Notes: Let's get to know the little town of Lollop, hmm?

Title: Quaint Escapes for Traitorous Bastards: Chapter One, Part One

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Chapter One, Part One

Ga-Lollop-Ing Into Town

At first glance, Hiram had to admit that Lollop wasn’t allthat prepossessing. Maybe it was because they’d taken the side road instead ofthe Imperial vein that ran in from the north—safety first, after all—or maybethey’d just happened upon the less-developed part of the village, but the firsthouse Hiram saw as he looked out from his perch on the wagon was decidedly rundown. It had a massive but entirely overgrown garden in the back, complete withwhat looked like a rotting wooden arch weighed down with dead grape vines, andin the side yard was a rabbit hutch without a roof. The house itself was missingits back door, and half the shutters had fallen off their hinges.

It was, in a word, shabby.

“Niceplace you chose to plant yourself.”

“Why thank you,” Hiram said, keeping his tone light as theyambled past the old house and down the rutted road.

“Very…rustic.”

One of their back wheels dipped into a slightly deepergroove, and Mule had to dig his heels in to get them out. “I agree.”

“Youmight even call it ‘miserable renegade chic.’”

Hiram laughed. “How many miserable renegades do you thinklive in this little village? Liira told me it’s only got about five hundredinhabitants.”

“It’sgot at least two now.”

He shook his head. “I’m not miserable, Phlox. And neitherare you.”

“I am.”

“Oh, you’re not.”

There was a little huffing sound from the earring. “You don’t know how I feel.”

“Well, I know that compared to what you could befeeling right now, you’re having an absolutely amazing time,” Hiram said. “Orhave you forgotten all the nonsense that happened at the conjunction?”

“Youonly bring that up when you know you’re going to lose an argument,”Phlox mumbled, but quieted down afterward.

Hiram was glad. In all honesty, he was feeling a little bit…well…antsyabout his decision to move to Lollop. It was a small farming town smack dab inthe center of Oribel, the smallest of the Empire’s collection of kingdoms andthe most resolutely dedicated to growing grain over training soldiers. Oribelwas the breadbasket of the Vordurian Empire, and its ruling family hadabsolutely no plans of changing that. They liked their heads where they were,thank you.

The remoteness was the selling point, though, wasn’t it? Noone would ever think that a wizard of the first class would abandon thedelights of Galenish for a ramshackle town in the middle of the leastinteresting nation for a thousand miles. It was the perfect place for rest,relaxation, and settling into a new way of life. Hiram needed the last morethan he could say; certainly more than he’d been able to express to theemperor.

Some messages couldn’t be spoken, though. They had to be experienced.

I doubt he killed anyone over it. Hiram had been verycareful not to implicate anyone else in the capitol in his escape plan. Almosteveryone he loved there had been gone, and the few people who remained hadunimpeachable characters and enough personal power that even Andurion wouldthink twice about going after them.

Hiram felt his heartrate speeding up. Seven gods, every timehe thought of his old life, it felt like every organ in his body wanted to jumpright out of his skin. It’s all right now. It’s all right. We’re safe,everyone is safe. We’re free. Free, and almost to the town proper, if therooftops up ahead were any indicator. Hiram smiled as he took in the neatthatched homes—no slate or tile rooftops here, of course, not with all the strawto be had. Each house had its own little vegetable garden, and some of them hadpens for livestock; mostly pigs, cows, and chickens.

And, of course, rabbits. Every house had a rabbit hutch anda patch of land dedicated to the bunnies they were raising. The Lollop Grand, alarger breed than most, heavy-bodied and with huge variations when it came totheir fur color and markings, were the one thing that put this place on themap. They were good for meat, for fur, and some of them—those with the most fantasticmarkings—even became posh pets for the children of the upper class back in Galenish.Misha had had one when she was a little girl, a rabbit half as big as she waswith velvety blue fur and everywhere but its paws and nose. Those had beenbright white. She’d loved it so much she’d even walked with it during parades,to the coos of thousands of watchers.

Thinking about Misha settled Hiram’s heart right down, andby the time he’d gotten to the center of Lollop he felt ready to find the womanLiira said would have a house to rent him. Not that he knew exactly where shewas, but if there was one thing he did know, it was that taverns werethe social centers of every city quarter, and a small town wasn’t muchdifferent from that. And bless his little woolen socks, there was a tavernright there, with a surprisingly new sign hanging above the door that read, inbright white script, Fuzzle Pinky’s Drinkies.

Huh. Must be Gnomish. They always have to rhyme. Hiramtugged the reins a bit, drawing Mule to a halt. As he descended from the wagon,he could feel eyes on him—that was something he didn’t need magic to detect,not in a place like this. He knew what they saw when they looked at him.

