RavensDagger

  Chapter Two Hundred and Forty-Seven - Dam It All

  The cart rattled and bounced across the road. It was too low to the ground to have room for suspension, which really sucked. Every rut and bump iherwise det road made me jump up, and then I crashed back down with a heavy whump.

  My bum was going to be so sore.

  “So,” I asked. “Where are the mole people living?”

  Guard Captain Ward leaned back a bit. “They live underground, usually. Some of their vilges are open to the air though. They have walls most of the way around, with s over the tops of their vilges.”

  “s?” I asked.

  Bastion answered that ohe Sylphfree mountains are home to these vicious creatures called amphipteres.”

  “What are those?” I asked.

  “They’re long, snakelike creatures with wings. They’re the offspring of a dragon and a non. ing, in their own base way, and aggressive. We fight them off when we , aroy their s whenever possible. They don’t attack sylph as often though,” Bastion said.

  “But the mole people don’t like them,” I guessed.

  “The issue is that the amphipteres like the mole people. More specifically, the way they taste. Mole people have poor eyesight. They have other seo make up for it, but they’re vulnerable to attacks from above, and often ’t react to them.”

  “And the sylph ?” I asked.

  Ward ughed. “We show those flying snakes what for,” he said. “A few good guards with sharp senses scare one off easily. A few arrows, a magical attack or two, and they’ll fly off to find easier prey.”

  “They’re still dangerous,” Bastion said. “Especially when ered. They strike quickly, and some have natural magics to lean upon. Their draicestry means their breath is dangerous. Children have been snatched away in the middle of smaller towns before.”

  I gasped, a hand moving over my mouth. “That’s awful!”

  Bastion nodded. “It’s why we keep their popution low, culling them when we .”

  “They’re not smart?” I asked, just to be sure.

  “No smarter than a rabid dog,” Ward said.

  Well, I wouldn’t agree with ever hunting down a dog, but I could uand the sylph hunting the amphipteres if they were so dangerous. “So, the mole people live underground to avoid giant sky snakes. I guess that makes sense.”

  “It’s more than that,” Bastion said. He paused as we passed over some particurly bumpy bumps. “The mole people have cultural ties to the world, to the underground. They have a few dungeons deep uhe earth as well. It’s where they’re meant to be. Having them out on open nd or, World forbid, in the air, would be like tossing a dozen sylphs into the o and telling them to make do.”

  “I think I get it,” I said.

  I put my hands down onto the bend pushed myself up a bit, abs some of the boung with my arms as I took in the tryside. There were little stands of trees here and there, all clumped up, with craggy, rock-covered spots between them.

  Birds flitted between the clumps of forest with eager energy and happy trills, and I even saw a grey fox slinking away in the distance.

  The further we journeyed from Granite Springs, the more the woods thied, though the road stayed the same. A long, straight path, covered in loose white gravel. Soon we were crossing splits in the road that lead to little quarries busy at work.

  The road didn’t pass too close to them, I guessed because the walls around the quarry might colpse, and having the road hem would be dangerous. Still, I could make out sylphs, some operating boxy maes, others w to load up carts with big square-cut blocks of what I guessed to be granite.

  “So, is that why Granite Springs is called Granite Springs?” I asked.

  “It is,” Ward firmed. “We’re one of the rgest producers h-hewn stone in the kingdom.”

  “Isn’t all of Sylphfree mountainous?”

  “It is, but you ’t just dig a quarry anywhere. Not with the risk of ndslides and erosion causing trouble iure,” Ward said. “And the stone from here is quite u has some magical properties that I’m not clever enough to really ent on.”

  I hey seemed to care about the envirohen, at least a little bit.

  We rattled past a cart pulled by two donkeys, loaded up with a few dozen granite blocks. The driver stared at us as we passed, then doffed his big hat when I waved.

  “That’s it, up ahead,” Ward said.

  I turned on my bench, then put a hand on Bastion’s shoulder for bance as I stood up. The road leading out of the toarallel to the river, though not closely. The river wasn’t as straight, and meandered around as it cut through the hilly ndscape. We’d even crossed a tle bridge made of the local sto some point.

  That same river was wider ahead, with a few smaller rivulets flowing into it.

  The dam was impossible to miss.

  It was a wall of dirt and mud, three times as tall as I was from tippy-toes to ear-tips. The dam was unfinished; it only stretched halfway across the river, with a palisade above it. Not fio the river, a rge part of it was over nd, serving as an ordinary wall. It didn’t look like a fortification capable of proteg anything bigger than a vilge though.

  “That’s more impressive than I was expeg,” Bastion said. “They’ve poured a lot of time building that up.”

  “We take it apart in an afternoon, I’m sure,” Captain Ward said. “Packed earth isn’t that strong, and I think all they’ve used for reinfort are tree trunks.”

  “Like a beaver dam,” I said.

  Ward nodded. “An order of magnitude rger, but essentially, yes.”

  “Captain, stop us a hundred paces from their gate,” Bastion said. “I think we’ll approach with just three of us.”

  “Three will be enough?” Ward asked.

