The Halfwit Halfling: A Bard's Tale, page 17
“Well, it’s time you learn,” Samuel said, wiping his nose. “Happier the goat, better the meat and milk. Every day we take the goats out on the hills for a few hours. That’s where I need your help. We don’t like using the collars unless necessary, and as you can tell, I’m in no shape to play my flute.”
As soon as I got off the fence, a strong push knocked me down onto my hands and knees. Of course. It was Curry. Rejected by his own kind, he had snuck up on me. Though I felt bad for him, the regular headbutts were getting on my nerves. If he didn’t stop, I’d risk the Pacifist Trait’s debuff and strike back.
Unlike the Nil Mountain Goats, Don proved a much friendlier beast. While the goats shied away whenever I tried to pet them, the boar accepted my ear and head scratches willingly. Soon, I had him eating an apple out of my hand, and not long after, Samuel helped me into the saddle.
To start with, Samuel had Don trail his horse. Still struggling to stay upright atop the boar, I didn’t have it in me to direct him. Once the gates were open, the goats started running after us. They frolicked and bounced downhill as we led them away from the farm’s enclosed spaces. Then, the males broke into a race.
“Once they beat each other, they’ll try to outrun us,” Samuel said. “It’s roundabout now I start playing my flute.”
“I can’t possibly play my guitar and ride at the same time!” I protested.
“Da said you’re a Journeyman. Playing your instrument should come second nature to you. So, focus on your riding and let your hands do what comes naturally to them.”
I tried following Samuel’s advice, but it was easier said than done. Keeping my hand on the fretboard proved difficult. I kept having to let go to grasp Don’s reins.
“Put your trust in Don,” Samuel said. “He’s a good boar. The last thing he wants is for you to fall off. Grip his sides with your knees and feet, and play a damned song. We’ll be out late if the bucks manage to get away.”
Inhaling deeply, I closed my eyes. With Samuel’s horse guiding Don, I had little to worry about. So, clearing my mind of worry, I played a soft melody. I did it more for myself at first. It helped me calm my racing heart and get over the nervousness of riding for the first time.
『
Riding Mastery, unlocked!
You’re no Blood Rider, but at least you’re not falling out of the saddle.
Riding Novice: Rank 1
』
The notification gave me the confidence boost I needed.
“Quick!” Samuel yelled. “If they get out of earshot, your song will do no good.”
He didn’t need to tell me twice. Now that I had the Mastery, I didn’t feel as shaky anymore. In fact, the wind blowing through my hair felt brilliant. So, instead of playing one of my songs, I picked Free Bird. It felt appropriate with my hair flying all over the place—I could get used to riding.
Seeing the goats calm down en masse sent shivers down my spine. It took two whole verses, but I did that. The charging bucks slowed and fell into line with the rest of the flock, and Curry used the opportunity to catch up to the male kids; his legs weren’t as long as theirs.
We crested the hill to find a giant field of tall grass ahead of us. Hilly woodland bordered it, cutting off my view of the horizon. Following Samuel’s instructions, I stopped playing, and we let the goats spread out into the field.
“Aren’t you worried they’ll wander into the woods?” I asked after dismounting. The goats divided themselves into little cliques. One of the bucks immediately made his way to a mound near the treeline. He was so far away I doubted he’d heard my music from where I stood.
“In the wild, lead bucks aren’t used to competing males in the herd. Here, we have six of similar physical prowess. If we weren’t here to stop them, they might fight each other to death for the right to rule. Da says, usually, the weaker ones hang back, mating with the leader’s rejects and help defend against predators, but will never challenge their leader,” Samuel’s eyes lit up as he prefaced his answer with an explanation. I guessed he didn’t get to chat with others on the farm. “The bucks might get curious, but they don’t trust each other to watch the flock. The nannies all have kids. So, they know better than to venture near the woods. Once in a while, one of the younger ones might wander away, but that’s why we’re here. Besides, breaking up fights that’s pretty much all you’ve got to worry about.”
“Then why do we have a pike and bow?”
