Let’s have a wheel discussion (Hey, you’re awake enough to have one)

The next day, the syhee had dragged the Malevolence-laden necromancer over to her pride and joy.

Granny Panza’s wagon was just about what Paul imagined it to be, and even had one of those canvas coverings to keep its cargo out of the rain and sun. Paul’s quick glance saw it was filled with everything a traveling saleswoman could think of selling: Rolls of fabric were crushed by crates and baskets of food, roundels and ingots of metal, wood utensils, books, a veritable mountain of assorted bric-a-brac.

“No need to take inventory this time, but study up the list and cross reference it with whatever I sell off or buy up when we hit Lamespring over the hill,” Panza was quick to order as she clambered up onto the bench seat.

“Not gonna give me a hand?” Paul drolly asked as he struggled up behind her.

“Ha, and pull down this old hag instead?” Panza chimed with a wry grin. “You’ll have to learn to do this without me when I’m hungover and riding in the back!”

“You’re really looking forward to semi-retirement, huh.”

With both hands around the reins, it didn’t take long before the old wagon and the mules it was tied to started rolling out of Akalt. Now it was just the vast wilds – a sea of evergreen firs rose to meet them, and it would have been difficult to navigate the unexpected dips, crags, and rivers, had not years of fastidious road building cleared out the forest to leave hard-packed dirt roads that wound their way around every obstacle, while wood log bridges did their best to cover any gaps that remained.

They weren’t pristine roads, but it was still very civilized by Paul’s metrics.

“I suppose you’ve been told about the irony of a syhee driving some mules forward,” he noted with a sense of dry amusement, eyes fixed squarely on a sheathe of papers he was reviewing instead of marveling at the world around him.

Panza scoffed. “I heard there was a cat-earred empress who liked her pets. Folk learned to shut up fast. Anyways, I’m a syhee, not a horse. Was born to my ma and pa like normal, ears and tail are incidental.”

“Fair enough,” her new employee said, expelling that bit of tasteless observation quickly before looking about himself. “Since we’re on the road now, I have to ask: how bad is the situation out here? I remember the other night that the bartender made it sound like we’re hemmed in on all sides.”

“It’s just simple supply and demand, like all things,” Granny airily said, though even Paul could hear the hint of resignation in her tone. Bleak times called for bleak jokes. “Five years isn’t enough time for anything in the world to recover after the war. King Rulio’s been focusing on rebuilding the capital outwards, but he just can’t project the power outward as needed.”

“So the fringes are back to being lawless, in other words,” Paul realized.

“Most villages are getting by with militias to keep the order, but there’s some pretty fine lines,” The old syhee said. “Keeping the order quickly turns into taking over other villages. Some militias strike out and start turning to banditry and racketeering. About the only good business around here is when folk like you turn up and try looking into mercenary work to protect what caravans are willing to give it a shot, like me.”

“How often are we going to run into trouble, then?”

That got a hapless shrug out of the elderly equine. “It’s a case by case business. Most of the time I can talk them down or work out a deal. Even bandits are having trouble getting enough food around here, much less money. The real problem’s going to be if we run into any corruption. Malevolence still lingers here, and even a little bird or rodent can become a real problem if they get a real bad taint!”

It painted a pretty unsightly picture for Paul about how barren and adrift these edges of Forness had become. It was almost a question of when a warlord would whip everyone into shape, and worse, direct that inevitable sense of abandonment at the kingdom’s capital. Nature abhorred a vacuum.

Panza’s loud voice, however, cut him off before he could pursue that inquiry. “Anyways, I blathered on long enough, tell me more about yourself!”

Ah, that old interview chestnut, Paul ruefully groaned in his head. He had to start coming up with a good non-answer once Panza started asking “what do you see yourself doing in five years?”, or “what do you consider your strengths and weaknesses?”

“I very much doubt my story is any different from anyone else who’s wound up out here,” he answered flatly. “This is about all I can manage for a change of scenery. It’s not like I can afford to live it up in the city.”

“Mysterious type, huh? I’m sure I’ll get some juicy secrets out of you once we hit the next tavern.”

“That’s something you’d say to a friend of mine, I’m sure,” Paul said.

In the recesses of his mind, Trudy’s voice snaked across his brain, incisive. (I heard that.)

(Well, you’re not gonna live it down either.)

The casual use of their powers grounded Paul back into more immediate concerns, and he set about secretly using the ride to reach out. He wasn’t sure how far it was to Lamespring, but he hoped that Malevolence was nearby to drink dry and, with any luck, perhaps take the pressure of this place.

Projects, projects, and more projects. Whatever kept him busy, and free to keep sneering at this fantasy world.

There was something deep down that was starting to stretch and buckle at all of this – homesickness, or perhaps the moment of terror in a dark place, or that glaring blank spot before he found himself surrounded by an army of the dead, or most of all, that distant memory of pure evil telling him to commit more on his behalf.

As long as he kept pushing forward, Paul could keep a hold of the control over his own mind and body. He was owed that much control over himself, even if he was having trouble recalling the old days, beyond thankless grunt work.

Those thoughts, however, he would not be adding to his interview.

Instead, he perked up at a howl in the distance.

“Trouble, Granny?” He wondered, as he watched his new boss tighten her grip on the reins.

“Old ones. We’ll take ‘em as we come. Same as ever.”