The Sword Maiden

A Clock and a Well

But what still hadn't been explained to us was the giant clock in the center of the town.  I refrained from interrupting Mr. Lotcin, who was not yet done with his story.  

"The Mayors' stopped trying to take advantage of us that much.  Whole periods of peace would be ours.  But every once in awhile they still try it.  And we enjoy our nice Sabbatical, as we call it." 

Redwar tapped his fingers.  "All well and good, Mr. Lotcin.  But haven't the Tales' tried other... ways of getting you to cooperate?"

Mr. Lotcin shrugged.  "A couple.  They've tried hiring some men to force us, but they never had enough.  And generally speaking they don't know how to defend themselves against a pickaxe either."  He chuckled at that.  

Redwar kept tapping his fingers.  "They've never tried taking over the wells?"

Mr. Lotcin's head shook.  "No.  We've had ones a lot meaner than this'n and none of 'em have tried it."  

Redwar was still not convinced, and it showed clearly on his face.  Frankly, I wasn't either.  

"Sir, I know it must seem odd to you, but please, we're a town that can handle our own matters."  Mr. Lotcin politely put aside his fears.  

Redwar nodded once.  "I suppose you'd be right about that, Mr. Lotcin.  It is, after all, your town."  

"That it is.  Time's Tale ain't much, but it is ours, just like our father's intended for it to be."  

Because I knew Redwar,  I could see he wasn't going to let the matter of the wells go that easily.  But on the other hand, he wouldn't press the issue with Mr. Lotcin.  

"Would you tell us why you named the town Time's Tale?"  He asked instead.  

"Sure.  Ya see, it's part of the system the Ravagerian suggested.  The Mayors are called the Tales, 'cause they're always the ones 'causing the trouble and thus making 'tales' of time.  As you know, this here tavern is the only one in town and is owned by the Times."  

"This here tavern is the place where the people meet to figure out our problems, whether it's how much to pay for grain this year or disciplining a Tale."  He grinned.  "The tavern is a place where we meet and where we plan.  No Tale is welcome in here, and there ain't been one in here in about 150 years.  Unless you count the spies they've sent."  

I smiled at this.  

"And the clock?  Does that have anything to do with all of this?"  Redwar finally asked the question.  

"It does, in a way.  It's a symbol, a reminder, to us and to our children.  A reminder to the Tales to not try to take more than what is their due, and to rule the people fairly.  And a reminder to us to not let the Tales take over.  Plus, it's practical.  You didn't get ta hear it today, because some repair work was bein' done to one of the bells, but the bells will toll at the start of each mining shift.  You can hear it clear in the mines, and so that's how we know when it's time to come up or go down."  

"Bells?"  Valeria and I asked the same question.  I'd never heard of bells in a clock. 

He grinned.  "You'll get to hear it tomorrow."  

He looked out the tavern window and swallowed the last of his beer.  "It's gettin' late, so I'll be headed home now."  

He and Redwar stood. 

 "Thank you for your time, Mr. Lotcin, you cleared a lot of things up for us."  Redwar shook his hand.

"My pleasure, Mr. Volan, my pleasure."  Mr. Lotcin nodded to each of us before he lumbered out of the tavern.