Chương 28: Inside at Last!

"Sure?" Emily replied.

"That's not against the rules?" I asked, concern in my voice.

"Oh. No, you are fine. You cannot sleep in the cabin. But you can certainly come in for dinner. And you can even stay for a while after. If it would be considered appropriate for a guest, then it would be appropriate for you," Emily said.

"The bishop won't know, and say something?" I asked hesitantly. Colin barked out a laugh.

"How's he gonna know? He can't scry on us." I was a little confused. I had sworn that multiple people had told me to stay out of the cabin to avoid any air of impropriety.

"I swear everyone has made it seem like he could. Heck, you haven't even let me take a peek inside so far!" I was sure I sounded exasperated right now. Emily and Colin both shared knowing smiles before Emily sighed and answered my unasked question, "Ah yes. I am sorry about that. At first I felt it would be better to keep you from coming in the cabin at all. We did not know you after all."

"Then I wanted to see if you really did have self control, and that this cabin truly was mine, and Colin's. The last few days have just seemed amusing as I could tell you were slightly exasperated." The amusement was clear in Emily's voice. I could only shake my head.

"Alrighty then. Well, that's ridiculous, but can we get out of the rain now? We can finish this conversation inside. Otherwise I'm getting in my tractor until someone brings me some food." Was I pouting? No, of course not… Emily smiled and said, "Of course. Come on in." The three of us, along with the two rabbits, made our way to the front door of the cabin. I let Emily open the door. She did so, and with a sweeping gesture, invited me inside.

Their cabin was larger than my own was going to be, but it was still relatively small. It was twenty feet long and sixteen feet wide. I was surprised to see a real wooden floor. I hadn't seen the inside, but in my mind, I'd always envisioned a dirt floor, like in pictures I'd seen of homesteader cabins on Earth. On the right side, just inside the door, was a table large enough for four people to eat at.

Right now it was pushed into the corner, with only two chairs, so that when the weather was nice one could open up the shutters on both sides to get a cross breeze. There was no glass in the windows, they were either open to the elements or shuttered. On the left side were the other two chairs. Between them was another, smaller table, where Emily's almanac sat along with a couple of other books. Both of the whale oil lamps sat on that table.

The potbellied stove was most of the way to the back of the cabin, centered on the room. It was larger than I expected it to be, not really a "pot belly" shape like I was expecting. It was more of a rectangular shape, with a flat top for cooking. You could fit both of the cast-iron pots, or one pot and one skillet, on top of it. It was three feet wide, and almost as deep, and was a dark black color.

The stove sat on top of what appeared to be slate stone that had been inset into the floor so it wasn't a tripping hazard. Sitting on the slate to the right was a tin pail that contained more coal. To the left was a stand with a fire poker, as well as a small shovel to scoop in a few pieces of coal at a time. The chimney was also tin, and it vented onto the roof. A quick glance up showed the area around the chimney was also slate, no doubt to prevent fires in case the chimney ever got too hot.

On the right side of the slate were wooden base cabinets with hardwood countertops. To the left was a wooden washbasin with a copper lining. There was even a small copper pipe in the bottom of the washbasin that led to a hole in the back wall to drain outside. There were upper cabinets above both sides of the basin. They looked as professional as if a good craftsman on Earth had put them in. I was thoroughly impressed. In the middle of the room, on the right side, was what I'd call a queen-sized bed.

It sat on a very large red and gold rug that looked like it must have cost a fortune. I'd like to know the story behind it one day. The bed had a sturdy, unadorned wooden frame. There was what appeared to be a straw-stuffed mattress with several blankets and pillows on the bed frame. There were two nightstands with doors on either side of the bed. There was also a clothes rack that held both Emily and Colin's spare clothes on it. Every spare space on the walls had hooks with various tools and implements.

Almost all the goods the family owned were there. My family had a log cabin of our own, but it was modern and larger than any of the houses on the farm. It was more of a luxury hunting lodge than a true "cabin", no matter what we called it. This room felt cozy and lived-in. All of my own experiences with a small log cabin were from museums or something like that. Those cabins looked old, they made it feel like everyone lived in squalor. Unfortunately, at the moment it didn't smell as cozy as it looked.

It smelled like wet wool and dirty men. The bunnies had happily hopped over to the slate and were lying down close to the stove, soaking in the warmth. Emily's nose wrinkled, and she looked at Colin and me with slight disgust.