A traveler. A stranger. Perhaps someone just a bit…odd. Hiramhad done his best to grow his beard out, and his hair was more salt than pepperthese days—nothing like the famous descriptions of him, all “raven-locked” and “fairof face.” He was on the tall side for a human, but that didn’t mean much in aworld where elves and serpentkin walked the streets. He was in nondescript clothes,a simple tan tunic that laced up the front and black leggings that flared a bitover the top of his boots, with a thick wool cloak around his shoulders andneck…which, whew, it was getting hot. He’d have to pack that up soon.

All in all, the only thing of interest about him was hisshiny earring, and even that would slip right out of sight just a second afterit was noticed thanks to Phlox’s anti-detection array. Hiram had done his bestto make himself look like just another traveler, and he thought he’d done adecent job.

Now, to see if he could make himself look like someone whowanted to put down roots.

He loosely tied Mule’s reins to the post out front, thenstroked the beast’s silky nose careful to dodge when Mule tried toaffectionately headbutt him. “You trying to kill me?” Hiram asked with a smile.“Stay here for a few minutes, all right? I’ll be out soon.” He turned, catchingthe eye of a man across the street wearing an apron and holding a rather longrazor blade in his hand.

City watch? Ha, no, what city? Let’s see…full leatherapron, hair tied back, full coverage despite the heat…doctor. Or barber. Or both.Hiram nodded companionably, then headed into the tavern.

He was immediately welcomed by a small Gnomish man the colorof a green oak board, wearing in a bright red longshirt nipped in at the waistwith a half apron. “Welcome to The Yew Brew, sir,” he said, inclining his head.“I’m Jonn, the tavernkeeper. What’ll you have today, then?”

The Yew Brew, huh? Well, that made more sense given theenormous evergreen tree behind the place, but… “I confess, I expected to meet aFuzzle Pinkie,” Hiram said.

Someone in the back of the tavern laughed. The proprietor’sface took on a slightly strained look. “It’s…a temporary designation, sir. Just—”

“He lost a bet to his wee son!”

“Shut up, Robard!” Jonn called out grumpily. “Ignore him, he’sa bit into his cups,” he went on. “Now, sir, we’ve a fine spread for supper cookingin the back, though it’s a bit early for serving yet, and a good selection ofales and ciders. What’ll you—”

“Lad don’t even come up as high as yer knee!”

Jonn sighed. “Robard, please, I’m trying to talk to thisgentleman here.”

There was a scratching sound against the floor, like a chairbeing noisily pushed away from a table, then a thump-thump-thump, and amoment later what looked like five bird’s nests stuck together poked itself outfrom behind the wall that separated the entryway from the main room. Hiramcould just make out the tip of a rounded nose beneath the strands. “Huh. Don’tlook much like a gentleman,” the dwarf—probably a very drunk one, given how he’dlet his hair go—muttered. “Eh, don’t matter. Aye, Jonny here made a bet withhis boy that if the lad could memorize all his letters in a week, he’d let thelad rename the Brew!”

“Only for one day a week,” Jonn said, a faint flush risingin his cheeks. It made them look like little apples. “And I didn’t think he’dactually manage it.”

“But he did, got his teacher to help him special an’everything! And he wanted to name the place after his stuffed bunny, who—guess itsname!”

“Fuzzle Pinkie?” Hiram hazarded.

“Aye, good on ye! Fuzzle Pinkie, a stuffed rabbit who nowowns the tavern a day a week because Jonny’s got a heart as soft as apussywillow for his wee lad.” Robard the dwarf slapped his knee and bent overat the waist, he was laughing so hard.

“It’s only one day a week!” Jonn protested a bit moreloudly. “And—never mind, I’m done with your for now, you old block. Go back to yourchair and finish your pint, hmm? Darla will be here for you soon.” He refocusedon Hiram with an almost manic determination. “Now! What can I get for you, sir?”

Hiram had mercy on the poor gnome. “A pint of beer, and thelocation of a person if you’ve got it,” he said.

Robard came fully into the entryway. He was an old dwarf, fullywhite haired and with a belly well out past his feet, but he still carried anaxe on his back. An axe that he was reaching for now, actually. Ah. Notgood. “A bounty hunter, eh?” he growled. “Come hunting up old Robard atlast, then? You won’t find me easy to take!”

“I’m not looking for you,” Hiram said while Jonn ditheredwith a panicked expression. “I’m looking for someone name Raileene Shore. I wastold she might have a house to rent.”

Both of them went completely still.

What did I say?