Chapter 51: Freya's Call—A Timely Assist

As Freya and her master departed, Riverbend returned to tranquility, transforming once more into an unremarkable newly built village. Save for the kobold pups scurrying everywhere and the ever-increasing number of kobold blacksmiths, life settled into a familiar rhythm.

Like all new settlements, the villagers found themselves vexed by the immovable two-ton boulder blocking the road and lived in fear of even the smallest bouts of fever or chills. The night watch would, from time to time, raise a ruckus in the dead of night, pounding drums and gongs to frighten away prowling wolves and brown bears. The children who had once traipsed after Freya on her adventures were now confined to the camp, learning the imperial script and basic arithmetic from Olivia.

It was at this time that Leo realized with a jolt that he was illiterate. He could not read a single character of this world’s writing. Thus, in addition to his daily riding lessons with Urian, he was forced to join Olivia and Little Mouse in learning the imperial script and the courtly language, a torment he bore with great reluctance.

Only now did everyone discover that Little Mouse was actually well-versed in imperial history, language, and etiquette, even possessing a thorough knowledge of noble customs. Unfortunately, she was so shy and timid that she would only answer one question out of three, making her an unreliable teacher at best.

Leo tried to learn about her past, but any mention of it would leave Little Mouse pale with fright, shivering through the night. All he managed to glean was her real name: Gullveig, and that she had escaped from a northern slaver.

Time passed peacefully, and Riverbend changed by the day.

With the sawmill up and running, great quantities of timber were brought in daily, forming the frames of the villagers’ new wooden homes. The small rooms of the lord’s house were the first to be laid with thick planks, and Urian and his daughter moved in with Leo and Little Mouse, making a new home together.

Leo was assigned the room next to Olivia’s. Besides a large bed, it boasted a wardrobe and desk crafted by Valery. Seeing the thick furs piled on the spacious bed, Leo was moved to tears. He and Little Mouse leapt onto it, rolling about in delight.

After so much struggle, they finally had a real bed to sleep in!

Urian, the reluctant pioneer lord, was at last beginning to enjoy the privileges of his station.

Along the gravel path from the lord’s house to the camp kitchen, two rows of small wooden cabins had sprung up, forming a modest street. The number of little fishing boats ferrying iron ingots and grain had quietly grown. The shift from iron ore to pig iron had created surplus for trade, and many lifelong villagers—who had known only barter—now laid eyes for the first time on imperial coinage.

Beyond the essentials, the fishing boats occasionally brought in a craftsman or two from Isenport, folk unable to make a living there who sought new opportunities in Riverbend.

These newcomers were not rootless vagrants from the city, but local freemen introduced by the fishermen. Most were younger sons of free farmers or craftsmen, unable to inherit enough to live on, forced to seek their fortunes upon coming of age. As for taking in refugees, though plans had long been in the works, Urian and his peers hesitated, concerned for the stability of Riverbend.

The logistics of settling refugees and any resistance from the villagers were minor concerns; the real issue was that the refugees themselves were often unruly. If the wildmen of the hills were half bandit, then half the refugees could as well be called rogues or highwaymen. They lacked any noble sense of gratitude or attachment to their new home. For every ten refugees, perhaps half were true unfortunates with nowhere to go, while the rest were fugitives, spies from nearby gangs, or petty thieves with grand ambitions.

Erring on the side of caution, Urian refused to take in refugees, admitting only a few local freemen after careful consideration.

A few enterprising peddlers also dared to come with the fishing boats, bringing goods to trade for furs or herbs. The sixty or so miles between the western watchtower and Isenport were not all wilderness; there were villages long established, some with small docks for the fishing boats along the Anzeno River. But beyond the western watchtower lay lands outside the patrols of Lord Frelov’s men, and not every fisherman or merchant dared brave the thirty miles of wilds to reach Riverbend.

Meanwhile, Freya, traveling with her master, often called Leo when on the road. Never during the day—she played so wildly then that she forgot her friends entirely. Only in the quiet of night did Leo hear her distant, whispering voice in his mind.

“Leo, Leo…”

“I’m here.”

“Tell Little Mouse that I miss her…”

Leo turned and said, “Little Mouse, Freya says she misses you.”

Little Mouse crept over, pressed her small head to Leo’s forehead, but heard nothing. So she simply said, “I miss her too.”

Leo relayed, “Freya, Little Mouse says she misses you too.”

“Leo, Leo, tell Olivia I miss her too!”

“Olivia’s not here, she’s next door asleep.”

“Then have her sleep with you tomorrow night.”

“All right.”

“Leo, Leo, tell Olivia to bake me a barley cake every day and keep it under your bed! When I return, I’ll have plenty to eat!”

“Um… all right?”

“Leo, Leo, I’ve made up my mind. Tonight, when my master isn’t watching, I’ll sneak back to Riverbend and eat all the cakes you’ve stored for me!”

“Hmm… have you considered that your master might hear all this?”

“What?”

“Oh no… Leo, help me!”

“Leo, Leo! Hey, are you there?”

Growing impatient, Leo found Freya less and less endearing. “Are you done yet? Go to sleep!”

The next night, once Urian had gone to bed, Olivia slipped into Leo’s room, lying beside him with a barely suppressed smile. “Are you sure it was Freya who asked me here, not you?”

Leo had invited her earlier in the day, and Olivia, eager, had told her friends. They scolded Leo, but were secretly envious. One married sister and the widow Agatha even pulled Olivia aside to teach her some secret knowledge, wishing they could demonstrate in person.

“It was Freya,” Leo protested, “She wanted to talk with you.”

“And where is she now?”

“Maybe she fell asleep?”

Olivia straddled Leo, bracing her hands on his chest, caressing him gently as she tried to calm her nerves. “And where did you send Little Mouse?”

A small head peeked out from under the bed. “I’m here…”

Olivia quickly covered herself, pinching Leo’s waist with all her strength, but smiling brightly at Little Mouse. “Would you mind swapping rooms with me tonight?”

Little Mouse reluctantly crawled out, lingering at the door, peeking in for quite a while. Only when she saw neither of them would ask her to stay did she finally slip away, unwilling but yielding all the same.