Preston loomed over the thin man, using his much greater bulk to his advantage. From his seated position, Mr Slathern had to arc his neck in a most uncomfortable position to keep Preston in his sight. Size had its perks.

“I know you saw the Knight. I need to know what you know.”

“Nuthin’! Honest, mister!” Thin man meant thin spine, and this one was quivering more than a newborn calf.

“Mistress Kingston needs me to find the Knight. It’s very important to her. You don’t want to upset her, do you?”

Slathern’s thin lips quivered and tears formed at the corners of his eyes.

“No!” The thin tone pierced at Preston’s ears, but he ignored it. He had a task to complete. “No, I dun wanna upset her. But I dun know nuthin’, or I woulda told ye!”

“I know you would never betray the Lady, Slathern. But I need you to tell me everything. You introduce yourself to every newcomer, so Howard tells me.”

“That’s right,” Howard said from his place against the wall, ankles crossed with his shoulders pressed to the faded wallpaper. He spat a string of dark tabac juice to the floor. “Always tryin’ ta get the Bounty, too yellow ta finish.”

Preston turned back to Slathern. “Is that so? You tried to get the Bounty on me, didn’t you.”

“Um,” the man’s thin chest heaved as his eyes darted between Preston’s hard face and the large rifle in his hand. Preston smiled and patted the man on his shoulder. Thin as he was, Slathern nearly tipped out of the chair from the force.

“Don’t worry, we’re all friends here. Myrtle got the Bounty on me, and I’m still staying there tonight. Ms Kingston’s informed me the Bounty is for her to meet the interesting people who come through here. And this,” Preston lifted the rifle, “is just in case. Army taught me it never hurts to have a big fuck-off stick.”

Howard snorted from the wall, but Preston ignored him. The man hadn’t been more than a member of the Mayor’s Militia, not even County level. Preston was willing to bet Slathern had never held a rifle in his life, not even to fight in the Midwinter Risings.

“All I can tell ye is the Knight asked ‘bout the Wards an’ where to find the General Store. Sent him to Laura an’ left it there. Made my spine crawl. Ye know how Knights is. He were tryin’ to take my Name so’s he could control me!”

“Knights don’t do that, idiot,” Preston snapped. Slathern’s thin voice was reminiscent of screaming cats fighting in the dead of night, both annoying and unstoppable.

“They do! Everyone says so!”

“Have you met a Knight, before yesterday? Medicine men and Yarb Doctors don’t count,” Preston said before the man could protest again. “Or priests or mages. Iron Knights.”

“... no,” Slathern mumbled. “I ain’t.”

“I have. They can’t take your Name. Only demons can do that. Now, what else do you remember about the Knight?”

Unsurprisingly, the man knew nothing more. Preston wasted no more time with the man and left the way he had come, through the splintered front door. Howard had taken particular joy in knocking in the man’s door when he refused to answer, and Preston now knew why.

“This ain’t getting us nowhere. Why ain’t we followin’ the trail from the wagon?” Howard complained for the third time since Preston had met him in the morning.

The Lady Kingston had seen fit to give Preston aid in the forms of five men, Howard among them. As best Preston could tell, they had been chosen for their ability to do violence upon others. Only Howard possessed what one might consider brains, small as they were. As such, Howard had become his de facto second in command and guide around the town of Quincy Hill. The others were assisting the Lady until Preston saw need for them.

“Because one, we’ve already followed the trail to a river where we can’t be sure where they went, and two, there is no way a Knight left a trace behind to follow.”

“Left plenty at the mansion.”

“There’s nothing left to find at the mansion. The Lady made sure of it, you know that. And her… that thing couldn’t hunt them either. The Knight’s cloaked himself from their sight.” Preston had to suppress a shudder at the thought of the thing walking around in what had once been a man. A good man, a good soldier. A Captain of the Federation, on his way home. His family would never learn what had happened to their son. Their father. Preston shook himself and focused.

“An’ questioning people who might’a seen the Knight is better? The Lady knows ‘im better than anyone.”

“But the Lady did not see what he bought, or hear if he mentioned anyone in the area. We need facts, and leads.”

