RFC-Miniarc-An Average Day (Gajin)-2

Once Kierra departed, Gajin attended to the rest of his chores, finishing early in the afternoon. He stopped for a late lunch, snatching berries and edible leaves from the plants in the garden. When he was full, he took a seat beneath a sun fan, the flowers that grew so tall they could more accurately be described as little trees, and closed his eyes, simply enjoying being surrounded by nature.

Until the sound of anxious voices disturbed his peace.

Wearing an annoyed frown, the gardener rose to his feet and scanned his surroundings. It didn’t take long to discover the intruders as they made no business of hiding. There were three, two men and a woman, all wearing brown cloaks with silver flower broaches on their chests.

He couldn’t make out more details on account of the hoods covering their faces and the fact that they had their backs to him. Using the techniques taught to him by his mistress, Gajin crept forward, his footsteps entirely silent and light enough they didn’t harm a blade of grass.

“…incredible. I’ve never seen anything like this!”

“Careful! We’ve gotten reports that many of the plants in the elf’s garden are poisonous.”

“We also don’t want to damage anything. That would be a crying shame.”

“Eh-hem.”

The strangers jumped and turned. Each of them took him in with varying expressions. The woman’s gaze was quizzical, one of the men was tense, and the other wore a smile with no happiness behind it.

As a bandit, Gajin wasn’t the strongest fighter. He survived by learning to gauge threats. They didn’t seem like threats but looks could be deceiving and he would take no chances with the garden. “You’re trespassing on private property.”

“Ah, our apologies!” The man with the fake smile stepped forward, shrugging off his hood. Beneath it was a man with tanned skin, thick brown hair that was just starting to gray, and dark blue eyes that hid his intentions. “We meant to head straight for the front door but we got sidetracked by these beautiful specimens.”

The gardener could understand that. “Well, it’s time to leave. The mistress doesn’t like people wandering the garden.”

“You refer to Kierra Atainna, yes? We were hoping to see her.”

Gajin sighed. A good portion of his duties involved chasing away those curious about the visitor from another continent. It was a constant chore in the beginning, especially dealing with the arrogant noble youths who couldn’t understand someone wasn’t dying to be in their presences.

Less of a chore now that the novelty had worn off but every now and again, a straggler came by, looking for a little excitement. “The mistress is busy. Perhaps you should send a letter with an address we can use to contact you. If the mistress is interested, she will arrange a meeting time to her satisfaction.”

“Yes, that would be the polite thing. I was indeed raised with manners. Unfortunately, Miss Atainna has yet to respond to our letters. Excuse me, I’ve been remiss. We haven’t introduced ourselves. I am Senior Finch of the Harvest Naturalist Society.” He waved to the other man. “This is Pupil Aaron.” Aaron pulled back his hood, revealing a square-jawed, solemn man with blond hair shaved close to his head.

“And my second associate is Pupil Sue.”

The woman pulled down her hood, revealing a young woman with a forgettable face but a friendly smile. She waved and Gajin returned her greeting with a shallow nod.

“The mission of the Harvest Naturalist Society is to catalogue, research, and study the use of every plant and creature in the kingdom. A mission that is never-ending, truly, but we could hardly ignore the chance to examine new species.” His eyes cut to the garden briefly before refocusing on Gajin. “With our knowledge and resources, there is no telling what new avenues can be unlocked.”

Gajin tried not to laugh. The thought of these poachers attempting to teach his mistress anything was ridiculous. “The mistress is very busy.”

“I understand. I’m just asking for five minutes of her time.”

No one ever bothered to listen when he asked nicely. Squaring his shoulders, Gajin raised himself to his full height. The garden was his domain, his responsibility. That made the trespassers his problem. “Get out of my garden.”

Finch’s smile dimmed. “Relax, please. We don’t mean you or Miss Atainna any harm. Much of our work is used by alchemists and healers to benefit the kingdom. If there is something in this garden that can be used to make the next rejuvenation potion, don’t you think it should be shared? Of course, we don’t expect your mistress to part with her treasures without compensation.”

Gajin reached into the higher pockets of his jacket, pulling out several small bags. He poured out the contents into his palm, several seeds that were useful for people with hearing problems.

Seeing them, Finch smiled deviously. “Ah. Of course, there’s no need to bother your mistress just yet. We could barter for a small sample of seeds. Perhaps with a few studies to show what we can do, Miss Atainna might be more willing to entertain our hopes of cooperation.”

The gardener sneered at him. “I don’t need your gold. And if you don’t leave, I’ll make you.”

“We—"

Aaron had better reflexes than Finch. He reacted when Gajin threw three of the seeds, stepping in front of the older man. It was unfortunate he couldn’t fathom the nature of the attack. He responded instinctively but didn’t truly think to guard against seeds.

