70. Closes
Closes
Before he rode in, he closed the cold frame down for winter.
The last of the sage and rosemary came off the bed in a final bundle.
He pressed straw against the herb-bed against the freeze and dropped the lid into its catch.
He saw to the smokers. He saw to Roan’s stall.
He banked the kitchen fire. Then he picked up the sword.
The festival day came two days later. When Kain woke up, he rolled out of bed, and found Ghost waiting for him, looking at him expectantly through its one good eye.
“It’ll be all right,” Kain said. “Don’t worry. I won’t do anything crazy. Just stay ready in case I need you.”
Ghost snorted. Kain went into the kitchen and took down some jerky. He tossed a bit of it to Ghost, and the wolf snapped it up before darting out the back door. Kain watched it go, then finished pulling on his tunic.
Then, he picked up his sword. He fitted his belt through the scabbard, and cinched it onto his waist for the first time since he had killed the gryphon. That done, he pulled on his cloak, and started out the door.
Roan was more than ready, eager as ever to be moving. Kain grabbed the saddle horn and pulled himself up, and rode off up the road toward Tillamore.
When he rode into town, he found a handful of the townsfolk setting up for the festival.
Sam stood there, directing traffic, though Kain could see that it was muted.
The sun was shining, and tables were going up, but a large congregation of adventurers stood off to the side, simply looking at it in confusion. The townspeople seemed nervous. Uneasy.
Kain rode up next to Sam and nodded down to him.
Sam looked up at Kain, and his eyes held the same pleading look that they had held for the previous several months.
Kain didn’t say a word, but Sam seemed to sense that something had changed.
His gaze dropped to the sword riding ready at Kain’s hip, and his eyebrows went up.
Sam clapped his hands together.
“All right, everyone. Let’s get a move on, shall we? This festival isn’t going to set itself up. We’ve got cakes and pies, and there’s a pumpkin-carving contest. Is this Tillamore, or one of those stuffy coastal cities where no one has any fun?”
The people moved faster, urged on by Sam’s sudden change of heart. Sam, though, wasn’t done.
“And where’s the music? We need a fiddle going. Come on, where’s Carol? She usually does all this stuff.” Sam met his eye. “Go get her.”
Kain rode off without saying a word, angling up toward the Martinson farm.
When he got there, he found Carol and Will Martinson working steadily, loading up bales of hay onto a wagon.
As Kain rode up, both of them turned to look at him.
Both of them marked the sword on his hip, then looked back to his face.
“What’s going on?” Kain asked. “Sam wants to know why you don’t have the festival halfway set-up by now.”
Carol shrugged. “I honestly didn’t know if it was happening or not.”
“In Sam’s own words, is this Tillamore, or one of those stuffy coastal cities?” Kain shrugged.
“Well, it sounds as if you’re needed, and this can be put off until tomorrow,” Will Martinson shrugged. “Carol, head on down. Kain, why don’t you bring Roan up and into the barn?”
Kain nodded and swung down. Carol gave him a small smile as she walked off down the street, and Kain led Roan up and into the barn. Will followed him, and they soon had Roan stabled. Will reached over the railing and patted the horse down, then glanced at Kain.
“You’ve taken real good care of this horse, haven’t you?”
Kain shrugged. “I think so. He’s a wonderful animal. You raised him well.”
“You paid for him,” Will raised an eyebrow. “He’s yours. But I hope you keep treating him the way you have been.”
Kain had the distinct feeling they were no longer talking about horses.
“I see.”
“I know how to find nightcap mushrooms.” Will crossed his arms. “And I know you have a fondness for jam.”
“Loud and clear.”
“Good.” Will cleared his throat. “Now let’s get down to the festival. It wouldn’t do for Carol to get the feeling that we were talking behind her back.”
“Not at all.” Kain turned and walked out of the barn.
He rather liked Will Martinson.
He would be careful around his jam from that time onward.
When he made it down to the main street, people were already coming out.
Pies and cakes and breads and jams and a great deal more were already being set out, and music hung in the air.
Carol was directing traffic, and as he walked up, she reached out and took his arm.