Howard kicked at a stone in the road and watched as it narrowly missed a young boy running down the opposite side. The boy opened his mouth to shout but closed it as soon as he saw who had kicked the stone. Slathern had lived far from the main street, tucked away from the rest of the town by a fold in the land. Whether he had chosen the place to build his home, or the place had been chosen for him, Preston did not know. He suspected it was the latter.

“What did ye do in the Army? A Captain, leader o’ men? Ye the police? Detective? Hunted deserters?” Howard demanded.

“No,” Preston said. “I was artillery.”

“Where’s yer horse then? Don’t seem right qualified to be in charge here. You ain’t know nothin’ ‘bout Quincy Hill.”

“And you are?” Preston snapped back. “Left to your own ways, you would still be chasing the river to the sea! The Lady chose me because I’ve led fighting men and have dealt with Knights. Or are you questioning her judgment?”

Howard ducked his head and cast his head about, eyes wide. “Never! I would never question the Lady.”

“Then shut up and help me find the man who is trying to kill her.”

“Fine,” Howard said. Preston could see him chewing on the words he wanted to say, but his devotion to the Lady kept him quiet. Thankfully. The pair walked in silence for another block before stopping by the only other place the Knight had been. The bell chimed again as Preston and Howard walked in.

There were two other customers in the shop, more than the last time Preston had been in. One was a short man with shoulders wider than an axe handle and black curled hair. The other was a woman with orange hair down to her waist and rings on every finger. When they noticed Howard, the man and woman grew pale and walked out the door, leaving their collected bundles behind.

Laura was in the same place she’d been the last time Preston had seen her, tucked behind the counter with the wooden bird in her hands. It was nearly painted now, waiting on the beak. At the sound of heavy boots she looked up. Color drained from her face when she saw Preston.

“G-good afternoon, sirs. What can I-I-I-”

“Relax,” Preston said with an upraised hand, “I am not here to harm anyone, or to settle any debts you may have. Nor do I hold a grudge for you trying to collect the Bounty on me. The Lady has explained the situation to me.”

“Oh,” the shopkeeper gasped. “Oh, wonderful news.”

“We’re here ‘bout that Knight,” Howard growled. “No yer failed seduction.”

Color flushed the roots of Laura’s hair, but her voice was calm and professional. “How can I assist ye?”

“What can you tell us about the Knight who was here two days ago? Everything he talked about, anything that might have indicated where he was going,” Preston said.

“The Knight?” Laura tapped a finger on the wooden bird for a moment before she answered. “Average height, build. Tattooed from neck to toes, I assume. All manner o’ scars. No my type, else I woulda tried to trip him upstairs fer the Boun—”

“We ain’t here ‘bout who ye will or will not sleep with,” Howard growled, looming his large bulk over the counter. “Use yer tiny excuse fer a brain—”

“Just ‘cuz I ain’t gonna trip ye—” Laura interrupted Howard before Preston spoke over them both, pressing his even larger bulk between Laura and Howard.

“I don’t give a shit about what history you two seem to have. We are here for a task for the Lady.” Preston stared down hard at Howard before the man stepped back with a sneer. Preston had seen many men like him in the Army. They only responded to physical confrontation and superior force. Being the largest man in his battalion meant Preston was often a source of discipline. He’d developed an aura of threat in response. It worked wonders on Howard, who was not used to being the smaller man in the room.

“And you,” Preston said, rounding on the small woman behind the shop counter, “please continue. Relevant details only.”

With a gulp of air, Laura nodded and pulled her hair behind her ears. “He came in fer travel rations, enuff fer ten days he said. Soap. No horse feed, which I thought were strange, but he said he ain’t had a horse. Something ‘bout a train derailment.”

“What did he talk about? Mention going anywhere?” Preston prompted her. Train derailment? Had this Knight have something to do with the incident beginning the series of events that led Preston to arrive here in Quincy Hill? He would have to punch the Knight for delaying his trip home. And thank him for bringing him to the town of the Lady.

“Said he were going to Gryndton. Asked ‘bout Reverend Parker, an’ the Lady.” Laura’s brows pulled together. “And he asked about the Granny Woman.”

“He knew the Granny Woman?” Howard demanded from his new position by the door. “He were here fer her?”