“Wolves,” he answered. “Once in a while, when they have trouble finding game, the packs will wander east looking for livestock. A couple of times every few months they’ll test the waters, but we’ve not had a proper attack in years.” We headed over to the large tree on the hill. Its shade gave us some respite from the hot mid-morning sun, while the elevation let us keep an eye on the whole flock and our mounts at the same time. “Enough of that. It’s my turn to ask questions. The collars are enough to see us through my sniffles, and Da isn’t a fan of bringing in outside help. Where are you from, and where are you headed?”
“You’re direct, aren’t you?” I laughed unsure whether to answer him honestly or not. Thinking back, Walter seemed to know what had happened in Blacknail’s Table; I didn’t want to get caught in a lie. “I’m just a man trying to make something of myself, that’s all. In all honesty, I spent most of my life in relative safety, unsure of what I want to do with my future. I did what I was told to do, and that was that. Now that I have the freedom to decide, I don’t know what I want from life.”
“You’re hoping to find your way in Eldar’s Port, then?”
“That’s the plan.”
“It’s not the best of places right now,” Samuel said. “There’s a lot of friction between the Merchant’s Guild and the people.”
“Yes, your father was telling me about that,” I replied. “I’m hoping to stay away from all of that. I just want to find some Bardic or Arcane Training, maybe an apprenticeship. Escaping the cappers taught me I don’t know enough of the world to make something of myself. Eldar’s Port might be a mess, but I have to start somewhere.”
Then, I heard a clip-clop behind me. I recognised it straight away but was too slow to attack. Curry headbutted me in the back for the second time in one day. I jumped to my feet, with a fist pulled back, and the kid looked back at me with a challenging stare.
“No,” I told myself when the urge to smack him reared its vengeful head. Breathing deeply helped me stay in control until I no longer saw red. “Is he going to grow out of that?”
“He’s not going to get the chance to,” Samuel said, reminding me of Curry’s destiny. “Most kids don’t have the issue.”
“I can see why you named him Curry.” Looking into the goat’s eyes, I poked his snout. “I’ve never eaten goat, and until now, I never planned to. For this asshole of a kid, I think I’ll make an exception. How old is he?”
“Just under a year. We try to decide between keeping a buck before they’re twelve, at most fifteen months old. After that, they don’t count as kids anymore, and most butchers shy away from adult goat meat on account of its toughness.”
“Do the kids sell well?”
“Our cattle fetch a premium most of the time,” Samuel replied with a hint of pride in his voice. “However, last season, sales were poor. So, Da is branching out a little. He rarely goes as far as Hunter’s Watch. At least this time he sold almost all of what he took with him.”
I didn’t like the look in Curry’s eyes as he backed away. Seeing my reaction, Samuel started chuckling but didn’t come to my aid. We both knew what was happening. In an attempt to evade Curry, I ran around the tree. Much to my disappointment, he had his mind set and took a running start. When the kid knocked me down again, Samuel burst into laughter. I, on the other hand, didn’t think it funny. By bedtime, I’d be covered in bruises.
Chapter 26
It's The Thrill of The Fight
After a week on the farm, Samuel and I developed a good working rhythm and fell into a routine. Walter and his helper, Joe, would wake up before us and milk the goats. Once they finished, Walter would head out with his cart. Then, we would let the goats out and do our morning chores: leading them out to the pastures and bringing them back before sunset. While we were out, Joe would fill the feeding troughs. According to Samuel, the grass wasn’t sufficient food for milk-giving goats, and the male kids needed special diets to improve the flavour of their meat. Walter and Samuel took pride in their product and invested a lot of coin in their livestock.
When out in the pastures, I would have to keep an eye out for Curry’s headbutts. He still managed to get me a couple of times every day, but I managed to evade a good deal of them. Walter expressed his frustration with the kid. Not only was he a handful, but no one would pay the asking price of twenty silver for the runt. Apparently, it was half of what he got for the other male goats. If no one bought him following the trip to Eldar’s Port, Walter planned on slaughtering Curry himself and curing the meat for winter.
