Chương 37: 36 – Appropriate Appropriation

The delegation of soldiers wasn't moving quickly, so we beat them back to the bar with little trouble. After nightfall, the bar was the most well-lit place in town, so that would definitely be where the soldiers would go. I wasn't sure whether the general had specifically ordered the soldiers from Pemolar's Hill to visit their homes and families, but we saw at least two more reunions on our way back. If the commander had done it on purpose, it was a nice touch.

Whatever they were here for, we'd certainly be more predisposed to give it to them now that we'd received an unexpected visit from friends and family. As a town, the mood couldn't have been higher. It made me even more worried. A healer was actually tending to Normuran when we walked in, and more were circling the room, going from patient to patient, and finding little to treat. Norman did good work, but it seemed he'd grown sick from the mana draughts he'd been chugging.

There wasn't much the healers could do for him. Rest was the only cure for that particular sickness. I'd learned that from Edra herself. She was one of the few magic users other than Norman in town, and she used to overtax herself on water magic when she first gained the skill. He'd be fine in the morning, but I was glad to see some of the military's healers were seeing to him, as well as the refugees from Mitoras. Mom and Dad were nowhere to be found. Both of them were likely packing what little grain they could.

With the cart broken, they'd likely be grabbing barrels by hand and rolling them down toward the pepper pit, or maybe my lab. Heavens, I missed my lab.

"There's the Mayor," Reid said, pointing to a table at the far end of the room. Dobretin was there, kneeling on the bench beside a healer who was tending to one of the patients. I strode up to them quickly.

"Hi, Klyder," I said, addressing the patient first.

"How's the leg feeling today?"

"Mera! Good to see you. It seems we've finally had a bit of luck, eh?" he replied.

"As you can see, Miss Ake here has it so numb I can barely even feel it. Feels like heaven compared to the shit Normuran was doing." The healer, surprisingly, scowled at the patient.

"Healer Normuran has exhausted himself from healing over a hundred patients, and had to spread his mana very thin. Despite that, he has managed to stabilize almost everyone. A feat our entire squad would likely struggle to match. Do not speak ill of him again." I blinked.

"Uh… s-sorry. I didn't mean him no offence," Klyder replied, chastened. The woman suddenly blushed a little.

"Excuse me. I overreacted. I just…" she turned, eyeing the sleeping healer in the corner.

"You don't know how lucky you were to have him." The woman wore the usual livery of the field medic corps. I'd seen it once or twice when small groups of soldiers would travel between the frontlines and the capital. Normuran was in his early-fifties, about the same age as Dobretin if I had to guess. This woman was probably ten years younger than him. She was a First Class Healer Adept; that was roughly the equivalent of a Master Sergeant in April's enlisted ranks.

It seemed that without even having met her, Normuran had managed to make a fan. I wondered how long that would last after she actually spoke to him.

"Of course he is," I said. I raised my voice a little when I caught Burnom's eye near the bar.

"Our town has all of the best people! Even our bums save lives!"

"Fuck off, Storybitch!" He shouted back, and a few of the patrons laughed. I did too. Even some of the refugees were catching on. Edra smacked him from across the bar, and I winced. Some people had no sense of humor. I turned back to the three and focused on Dobretin.

"Oppa, I wanted to let you know that some guy in a lot of fancy armor is on his way here. I'm guessing he's the leader of this detachment."

"He's the General," Healer Ake said, before turning to face the Mayor.

"General Maulander."

"So late? I expected him to stop by in the morning," he said, standing up from the table.

"Well, his healers are already doing exceptional work. I'm sure Norman would be happy for the relief, if he'd ever manage to wake up to thank you."

"He would, but you wouldn't be able to tell, the sour ass," I said, fondly. It was hard to dislike a man who'd literally collapsed healing your friends and family after all. When I turned back, I caught the healer staring at him, too. When she saw me looking, she jumped and made to move on to the next patient, but Dobretin stopped her.

"Miss Ake, if you don't mind, could you give me an idea of the General's disposition? Angry, sour, happy, what he likes? That sort of thing?" The healer paused for a moment, thinking, before turning back to him. She looked conflicted.

"The General is…" A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. Her expression fell as she looked around the room at the joyous people. Even the wounded were recovering nicely. Fireflies were becoming more scarce now as the days grew colder, but they drifted in and out of the bar lazily. Everyone was excited that the army had arrived.

The farmers had all figured out what they were here for, but everyone else was just glad they wouldn't have to worry so much about trolls for a little while. Those who had realized that food might be a problem this winter were wise enough to keep it to themselves. I almost wished I could join in their levity, but watching the healer's dark countenance, and with my talent all but screaming at me that another attack was on the horizon, I knew I couldn't.

"Ah. That sort of man," Dobretin said. He shrugged his shoulders as if preparing for war. I glanced toward the door and found Reid nervously looking out the window from where he'd opened the shutter. I smiled. Ever the scout. He turned and waved at me, pointing outside.

"I think he's here," I told the Mayor. We didn't have to wait long. The door opened, and a metal boot stepped onto the wooden floor. It creaked in a strange mirror to when Lieutenant Berkenem had stepped on that same floor. Where the Lieutenant's gold armor had been faded, dented, and torn from use, the man who entered now was gleaming. His armor looked like it had been polished for hours. The light of the tavern revealed what the darkness outside had hidden.

