Chương 78: 77: Time for a Trip to Town

First week of Ionwr The next few days were less tense on the homestead. Emily was an emotionally strong woman. Her desire to keep her son safe made sense, but once she'd accepted he was going to join the army once this issue with the goblins was resolved, she did her best to accept the situation and move on. Her resilience was something I admired and tried my best to emulate. I liked to think I'd adapted pretty well to this new world, but this winter was putting the truth of that to the test.

For the previous eight months, I'd been so busy that I hadn't had time to reflect on what I'd lost. I was also angry with my family, so the change of scenery was mostly positive. I'd been forced to take things one day at a time since something always needed to be done. But with twenty soldiers on the place happily doing chores for extra pay, and during the winter when there was already less to do. I was free to spend too much time in my head. I was sure my family missed me, and I missed them now too.

My new family filled a big chunk of that hole, but not all of it. The worst part was I felt bad mentioning my feelings, even to Emily, because she and just about every homesteader in the Western Territories had basically made the same choice when they left the home isles. She hadn't spoken to her family since she came here. There had been a couple of letters in the first year, but nothing since.

The physical distance in a pre-modern world was just too far to overcome to hope to maintain a relationship with those you left behind if you weren't wealthy. The cold weather and overcast skies that dominated the sky the last few days hadn't helped my mood either. At least thanks to the open land and the breeze coming in off the mountains, we didn't have inversion conditions. That was awful back home.

The Treasure Valley was surrounded by mountains on all sides, so it could get a weather condition that would cause hazy skies, and you could go weeks without seeing the sun in the winter. That definitely led to a few cases of SADD in the area. Shortly after I made my weekly check on my tractor to start it up and redo my seals, Emily decided she'd had enough of my moping around. She told me it was time to make a trip into town to see about the oil and the war.

Woolsy, who was obviously a member of the Order of Merlotus, as was Emily now, though she wasn't also a System Knight, wasn't privy to too much more information on things than I was, so he didn't have any updates for us. The bishop was the highest-ranking member of the order in the Western Territories, so he could get information from the emperor himself. But he didn't always share it down to the rest of us.

I hadn't seen him in person since we came back out here the day after the siege, but Woolsy who had been back to town every other week, said he was usually in a foul mood thanks to being trapped in the little "backwater hellhole" that was Weston. He could have escaped if he really wanted to, but it was far too dangerous and muddy to do it in his coach. He didn't want to use a riverboat and leave the coach behind.

Even if he was a bit of a pompous ass, he didn't want to tie up Wizards and soldiers to ensure his coach made it back to the capital safely. Even the boat ride would take up more soldiers than he was willing to take from the defenses right now. The trip there would take over three days by riverboat, and it was closer to five on the way back since the boat had to fight the current. The goblins weren't keeping a constant watch on river traffic, but they had sporadically sunk boats over the last two months.

At this point, river traffic was almost nonexistent if it wasn't necessary, and if they did make the trip, it had to be armed to the gills. That's why the oil still hadn't been brought over despite now sitting in a warehouse in the territories. Any escort large enough to ensure it was safe would lead to questions being asked about the cargo. My tractor was a tenuous secret, and we didn't need to leave clues behind for anyone snooping.

After Emily asked him, Woolsy agreed to take us with him on his next trip into town in a couple of days. After that, I was determined to be as cheerful as possible so I wouldn't worry Emily. Those days went by in a blur, and the morning of the 8th dawned with me sitting on Chessie, wearing only Talamh-made clothing. No Carhart jacket for this trip, even if it was super warm. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

I had my rifle, Bowie knife, and my newest toy, a. 44 caliber cap and ball Harold Revolver. The guns were ridiculously expensive, but the mayor gave me his for saving the town. The revolver used paper cartridges and had a cool plunger lever that sat just below the barrel. The bullet loaded from the far side of the chamber, unlike a modern-day revolver where the bullet was one self-contained piece.

You pulled the plunger down, then when you pulled it towards the cylinder, it would push a rod back into the cylinder and seat the cartridge. Then you placed the percussion cap in a divot on the back side of the cylinder. The gun was a single-action, so there wasn't a safety. That made riding around with the caps in place a dangerous idea. Many officers just left a round in the chamber blank, then left the empty spot in the firing position. That enabled them to keep ready at the loss of a round.

I decided I'd do the same if I was potentially in danger, but otherwise I just left all the caps off the cylinder as I walked around. Once again, thanks to the black powder, it didn't kick very much. My dad had a. 357 magnum Dirty Harry style pistol that looked ridiculous, and that thing would just about break your wrist if you were actually firing. 357 shells Unless my dad was out hunting big game and there was a chance of bears or cougars, he normally just shot.

