Chương 212: Day Two Hundred And Ten

Dear Diary, You ever read that meme about 'people worry about going back in time and changing shit, but don't worry about changing the future? Yeah, I've been thinking about that a lot lately. I remember back in Camden I once watched this old movie about a dude who just kinda wandered through life, interacting with historical figures and events in ways that altered shit. Not, like, 'alternate history' changed shit, but 'history would have been different if he hadn't been there' changed shit.

I figure what with magic working in the here and now, that might have made history a little different, but to fuck everything up this bad must have taken some concerted effort. Like, I kinda get that nations are a sort of modern thing; prior to that there were kingdoms that controlled a bunch of land, and even empires that pulled together multiple kingdoms, but there weren't big assed plots of land where no matter what color, size, shape, religion, or whatever you were, you could say something like 'I'm French'.

Like, I think the earliest place like that would have been China, but even there it broke apart a bunch of times before everybody bought into the whole 'China is us, everyplace else is not-China' thing. Makes me wonder what's up with China in the here and now. Like, there's that old lady in Phileo who sells spices, but honestly I'm not sure if she's Chinese, or Thai, or, I dunno, Vietnamese or whatever.

I got a Chinese vibe off of her with that whole 'civilized language' thing, but fuck if I know whether China's the only place that acts like that here, or even back in Camden-Earth. I really gotta go see if she's okay or not. Plague generally doesn't play nice with older people. Then again, she had all those spices and herbs and shit, maybe she had some freaky penicillin powder or something? Think once I get back to Lancaster House I'm gonna go check on her. And buy some spices for the Ladies to mess around with.

That brings me back around to my whole point about changing shit. That gaggle of Ladies who burst into the room when Lancaster told them I'd woken up? Totally not in the Ladies' rooms. Women's rooms. Whatever, I'd collapsed in the master suite, and what with the dude being all grateful about me saving his wife and kid, he just had them install me in the bed right there. Between the women low key threatening to revolt if they didn't get to see me once I woke up, and Lancaster backing them?

Yeah, I'm not sure if they'll be moving out of the women's quarters today, but I'm pretty sure the locks and shit are gonna be either gone or on the women's side of the doors from now on. Baby steps, I guess. Even if sometimes they're Isnomi-esque baby leaping faceplants.

After I got to hold and babble mindlessly at each and every baby at the farm, which apparently had some serious revels at last years 'beginning of spring' New Years party, given the number of infants in the hizzouse ten months later, Saffron chased everybody out so I could get some more rest. I mean, I offered to head back out to my tent, or even crash down in the dining room, but Saffron wasn't having it. Once we had the room to ourselves, she hopped back and brought Marie and the menace along.

Both of whom glomped me thoroughly, then heard me mention 'babies'. The menace hopped down and tiptoe-sprinted to the door, and Marie shot me a longing look. I said, "go ahead," and the two of them went out to meet and greet with Isnomi's peers. Almost peers? Shit, she's so much older than them now, isn't she? I mean, only like a year by the calendar, but most kids won't be doing the shit she's doing until they're five or six, at least. I looked up at Saffron and said, "they grow up so fast, don't they?"

She sighed, smiled, and pulled me down to lie next to her.

"They do. Ours most especially so. It's good she's making friends, though." I snorted.

"most of them are closer to loaves of bread than people at this point though." She raised an eyebrow.

"Are you telling me you think her incapable of forming a lasting impression on them, then?" I shook, my head, laughing.

"Oh, hell to the naw. But I'm thinking the impressions are mostly going to be one way, with her putting her stamp on them. Growing up with a mark on their ass or hand or forehead or some shit that says, 'Property of Isnomi Aetos, fuck with me at your peril'." Saffron flicked me on the forehead. Then she reached down and slapped my ass before taking my hand in hers.

"Isnomi Aetos-Diaz, Goof." I smiled at her, more than a little goofiness in the smile.

