Hungry Necromancer - Chapter 95

We made out for it early once I was all done. The carriage was packed, Kaylin had been briefed and given all she needed to control Aren and the Elven North while we were away.

We also alerted the guards to our absence, just in case they get mischievous- I know they don’t feel right with a nobody looking person like me living here.

The only outstanding matter that needed to be resolved happened to be the visit we’ve been expecting from Audwin and the boys. Although, it’s nearly been a week since he left to relay the message the Matron gave him, I don’t think he’ll be making an appearance with the boys anytime soon.

Although, in preparation for the unexpected, Anselm wrote a rather long note for Mevir.

As we trotted away with Kaylin waving and screaming for souvenirs, I couldn’t help but get filled with anticipation once more. It’s been a while since we hustled off to a new place.

In my past life, I never really enjoyed travelling, though, I suppose that’s because the spots to travel to were heavily advertised and all the awe and joy of discovering a wonder is stripped when you’ve seen it countless times on a screen.

There was also the fact that I couldn’t exactly afford high-class travel, but even if I did, the procedures involved with traveling to new places was far too tiresome to get me excited or revved up with anticipation.

Here, everyone travelled with a carriage or wagon. And getting accommodation in new cities or new villages wasn’t really a hassle, in fact, most times, people were excited to see new faces.

I can understand why, it meant new buyers, new sellers, new people and just news in general. In this sort of medieval world, for the most part, people were happy to see each other.

It’s the same for me, I’ve found myself looking forward to not just the cultist I get to kill but the places I get to see and the people I get to meet. Traversing the land, learning new things about this place, this Kingdom, this world.

I truly feel like a tourist.

The journey to the village in-between Aste and Frozia took two days. In these two days a lot happened. A lot of new things happened.

For one, it’s a new experience having to watch out for pot holes hidden in the mud created by the merciless downpour from the heavens. I’m not always successful so most times we have to roll our sleeves and push.

It’s also a new experience having to camp out in the carriage all the time. I’ve got all the space to myself and the fur from Ioina is still there to keep me warm so I don’t catch a cold.

But it’s hard to sleep looking at the cloth flap that covers the back of the carriage, I keep wondering when someone will jump in and start shanking me.

Embarrassingly, I’ve got Anselm watching over me before I fall asleep. It’s not because I’m scared but according to him it’s because-

“Because you’ve been having black outs. You just stay there, still, not doing anything. I’ve had to grab the reins out of your death grip far too many times for it to just be you lost in thought.”

“You’re getting worse, Asher, this curse, whatever deal you made with Lotar, you got the short end of the stick. And you staring at that flap is just a premonition of what’s to come.”

“So, you do think someone’s going to jump it and shank me!”

“No! I mean your paranoia, it’s getting worse. The hunger, it’s doing a lot more damage than being an inconvenience. We have to get to Frozia fast.”

And that was two days ago. We arrived at the in between village late at night, when the moon is barely a crescent and the sky is full of clouds, prepping for another night of rainfall.

We would have arrived at Spol, the village, a lot sooner had I not…blacked out so many times. Anselm worries that the time between blackouts is increasing.

He said it started yesterday, the morning we left, but it wasn’t all that distinguishable from me stopping to think so he didn’t know anything was wrong. But now, I’m having black outs that last about half a minute or a whole minute.

Frankly, I don’t know how to take these facts, it’s a bit surreal learning that you’re out cold for a minute and you can’t even tell. I wonder if it’s really a result of my meddling with Lotar though, I mean, in my old world there are similar diseases, right?

I think there are, or there have been. I’m not sure. But I don’t have to be, not right now at least.

I’m tired, exhausted from the journey. Most of it was pushing the carriage, ironically. But I’d rather not focus on scary or depressing things like the deteriorating state of my mind.

There’s the future to look forward to after all. A future where I kill those Cultists and get rid of this hunger.

Speaking of which, “Let go get something to eat!” I grin widely at Anselm. He doesn’t share my enthusiasm but follows me into the village nonetheless.

The village of Spol is quite unlike any other village I’ve been to. A single reason for this is how civilized it looks. Instead of wooden houses and straw roofs, they’ve got cobble and zinc roofs.

Another thing that expresses how civilized this place would be the floor, it’s cobbled and interlocked rather than just sand, grass and dirt. There aren’t any farms either and there are far too little ranches. At least, compared to what I’ve seen.

I wonder how they make a living.

The square is silent, still, not a soul out or about. Wise too, wouldn’t want to stay out long in this cold either. The temperature is another interesting thing that happened as we travelled.

It dropped significantly, to the point where hail fell at times rather than just rain. The temperature is terrible low so I wouldn’t rightly expect anyone to be moving about this late at night either.

There are lights though, lights within the buildings and as Anselm and I walk through the square looking for a place that might be an inn, we get a peek into the lives of the residents of Spol.

Hot meals around the fire mostly, kids wrapped around in blankets and set closest to the burning fire.

“Over there.” Anselm points dead ahead to building with glass windows, bright light coming through them and the merry patrons who seem to be in a tussle.

“Yeah, I think that’ll work.”

The place is a tavern. Swinging door open and stepping in I’m immediately assaulted by the patrons yelling.

“Ay! What’s the deal letting the cold in!”

“Shut the door you fool!”

Shutting the door behind me I nearly squirm under their angry gazes. Throughout the tavern there are odd things.

A lack of chairs and tables. Or rather, a lack of heated chairs and tables. But that’s odd in and of itself. Heated tables in a medieval world?

Right Enchantments.

With a short cursory look, I can tell that the tables are paid for. There are the people who paid, sitting on it and those who didn’t gathering around and grumbling. All of them with jars of rum in their hands.

“Sorry about that guys.” I mutter.

“There aren’t any tables left.” A man at the counter table grumbles, wiping a glass with a rather filthy looking cloth.

A classic bartender.

“I’m not here for a table.” I start, though I feel like the entire place is in on my little conversation with the bartender, but that’s fine, it’s more of a general question anyway, “I’m looking for a place to set my horse and carriage, any sort like that here?”

“What are you, a traveller?” one of the paying drunks asks, his legs splayed wide over the floor he nearly trips the server, “How yous be traveling in such bad weather…and to such a bad place.”

That sounds grim.

I shiftily look to the bartender but he shrugs, “I don’t know if old Conny is still up, might want to wake him so he lets you in his barn. It’s on the other side of the village though.”

“Anselm?”

“Sure, just don’t make a mess.” He warns. Such little trust as of late.

With that he opens the door and leaves.

“Will you be buying anything? A drink?” The tender asks.

“Sure, it is freezing afterall. Do you have any meals?”

“Joaquin does, I’ll let her know.” He pours me a caramel liquid and passes the cup to me as I pass.

There aren’t any chairs at the counter so I’m forced to mingle.

Walking towards one of the many free unheated tables a familiar fat leg blocks my way.

“You never answered me, traveller.” The drunk from before says, “What are you doing so close to the cold? I bet you don’t even have to be here.”

Ah great. A forced companion.

“You want to know?” I grin.

He grunts mirroring my grin, “Is it interesting?”

“It sure is, take a seat then and I’ll tell you all about it.”

“Come, join me at my heated table, you seem like a right one.”

Oh…you have no idea.