Between The Crystals

Ch 102 The Pottery Cart

Thankfully, I didn't have to sit at the Guard Station and stew in my rambling thoughts for long. A shimmer appeared by the crystal as Weylan returned, kneeling beside two large sheep and a knee-high carry net of greens. A couple of my hunters jogged over to help the elderly porter to his feet.

Like every other sheep the farmer had offered, the bit of blood on the wool was dry, so they hadn't been recently killed. I wondered how many sheep were in the farm preservation units.

"Mind moving those beside my chair?" Weylan asked the hunters.

They obliged as he walked over to his rocking chair and sat down heavily.

"How are you doing?" I asked him.

"Tired, but Mark said any porter is welcome to join him there, so I'll start making this a daily event."

A voice echoed out of the cave. "And what if they trap you on that farm?"

Weylan glanced at the dark entrance. "And what if they do? Better me than another porter. And as I've clearly been told by the cooks, at my age, I'm expendable."

I shot him a startled look, as did my hunters. What? Who would tell anyone such a thing, much less a porter? A variety of unintelligible spluttering and stuttering sounds came out of the cave shadows; some sounded like shock while others sounded like broken off what's, but's, and if's.

Unperturbed, Weylan continued his calm one-sided discussion. "So, instead of eating rations that others would rather not share with me, I now have a way to bring food to the village like I used to be able to do. If they're worried about a tracker, they can butcher it in an abandoned village."

As if reinforcing his decision, he plucked a stem of clover from the carry net by his chair and nibbled on it. The cave entrance finally went silent. My hunters watched in idle amusement, although the other guards were busy staring at the desert in an attempt to avoid getting dragged into the conversation.

I cleared my throat. "Since you're back, I'll take my leave. Thanks for keeping an eye on the stuff for me."

He nodded contentedly as he ate another leafy stem. "No problem. No problem at all."

The elderly porter continued rocking in his chair as my group gathered around me. Leaving all the food behind for Merryl or Roxanne, I ported the cart and seven volunteers back home. The air hazed around us, and as it cleared, the villagers surged forward to push the cart away.

I evaded the crowd and went over to Grant, who had been at the Oasis the last time I'd brought the cart back to unload logs.

"I have some ports left. Does Irwin Village still want help moving wood and pottery to the firing pit?"

He nodded and flipped through his notes. "Yes. They have it in carts and are hoping to set everything up before nightfall. Once it's dark enough to hide the smoke, they can start the fire. Make sure you port to the Catseye Mural crystal and not the old one in Irwin Village by accident."

"After a fifteen-minute rest, I presume?" I asked impishly.

"Do you really expect me to believe that you rested between your last ports?"

"Hey!" I exclaimed in mock outrage. "I rested at least five minutes!"

He shook his head in good humor. "Anyone else would be flat on their back by now."

"Give them a year of pushing their limits, and you could have a lot more fun with your supervision duties."

He shuddered lightly. "If you're trying to give me nightmares, it's working."