"Yep. She is, isn't she?"

"Yes. She takes after her mother, you know."

"Not gonna forget that any time soon, what with her being all advanced for her age and brilliant and shit." She just sighed and pulled my hand to her lips to smooch it a bit, then said, "I meant you, Goof."

"Huh?" That pulled a laugh out of her, which made me smile, since I hadn't intended anything of the sort.

"Leaving her indelible stamp on those around her."

"Pfft. You make me sound like one of those 'Great Men' historians talk about." She smiled and ran her hand down my front, stopping when she ran out of front.

"Oh, I am absolutely aware that you're not a man, love." Canoodling may have ensued after that, stretching itself out until Marie and the menace returned, at which point we all snuggled into bed and slept through the night. Mimic dreamt of moss and stones. I guess that means they're not rolling? In the morning, after we'd all dressed for the day, Saffron leaned over and bonked her forehead into mine as I sat on the edge of the bed, steeling myself for their departure.

"I'm sorry I have to leave, Goof. But I don't feel confident leaving Ophelia and the General alone with Mrs. Driver and George today. Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

"No worries, Kitten. I'm not crippled or anything, just tired."

"I expect you to rest."

"I'll get what rest I can, when I can, I promise, but I'd rather wind up tired and maybe a little beat up than let more kids die." She sighed, hugged me, then it was goodbye kisses and the three of them were gone. I meandered my way down to breakfast, only to find that not only did this farmstead do waffles at least as well as Lancaster House, every single mom I'd impressed insisted on making me at least one, sometimes more.

Nobody else starved or anything, but I had, like, endless waffles to nom as I discussed the day with Larry.

"Your heroic efforts and collapse notwithstanding, we've been remarkably successful here, Commander." I waved a fork at him in a 'go on' gesture. I had buttery waffles to nom. Wouldn't be polite to engage in non-nomming when I could avoid it. Larry shot me a crooked grin before continuing.

"With the larger farmstead here, as well as fewer hands to begin with, we managed to free up a few dozen units of Volunteers. I had them clearing snow and expanding our perimeter both east and west of this point throughout the day. It will take a day or two for them to reach the neighboring farmsteads, but once they do, and once the units clearing snow back to Lancaster house finish their work, we'll be able to move all of the Volunteers there and here to meet any direct push by Calverton towards Lancaster House."

I frowned.

"Does Lancaster House have the capacity to take in any non-combatants we need to evacuate?" He looked at me like I'd just smacked him in the head with a trout. After a minute of thinking, opening his mouth to speak, then shaking his head and starting over, he finally decided on, "I'd never considered it before, but I suspect we do. We might have to move the Volunteers out of the wings, but if non-combatants need shelter, the Volunteers likely should be in the field."

I'd spent that minute disappearing another stack of waffles. When he finished, I swallowed and said, "cool. I think we'd want at least one unit of Volunteers to stay in each wing, both to guard the doors and to keep the peace if need be. Oh, set up an Infirmary in one of the wings for any Volunteers too beat up to keep going. Interchangeable parts or not, they're not disposable parts. You get me?" He nodded.

"Believe it or not, there is already an infirmary set up in each Wing for just that purpose." At my questioning look while I nommed another waffle, he explained, "Father would consider allowing a Volunteer to die when they could be returned to duty extremely poor stewardship."

"Huh. Yeah, I guess that tracks." Inspiration stuck me completely out of nowhere, like it do.

"Hey, am I completely misremembering the map back at Lancaster House, or are the farmsteads basically set up in a big old grid pattern?" When Larry looked super confused, I explained, "like, any given farmstead has another one about a day's travel to the east, west, north, and south?" That got the idea across; I watched it sink home then explode into enlightenment.

"I have no idea why I'd never realized that before." He shook his head.

"I suspect father knows, at least in an intuitive sense. Also, many of the farmsteads around the edges of Lancaster House territory are really closer to villages than simple farmsteads, but they still more or less fit that pattern."