Irritated at the intrusion, Preston waved his hand to silence the other man. Laura gave him a small smile where Preston’s shoulders blocked Howard’s sight. She continued, “He were only askin’ after some dried pennyroyal, an’ where to find it.”

“Has she been here?” Howard demanded again. “Ye know the rules.”

“Ain’t been no Granny Woman here!” Laura protested, her cheeks flaring with anger. “I know the rules!”

Preston rubbed his eyes and sighed. “Enough. There’s nothing here to help us, clearly. Let’s go.”

“But!” Howard began, before a glare from Preston silenced him. A headache was beginning to build behind Preston’s eyes, the kind brought on by too much anger.

“Get out. We’ll start looking somewhere else.”

The bell rang out as the pair left, Howard stomping on each step as if hoping to break the thick wooden slabs. The two customers who had been in the shop when Preston and Howard arrived were waiting in the street, the man dry washing his hands fast enough Preston thought they might chaff. At the sight of the much taller men, he froze for a moment. At a puzzled look from Preston, he unfroze with a jump and hurried past into the General Store.

“Who is that man?” Preston asked Howard after the door had closed behind him. From the state of his clothes and dirt smudged face, Preston guessed a farmer or laborer.

“Dale Harper. Farmer in the north valley. Why do you care?”

“How big is his household?”

“Wife ‘n’ son, I think. What’s important about this?” Howard narrowed his eyes at Preston, suspicion lacing his voice.

“He’s buying too much food.”

“He’s what? You judgin’ a man fer the food he takes?”

Preston waved his hand in dismissal.

“That’s too much food for only three people. Think about it. You said the Granny Woman took the Knight off in her wagon, yes? Well, they have to hide somewhere. Does the Harper family know the rules?”

“May no.” Howard rubbed at his chin. “They’re rarely in town, an’ the Lady has better things to do than travel to the dirt farms an’ tell everyone the rules.”

“You know where his farm is?”

“Aye,” Howard nodded. Preston suppressed a grin. His method had paid off after all, if not in the way he had expected.

“Then let's go take a look. Backroads. Don’t want Farmer Harper to give us away.”

“Could always…” Howard left his hand near the handle of his oversized knife.

“No!” Preston hissed. “We’re not murdering anyone. Don’t even know if he is harboring enemies of the Lady. Maybe he does eat a lot.”

“Hmph,” Howard snorted. “Fine. This way.”

The pair marched through the town and within minutes were walking through overgrown fields of beans, the green stalks giving way to tan. A shame these would not be harvested, given the condition of the field. The field likely hadn’t seen a caring hand for months.

“Who worked this land?” Preston asked to fill the silence. “And where did they go?”

“Narlon family up an’ left few months back. Didn’t even pack the sheets.” Howard spat to the side with enough force to knock a dry leaf from a bean stalk.

“No one else took the land?” Preston paused a moment to kneel and dig a hand into the soil. Decent soil, for the climate. “Food’ll be in short supply come winter. Kindale supplied most of the food around here, right?”

“We don’t need outsiders helping.” Howard stared hard at Preston. In response, the old farmer turned soldier raised an eyebrow and walked on. As long as Howard followed orders, he could be as vocal as he wished.

The overgrown bean field became a shadowed forest of towering oaks, maple, and pine. The underbrush was clear beyond what nature would allow, lacking the small brush and weeds Preston would have expected. He did not question further and appreciated the silent passage it allowed.

“What does the Lady want with this Granny Woman anyway?” Preston asked in a low voice. There wasn’t a farm in sight, and he needed something to fill the silence.

“Same thing she wants with the Knight,” Howard growled. The ever loyal hunting dog. “Her head.”

“Granny Woman is the same as a Wise Woman or Hedge Doctor around these parts?” Preston asked. Howard grunted in reply. “What did a Wise Woman do to deserve death?”

“Ye questioning the Lady?” Howard rounded on Preston and shoved a finger into his chest. Preston ignored it and kept walking, enjoying the confusion in Howard’s eyes when his intimidation failed.

“I’ll do whatever she asks,” Preston pacified the man. “But I would like to know why. Killing women without a very good reason isn’t something I’m used to.”

