A Change in Plans
Copyright© 2006 by Asa Strong
Chapter 14: A Growing Family and Trouble is Brewing
Science Fantasy Story: Chapter 14: A Growing Family and Trouble is Brewing - George Rice, a dying, emotionally detached scientist who plans to stage his own accidental death after losing his wife and receiving a terminal cancer diagnosis. At the brink of suicide, he is intercepted by a higher being named Alama, who offers him a chance to “right a terrible wrong.” George accepts and dies—only to be reborn into another world and another body.
Caution: This Science Fantasy Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Ma/ft Consensual Romantic Science Fiction Isekai First
Unlike our trip to Bagor last year, this one had not gone nearly as well. However, it also proved to be much more interesting and quite dangerous. Rocha and I had returned a few days ago, and I was still worried about what we had found in the town. The trip to Rocha’s old farm was uneventful. We camped as usual in the small meadow behind Rocha’s old farm.
It was on the way to Bagor the next morning where we encountered our first problem. We were almost to the town when five men clad in leather armor appeared and stood in the middle of the road in front of us. They must have been hiding in the heavy brush alongside the roadway because we had no idea they were there.
The melee that followed was short and bloody. They made no verbal demands and immediately started towards us. The encounter could not have lasted thirty seconds. At the end there were three robbers dead, and one badly wounded before he had run for his life.
When the fight was over, my whole body shook. Everything had happened so quickly there was no time to become afraid. When I came down from the adrenaline rush, it hit me hard and I was shaking.
My first thoughts were of Rocha’s safety and I quickly climbed back up in the wagon. She was now about three months pregnant and I was afraid that she might have been injured. To my great relief, she seemed OK, but like me, was showing the same symptoms I had. She was a quivering mess, and I held her until she calmed down.
As I sat on the wagon seat, I thanked the God’s in the universe that I had spent the time last summer learning how to make crossbows, a few steel swords, and very large knives. The knives were similar to what George had known as a Bowie knife. The women were much more adept at handling the lighter weapons. The production of the knives had been a direct result of the women’s inability to handle the heavy swords.
Hoping for a safe trip, but expecting the worse, we had each cocked and loaded our crossbows and kept them close to us in case we were attacked. When the five men stepped onto the road brandishing swords, we had not waited to see what they wanted.
It was obvious that they were thieves, and both Rocha and I shot the leading two men. Both went down hard and did not move. I jumped out of the wagon and had time to unsheathe my sword and meet the leading thief. His short sword was no match for the hardened steel sword I carried, and it shattered when it met my blade.
This had given Rocha enough time to load a second bolt into her crossbow. She fired and hit one of the thieves in the shoulder. By this time, I had reversed my earlier stroke with the sword and caught the thief in the neck. He went down immediately. The wounded thief, along with the one who had not had time to engage, ran back into the woods.
When the relative quiet returned, my first thought was for Rocha’s safety. I climbed back into the wagon to find her shaking like I was but physically safe. We held each other and were very thankful that neither of us had been injured.
After we settled ourselves down, I got out of the wagon and calmed the horses. The noise and now the smell of blood had upset them, and they were starting to pull at the traces.
When the horses were finally quieted, Rocha backed the wagon down the road a ways, and I went to check on the men lying in the roadway.
With sword in hand, I checked to make sure they would no longer be able to cause us harm. When I reached the first thief, the one I had slashed with my sword, the ground around him was saturated with blood, and his head was almost severed from his body. My stomach lurched at the sight, and I could not help but void the contents of my stomach.
After I got myself under control, I checked the other two men. They were both dead. Their heavy leather armor had been no match for the steel arrowheads and the force of the bolts at such a close distance. I pulled the bolts from the two bodies and moved them to the side of the road. I handed Rocha the two bolts I had retrieved, and we continued our trip to town.
The town was only about two miles, which gave Rocha and me enough time to really settle our nerves. We also decided it might be a good idea not to mention the crossbows and, once in sight of town, hid them and the extra bolts in the wagon. We just didn’t know if we could trust anyone.
The previous summer had been good for my family. We had planted about thirty acres in wheat the previous year, along with about half that in barley and oats. The weather cooperated, and harvest time was busy. We spent every available moment we had gathering the grain.
Even Kata and Celle, who had delivered my two sons and a daughter, took part in the harvest as much as possible. In the fall, I managed to construct a simple water-driven mill. The waterwheel drove the millstones we had bought on our previous trip to Bagor. That winter, I milled much more flour than we could ever use. Fortunately, we had brought a lot of cloth from Rocha’s farm when we left and had enough material to make sixty-five sacks. Each held about eighty pounds of flour. We took fifty bags with us to trade.
I had also manufactured a number of steel tools: heads for axes, hammers, adzes, and other common implements. I had debated making steel swords and knives but decided that it would be better to wait. They were much more difficult to make and, in the long run, would probably not be as profitable.
When we reached the town and were admitted entrance, I noticed right away that most people looked gaunt, and they had that hungry look upon their faces that said they weren’t eating regularly.
When we reached the inn that we had stayed at on our previous trips, we were met by a crowd of people. Evidently, word had traveled ahead of us, and there were many people wanting to obtain what we had for trade. The sheriff was also there, along with six or seven other men who were armed. This turned out to be to our benefit as the crowd started to press forward, and chaos was about to erupt.
The sheriff and his men quickly took charge of the situation and dispersed the crowd. The sheriff detailed four of his men to guard our wagon and asked that we speak privately.
We sat down at a table in the inn, and the sheriff explained that due to the large number of people who had come to the town for refuge and the limited amount of food available, he, along with several other prominent members of the town, had formed a government that was essentially administered by martial law. The long and short of the situation was that they would confiscate our foodstuffs without paying for it.
At first, my reaction was one of outrage. We had worked hard to plant and harvest the crops, make the sacks, and grind the wheat. It irked me that it would now be taken away from us. Once I settled down and could think coherently, I realized the town folks really didn’t have much choice. Even with what we had brought with us, it would be a tight squeeze to make it through the coming winter. Having no real choice, I finally agreed, but was already thinking of ways that I could turn the situation not only to my advantage but also to help with the situation here in town.
We arranged for rooms at the inn and for our horses to be fed and cared for at the inn’s stables. The sheriff had the wagon unloaded and the flour transferred to a secure location. I took the tools I was going to trade into the inn with us.
After supper, Rocha and I talked long into the night about the situation we found ourselves in. We really could not blame the townspeople. They were just trying to survive an untenable situation. We finally went to bed without any answers to our questions.
In the middle of the night, I awoke with a radical thought. I had no idea where it came from, but it might solve many different problems at once. After thinking about it, then considering a number of options, I was able to firm up a final solution. I lay back down and went back to sleep, satisfied that I might have found a way to make it work.
The next morning, before breakfast, I went directly to the sheriff’s building. I asked him to arrange a meeting of the town council, as I might have a plan that would be of benefit to the whole town. He was inquisitive about my plans, but I refused to say anything more until the whole council was present. He agreed to set up a meeting later that morning.
Over breakfast, Rocha and I discussed what I wanted to do. After discussing it for a while, she felt that it might work. We were just finishing breakfast when the sheriff arrived and said the entire council was present and eager to hear my plan.