"You two stink. You clearly worked hard, but I must insist you both go back out and wash up. Please hand me your jackets. John, I got your pants washed and dried today." She handed me my freshly washed clothes, then spoke again.

"Please take off your outer clothes." I gave off a deer in the headlights look of fear. She looked at me and shook her head as she saw my expression.

"I shall look away. I will go over to the stove and begin preparing dinner. One of you, please fill the water pail and put it in the washbasin once you are washed up." She handed me a bar of soap and walked to the back of the room. I looked at Colin, and he smirked at me.

"What?" I said.

"I'm just trying to make sure I keep things proper so no one says anything to the bishop." Colin chuckled and said, "You still have your long underwear on. You're not gonna get anyone in trouble. Our wool clothes stink. No one would expect we should dirty up the cabin with our unwashed selves." He said that last with a shake of his head and a look towards his mother. I assumed he'd had the, no coming in the house without washing up talk, more than once.

He grabbed the bucket sitting on the floor, and we both went outside in just our long underwear. The rain was coming down slightly harder now. Luckily, the Wizards had installed the well underneath the covered porch, most likely exactly for situations like this. We got as close to the edge as we could without getting rained on, and we stripped down to the waist to wash up. Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. It was nippy, to say the least. I heard Colin say, "Brr."

I laughed and said, "Brr indeed. But don't think this rain is getting you out of your bath in a couple of days." If scowls could harm, his would have dealt me a mighty blow. Colin went inside, and I got dressed outside. Once I was clothed again, I filled the pail and brought it inside for Emily. She had me put it in the empty pot on the stove to heat up. She'd use it to wash the dishes when we were done eating. After that, she asked me to refill it again for our drinking water.

When I got back, I put the pail in the washbasin. I looked over towards Colin, and I could see him working a small amount of some sort of gun oil on a piece of scratchy wool he had wrapped around his ramrod. The wool was filthy; it must be his regular rag for cleaning his barrel. It was important to keep a gun barrel clean. If you didn't, the barrel could foul. That could lead to the bullet either not coming out properly, or in extreme cases even causing things to blow up.

Black powder was a filthy propellant, so frequent cleaning was necessary.

"What's for dinner?" I asked, my stomach rumbling. Emily said.

"We will finish up the last of the bacon. I did not have time to make a new loaf of bread today, so I will make biscuits. I shall make bread again tomorrow. Eggs and fried kale as well."

"Works for me," I replied.

"When can we start eating the salted elk?"

"Well," she began.

"We have some smaller cuts on the top of each barrel. Two-pound steaks that we can eat in only a couple more weeks. The larger roasts will take at least a month. Of course we probably won't get to them until fall, so the curing time is not an issue." I nodded.

"Good to know. Will we pickle as much of the veggies as we can? And I assume we will want to make jam from the blackberries?" She simply nodded to me as she pulled the last of the bacon out of the top right cupboard.

"What about eggs? Do you preserve them too?" I was curious. I had never eaten lime-cured eggs before, but my grandmother said she had done it as a child in the 1940s. With modern refrigeration, I hadn't done a lot of preserving at all myself, but I was aware of the techniques used.

"I absolutely plan on it this year. We should really begin as early as late summer. But we need the lime and jugs, so it will be this fall. With all of the hens laying we should be fine," Emily said with a smile. She was clearly thinking of all the eggs she planned to eat this winter.

"Do the Newtons use butter to preserve theirs? Or do they still lime cure them?" I asked. I knew there were several different methods to preserve eggs. Emily nodded.

"They do, but it would be too expensive for us. Even if we had a cow, we do not have the skill to make butter last any longer than milk." What? You need a skill? That was something that bothered me about this game-like world. Why was a skill necessary to make butter or cheese last longer than milk? Maybe the System inhibited bacterial growth somehow? It did keep people healthier, but how would there be any benefit to needing a skill to make butter or cheese be more stable?

Instead of commenting on that, I jokingly said, "Too bad we don't have any enchanted ice boxes, or cabinets." Emily smiled ruefully, but didn't say anything. By this point, the much more pleasing aroma of cooking bacon had replaced the smell of sweaty bodies and wet clothes. I could hear popping and sizzling as the bacon fat cooked on the stove. My mom hadn't been big on "traditional" breakfast, but my grandma and grandpa cooked breakfast together almost every morning.