The rank insignia etched on his shoulder plates was definitely that of a general. Upon entering, he stepped a few paces into the room to allow his men to follow after. He took off his helmet, revealing a broad face to match a broad body. I had to look up to see him towering above everyone at least six foot five. He had a salt and pepper mustache but his beard was shaven clean. Thin wisps of graying hair covered the top of his head. He seemed comfortable in the heavy armor, like he'd spent more time in it than out.

"Where is the Mayor of this town?" he called into the silence his entrance had created. Dobretin stepped forward, staring up at the tall man.

"My name is Dobretin. I'm the Mayor of Pemolar's Hill. What may I call you?"

"I am General Maulander, Commander of the Central War Camp guarding the rift, and I have come with dire news," he said. Dobretin wiped a tired brow.

"You bring dire news to a town already steeped in it. We've suffered an attack recently, and as you probably already know, Mitoras has fallen. Those here are refugees from that town."

"Damnation!" the man barked.

"It's worse than you probably know, especially if the Eastern route has fallen. Have you received any missives from Neogon?" Dobretin nodded.

"One, warning us of the break. None since."

"Then you likely don't know… as I said, the worst has come to pass. Neogon cannot man the Eastern War Camp guarding the rift. He has traveled northeast up the border."

"Northeast?"

"To defend against the Eschal invasion," Maulander said, answering the unasked question. Gasps echoed around the room at that announcement. Dobretin's eyes fell on me, and I winced as I realized something in my lack of surprise had told him once again that I'd already known. At least this time, my knowledge came entirely from Mom, instead of my talent.

"We'd… heard rumors. We didn't want to believe them. I have friends in Scelasta. Some of our people are even from Eschal. Why would they do this?"

"I only know that they have," he said.

"I suspect they have found some way to induce a rift break. There have been more breaks, unusual breaks, all focused on Neogon's camp, spilling goblins and trolls all over the eastern end of the country."

"You're saying there are constant rift breaks happening? Seems like a General would be more useful there than here?" he said. Maulander did not like that.

"Straight to the point, then? Well, have it your way. The attack on General Neogon's camp has decimated our food supplies. I know that Pemolar's Hill has always had bounteous harvests. We will be taking four in five parts of all your grain, and any other resources we might be able to use at the rift." If the declaration of Eschal's invasion had scared people, this brought on a dead quiet, the likes of which can only be found when an entire town is threatened.

Smiles turned sour, and the fear turned to anger in an instant. Threaten these people with trolls and fights, and they might panic. Threaten their livelihoods and they would fight like rabid beasts. The man at the center of all that sudden hostility seemed to barely notice. In fact, he seemed to swell and thrive at the looks of astonishment and outrage.

"Four parts in five! You would have us starve!" Dobretin said, outraged.

"I would have you protected!" The general replied.

"Better an ache in the belly than a blade, yes? This food will be going to feed your sons, daughters, brothers, and cousins! The people giving their lives to protect you! Why do you stare at me with such rage?" Dobretin's eye twitched, but he sighed, and let the expression fall from his eyes, before looking at the man more calmly.

"Surely we could come to a compromise? We could perhaps part with three fifths of the harvest, but four, and you will send those sons and daughters home to caskets and untrodden dirt when their service is finished." Maulander grinned.

"Three? Three in Five. Hmm." Dobretin brightened a little.

"If you only took three parts in five, we could make certain to–!" The man moved like lightning. One moment, his arms were folded in front of his chest, and the next, his gauntleted fist was smashing into the unsuspecting Mayor's face with a devastating crunch. I screamed as Dobretin tumbled, blood spraying from his mouth. Even in his fall, he threw himself to the side to avoid crashing into one of the tables holding an injured refugee. He tumbled over a chair, and it collapsed in splinters of wood.

"I swear… you small town Mayors. All the same. Every last one of you seems to think you're the first to have discovered that diplomacy skill, and every time you're shocked when you meet people who can resist it," Maulander snarled. I barely caught his words as I glared at him with unbridled rage. How dare he? How fucking dare he?

"Four parts in five, of every resource this town can provide. Bandages, food, clothes, little Mayor," the man continued.

"I have people whose talents will show if you are lying." Dobretin turned to glare up at the General.

"Fine! I can't stop you. One way or another, you'll get your four-fifths. I know that. But as you said, these are our sons and daughters you'd be forcing to take from their own families! They'll hate you for it. So you'll get your damn food, but if you don't want a fucking mutiny when you leave, you take the fucking East road. You liberate Mitoras, and you spend the time to clear out every patch and speck of rift scum you find.

You do it, or you'll find no succor here when next the winters come and your food banks run low. We'll treat you the same as we did the trolls!" Maulander blanched, just a little shocked at the fire coming from the fallen Mayor. I clicked my jaw shut, realizing I was equally shocked. He looked around the room. Really looked at each of us. The soldiers behind him looked nervous. I spotted Reid near the door, his hand edging towards a knife. Maulander was not afraid.

I watched his eyes widen slightly when he spotted me, pausing for a moment longer than the others. Finally, he looked back down at the fallen man with a hint of wariness.

"Hmph. A mayor with a spine. Now I've seen everything. Fine. Four fifths, by tomorrow at noon. We ride with the setting sun, and we will liberate Mitoras." Dobretin wiped his bloody lip and nodded grimly. Maulander turned and gave a purposefully long look at me, before he strode out the door, trailed by his soldiers.