"Pretty much anybody travelling in the area knows that, right? And they'll be sticking to the roads as well, if they come looking for help?"

"Almost certainly, if they're seeking help with the plague or any other natural disaster. If they're fleeing Calverton troops, they're more likely to head cross country. Then again, Calverton might stay off the roads to avoid notice." He ran out of breath and grabbed another waffle without thinking about it; apparently he'd been worried that I'd bite his hand if he took some from the serving tray between us.

Given that the kitchen seemed to be trying some kind of 'can we make more than she can eat' thing, I really didn't see the need to. Besides, good boys get waffles. Positive reinforcement. That's the shit you're supposed to do, right?

"Okay, that means that for the quarantine, we can pretty much just keep a unit of Volunteers at each farmstead crossroads once we've cleared it, with instructions to quarantine anybody who comes in from non-cleared farms." Larry nodded.

"We can also see if there are any farmsteads who have an abundance of Clergy capable of Assessing and Curing those who come in; keeping them with the outer cordon of Volunteers would mean we can address anyone who needs it on the spot instead of making them cool their heels."

"Now we're cooking with gas. Nice. Okay, we're still gonna need to put up an actual perimeter along the southern edge of our cleared space. I'm thinking we place units just within sight of each other, with instructions to light off a signal, then retreat back up our grid, bringing the non-combatants with them, if they see Calverton's army?"

"So long as we station them at the tops of ridges, that should work. Otherwise we won't have enough Volunteers." I shrugged.

"Ridge tops it is. They'll be kinda visible, but if we clear the roads, they're stationed on or near them, and Calverton's coming along uncleared roads or cross country, they'll be able to break contact and get their asses back to report poste haste, right?" He nodded enthusiastically.

"We might just be able to make this work. So long as we have a mobility advantage and are on the defensive, we should be able to meet them with the bulk of our forces, at locations of our choosing." He gave me a speculative look.

"Are you sure you haven't had any classes on strategy and tactics yet?" I shook my head.

"Nah. Might have read a book about it once." That wasn't technically a lie. I'd read a translation of 'Art of War' one day when I'd been super bored back at Eastside. Thing is, none of this was 'military' knowledge, not even ROTC knowledge. Everything I'd thought about was based on what the drug dealers back in my old Camden did; posting lookouts with good legs and clear lines of sight, looking at the world through a lens of 'corners' and 'streets', all of it.

Just because somebody's from the hood and has an illegal profession doesn't make them stupid, and even stupid people can benefit from institutional knowledge. Even if the 'institution' in question is a gang or culture of gangs. Our plans in place, we set down to some serious waffle destruction.

When Larry put his silverware down on his plate with a satiated sigh and said, "any more and I'll make myself sick, which would be a shame given how hard the ladies worked on these," I hopped up out of my chair, walked back to lean into the kitchen.

"Thanks for the waffles, ladies, but Lancaster and I need to get to work now." That got me an unexpected round of hugs and 'thank you's from the women in the kitchen, but after they'd all had their chance to say thanks one more time, he and I escaped to the frozen weather outside. As Lancaster shivered in the cold as we walked over to where the Volunteers had formed up, I thought, hey Boss? How does a Patron give somebody a Boon? Simply will them to have it, and they do.

I suspect were it any more complicated, Ares' followers might be boonless. That pulled a laugh out of me. Thanks Boss. You're the best. I know. You're very welcome, Tabitha Diaz. Before we got started for the day? I dropped that 'fuck cold, I got shit to do' Jotnar whammy on Lancaster. I mean, fuck it, he went to all the trouble of making me his Patron, he might as well get some perks and bennies from it, right? No, Lancaster will not be getting horizontal mambo benefits.

Even if the thought didn't dry my privates like industrial strength talcum powder, I'd never snipe a friend like that, and Bonnie definitely qualified.