He was caught entirely unprepared when they cracked and burst with enough force to throw him and Finch to the ground, the men yelling in pain. Sue froze, raising her hands palms up. “Wait, wait—"

He didn’t. Eyes aglow, he cast a spell. She yelped as the earth beneath her opened, swallowing her up to her waist before it closed, trapping her.

“Bastard!”

“No!”

Finch tried to stop the younger man but Aaron shoved him off, fire sprouting in his palm. Gajin threw another four seeds and ran as the other man launched his attack. When they collided, the seeds exploded, the force catapulting the men across the garden. Sue yelped, shielding her face with her arms. She didn’t see the rock moving into position over her head and died with an ominous crack as it dropped.

The two men were still stunned and in no position to defend themselves as Gajin crept up to them, knife in hand. Aaron was just starting to come to his senses when a shadow appeared over him. He instinctively tried to build a spell but a blade entering his heart cut him off.

Finch rolled to his hands and knees just in time to see Gajin pull the knife from Aaron’s chest. He squealed as the gardener turned to him, hastily climbing to his feet. “W-w-wait a minute!” he shouted, throwing his hands up as Gajin slowly advanced on him. “We can talk about this!”

Gajin sighed. “You’re the one who ignored my repeated requests to leave. Rules are rules. No trespassers make it out of the garden alive.”

“You won’t get away with this, you madman! The Hall won’t sit back as you murder people.”

“You think you’re the first?” Gajin hit him across the face with the hilt of his knife, sending him sprawling to the ground. “They haven’t stopped us yet. Probably because they can never find the bodies.”

“I don’t understand. It’s just a few plants! You could have just said no—gah!”

Finch gurgled as the knife entered his throat. Gajin yanked on his weapon, slitting his throat. He sighed. “I’m a former bandit. No one knows better than me that men don’t care about no. You’d just come back and take what you want. Not that you can hear me.”

The gardener wiped his blade on the cloak of the dead man before jogging to the house. “Oi, Earl!” he shouted, walking into the living room. “Going to need some help.”

The steward walked out of the study, followed by Geneva. “What is it?”

“Body disposal.”

“Ah. One moment.” The boy disappeared into the kitchen, coming back with a long knife, the stout blade half the length of his arm, and several large canvas bags. He handed the bags to the gardener and Gajin led him to the corpses.

“Sure you don’t want me to do the cutting?” Gajin asked as they crouched beside Aaron, opening one of the bags.

“I’m stronger than I look,” Earl assured with a smile. Gajin shivered. The boy used to flinch at the sight of blood. He only stuck with banditry to provide for his sister, but he was never fond of the work. Gajin thought he’d leave in another year or two, when he was old enough that someone would consider him for more honest work. It was disquieting to see the same boy smiling while preparing to cut a man to pieces.

Earl removed his jacket and folded it beside him. He raised the knife high before bringing it down on the man’s wrist, severing it with one brutal chop. The next chop was aimed for the elbow. Then the shoulder.

Gajin grimly placed the pieces into bags as the man was dismembered. They moved onto the woman next. Gajin didn’t even flinch as she was cut up. Rat, the leader of the bandits he’d spent several years with, might have been one of the better of his lot, but Gajin had seen plenty of terrible sights in his life. Horrible things happened to innocent people, especially those who ignored several well-intentioned warnings.

Arms and head in one bag, legs in another, torso in a third. Earl was efficient and indeed stronger than Gajin thought, easily cutting through the human corpses without so much as changing his breathing. Then he shrugged his jacket back on and carried his bloody knife to the house with a jovial farewell.

Gajin retrieved a wheelbarrow from his hut. Loading the bags inside, he carted them off to the rear garden. That was where the mistress kept her compost bins, filled with exotic insects that broke down organic material faster than any worm or beetle he’d ever witnessed. They’d even eat a man’s bones. Not to mention the compost they produced was incredible.

The gardener put down his burden with a sigh beside three large stone tubs, each of them waist high, longer than he was tall, and over an arm span wide. Gajin grabbed three bags and dumped them into one of the tubs.

In response, the soil began to ripple. Dozens of shiny black beetles clawed their way to the surface and swarmed over the dead flesh. “Eat up, little buddies,” he grumbled, emptying the rest of the bags before throwing them into the wheelbarrow, ignoring the chittering of hundreds of insects feeding. He ran off, eager to get back to his hut.

His body was accustomed to early mornings but he liked to nap a few hours in the afternoon. Thanks to the visitors who’d rudely awakened him, he only had an hour or so before he had to prepare for his nightly duties and instruction.

He would take instruction from the imp that could move the earth as easily as he could move his arm before it was his turn with the thrall that did saints knew what inside his mind while he spent several minutes that would feel like days killing trespassers in the thrall’s fake world.

Being a gardener was a demanding job.