Eventually, the bard walked in. How did I know she was the bard? Simple. I’d been in Blackwood long enough to know everyone by sight if not name, and no one in the village dressed like they were part of a mariachi band.
She wore a bright-coloured vest and trousers with a blouse that was 80% frills. The bizarre outfit was offset by the most striking blue eyes I had ever seen and hair the colour of charcoal, a black so black it seemed to absorb light. She was not sexy or beautiful, but there was a striking power to her features that stopped her from being unattractive.
She had that sort of face you wouldn’t forget, which was probably due to her class rather than some fluke of genetics. She saw me watching her and smiled. I’d had a friend in high school whose father was a used car salesman and her smile reminded me of him.
Bard Malia
Before she could start talking, I cut to the point. “Malia, I’d like to buy your instrument,” I said, pointing to the guitar.
Her smile vanished. “It’s not for sale.” Her voice had a slight husky roll with a sexy as hell undertone.
I nodded, having figured as much. “Then, I would like to hire and play it for an hour and I would like to know where you purchased it.”
She scowled and walked towards her instrument. “You have no idea what you are asking of me, sir.”
“I do,” I said before taking a sip of ale. “And false anger isn’t going to get you anywhere. How much?”
She paused and turned back to me. “Ten coppers for the information and to hire it for an hour.”
“That’s ridiculous,” I said as I pulled out my purse and counted out the coins and then handed them over.
She swallowed as she approached and took the money, counting out the coins. “You’re not going to haggle?”
I shook my head, stepping past her to head for the guitar. “I’ve been waiting long enough to realise my request is rude, so paying a price that hurts is only fair.” I picked up the instrument feeling the familiar weight and ran my fingers along the strings. The sound that came from it was all wrong. The strings were tuned to different keys. I glanced at the bard. “Is it okay if I retune this to what I’m used to?”
She was still staring at the money in her hand. She slowly looked at me. “What?”
“Is it okay if I retune this?”
“It’s your hour.” She took a step to the side, pulled out a chair, and sat, staring at the money. “If you break anything you’re paying for the replacement along with any lost revenue.”
“Deal.”
It took me a few minutes to retune the guitar and then I gave it a strum. Perfect musical notes greeted me.
Well done, you have successfully tuned Malia’s guitar to a perfect standard and gained a new tool proficiency. You can now boast that you can use a guitar as well as any Novice.
Malia raised an eyebrow. “How did you gain a new rank just by strumming it?”
Glowing, I grinned. “An ale says I gain another rank before my hour is up.”
She frowned and then shook her head. “No bet.”
I ran through a couple of basic exercises to remind my fingers what they needed to do. It had been months since I played, and it hadn’t been in this body.
Once everything was right, I looked at the bard, met her lovely blue gaze, gave her a wink, closed my eyes, and played “Sweet Child O’ Mine,” singing along.
It wasn’t nearly as cool as it sounds. I’ve been told I sing like a kicked goat.
I lost myself in the music. Seeing the guitar was like seeing my family. Only it was here. It was a piece of home I’d forgotten I had with me. Playing, I could forget where I was, pretend I was home even if it was only for a little while.
When the song finished, light enveloped me.
Well done, you have successfully played an original composition with Malia’s guitar and gained a new rank of proficiency with guitars. You can now boast that you can use a guitar as well as any Initiate.
I dismissed the prompt and moved onto another song and then another. A memory of life, love, and joy came with each song. I was lost in my own world. I barely noticed when I gained the apprentice rank. But all too soon, Malia was clearing her throat, and my hour was over.
I opened my eyes to see her sitting in the chair closest to the stage. She had her feet up on another chair and was watching me with a saucy smile on her lips. “I’ll give you another two hours if you teach me how to play that third song.”
Chapter Ten
TESTING, EXPERIMENTATION, AND MAYHEM
A wolf’s low growl came from just beyond the shutters. The worn oak spear shaft sat comfortably in my grip as I waited, crouching beside the window. Only a few feet separated predator and prey. I was close enough to hear the wolf inhale, before it sniffed, tasting the air.
My heart hammered. Excitement was overriding fear.
The chickens in the coop clucked nervously, sensing danger nearby. The survivors of the quilled fox incident were probably having PTSD flashbacks. A second low, hungry growl answered the first and then a third. The pack leader moved away from the window towards the coop, appetite outweighing caution.
I heard a chicken die, as something went crunch, and a cluck cut off. The sound was quickly followed by chaotic squawking as the survivors went berserk, realising their senses weren’t lying and that they were in danger.
Using their noise to cover my actions, I slid the shutter open a few inches. In the moonlight, I could make out one of the wolves as it began to eat. It was roughly the size of a German Shepherd, small for a wolf, but big enough to be dangerous. Another wolf growled to my right. More sounds of death followed.
I glanced down at Salem expecting the signal, tightening my grip.
He shook his head.
This new method of attracting monsters had brought a pack of six wolves to our door in only three days. That was much faster than the fox. And I didn’t want to lose them. I’d read that the village’s aura made weaker monsters like wolves more likely to run than fight; a farm dog was usually enough to scare them off. They wouldn’t stay unless they absolutely had to.