  Bastion nodded and stepped off the side of the wagon, his wings beating quick to slow his fall. “Three will be plenty. The goal is to avoid antagonizing them unless we don’t have a choi the matter.”

  “They’re the ones building a dam,” Captain Ward said as he climbed down.

  I hopped off and nded with a bounext to the two sylphs. “Maybe they have a good reason for it?” I asked.

  “Like what, starving Granite Springs?” Ward asked.

  I shook my head. “I don’t know. But I e up with ideas. Maybe they know there’s going to be a big flood from above and they want to slow it down. Maybe they want to use the dam to make power. Maybe the river o be diverted to, uh, save their vilge or something?”

  Ward blinked. “Well, I suppose some of those are possible. If unlikely.”

  “As unlikely as otherwise peaceful neighbours building a rge dam over a nearby river?” I asked.

  Bastion hummed. “Captain Bunch has a point,” he said. “It wouldn’t do to assume the worst without all the facts. So, let’s be cordial and find out what’s going on here.”

  The rest of the guards disembarked from the wagon, but they remained where they were. I didn’t envy them if they had to stand around and wait. The sun was nid cheery above, but it was also warm, and there weren’t too many trees o the road for cover.

  “Stay behind me,” Bastion said as he took the lead.

  Captain Ward grabbed a spear hao him by one of his guards and used it as a walking stick as he walked o me. He had a small round shield too; a buckler, I think.

  “Sir Bastion,” Ward asked as we made our way across the road. There was aran the dam wall, a doorway above a trench with wooden pnks held up by ropes. I retty sure I could jump the wall though.

  “Yes, Captain Ward?”

  “I wouldn’t question you before the guards, but is bringing the... civilian wise?”

  My ears perked. He was talking about me.

  “Broccoli , surprisingly, hold her own.” Bastion looked back towards me. “Though, Broccoli, if things go bad, do take flight. This isn’t yht, and I wouldn’t like to see you hurt here.”

  “I wouldn’t like to see you hurt either,” I said.

  He chuckled. “I take care of myself.”

  He retty good fighter. Probably... defihe best one aboard the Beaver Cleaver.

  “Alright,” I said.

  There wasn’t time for more talk. A form shifted above the wall—a shortish brown-furred figure in a long coat with what looked like a gambeson under mail. He had a helmet on that looked a bit like a pith hat, and an elongated, pinkish face with beady little eyes.

  “Halt!” he called out. His voice was a squeaky thing, high pitched, as if someone was talking with their nose pinched.

  Bastion’s boots ched to a halt, aepped behind him. “We’ve halted,” he shouted back.

  The mole person on the wall blihen squinted. “Oh, yes. Give me a moment!” he said before turning and disappearing out of sight.

  “I didn’t uand that st part,” Ward said.

  “He asked us to give him a moment,” I said.

  Bastion nodded. “Their nguage isn’t too different from the on tongue. But they have adapted it. Some sounds they ’t pronounce, and they use lots of jargon. I’m certain the captain here could uand them perfectly well, given some time to get used to their at.”

  “It’s a bit squeaky,” I admitted.

  “I think it might travel well underground,” Bastion said.

  Three mole people appeared on the wall, including the one we saw a moment before. “State your business!” one of them said. His fur was bck, and his armour was a lot more intricate. Something resembling full pte, with decorative work on the edges. He was hatless, but he did have a nice capelet.

  Bastion cleared his throat. “I am Bastion Coldfront, Royal Padin of Sylphfree. I am here to speak with whoever is in charge. I e peacefully, with no ill i.”

  The mole person stared at Bastion, and I couldn’t quite read his expression. His pals sniffled at the air, though, but that could have meant anything. “And who’s that with you, padin?”

  “Hi!” I called out with a big wave. “I’m Broccoli Bunch! And I’m looking to make friends a cool new people!”

  Moley A. HoleyDesired Quality: Someone kind and friendly who likes avoiding beaches and who enjoys deep holes.Dream: To bee the General of the Eastern Garrison.

  Holey seemed like a niough fellow.

  “I am Guard Captain Ward, of Granite Springs,” Ward replied after a moment. I retty sure he said that in his own nguage, but no one seemed to mind.

  “And what are two armed sylphs and a... long-eared human doing here?” Holey asked.

  “I’m actually a bun,” I corrected. “But I used to be a normal-eared human. Also, I’m not armed! I left my spade bay ship.”

  “We are here to talk,” Bastion said. “Granite Springs is ed about the stru you have here.”

  Holey huffed very mightily. “Then Granite Springs should have answered the letters we sent!” he sniped back.

  Bastion turo Ward. “Did the molefolk send aers to Granite Springs?” he asked.

  “hat I’m aware of,” was the reply. “And if they did, I would know.”

  Bastion nodded slowly. “Good sir, I believe we have a lot to discuss. It seems as if unications weren’t terribly clear, leading to... the current situation. Perhaps we could all parley? Preferably peacefully?”

  Holey eyed us all for a moment, then nodded. “Lower the gate!” he called out over his shoulder. “You three may enter. But no funny business!”

  “Well then,” I said. “Let’s go have a chat!”

  ***

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