I'd Like To Make a Will

There were three gates to the Lowpool.

The first was made of trees. Some distance away from the trade road, the pines and alders thickened, the brush grew wild and moss thrived in the dampness that even the encompassing sunlight could not completely illuminate.

To the riders and the single cart that leisurely made their way along the path, the scent of the forest deepened into the sweetness of rotting things and growing life.

It was a scent Defi had only before encountered in the forest of kings, where the rulers of Ontrea buried their dead. It was the lone primeval forest in all of Ontrea, the rest of the forests and woods having been thinned out for agriculture and expansion. Even keeping it standing was a source of pride, for agricultural land was precious in the kingdom.

The mountain forest that separated the Lowpool from the rest of the world smelled even more robust than the forest of kings. Defi's skin warmed pleasantly under the green-dappled sunlight of high morning. His eyes caught on a bush that appeared to be curling around a large treetrunk, runners sprouting new branches and triangular leaves. It made the tree appear to have an odd fur stole.

It was not the only peculiarity to Defi's eyes; the vegetation grew thick under the trees, colorful and riotously variegated.

The scent of wild bursting life was so thick it could be tasted.

The fast pace that the scouting party took the last time they passed this way had not given Defi this sense of being oddly swaddled by nature.

The second gate was made of rocks.

After the forest thinned and the town farms started dotting the mountainsides, the path widened enough for three carts abreast.

The ubiquitous piles and spires of rock that jutted out of the ground around the Lowpool and Genlet dominated the landscape, rising above the tall green trees, blocking the rushing streams and forming pools before allowing the flow of water to freely speed on its way. Even the farms rarely dared to cut down their splendour, and there were farmhouses built with rock pillars forming parts of their walls.

The path wound around the spires and boulders in lazily curving patterns, twice directly cutting through cliffs.

Defi was not blind to the defensive value of the arrangement.

The Lowpool truly could be called a natural fortress.

He glanced at the others. The faint strain in their faces was disappearing the nearer they got to town, their laughs more real, and their smiles brighter.

He felt some envy, but the heaviness in his heart was lightened just a little.

Hanel grinned. "Look, Defi! We're nearly there! Ah, those Genlet cooks don't know how to make breaded herring right. I'm looking forward to tonight's market."

Defi smiled, mostly genuine, at the other's enthusiasm. "Breaded herring? I haven't had it before."

"Those southern cooks are barbarians," Hanel concluded.

"Han!" The archer's sister was stifling laughter on his other side. How could the cooks in the south, where the capital was, be barbarians? "Come with us to the night market, Defi. You won't be disappointed."

Defi hadn't been disappointed by the seafood in Ascharon yet, so he agreed. He first needed to return to the Garge house to check on the slimes and also drop by the orphanage and Sarel's homestead.

The town gate came into view and some of the party let out sighs and shouts of relieved happiness. The road inclined upward and the sun was bright on pale stone – under the influence of these factors, the gate hung above them shining like a door to salvation.

Two nights had passed since they left the town. The subsequent events were so intense that even Defi who had the Current supporting his fortitude felt deeply fatigued in body and mind. The others would surely be more affected than he.

It was natural to see the entrance to their homes and shout in joy.

And he, had he not lived on this mountain lake for months already?

Somehow, the sight of that unassuming wooden gate held up by roughly hewn white stone made some of Defi's tiredness dissipate. It was likely some reflection from the happiness of his companions. Or it represented a chance to finally rest without complications.

It was a simple gate, fitting for the entrance into a simple life.

He did not wish to embroil himself in whatever the major was planning, or what brought one of the Imperial Household Guard to Genlet, or what secrets the Gamber Blades held.

Here, in the Lowpool, there was only someone wishing to steal the land from under him, and mysterious searchers flitting about the mountains. Those were manageable problems.

Not to mention, his guardianship over three exceedingly curious children was over, and he had Turq back with him.

Was it no wonder he was feeling lighter?

They were met at the town gate.