If my plan worked, we were going to give them that reason.
Another minute went by. The wolves pawed at the chicken coop, trying to fit more than just their heads inside. They couldn’t. That didn’t stop the chickens from throwing a fit, slamming their bodies at the back wall hard enough for the noise to spook the wolves.
Eventually, a few of the wolves gave up and went searching for easier prey. A moment later, they found my bait, metal scraped against metal and the wolves went ballistic, growling and barking.
A fierce grin spread across my face. That sound was like cashing a cheque and watching your bank balance increase. The first of my two steel cages had worked, trapping a wolf inside. The others began pawing at the metal trying to free it.
Now we had to see if the second cage would work too.
I only had to wait another few minutes for some of the hungrier wolves to get bored of trying to free the one trapped in the cage and return to searching for food.
The second cage triggered and metal scraped against metal, causing the already agitated wolves to frenzy.
“Now you can bait them,” Salem said.
“You think?” I replied sarcastically, leaving the room for the front door.
I removed the lantern’s hood as I crept through the house, silently wishing I could afford to buy those glowing crystals Jeric had in his manor. The light the lantern supplied flickered sporadically, casting shadows across the walls.
I opened the front door, gingerly stepped across the corner of the trapdoor right outside, and then walked a few paces along the veranda towards the chicken coop. The lamplight slid forward until it hit the chicken coop and the edge of the two cages.
A single wolf stood trapped inside each cage, hackles up and mouth foaming with agitation. They stared at their free companions, whining from behind bars. Blood dripped from the free wolves’ mouths, showin
g they had tried to pull apart the steel cage with their teeth when digging under it failed. As one, all six turned to me. Their eyes glowed, reflecting the lantern light. The largest wolf looked at the two trapped in the cages and came to a decision. Protect the pack.
It charged me.
The others followed.
Adrenaline spiked as I turned and ran to the front door, diving inside. I put the spear against the wall and grabbed the door and lever, waiting. Their paws scraped along the veranda as they ran. A thin film of sweat covered me as the distance between us shrank.
I held my ground until they were only a few feet away and then slammed the door shut in their faces. A body struck the door, shaking the frame. The wolves howled, their first truly loud cry, as they tried to force their way inside, clawing at the door.
I pulled the lever. There was a brief moment of resistance as my strength fought against the pin holding the trapdoor closed, and then the lever dropped. I heard wood strike wood, a single yelp, and then barking mixed with whines.
Success.
Another grin spread between my cheeks as I picked up my spear and headed to the bedroom closest to the barn. This was too easy. They were nothing but stupid animals.
Inside the room, I threw open the shutters and climbed outside, silently making my way to the front of the house. I had my spear in front of me as I stepped around the corner, searching for the wolves.
This wasn’t supposed to be a fight. This was supposed to be a slaughter. If everything went to plan, I shouldn’t even break a proper sweat.
“Here, doggy doggy doggy, come get your manwich. I’m nice and juicy.”
The closest of the three remaining wolves turned, following my voice. I had half a second to realise I was looking at the largest one and then it leapt in my direction.
I turned and ran down the side of the house, past the open window, heading for the backdoor where my other trapdoor waited. My feet skidded around the corner as I raced for the door. The wolf's heavy panting and deep growl got closer and closer as its faster legs shortened the distance between us. Excitement turned to fear as the gap shrank to almost nothing within a few feet of the backdoor.
“Shit!”
Without slowing, I shoved the lantern into my spear hand, juggling the cumbersome items as I flung open the backdoor. The door bounced off the wall, as I grabbed the doorframe to arrest the last of my momentum and pull myself inside.
The wolf leapt at me as my body changed directions. Its teeth nipped the edge of my shirt, just missing my back, as it landed on the trapdoor.
My right foot landed on the threshold as the veranda under my left foot collapsed. The trapdoor had triggered, slamming against the pit wall above the spikes. The wolf and I began to fall.
My heart rate climbed as my hand holding the doorframe caught my weight, slowing my decent. My grip wasn’t right for the angle of my body and it immediately began to slip. I tried grip the doorframe harder, panicking, but only succeeded in flailing wildly and accidentally slamming the spearhead into the floorboards just inside the entrance. There was half a second of alarm as the spear and floorboards decided whether or not it was going to hold and then I stopped moving.
For another half a second, I just hung there, halfway inside, halfway out, leaning back over an open trapdoor filled with spikes. Then I pulled myself inside.
I took a shaky breath, trying to stop myself from freaking out over what had almost happened.
I turned to see the trapdoor open, pit exposed. The wolf that was now whimpering in the bottom of the pit was huge—easily three times the size of the one I’d watched eat the chicken. It had to weigh more than I did. It lay impaled on two-foot-tall wooden spikes, dying slowly.
“You came to the wrong farm, dog,” I said, trying not to laugh at my bad joke, as the chemical rush of having survived by a complete fluke threatened to leave me hysterical.
