Capítulo 7: Chapter 6
The first place we stopped at was a local tavern only a few streets away from the marketplace where my mother had business. This place was owned and operated by a friend of my father's from back in his military days who would buy our extra chickens and whatever eggs we brought at decent prices. It was also the place where we would stay while visiting the city.
Aside from the mesh cages of chickens and small crate of eggs that had been removed, there were still a small crate of bottles containing various plant oils, a cask of curdling goat's milk used to make cheese, and a burlap sack of paper wrapped bundles of dried herbs in the wagon. Tethered to the wagon was also a breeding pair of young goats. The plant oils, like the chickens and eggs, already had a destination to be sold while my parents would have to find buyers for the curds and whey, herb bundles, and the goats.
These were the same things they took to Rama every trip, which actually confused me as a kid. Who in a city would buy a breeding pair of goats? There were plenty of places that could and would process the curdled milk into cheese and powders while there were always buyers for medicinal herbs, but who in the world bought their goats?
Just like in my memories, though, I would never find out who the goats were sold to because I was left at the tavern to wait for them. Previously, I would just wander around the commons listening to the patrons of the taverns talk and laugh or fight among each other. This time, however, I stayed out back with the wagon to watch the tavern owner and his son who was at least twice my age chop wood for the tavern.
The tavern owner, a 'Mr. Hiel', was a large man with an equally large belly despite the evident work ethic and constant work he put in at his place of business. His son was fairly tall and fairly lean, with shoulders broadened by his daily work of chopping and transporting wood. Both of them had dark brown hair and light brown eyes and to this day I had no idea what the mother looked like.
I could only assume she had died or left at some point in their lives.
Mr. Hiel's son, Johan, was a good kid who mostly kept to himself unless he was spending time with the regulars of the tavern. Because of the relation between our fathers, the two of us were often left in each other's care to become friends but the age gap had always been too great for us to relate to one another. Then, of course, my parents had died and I was shipped out of the region to the academy where I never saw either of these two again.
The fact that I was sent to an orphan academy was as much by choice as it was forced on me. Both of my parents were only children and my grandparents on either side either had businesses to run or were still involved with the military. However, Mr. Hiel had offered to take me in and raise me, but when I thought about the training and education of the academy I could use in the rest of my life I opted for the academy.
Thinking about it, now, I probably would have never joined the Guild if I had chosen to live with the relations of my family and, by extension, I would probably have never had this second chance.
Thinking about this second chance reminded me of the emptiness I had created with my parents, but I quickly pulled myself away from those thoughts and walked over to where the father and son were chopping wood. Waiting for Mr. Hiel to finish sectioning his current small log, I ask, "May I chop wood as well? I want the exercise."
Mr. Hiel turned to look at me with a grin, probably about to make a joke about my size and the act of chopping wood, but then he stopped while examining my face. His eyes flicked up and down my body for a moment, stopping briefly at the tightness of my collar around my neck and shoulders. Finally he seemed to shrug to himself before saying, "Sure. Johan, let the boy hold your ax and take a few minutes rest."
Surprised by the sudden change in his father's expression and then answer, Johan walks over from the stump he was chopping wood at and passes me the ax he was using. The ax had a wooden handle only a little longer than one of my arms and ended in a worn steel head that weighed around four pounds. Overall, it was a tool meant for kids or young teens to use.
Even with its small size compared to a normal wood ax, the leverage of the tool would have been too great for me if not for the couple months I had spent developing my strength.
Taking up position at the stump Johan had been using while he went off to take a seat a short distance away, I quickly heft up the ax with one hand under the head and throw it forward while letting the ax slide forward through my hand. Even though my body was not even half the size I was used to, aiming the fall of the ax was still an easy matter. However, producing the strength to split the small log in front of me was an entirely different matter.
Even though the blade of the ax bit several inches into the dry log, the log itself only split a little more than half of the way down. Dealing with that was a simple matter of picking the log up on the ax and smacking it down on the stump. In theory, but in practice the act of raising the ax with the stuck log was a real test of my physical strength.
The long itself was about half the length of the ax handle and as big around as my six-year-old thigh, but since it was dry it weighed a few pounds less than ten. Even with one hand under the head of the ax, I had to raise my other hand higher up the handle to manage its area of balance. Letting the ax just fall and slide through my upper hand was more than enough to finish the log.
Altogether the effort required only a little more strength than what was required to use my wrapped sapling but in the form of something so top-heavy it became an actual ordeal for me. I was rather disappointed in myself. Even though the weight at the other end of my staff increased balance and leverage, if I struggled with something that weighed the same as a human head stuck to the end of my weapon then I still had a long ways to go.
Once the second log was set up, I simply leaned forward into my throwing of the ax to add my weight to the blow and halved the log in the first swing. After I halved half a dozen more similar sized logs from a large stack nearby, I was already sweating so much my belted tunic clung to my skinny body. Now was the time I had to switch to chopping the already halved pieces of logs.
Because these were lighter and easier, I no longer had to test the extent of my balance by putting my weight into the swings. Despite this, my arms were already so tired that picking up the ax just to let it wall was all I could manage. The quarters of wood came out more like thirds and slivers because of this.
When I was done, I signaled to the much better suited Johan that I was done and said my thanks as giving him the ax back. I did, however, need to stop and breathe for about a minute before I could start gathering up the pieces of wood in the crook of my arm. As well as a second trip, and third, then fourth before I had carefully measured and divided the weight of all the wood I chopped.
In their current stressed and worn state, working with so much weight at the very end would hopefully help my arms to heal back with some bulk. Tomorrow, though, I would have to rest and actually let my arms heal. Once I was done picking up my wood, I sat down off to the side where Johan had and just quietly watch them work.
At first, Mr. Hiel and Johan just went back to work, but after about ten minutes Mr. Hiel stopped to wipe his face and in the process did a double-take after seeing me in the corner of his eye. As if he had forgotten I was even there. Even Johan stopped after his father's reaction and glanced over to see me sitting down but his reaction was only to be confused and even a little disappointed.
The only thing here was me.
Mr. Hiel's reaction was not all that surprising, to me, because every other time I had been here both in this life or the last I had spent all my time in the kitchens or in the commons. The kitchen crew and ladies who worked up front who all liked me would sneak me sweet foods from the kitchens and there was always something to watch happen in the commons. This time, though, my adult mind was more curious about these two relations of my family.
Not only would the father be a useful addition to my plans for the future with his own military history which was probably passed down to his son, but I really knew nothing about them. After going to the academy, I never saw these two for the rest of my life. For all I knew, Johan could have been in the military and even fought on one of the many battlefields in the last few years of my life with me.
Because these two knew so little about me, as well, I did not have to worry about acting too much when interacting with them. Which was a blessing, I was not used to acting at all in my last life or living with my parents. Back then, because I had no problem being brutally honest with people, and now because I did not have the luxury of time to make nice or the opportunity.
I had only been here a few months and never left the farm until now.
Status de energia semanal
-- Ranking de
Poder 
-- Pedra de
Poder