Her hand felt comfortable on his sleeve, and he stepped up next to her.
With her free arm, she continued to point, directing people this way and that.
“Breads go over there. You have a game? Ring toss? Perfect. Set it up on the boards in front of Sam’s store. Make sure people are pitching the rings right at his doorway, it’ll drive him crazy.”
Kain nodded, and Carol squeezed his arm and shot him a look. As they stood there, Sam walked back, glanced at them, glanced at them a second time, and then snorted.
“It’s about time.”
As he walked off, several women carrying foods walked past, and Kain heard things to the same effect being murmured. Kain set his jaw.
A small group of adventurers, led by a woman wearing official-looking Guild armor, approached. She was in her forties, Kain guessed, and had slightly-greying hair and firm lines of disapproval etched across her face. Kain squared his shoulders, and Carol let go of his arm.
“I think I need to handle this.”
“I’ll come with you.”
Carol whistled sharply, getting Sam’s attention, and the three of them walked through the swirl of light and life.
When they approached, the woman came forward and crossed her arms.
“Might I inquire as to the nature of this disruption?”
“Fall festival,” Kain said. “One of the best celebrations of the year.”
“Festival?” The woman’s eyes narrowed. “This seems unconducive to business.”
“I assure you, it’s anything but,” Sam stepped forward.
“More money changes hands on this day than pretty much any other. It’s a time for the community to come together, and to celebrate what makes it great.
” He paused, then held out his hand. “Any and all adventurers, warriors, barbarians, ruffians, and other non-community members are more than welcome to come.”
“Are they really?” The woman asked. “I was led to believe that there was no shortage of animosity between our two peoples.”
“And I’m led to believe that your vocabulary needs a bit of a downgrade,” Sam shrugged.
“It’s a festival. We can go back to scowling at each other tomorrow.
For right now, let’s set aside anything that divides us, and just have fun.
” He paused, then shrugged. “And there’s plenty of food, and it’s all free. So you might as well go and enjoy it.”
Several warriors streamed past the woman and walked through the festival. A few of them started dancing, and one pulled out a lute. The townspeople clapped along, and the faintest hints of a smile crossed the woman’s face. It faded, though, and she crossed her arms.
“Well, festival or no, I’ve been sent from the Guild. I assume that you received the report about Tillamore being classified as a Dungeon-Adjacent Settlement?”
“We did,” Sam cut a look at Kain.
“Then you’ll be aware that the charter of laws and rates and such things is en route to your location. It should arrive soon,” the woman continued. “Do you have anything in place to enforce these requirements?”
Sam and Kain looked at one another, and Kain turned back to the woman.
“We’re working on it.”
“I’m afraid that such an answer isn’t good enough for us,” her face was firm.
Kain drew himself up, and let her feel the B-rank under his skin the way he had once made men on a road feel it. The woman blinked.
“I said that we’re working on it. Tillamore takes care of its own. I assure you, we will manage things within our borders.”
“Got it.” The woman took a step back. “Then enjoy your festival.”
“We will,” Carol gripped Kain’s arm tightly. “I assure you, we will.”
With that, the festival exploded into full swing.
The music became louder than ever as the warrior with the lute climbed up onto the stage with the fiddler.
A dance began in the middle of the street, work boots and armored boots tromping the same ground.
Kain and Carol were pulled into the midst of it, sampling food and whirling left and right as they simply absorbed the music and the light and the life.
Around midday, a strange, multicolored wagon pulled up and into town.
Kain glanced at it, and found it to be the same wagon that had appeared at the spring festival, what seemed to be a lifetime ago.
The colors on the wagon were faded, and a large chunk of the rear of it seemed to be missing, but it was there.
The weary horses came to a stop, and the windows flew open as the woman set up her shop.
“Take a look at that,” Kain pointed up at it. Carol tilted her head.
“What is that?” She asked. “I remember seeing it, but it looked like a scam.”
“Very much so. Come on,” Kain said. “I want to see what she does this time.”
He started walking toward her, even as she set out her wares. A few warriors paused and glanced over things, then walked away. Her eyes met Kain’s, and he nodded as he walked up.