Notes: Let's dive a little deeper into Lollop, shall we? Not everything is sunshine and bunnies here...

Title: Quaint Escapes for Traitorous Bastards, Ch. 4 Part 1

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Chapter Four, Part One

Greetings and Salutations

The Yew Brew was packed on market day, every tableand the entire bar taken up by shoppers who needed respite from the sun in theform of good food, plentiful beer, and loud conversation. It took a few momentsfor Hiram to orient himself in the dim light of the interior, but he soon honedin on Mistress Tate sitting in the corner, a flagon in front of her and a fixedexpression on her face as she looked at the heavyset man with hair styled in a tall,blond pouf sitting across from her.

Hiram’s intent to ask Mistress Tate about the man he’s seenin the tailor’s shop fell back in the light of the interaction playing outbefore him. It wasn’t a conversation—conversations generally required the inputof two people. It looked more like a remonstration to Hiram, and for all thathe knew that Mistress Tate was the last person who needed his assistance withanything, Hiram decided it couldn’t hurt to make a nuisance of himself in thename of hurrying things along.

He caught Jonn’s eyes and gestured for a drink, thenproceeded to make his way over to the table, being very careful with his ratherfull bag until he was almost upon them. Then he called out “Mistress!” andswung his bag down to the floor, “accidentally” making contact with the leg ofthe heavyset man’s chair as he did so.

“Watch yourself, churl,” the man snapped. “Now take yourselfaway from here before I have you dragged away.”

Dragged away, eh? Hiram took in the fine weave of thelinen the big man was wearing, embroidered along the sleeves and neckline withcrimson accents across the shoulders as well as the heavy silver chain he woreand concluded that this was a person of relative importance in Lollop.

Luckily for Hiram, he didn’t care. “I’m afraid you have theadvantage of me, sir,” he said politely, moving his back to the side even as hepulled up a spare chair from a nearby table. “My name is Hiram Emblic, I’m newto town, and—”

“I didn’t ask your name!”

“And Mistress Tate has been kind enough to assist me infinding accommodations and learning about my new home,” he continued, sittingdown like he didn’t have a care in the world. Mistress Tate looked amused, buther companion glowered fiercely. “We agreed to meet for lunch, but anotherfriend is always welcome.”

“I am the mayor of this town, I’ll have you know,”the big man said. “And you can either remove yourself from this conversation,or I can remove you permanently from the premises.”

“That’s not up to you,” Mistress Tate said, her amusementfalling away into distaste.

“Lollop has been in my family’s lands for centuries, and—”

“Lollop was in my family’s land for centuries,” shecorrected him swiftly. “You only got access to that title through marriage, andafter my father renounced it, it’s available to none of us.”

That certainly seemed to fluster the fellow, enough that hestammered for a moment before getting out, “That hardly matters! The point isthat I am the elected lord of this town, and—”

“Lords aren’t elected,” Hiram said with false helpfulness. “They’reborn, hence the whole ‘nobility’ thing. Mayors are elected, I’ll grant youthat, but that doesn’t give them the right to rule with an iron fist.” Hesmiled, and it wasn’t exactly a nice look. “Nor does being a lord, to behonest. I’ve seen more than one successful peasant rebellion over the past twentyyears—” he’d put down several of them himself, honestly “—and in theuncertainty of our times, I’d say it’s better to rely on the goodwill of your peoplethan the power that comes from a weak inheritance.”

The mayor goggled at him. “Who the hells are you, anyway?”

“Hiram Emblic.” He held out a hand. “Herbalist.”

His hand was swatted away. “I am Uriel Hurst, the honorablemayor of Lollop and the man you’ll need to go through in order to open up astall on market day.” The look of affront the man wore turned smug. “Which I amhighly disinclined to do at present. If you want to spare the remaining shredsof my good opinion, you’ll leave now.”

“Hmm.” Hiram pretended to think about it. “No, I’d rathernot. I promised Mistress Tate my presence for lunch, and I’d sooner die than goback on my word to a lady of such quality.”

Mistress Tate cleared her throat. “Let me be plain, Uriel. Iwill not be giving up my piece of the sigil to you, nor will I encourage anyoneelse in the family to do so. If my sister complains, tell her to come to meherself. In the meantime, I suggest you leave.”

His face got even uglier. “You’re going to regret this, Tilda.”

“I sincerely doubt it. Now go.”

Mayor Hurst got to his feet, his face flushed red with angerand frustration. As he turned to walk away, he tripped over Hiram’s bag, which wasset on the floor between their chairs. He stumbled over it and went down on hisface, and a ripple of laughter echoed through the crowd.

