The Sea of Chaff

Rebe

The town, like the castle, had no sort of moat. A few rivers flowed down the hill and out of the walls, but nothing voluminous. Instead, there was more of a rocky ditch below. It had some moss from the riverfront, but certainly no moat.

There was a winding dirt and gravel path and a small hut village right in the middle of it. It was truly serene. Rebe closed her eyes and let the wind wash across her face. Her hair flowed like ribbon. She felt free. They made their way down the steep hill. The boy, who named himself Samuel, was singing what seemed to be a nursery rhyme.

"Wind o' wind, I sail o' wind. Through the Sea of Chaff and grain. I hope it rains 'onother day, for today is for the wind." It had that slightly haunting cadence that some nursery rhymes have. "The barley braces. The amar blushes. The wind dances through their way."

Rebe just listened and smiled as the freckled boy sang and danced about. They reached the bottom of the hill and not long after arrived in a village that had no official name. Most called it Farmtown. Some called it Chaffield, which she much preferred. They made their way from the center of town towards Samuel's family's plot.

"The Chaff Sea is older than my pops and his pops, too. It's even older than Pax Æure itself. The Sea has been cultivated for generations. We take as needed and replant. It sustains itself mostly. We just fill in the gaps."

They came to the hut, one of the simple wooden structures with a thatched roof. Samuel opened the door. Inside was a family of Samuel look-alikes. His father, also Samuel, was a larger, more exaggerated version of his son. He was missing teeth, even more sun-kissed and freckly, golden of hair and beard, and big and strong. His mother, Rita, was a slight thing, terribly kind, and terribly golden of hair. His baby sister was just now growing her golden hair. Cousin Chris, a brunette, also seemed to live with them and helped out as she could. Samuel greeted his parents, introduced them to Rebe, and then went over to play with his baby sister, who was delighted to see him.

"Welcome to our humble home," Big Sam greeted. "Can we get you something to eat? Corn, bread, cornbread? I bake it meself." Rebe was hungry. She hadn't eaten before she left the castle.

"I'd love some of your bread. Thank you." Big Sam got up from the bench to fix it. There was a simple wooden table with benches in the center of the room. The room that was also the entire house was tiny. There were cots made of grain in every corner, along with a broken trunk, all on the dirt floor. The fireplace was built of loose, unmortared stone. The kitchen consisted of a simple table and some clay pots and jars. Quiant would be putting it nicely.

"So, where are you from? What brings you to our little community?" Rita's sweetness hid her extreme curiosity and caution.

"...I'm not from around here, well, I'm not from Æurea at all, I mean. I came here with The Hero of Otherworld. He's my friend, and rather than letting him come to this dangerous place alone, my other friend, Daniel, and I figured he would be a lot safer if he had us looking out for him as well." Rebe decided to hold nothing back from these people. She felt she could trust them.

"I see. We heard the tale of your Hero. They say he is going to save us from the blight of the Rotten, digging out of their graves, and coming to take our farms and food."

"Rotten? Are you talking about the walking corpses?"

"So we have heard. Haven't seen them myself, but I hear that they have no skin, they travel in packs, and they slaughter anyone standing in their path. The Duke has been fighting with them for months now, and it seems the battle is not going well. There seems to be an infinite number of them. They have already taken several farming villages and forts inland, and no doubt they will come for us before Doubling. They seem to avoid the cities mostly." The fear in Rita's eyes was apparent. "They follow a false prophet, a Rotten Hero"

"Who is this Rotten Hero?"

"I hear he wields a scythe sharper than most swords, and that he sacrifices babies to summon his power. He never grows tired, never sleeps, never eats. He hides himself in a cloak of death and vanishes before any real soldiers can arrive." Rebe was so captivated by the story she hardly noticed when Big Sam planted a plate of bread, butter, jam, and corn down in front of her. She thanked him.

"Don't go filling this poor girl's head with faerie stories. Next, you'll tell her how the Dire Wolves stole our horses."

"What horses? I'm more worried about the Dire Wolves stealing Little Samuel," Rita shot back. Rebe was shocked to realize the dire wolves weren't the odd part of that comparison. Rebe ate the bread slathered in jam and butter greedily. The bread was fresh and delicious, and each of the compliments only made it better.

Big Sam explained how all of the Chaff Sea was owned by the Duke. Well, technically, it was owned by Princess Leo, but the Duke ran it in his name. The farmers worked it communally. They paid the Duke his tax and lived off what was left over, split amongst them. They all worked together to cultivate these rich hills and valleys. He said it was one of the most productive farms on the entire island, despite having fewer than 80 full-time farmers. Rebe had stayed and talked with them for several hours when she noticed the sun setting. She decided she should head back into town before it grew dark.

"Please feel free to come again and visit us. And bring that Hero of yours," Rita added.

"Oh well, he's not mine," Rebe blushed, realizing she misunderstood.

"I'll walk you to the gate," Big Sam offered, and Rebe gratefully accepted. Big Sam grabbed an old straw hat. They set out. Big Sam greeted everyone they passed. Many had pitchforks. They seemed tense and on guard. Rebe noticed the watchtowers breaching through the surface, all across the Chaff Sea. Five in total, four of which were lit up and manned. They seemed to bring little comfort to the farmers outside the walls. The walls of the town and castle that ate and profited from the work of the farmers of the Chaff Sea.

"No signal, Frank," Big Sam called out to one tense farmer who was staring at the tower nearest the village.

"No, Sam, no signal. But I don't trust Castle's watchmen. We know the Chaff Sea. Not them. They don't keep us safe." The farmer was gritting his teeth angrily. Big Sam just waved and kept walking.

"A lot of the folk are real riled up and worried about these Undien folk. The Rotten, as me wife calls them. Frank calls them worse. I just don't know. Can't judge someone I haven't yet met," Big Sam pondered. She wondered what Frank called them.

They arrived at the edge of the village. Rebe managed to convince Big Sam she would be fine from here, said goodbye, and continued on alone. Up the steep and winding hill road. She thought hard about these Rotten... these Undien people? Who were they? Why do they avoid cities? If they don't eat, why do they want farms? And who is this Rotten Hero? She would have to tell Sato and Daniel all she had learned.

She made it back to the gate just before the sun set. The guards let her through, though they were dubious that she was who she claimed. No bow. They must have thought her harmless. She walked through the streets of Hilltown until she reached the walls of the keep. There, the guards called for her. She answered. These guards she recognized, and they recognized her as well. They said Prince Leo and the Hero were waiting for her in the parlor. She went where she was bid.