I hadn’t trusted my trapdoors. It was validating and terrifying to know that my instincts were correct. A large part of me wanted to get a stiff drink and slap myself for not coming up with something better sooner. I’d only walked across the trapdoors a handful of times, but any of those times clearly could have ended with death. I hadn’t even been putting all my weight on the trapdoor when it had triggered. That meant it didn’t take our full combined weight to cause it to malfunction and drop without anyone pulling the lever.
If I had ever carried something heavy across…
Well, now wasn’t the time think about that.
I closed the door.
“You left the window open,” Salem yelled.
I turned just as a wolf leapt out of the spare room, where we’d watched the chicken coop from, charging straight for Salem, only to run headfirst into the hallway wall as the cat had already moved. There was a loud thump as it collided with the wall.
Oops.
The wolf shook its head, trying to recover. Without hesitating, I grabbed my spear in both hands and charged, slamming the tip into the wolf’s side. The point slid between its ribs, going deep with the weight of my body behind it. Once it stopped penetrating, I gave it a sharp twist to do as much damage as possible. My time in the forest with Salem hadn't been wasted. A wolf was nothing compared to a puma.
The wolf groaned and its legs collapsed.
That was, of course, when the second wolf hit me. The lantern went flying. I lost the spear as teeth and claws tore into me. Shadow danced across my vision in the low light, making it impossible to follow the wolf’s quick movement.
Salem was the only reason the wolf didn’t immediately get my throat. He was there running interference, slamming his body into the side of the wolf’s head to distract and disorientate.
It still wasn’t enough.
You have taken 6 piercing damage.
You have taken 7 piercing damage.
The wolf got hold of my leg and pulled me from my feet, shaking me for everything it was worth. Muffled growls filled the hallway as it tried to hamstring me from the front. Sharp flashes of pain ran through my leg, screaming for a reaction, but I knew that the worst of the pain hadn’t even touched me yet. Running on adrenaline did that to you.
I yanked my belt knife free, turned and thrust the blade towards its face, only to have the point bounce along the bone of its skull.
Salem came in from above, leaping off the wall, diving down to slam into the back of the wolf’s neck. The distraction was enough to stop it shaking me. I went for another strike.
The spare room it had entered through suddenly exploded as something truly massive crashed through the window, sending splintered wood flying through the open door into the hallway.
The wolf and I both froze.
We stared at each other, unsure whose fault the explosion was.
The wolf sniffed, holding my leg between its teeth. Its eyes filled with panic, but it was too afraid of me to release my leg. A green, platter-sized palm with salami fingers shot out of the door to the spare room into the hallway and grabbed the wolf’s whole back end.
The wolf opened its jaw and turned, trying to bite.
Fuck me, that’s a big hand.
The thought flew through my brain as I rolled over and scrambled away, grabbing the lantern while clambering to my feet. Blood smeared my leg, and my trousers were ripped enough to see the damage beneath. It looked like I’d just added to my puma scars. Hopefully I would live long enough to see the results.
Salem leapt off the hallway walls using them like a floor and landed by the backdoor ahead of me. “You have a troll problem. Hurry up.”
I yanked my spear from the first wolf to use as support and shuffled down the hallway on my injured leg. I threw open the backdoor to escape, only to then remember that the trapdoor was down.
The wolf whimpered below as I stepped inside and grabbed the board I left against the wall in case I needed a bridge. I threw it across the gap.
Wood strained behind me as I stepped onto the board. I glanced back to see the t
en-foot-tall troll trying to squeeze itself into my hallway. It had a bloody wolf carcass in one hand and was attempting to pull itself forward with the other, trying to crawl its massive frame into the too-small hallway.
“Nope, nope, nope,” I said as I hurried to the other side of the board. Once there, I figured I was in the perfect position to slow the creature down. I planted my feet, lifted my spear, and threw, aiming for the centre of the creature. The spear flew fast, hitting the creature’s right pectoral.
The spear quivered, anchored in muscle, and the troll looked down.
“Congratulations, you took down 1% of its health,” Salem said. “Would you like to try again?”
“Fuck no.”
“Then get to the barn, idiot. It will run you down over open ground.”
I turned and hurried towards the barn, limping and cursing myself for throwing away my support. The sounds of tearing metal came from the direction of the chicken coop, as my health bar in the top left corner of my vision blinked.
“Oh, crap,” I said, wincing in pain, without slowing. “Tell me that’s not one of the caged wolves getting free.”
“It is not the wolf getting free,” Salem said.
Relief flooded me as I glanced towards the sound. What I had mistaken for a shadow behind the coop straightened, and a thirteen-foot-tall humanoid appeared above the top, limbs twice as thick as the specimen I was currently running away from. “Tell me that’s not a second bigger troll,” I said as we hurried to the barn.
“I can’t do that.”
The troll pulled the wolf from the cage and stuffed half of it in its mouth before I ran out of sight.
I charged inside the barn across the trapdoor and grabbed the jar of moonshine I kept on a shelf. I tore the seal off the jar and ran to the line of hay next to the trapdoor to pour the contents on top. Within a second, I had my lantern open and a wad of hay lit. I tossed the fire starter on the line of moonshine-soaked hay and then limped to the back of the barn where the levers that controlled my traps were located.
Oh Great! I was Reincarnated as a Farmer Page 12