"Welcome back," the eyes of the man smiled. "The mayor would like to welcome you home. Tonight, the food in the night market will be free."

Defi's lips twitched as the whole of them cheered.

"Just the food, Edlar?" called a voice out cheerfully. The others started dismounting.

"You will have to apply to the mayor personally if you want more," came the calm answer.

There was a great laugh from the bear of a man that asked the question. "Chelua take me that I say this, but I'd rather face another army!"

Beside him, Han bent over his saddlehorn, trying to stifle snickers and failing. It was very different from the first impression that Defi got of him, the silent and sullen archer.

Defi looked at him in amusement, as the others smiled and laughed at the large man's sally. Was the mayor so formidable? Formidable and beloved at the same time. To have perfectly balanced her reputation, she was not an ordinary person.

"In any case," Edlar continued. "The incident must be thoroughly investigated. Come by the townhall tomorrow and ask for me or Gwenre."

"How 'bout today?" asked a woman. "I think I won't have more nightmares tonight if I do."

"That is also possible."

Defi had to work tomorrow and didn't know how much time would be taken by the questioning. He dismounted. They were just inside the gates, and the barracks were nearby. He glanced in the direction of the town hall, contemplative.

"You're going today?" Helan asked.

"Yes. I might not have time tomorrow."

"Uncle would be worried. Han and I are heading home."

He nodded. "I'll be meeting you later then."

The siblings made their goodbyes and broke off.

There were few people that owned horses in town. The town guards had most of them due to needed patrols. Defi patted his horse's scaled neck and led the mare toward the stables.

*

Defi entered the town hall in the company of five others. He glanced at the man beside him but Natan looked like his usual self, if slightly paler. The initially shaky steps he took when he got off the horse appeared to have been controlled well enough.

They passed by the clerk to take the steps to the next floor when Defi heard a familiar voice.

"What do you mean it has to be passed down? The land is still the same land is it not?"

"Yes," the clerk smiled politely, "but the town cannot sell the homesteads. Once they pass to the town, the land would become ordinary town land."

Defi stopped. Was the woman talking about the Garge homestead? It sounded like she thought the owner was dead. It could be another homestead, but he would not mistake the woman talking to the clerk.

Agreine huffed. "Who in the world put such conditions on such a small patch of land?"

The clerk's smile became even more polite.

Before she could say anything, Defi asked wryly. "Madam, surely you have not killed me off already?"

Agreine whirled, to see Defi looking quizzically at her. An expression of shock came over her face. "You were abducted by bandits!"

Did news spread so quickly? "And by the grace of those who watch over us, many have returned safe."

"Are you still planning to stay in this unsafe place?"

"I wonder, if it is truly unsafe, why you are so eager to buy."

She looked him over, then the five people who were waiting for Defi, and left in a snit, head held high.

Defi stepped nearer the clerk. "She thought I was dead?"

The clerk sighed, then smiled at Defi. "She appeared certain, but we do not make transactions without rigorous confirmation."

"The land will revert to the town should I die?"

"Unless willed to another or sold by your own hands, yes. The freedom of a deed-owner is great, and deeds are protected by stringent laws, but in the end it is still a deed-lease. You might say that in Ascharon, the only true landowner is the emperor."

"I see. Thank you." He remembered that her name was Karis.

"Of course."

Defi was about to turn away when he saw the hesitant look on her face.

"What is it?"

"I...there are rumors that the children you adopted are the offspring of the Count il Fandre, and you have been hiding them from him. And that Sarel poisoned a whole noble banquet in the capital."

Defi quickly swallowed his shock.

"I must ask," he said evenly. "where did you hear this?"

"It is circulating around the town most egregiously, young Defi."

The voice that explained was rich and slightly croaky.

"Lady mayor," greeted Defi. "just the town?"

"Talk flies like wind," she answered. "But it can still be managed."

He thought quickly, then a sharp smile slashed across his face.

"Mayor, I'd like to make a will."