Guardian's Farm 3

“I think I’ll drop you here,” he said once we arrived at the town, and the cart joined a line, waiting for the guards to check the contents and let him inside. “I would have offered you to come in with me, but…”

“Not a problem,” I said as I jumped down. “You already helped me by giving me a ride for the last day.”

The driver looked abashed at that, which made me feel guilty, as it was not my intention. “No, that’s the least I can do to save my life against those monsters.”

“Nonsense. I have seen the way you use the spear. You could have dealt with a few hungry beasts easily. I just made it easier.”

“Agree to disagree,” he replied with a chuckle. “By the way, I realized we didn’t share our names. I’m Thom,” he said, slapping his chest.

I paused for a moment, wondering whether I should give my real name. I didn’t want to change it like a criminal … but I also didn’t want to deal with a bunch of annoying minor nobles bugging me with duels to gain ‘honor’ or play a part in their little political game. “And, I’m Mag,” I decided. It was not exactly common, but it was still a variant of my name.

It felt fitting for my cowardly retirement. From the Grand Guardian Magna to the lone farmer Mag.

We shook hands and I walked away. He didn’t offer to bring me into town, but I didn’t begrudge him for it. Entering the town with him would mean that anything I do like a drunken night ending in a bar fight might reflect back on him negatively.

Instead, I took a deep breath, watching the children run around the carts, accompanied by their parents as they laughed in joy.

A small smile bloomed on my face. Their joy was the only reason I didn’t regret fighting in the war, no matter how many disappointments it brought to me. Politics tired me, both during the war and after it, and I hated the resulting status quo, but I didn’t regret fighting in the first place.

Even in my disgraceful defeat and ignoble retreat, I could take solace in the fact that I did my best. It was just that my best wasn’t enough…

 I was tired.

I walked around, examining the high stone walls that encircled the town, a testament to times when such defenses were necessary. Such a wall should be too much for a town, but the dark times that we experienced had proved otherwise.

Though, now that the war was a distant memory, the walls acted as a barrier to keep people in, rather than the threats out.

I sighed as I adjusted the strap of my tiny pouch, which contained a few silver and copper coins that I managed to collect during my trip from the capital, the extent of my material wealth. Everything else I owned, I donated to the orphanages that I could access. It felt wrong to use the money I had collected during my adventures for my personal comfort, a reminder of my spectacular failure.

What I had should be enough to buy the tools I needed. A nice multipurpose blade, an axe, maybe a saw. The rest, I would build with my own hands.

Walking around the town, it didn’t take long for me to find a tent, with a sign that indicated it was the Reclamation Office, albeit crooked and misspelled. There was a line, which I joined, ignoring the gawking of others.

The office was outside the main walls, showing the exact group that it had been targeting. I said nothing, as I watched the others enter and talk with the guards. Some bribed the guards, the others fought with them for better spots or more area. I said nothing, waiting for my turn.

It arrived almost an hour later. I stepped inside, and the scribe at the desk looked at me, a surprise passing through his face. “You don’t look like the usual farmer,” he said.

“I’m a veteran,” I answered, which was the easiest.

“I thought you all got fancy land in the central plains. Why are you here?” he said, needlessly confrontational.

I recognized the type. A small-minded clerk, probably getting his first taste of power. It was a safe bet to guess that he was a distant relative of a minor noble, desperate to show everyone his superiority. I also knew that he wouldn’t be as loud if it wasn’t for the two guards, standing behind him, wearing their mismatched yet well-maintained armor.

“Not everyone has the heroics to earn that honor,” I replied.

“A coward, then,” the scribe said with a disdainful smile, scratching his patchy beard smugly.

“Something like that,” I answered, unable to hide my flinch. Resigning with a letter, abandoning every position, and disappearing into the wilderness… Politics might not be my battlefield, but still, cowardly defined me fine. “I’m here to claim a homestead.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You and half the kingdom. Got your entry fee?”

“Unfortunately, medical costs wiped me out,” I said. I knew that there was no such fee, at least officially, but they wouldn’t be the first government officials that had used their public positions to fill their pockets.