“You think that’s funny?” the mayor snarled as he got to hisfeet. “You’re a bunch of fools! And you,” he turned back to Hiram, “are thebiggest fool of all.” He reached down and grabbed the bag, then hurled it atthe wall. Produce flew everywhere, and a fine glass jar of honey shattered,leaving a terrible sticky mess dripping down onto the table. And Hiram—

“Steady on there,” he said, reaching out and wrapping hishand firmly around Mayor Hurst’s left wrist. As he gripped, he squeezed,putting the slightest hint of magic into his grip. The mayor gasped andstaggered as a shock of pain ran from his wrist all the way up to his shoulder.“You’re overwrought, sir,” Hiram said quietly. “You’d best leave without anymore fuss and spend the rest of the day relaxing at home, hmm?”

“You—let go of me—”

“Of course, sir.” Hiram let him go and Mayor Hurst gasped asclutched at his wrist, staring at Hiram with slightly wide eyes before turningand barreling his way through the crowd like a drunken troll.

“What a mess,” Mistress Tate said. Her voice was soft buther eyes clearly transmitted her irritation. “Jonn, I’m so sorry.”

Hiram turned to see the proprietor of the Yew Brew standingbehind him. “Not your fault, Mistress,” he assured her. “I ought’ve known he’dcause trouble for you and given you some sort of warning. I’ll get this lottidied up.”

“And I’ll replace your lost stores, Master Emblic,” shesaid, getting to her feet.

“That’s not necessary,” he insisted.

“Nonsense. You’ll go hungry at this rate, and the next marketisn’t for another week.”

Hiram would have put up a bigger fuss, but he was prettysure his friend was looking for an excuse to get out from under the public’seye. He checked his bag and was heartened to see that most of his supplies werefine, but followed Mistress Tate out into the square again. “How about a pasty?”he asked. “They smell divine.”

The fine lines around her eyes eased, and her smile becamemore genuine. “They should, they’re sold be the devotees of Elishia.”

Ah, the patron goddess of crops, livestock, and the methodsfor turning them into various foods. “Then we absolutely must try them.”

They did, and the pasties were in fact delicious, full ofpotatoes and minced meat and a rich gravy that nearly soiled his shirt when abit of it escaped his mouth. They drank more tea, and Hiram let Mistress Tate—“Youmay call me Tilda”—replace the honey before deciding to head home.

“One more stop before you go,” Tilda said, gently turninghim toward the livestock section of the market. “You might as well see some of whatLollop is so famous for, after all.”

“I really don’t care for rabbits,” he protested, sure he’dsee Misha’s in every one of them. He didn’t need a reminder of how thathad worked out in the end.

“They’re very cute, and it will give you a chance to betterknow your neighbors.”

Ah, she had a point there. They headed into a veritablewarren of tight paths, stalls on either side packed with cages of Lollop Grands.Hiram did genuinely admire some of the morphs—there was one that looked like ithad silver flames along its sides, and another that was a deep bluish-violetexcept around its eyes, which were white.

His neighbor’s stall was much like the others, except forthe fact that it had the biggest Grand that Hiram had ever seen out infront of it on a little string. The rabbit, whose head came as high as Hiram’s knee,was calmly nibbling a carrot as the girl behind the stall fed the rest of theirstock. The big one had a strange morph, with alternating splotches of brightorange and dull gray. Fire and ash, Hiram thought fancifully, thensmiled at the girl when she turned around and saw him.

“Good afternoon,” he said.

“Afternoon, sir.”

“Hello, Letty,” Tilda put in. “How is your family today?”

“Fine, ma’am.” The girl bobbed her head. She had shorterhair than most of the girls Hiram had seen so far, and was a tall, sturdybuild. Five younger siblings swarmed behind her, most of them playing a gameincomprehensible to an outsider, but the littlest one pulled at her skirt.Without even looking down, she picked him up and put him on her hip. “Lookingfor a rabbit, sir?” she asked Hiram.

“Just admiring your stock,” he said quickly. “I’ve no usefor a rabbit, I’m afraid.”

“Why not? They’re wonderfully useful creatures,” she said,sounding a bit affronted. “And I know your home has a hutch.”

Useful how? “I’m not in a position to repair it yet,”he said. “So I really can’t have a rabbit.” But if he could… “I like the bigbuck you’ve got out front, though.”

Letty smiled. “That’s our Knight.”

“Night?” Nothing about the morph looked like nightfall.

“No sir, Knight. Like the men in armor. He’s a goodrabbit, sir, always looking out for the babies.”

“Exemplary of him.” Hiram bent down to stroke a hand over Knight’shead, and…oh, he was soft. So amazingly soft. It was almost enough to make himwant the rabbit just so he could nestle his toes against it when they got cold.“Thank you for the introduction.”

“Easier to thank you back after you buy,” Letty said leadingly.

“Not today, I’m afraid.”

She sighed. “No sales since Da went in to drink.”

Oh lovely, her father was off drinking while his childrenran the stall. “Best of luck to you, Miss.”

“Have a good day, Master Emblic.”