If you told them the night before that you would be there, then they set a plate for you. Their house wasn't the largest on the farm, but it had the largest dining room and the largest dinner table. Even at thirty-five, I had breakfast with them at least twice a week. It might just be the single thing I'd miss the most from my old life. I was brought out of my musings by Colin, as had happened several times over the last week.

"What?" I said.

"Sorry, my mind was off in the clouds." He shook his head at me and repeated himself.

"You should bring your gun inside and oil it."

"I only shot it once though," I told him.

"Yeah, but the gun is prone to a little rusting in wet weather until it's been oiled enough times."

"Oh. Thanks. That's good to know," I replied. Colin nodded at me and finished wiping his own gun down. He was meticulous with his gun care. A habit I'd be wise to copy. A few minutes later, Emily said dinner was ready. I hopped up and grabbed the plates she was getting from the cupboard so I could help set the table. She thanked me and then dished out food. Once we'd sat down and begun eating, Emily asked about the plans for the next couple of weeks.

"Do you still plan on digging your ditch with this rain? We will get an inch, at least, with the strength of this storm."

"Yeah," I said.

"I still need to get that done. But you're right. It doesn't need to be a priority for a week or two. My water bonus, and this amount of rain will mean at least two weeks before I need to water the potatoes again. Lumber seems to be the bigger priority."

"Don't forget your militia duty," Colin said, pointing towards his rifle. I nodded.

"What can I expect with that this time? It's only two days. Right?" While Emily was no doubt also knowledgeable on the subject, this was another one of Colin's passions, so he responded quickly.

"This is the second one of the year. The first is when the army comes through in late winter. Since you're new you'll need to get signed up on Friday night. They'll give you your ammo then. You can sleep in the barracks building both nights if you want to since you're from far enough away you can't easily walk home. But you could sleep in the inn on Gwynner if you want to."

"What will I actually do though? March and shoot?" I asked him.

"This one will probably just mostly be shooting. Everyone will be getting ready to plant corn, they won't want to be too tired out. The two week one after harvest is the big one," Colin answered. A slight hint of derision in his voice. He clearly thought the men should be able to handle the marching. I just smiled. Ah, youth.

"If you get your combat class will you be in the militia too?" I was genuinely curious about this one. He looked down and kicked at the floor before answering.

"Not necessarily. Only those who have a homestead, or whose parents have one. I should get the Homesteader class. But there's no way the bishop lets them give me a combat class." Emily broke in for the first time.

"Remember. The priest will be there, not the bishop, and the System Stone will be issuing your initial classes. Your father was a Homesteader, others whose fathers have died still got their combat class." This was the first time I'd heard that term. I'd wondered how they assigned the first classes. Aside from knowing you were supposed to go to the temple and do something, I knew nothing about the process. I'd been so busy with other things I had forgotten to look it up in the almanac.

This was all a touchy subject, so I changed it.

"Once the rain stops we'll go cut the rest of the timber and build my cabin. Then we're going to cut more timber into boards and build some shelter for the animals. Probably not a true barn, but a lean-to at least." Emily thought this was a wise decision. We spent the next couple of hours making plans and tweaking them as we planned out the next month or two of work on the farm. It was a fun evening. I was sad to trudge back to my tractor after it grew late enough that we were all ready for bed.

——————————————— There was some grumbling among the nobility about the cost of the construction of the cabins for the Grand Quest: Western Territory Homestead Project. Many declared it unnecessary to provide such large, and well-appointed cabins. There was also "unofficial," grumbling about the sheer number of levels achieved by the craftsmen for building so many cabins, and for the cabinets and beds put into them.

Only those who were a part of the official quest and who had signed contracts to remain in the Territories for at least ten years, were given the right to do the building. This was something that could not be avoided, though. In order to start this Grand Quest, Emperor Harold II was required to follow certain rules that Arturos and Merlotus had established themselves. Harold had very little leeway in changing the various sub-quests available in a Grand Quest.

Merlotus had established the script for the Grand Quests himself, and he had established the guidelines for triggering one. No one else had ever figured out how to modify, or trigger a Grand Quest on their own. Excerpt from The History of the Grand Quest: The Western Territory Homestead Project of the Royal Research Academy, (multiple authors). This book is not available in full at the Albion Trade Guild Store.