looked up, "How old is this horn, and what story is it telling?"Cragstone shrugged slightly, "Old enough that the names of those warriors are lost, but there are other items from that time, and those battles. The tribes fought hard against a swarm of creatures spawned in hell, and were forced from their lands. We moved north to where the swarm couldn't survive the colder temperatures, seeking new lands. We fought hard, won and lost, finally settling in our valleys given to us by the Council of Winter. In exchange for lands, we supported them with warriors and sent our best off to become Rime Knights. Those agreements are now dead, along with the Winter Council. Keep that Horn, Benjamin. At least something of our history will survive.""But where did you come from?"Cragstone drank, and said, "South, somewhere. The old songs speak of grasslands and wooded valleys where life was good. Old songs always say that. But it doesn't matter where we came from, just as it doesn't matter that once we owned the valleys of the North. All that matters now is fighting and dying and hopefully one song is made of our last stand."Ben stood, put two fingers in his mouth, and whistled. Everyone thought it was to get their attention. He spoke loudly, his voice carrying. "It might matter a great deal. Tell me all of your old songs, and what you know. I promise I will put them into a book that my house will cherish. And if your tribes die here, I'll write the story of that battle."Cragstone nodded, "A fair trade, and something to keep us drinking all night. Let me tell you first of Yuri the Old and the giant with no nose."