“Granny Woman tried to kill the Lady first day she came through town. Got a mob and everything. Fools, the lot of ‘em. The smart ones of us taught ‘em what for.”

Preston connected the empty town to the events surrounding the arrival of the Lady. “The Lady seems to have managed alright.”

“She’s quite a woman,” Howard agreed. “I’d follow her to Hell an’ back.”

“That’s—” Preston was cut short by Howard’s upraised hand.

“We’re here. Shh.” The woods ended in a razor edge in a dozen feet, giving way to precisely sown crop land, the corn stalks reaching eight feet tall. Preston could appreciate the skill of Farmer Harper and the health of his soil. The corn itself appeared to be field corn, else he might have pulled an ear to taste.

Good sweet corn was hard to come by this far south of Aewa, and Preston tried to taste every strain he could. But home would come soon enough. After this business was concluded. As the pair moved through the tall corn stalks towards a plume of smoke rising on the far side of the field, Preston noticed something.

“Are those plants normal for the area?” Preston asked, his voice muffled by the wind blown corn leaves.

“What? Corn? ‘Course it fucking is, it’s corn.”

“They’ve got four ears per plant. That isn’t normal. How did this happen?” Preston needed to know. Perhaps it was something in the soil, but if these plants could grow four ears per stalk, he needed to take bags of kernels for his son’s farm. He would sell his boots for the seeds if he didn’t need them to walk back home. Quadrupled yield was a money maker, and Preston intended to carry it on if possible.

“I don’t fucking know. Do I look like a dirt farmer to ye?” Preston bit his tongue at the insult. There would be time for retaliation after they’d killed the Knight. Howard could deal with the Granny Woman himself, the Lady had only asked Preston to deal with the Knight.

The stalks thinned enough to allow the farm house to come into view. Nothing special about it, a simple two storied house, wood sided and painted a light blue, with a large porch. A house Preston would have been happy enough owning. The house was not what interested Preston.

A large woman with steel gray hair sat on the porch, a pipe in one hand and a tall glass in the other. Even at this distance, Preston could see the collection of bags, carved bracelets, and Charmed necklaces hanging about her person. The thick blackwood staff propped against the back of the chair only served as further proof this was the Granny Woman.

The deep growling from Howard’s throat confirmed what Preston didn’t need to be told. The man made to rise, his rifle lifted, but Preston grabbed his arm.

“Wait!” he hissed. “We don’t know if the Knight’s in there. We could scare him off.”

“I seen what the Lady’s pet did to him,” Howard hissed back. “If he ain’t dead, he ain’t goin’ anywheres.”

“You haven’t seen the things I’ve seen,” Preston said. “Knights… Knights aren’t hardly human. We verify he’s in there first. And go in careful.”

“If the Knight’s got ye quakin’ in yer boots, ye can go get the rest o’ the boys. ‘Course, I go in while ye’re gone and get the Knight and the Granny, and the Lady is real happy at me and real pissed at ye. Yer call.” Howard smiled like a cat who got into the cream, having backed Preston into a corner. Or what the man thought was a corner.

“We’re going in now, but only after we figure out if he’s in there or not. If he isn’t, we question the Granny.”

“Fine.”

They didn’t have long to wait. The sun hadn’t crawled much further through the sky when the front door crashed open and a young boy tumbled out, the same dark complexion and curled hair as his father.

“Granny Esmer! Granny, the Knight’s awake!” the boy’s energetic voice carried across the open yard loud enough to reach ears the boy should not have alerted.

Well,” Howard sneered, “ye heard the boy. Knight’s in there. We’re goin’ in.”

“No,” said Preston, grabbing the man’s arm again. “Farmer Harper still isn’t back. I don’t like unknown variables. Sounds like the Knight is bedridden, so waiting hurts us none. Wait for the Farmer, and then we go in. I don’t want him to come in and surprise us from the back.”

“Ye damn coward,” Howard said. But he remained in place, rooted in place by the Lady’s orders to obey Preston.

“It won’t be too long,” Preston calmed the man. “We didn’t gain too much time on the man.”

True enough, the farmer came up the road not more than a half hour later. No one had left the house in that time, giving Preston and Howard the advantage.

“Now we go,” Preston said, lifting his rifle. “Careful now.”