38 rounds out of it since they fit the gun and weren't such a pain in the wrist to shoot. Unlike my rifle, I'd never shot a black powder pistol before this. I didn't even like shooting revolvers. I didn't carry a pistol around regularly, like my dad, who I swear hoped that one day he would be in a shootout. He carried a gun in an underarm holster, then kept one in his pickup, and in just about every room in his house. We lived in rural Idaho.

We rarely even locked our car doors, so I don't know what situation he thought might occur to need to be so heavily armed, but he was ready if one did arise. The only pistol I had was a 9mm Witness that I liked because it had full safety features. As a boy, my brother had shot a hole in the floor of a pickup we were both sitting in when he'd put a single-action revolver into its holster at his hip and the hammer caught on his shirt. The bullet grazed his calf, but he was lucky it hadn't killed him.

After that, I'd stayed away from any gun that didn't have a manual safety. I finally broke out of my musings when Emily grabbed my reins and said, "Dear, you're being asked a question. You know, you really are prone to mentally wandering off." I looked over at her sheepishly.

"Sorry, I was just thinking about the time my brother almost killed himself with a gun like this." She frowned and said, "That is rather morbid. I am not sure why that brought a smile to your face." I laughed and said, "No it wasn't very funny. But he was fine afterwards." I gave her a quick rundown of what had happened to my brother.

"I see," she said, with mild concern on her face, probably at my finding the story humorous. She was all bundled up with a brown, multiple layer divided skirt riding dress, stockings and her calf-high riding boots, gloves which went to her elbows, and a fur-lined bonnet that covered her head and cheeks.

"But sorry I got sidetracked. You asked me a question?" I asked her. She shook her head, "No Lieutenant Woolsy did."

"Oh, sorry," I said. I looked over at the man who looked like my story about my brother had amused him. Since we were outside, he had his pipe lit and was puffing away. I looked at it enviously. I wasn't worried about my sperm count in this world, and as far as I was aware, no one in this world got cancer once they were above level 20. Woolsy's tobacco smelled amazing. Whatever blend he used had an almost vanilla-like scent to it. Surely Emily would eventually be okay if I got a pipe and never smoked inside?

Woolsy saw me staring at his pipe and his small smile grew into a much bigger grin. He'd been around for a few of my conversations with Emily about smoking a pipe. He finally put me out of my misery and said, "Yes, do you have everything you need for the trip? We shall be staying two nights. We will be bringing more supplies back with us, but anything we need must be able to fit on one of our horses or the pack horses."

"We'll be fine," I said.

"We just want to meet with the bishop, then we'll spend tomorrow shopping and at the inn. That's where we'll stay both nights."

"Very well," he replied. The three of us, along with our escort of five more militiamen, also mounted, started the long, cold, and monotonous journey back towards Weston. I made small talk with Emily and Woolsy, but we didn't talk about anything of importance. For a while, I fell back and talked to the five militia members who formed our escort this trip. Sean Malley, a twenty-two year old dock hand who also wanted to stay and work on the homestead, was excited to see the young woman he was hoping to court.

Twenty-two was awfully old not to be married already, but his pre-arranged marriage had fallen through when she had died in an accident on the home islands shortly before their wedding. After that, he'd decided to come over with his parents when they got their homestead slot, and they hadn't had time to arrange anything before then. They had chosen a place on the eastern side of Weston, and Sean had made a good impression with Priest Lewys, who thought he'd be a good candidate to bring into the know.

He didn't have a family of his own yet, and he was a hard worker. If the bishop and Lewys agreed to let him join me, I'd be happy to take him in. The other four men all had places of their own that had sustained damage as the goblins fled east. They had been chosen by the Emperor himself since their families had already been a part of the Order before the homestead part of the grand quest opened up.

They'd all rather be back at their own places, but the bishop had promised them aid if they came and protected me and my tractor. The whole conspiracy where it felt like forty percent of the population was actively in the know felt strange. Secret orders were supposed to be small and quiet. But instead, the emperor had used the grand quest as an opportunity to get as many of his own people away from the home isles as possible.

He was trying his best to create a force that would eventually be powerful enough to challenge the noble hegemony over the System, and Weston would be its gathering point. That seemed like a great endeavor, although I would have preferred to have just stayed a simple homesteader. I chuckled, thinking about how my actions so far hadn't reflected my thoughts.