Chapter 11: Isekai Life & Morning Problems

“Oh, what the hell, Voss!”

I was woken up by Calliope’s shout. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and yawned.

“I, uh, I must have fallen asleep ... We needed the rest anyway, right?”

“That’s no excuse!”

I crawled out of the tent and got uneasily to my feet.

Voss was standing at attention, while a furious Calliope jabbed him in the chest with a pointed finger. Even Yua was giving him cut-eye from where she sat over a small fire, boiling porridge.

“Whether we needed rest or not is immaterial! You agreed to take first watch, and if you were too tired to see it through, you should have told somebody!”

“Well, I though that I-”

“It’s not his fault,” I interjected, “I didn’t realize it at first, but this grove is enchanted. Use your magic to see for yourself, if you can.”

I didn’t think she would be able to- we had armed ourselves for battle, so to speak, just yesterday afternoon, and hadn’t had any opportunity to use our magic since. Instead, she eyed the trees suspiciously and asked, “How do you know?”

“They are dryads,” I replied, “I, uh, they talked to me.”

Voss stared at me, eye goggling. “So that was ... they’re real!?”

Calliope crossed her arms and fixed me with a glare. “And what did they say?”

“I, uh...” I swallowed, my throat dry. It occurred to me that Calliope never wanted to fight goblins in the first place, and if I pointed out that the dryads seemed to think that the goblins weren’t the true threat, she might insist that we abandon our course and leave the goblins for later.

But to defeat the true threat, we would need help. A base of operations, where we can rest. Allies to help us. New party members, too, as we were really feeling the loss of Ashryn’s healing magic. And the fastest way to do that seemed to be helping Rhymer’s Cross (if it still stood), defeating the goblins and winning over the folk of the Lakelands.

Also, I wasn’t eager to bring up what I had done with the dryads ... or what Voss had done, for that matter. It really wasn’t anyone’s business what he had done with whom.

“They said we would be safe, and that they would protect us from goblins,” I ended up saying, “And that they were also worried about the goblins showing up to burn down their grove.”

It wasn’t a lie, just not the whole truth. That’s okay, right?

Calliope still gave me a skeptical look. I could tell just from her expression that she didn’t buy it ... but at least she didn’t question me further. “Dryads or no dryads, we need to be posting watches while we camp in the wild,” she said with finality, then whirled and stabbed Voss with a finger again, “And don’t think you’re off the hook. A knight needs to have discipline, and you’re going to start acting like a knight even if I have to whip the discipline into you myself.”

I idly wondered if Voss would mind that. All the big man did was glumly nod, promise to do better, then walked off muttering something about the horses.

Calliope then turned back to me.

“I don’t know what secrets you’re keeping, but I can tell you’re keeping them,” she said, crossly, “You shouldn’t cover for him. He’s a brave fighter, to be sure, but...”

I bristled at that. “He’s sworn into my service, and he gave his life for our cause,” I said angrily, but keeping by voice low, “I think you owe him more respect than that.”

Calliope gave me a searching look. “All I’m saying is that you both need to remember who the prince is and who the knight is,” she replied in a restrained way, “You’re liege and vassal, not friends. You shouldn’t be conspiring like schoolboys.”

She turned on her heel and went to pack up our tent.

I could only sigh, and head over to Yua for breakfast.

The dragonborn girl handed me a bowl of porridge and raisins. I thanked her in her own language, and took a seat on a nearby fallen log to eat.

“The spear warrior should be ashamed he fell asleep on watch,” Yua said quietly, “He should have offered his life to his lord in repentance, and allowed his lord to show magnanimity by giving the warrior mercy.”

I blinked. I haven’t heard Yua talk so much since that day in thee bedroom where she did that ... fealty ritual or whatever she did when she realized I was royalty. And it was my first time hearing her speak so much while I was understanding her.

I point to where Voss was hitching Custard up to the wagon. “Voss.”

Yua followed my pointing hand with her eyes, and nodded. “Voss,” she repeated.

I then pointed at our other companion. “Calliope.”

“Calliope.”

I lifted up a spoonful of porridge and let it splat back into the bowl. “Porridge.”

“Porridge,” she said with a nod, then, in her native tongue, “Breakfast.”

What could I do but smile and repeat it back to her. I was beginning to realize how difficult a process this might be. I could understand her perfectly, but that also meant I had to play along when she made that kind of mistake, thinking I was referring to the meal in general rather than the specific food.

This was going to be a long and frustrating process.

Soon enough, everyone was fed, the horses were prepared, and the fire was carefully stamped out. We did what we could to hide the signs of our passage- I didn’t want to accidentally lead goblins right to the nice, pretty dryads that were willing to trade safety for sex.

Our day’s travel was peaceful and surprisingly ordinary, compared with the stresses that we were under coming north. There were signs of the goblins, to be sure- tracks, crude campsites, skulls left on sticks to bleach by the roadside. But we weren’t being chased, and we had all day to travel. We were not out of danger, but the pressure was off and we were well rested.

I ended up doubly thankful for the dryads and our mysterious archer friend when we finally got to Rhymer’s Cross. As it turned out, our estimates were off- we only got to the beginning of farmland around the town by the time we would normally be looking for a place to camp, and decided to push until we managed to make it. By the time we finally saw the walls, it was twilight, and close to midnight when we finally were close enough to hammer at the gates.

The town itself was not large, as towns go, but larger than we had come to expect in the Lakelands- about halfway between Pendleton and Osgoode Gate. It was surrounded by a twenty foot tall wooden palisade, but one made of lumber and not just rough logs- the wall had been there for awhile. We couldn’t see the bridge that gave the town it’s name from where we were standing, but in the quiet of night we could certainly hear the river, somewhere off in the darkness.