During my second week, I noticed something off while the goats were out grazing. Usually, the billies would stick to their section of the fields and occasionally come together to butt heads. It only got out of hand a couple of times, and I settled the matter quickly with a couple of songs. Now, they had all huddled together. The youngest kids got pushed into the middle, with the females in a ring around them. The older male kids stood near the outside of the circle. The billies stood close to each other facing the woods, bleating loudly and stamping the ground beneath them.
“Samuel, the goats are acting weird,” I said, shaking the slumbering goatherd.
“They’re goats,” he replied, batting my hand away. “They’re weird by nature.”
“Not like this, mate. I think there’s something in the woods scaring them.”
He jumped onto his feet straight away and scanned the treeline. The billies were now kicking up chunks of earth and bobbing their horned heads up and down. It looked like they were threatening to charge. Samuel whistled. His horse came over trotting and Don followed hot on the mare’s tail. Despite the species difference, the pair had made their love for each other clear during the week. When left to their own devices, the couple followed each other getting up to no good. Unnatural and disturbing, but supposedly very common on a farm.
Samuel hopped onto his horse and fumbled with his bow as he tried to string it. “Play something mellow,” he told me. “We can’t let the bucks rile themselves up. We need them to be calm.”
“Will you tell me what’s going on, first?”
“Wolves.”
“What manner of wolves can take these monsters down? Look at them. They’re huge!”
“Just play a damned song!”hHe barked, making me jump. “If a billie charges, he’s not going to stop until he hits something or is out of breath, and Nil Mountain Goats don’t easily get out of breath.” He calmed, noticing my wide eyes and erratic breathing. I had warned them about my dislike of violence. “These aren’t ordinary wolves. As long as the flock is together, everything should be fine; but if one of the billies gets into the woods, the wolves will swarm him with ease. Then, there will be a hole in the flock’s defence, and we’ll have panicked kids running amok, getting trampled.”
I didn’t waste any time on song selection. The wind had picked up, and I worried how far the sound would carry. So, something slow was out of the question. I picked a melody with a steady tempo and loud chorus. One of my own, of course. Still, the bucks didn’t settle. They were too far away.
Despite Samuel’s protests, I hopped on Don’s back and rode downhill. Walter hired me for a job, and I intended to see it done to the best of my abilities. I stopped near the foothill when the billies stopped stamping their hooves, tearing up the grass and soil underneath. Still, they kept their guard up. Now calmed, they didn’t let rage or fear cloud their judgement.
Samuel was right. The goats deserved more credit. The billies spread out more evenly and the male kids filled in the gaps between them. Now the flock had a proper line of defence between them and the woods. I didn’t stop playing. Instead, I moved on to a more upbeat song, ‘We are the Champions’. I couldn’t be sure whether the song’s tone made a difference or not, but I wanted to promote unity among the goats.
“You better keep on fighting or it’s going to be the end,” I sang, making the lyrics my own. Sorry for butchering your lyrics, Freddy Mercury. If jovians can grow moustaches, I’ll nurture one in your honour.
Since he had a higher Perception score than me, Samuel saw the wolves first. Nocking an arrow, he rode up to the head of the flock. I saw a sharp focus in his eyes that didn’t suit the man I had befriended over the last week. Samuel drew his bow and loosed. His arrow flew into the woods, and we heard a yelp from within the darkness. He had another arrow nocked moments later.
Half a dozen wolves came running out of the woods together. Samuel wasn’t kidding around. The monsters put Earth’s wolves to shame. The canines weren’t just twice as big, but had sabretooth-tiger-like fangs as well. They broke into two groups after nearing the flock and ran in opposite directions looking for a weak link in the vanguard. Samuel quickly put an arrow in the closest wolf’s left eye. It yelped falling back. The billies charged forward, interrupting the remaining wolves’ sprint. But counter to what Samuel said before, they returned to the defensive encirclement instead of carrying on into the woods. My take on Freddy’s lyrics and melody had turned them into champions after all.