Living in the capital for two years, I was uncomfortably familiar with all types of corruption.

“No fee, no land,” they replied.

“Even for a veteran?” I asked, doing my best to sound pitiful.

That resulted in a nasty smirk. “No, not even for a veteran,” the reply came even as he played with his money pouch.

I couldn’t help but sigh. I had retreated half a world away to escape from greed and corruption, only to fall right into it. I wasn’t tempted to bribe them. It would have been a moral failing.

I was ashamed to admit that, two years ago, I would have probably slammed the guards against each other — carefully so as not to kill them — before I dragged the scribe to whatever noble that was ruling the town, and forced him to be punished.

I was naive back then, assuming that such corruption was a moral failing of the individual. Living in the capital for two years had taught me otherwise. It was a rot that spread from the top, one that infected even the closest thing I had for a living family.

Luckily, the same torturous experience had taught me some stuff. I decided to handle the situation in a way Anna would have handled. “That’s too bad,” I said with a forced earnest tone. “Maybe I should go and petition the city lord. I’m sure he would be willing to listen to a veteran and make some changes.”

As I said that, I did my best to sound honest and naive rather than threatening. After ending on the other side of that many times, I knew how effective it might be. The trick was to act like I didn’t understand the true implications of what I was saying.

Of course, I had no doubt that someone high enough on the totem was aware of the bribery scheme. Hell, the majority of the money was probably going there one way or another. But, that didn’t mean that they wanted to be confronted about it during an open forum.

The scribe looked at me sharply, before he shared a gaze with the guards. I subtly flexed my arms like I was stretching, displaying some of my scars. A silent, ‘accidental’ reminder to the guards that I wasn’t a meek peasant and that they could threaten into silence just with a beating.

It wouldn’t have worked if I threatened them openly, but by framing it as poorly aimed kindness, I draw them away from such a conclusion.

“You know what,” the scribe said. “You have fought for us. I’m sure I can arrange something for you,” he said.

“Really?” I said with a large, stupid smile. “Do you have anything near water, maybe not too far away from a village?”

That earned a vicious smile. “Unfortunately, those are all reserved. The best I can do is a nice, connected plot on the outskirts of a mountain. But, it’s good land.”

“Thank you anyway,” I said, this time giving a combination of disappointment yet thankful, like it wasn’t what I wished for in the first place. I didn’t want anything close to the water, or a village. That would have been valuable financially, but also too crowded for my taste. I mentioned those, because the young scribe was clearly petty enough to give the opposite of what I asked for.

And, in the process, giving me exactly what I wanted.

Solitude.

“May I ask where’s the land,” I asked.

“Do you know how to read maps?” the scribe asked, already bored after his victory. I nodded. He rolled a large map, and then showed me the document. “Let’s see… It’s a parcel by the mountain range. Rough terrain, far from the nearest village. Just follow the river until the bridge, then follow the road. The document has the rest of the local details.”

“Thank you, sir,” I said, even though that word had felt foreign to my tongue. As the Grand Guardian, I had no superior. Even Elric, as the Elder Councilman, had been merely the first in a ceremonial position.

It would take a while to adapt to changes.

“Careful, there are some unverified reports about goblin bandits up in the mountains,” one of the guards said as I turned to leave. “You might want to get a sword, or a bow.”

I couldn’t help but smile at that. It had been a while since anyone actually warned me about danger below a crazed dragon. “I appreciate the warning,” I said with a genuine smile as I turned, memorizing the face of the guard before I stepped out of the tent.

I had a far away, isolated, and likely hard-to-cultivate land to settle into, and I hadn’t worked as a farmer for what felt like a lifetime. But then, I had been fifteen when I last did that, and now I was forty. It had been twenty-five years.

No wonder it felt like a lifetime ago. I couldn’t help but look at the mountains, preparing myself for yet another life. My fingers tightened around the tube that held a certain painting just as something in my chest tightened.

Too bad I was going to do it alone.