Don grunted shuffling to the side. Following his gaze, I spotted a lone wolf emerging from the trees to my right. It had its eyes trained on me. Unlike Samuel and his horse, Don and I were not one with the flock. Targeting me made sense.
I didn’t dare stop playing my song. If the goats fell into disarray, things could potentially get ugly. Instead, I instinctively dug my heels into Don’s side. With a surprised squeal, he ran towards the assembled goats. The wolf went from careful stalking to sprint straight away. We weren’t going to make it. I could tell. The wolf would catch up to us before we reached the flock. Still, I wasn’t ready to give up.
A loud crack and a yelp sounded from where the bucks made their stand. One of them had managed to catch a big, brown wolf in his charge. The sound made our pursuer jump, but moments later it continued its chase. With every heartbeat, he got closer. I considered dropping Diya and picking up the pike. Don could carry me while I suffered the debuff, but then, the goats might go wild. Without their tight formation, the wolves would probably pick off stragglers and take several kids as their prize.
I tried to regulate my breathing and slow my racing heart, but with the wolf hot on my tail, my efforts proved fruitless. On Earth, I used to call myself a dog person; in my new reality, not so much. I expected my race and traits to make me less of a target, but clearly, there was a lot more to Game World that I didn’t understand. I was moments from reaching the flock when I heard a loud crack and yelp behind me. Don, skid to a halt without my prompting, almost throwing me off his back. We turned around. Curry had charged the monster. The annoying bugger had saved me!
The wolf was getting back on its feet. He wasn’t done. I guessed Curry lacked the bulk to finish it in one blow. Screw it. I had played my guitar just fine with five Control. I could probably do it with half a unit less than that.
Over the last week, I had raised my Riding Mastery to the fourth Novice rank. Samuel called my growth rate ‘too damn high’. Turning Don around, I had the boar charge at the canine and switched to playing ‘Eye of the Tiger’—I did skip the long intro though. My current situation didn’t allow for it. Much to my surprise, knocking the wolf down didn’t earn me the debuff. So, even though I made Don execute the attack, it didn’t count as me directly hurting someone.
Then, Curry turned and charged at the down wolf again. It snapped at his legs when he approached, but the kid skidded to the halt before reaching the beast. Instead, he raised himself up onto his hind legs and stamped down on the wolf’s head with both hooves. My stomach churned, hearing the loud crunch.
The entire herd advanced in unison. They didn’t charge but moved forward as one. The wolves slowed, looking between one another and the trees behind them.
“Keep playing that song,” Samuel yelled. “I’ve never seen the flock behave this way before!”
Nodding, I sang as loud as I could, “It’s the eye of the goat; it’s the thrill of the fight!” man, I don’t know why I changed the words. The goats didn’t very well understand the lyrics.
Excluding the beast that had come for me, four wolves were dead. Out of arrows, Samuel levelled his pike like a lance, couching it between his underarm, and charged at the closest canine. Then, a spine-chilling howl sounded from within the woodland’s darkness.
I held my breath, expecting more wolves to appear out of the trees, but none came. The two surviving members of the daring pack turned and ran back towards the treeline. Samuel didn’t give up his chase and managed to get a glancing blow on his target’s rear leg. It barked in pain but still managed to escape.
Turning his horse around, Samuel rode towards me and pointed up the hill. Understanding what he meant, I nodded. Dropping ‘Eye of the Tiger’, I picked up a sombre melody of my design and within the next minute, the goats followed. Though dusk was still several hours away, we started our trip back to the farm.
“My heart won’t stop racing,” I said, as we followed the herd. After the attack, the herd didn’t need guidance and stuck to the practised path. My music helped, of course, but after my week of playing for them, I understood it didn’t take away their free will altogether. “How do you manage that alone?”
“I don’t,” he answered. “Often Da or Joe join me on my outings. Today was something else. Even with me on the flute, the flock never behaves the way they did. Not only were they calm, but the bucks were communicating and coordinating with one another.”
