Chapter 4: Deep in the Dungeon, We Found a City

Chapter 4:
Deep in the Dungeon,
We Found a City

 

THIS WAS MY THIRD TIME entering a natural cave that had become a dungeon, the first two being our runs on that basilisk nest. I’d say the biggest difference this time was the total lack of illumination. We walked in utter darkness; it was pretty tricky.

The first part of the cave was a big open area, wide enough to fit that sleeping wyvern, but a few dozen yards beyond, the walls suddenly narrowed and the interior branched off into several small passages. No light by moon or star could penetrate these narrow corridors.

“Wouldn’t it have been better to come in during the day? This place could use a little sun…” I said.

Nishka shut me down right away. “Are you stupid? At night your eyes can get used to the dark, and then you can see what’s around you better.”

Wak’wakgoro nodded in agreement.

Sure, I knew your eyes adjusted to the dark when you stayed there for a while…but that still didn’t add up to me. Wouldn’t you notice way more details at literally any time during the day? Maybe the others were so comfortable with mere starlight because they weren’t human; after all, Nishka was a long-ear and Wak’wakgoro was a goblin. Or maybe it was just something they’d picked up from hunting since they were kids.

“This tunnel has been carved out pretty recently.”

“You’re right. The walls are still soft. And there’s no discoloration.”

Nishka and Fuzzball both brushed their fingers over the walls of the cave. I had seen Mari and Yoi do the same thing in the basilisk cave. I followed along now; I didn’t want to miss a single piece of info if I could avoid it.

“So,” Elpaco mused, “do you think the minotaurs widened the passage?”

“It’s possible. Or it could’ve been some kinda monster. Considerin’ how hard this rock is, I’m betting on the minos.”

I had always thought this kind of stonework was patented and licensed exclusively by dwarves. But now that I thought about it, minotaurs were renowned as the lords of labyrinths. Hell, maybe they started working on this cave in order to build one.

I could barely see where I was walking, so I fell in behind Nishka, constantly checking to make sure the ground beneath my feet was solid. Every now and then, she would touch me to give me a signal. It warmed my heart that I had gotten hold of pants to cover my lower body, but—except for my lightweight vest—my upper body was still almost entirely exposed. Which (oh no, how awful) meant that every time she did that, I was getting a little skin-to-skin contact with one Nishka the Scalesplitter.

My heart pounded against my ribs. Because, uh, the dungeon. It wasn’t the oh-so-slight chill in Nishka’s fingertips.

I kept moving forward, these ridiculous thoughts tumbling through my mind, until Nishka’s whole palm landed firmly on my abdomen. This time her touch wasn’t gentle. It suggested that she had spotted something up ahead.

“Wak’wakgoro, watch the back.”

“Right.”

“Shooter, you come with me. Stay low like I am. Girly-pup, you’re our backup.” Nishka issued these rapid-fire orders in a low voice and, ever ready for an unintentional surprise encounter, took out her machete and grabbed my hand.

Wak’wakgoro showed his veteran skill, raising a spear in one hand to guard the rear approach on full alert. Elpaco, who was pouting pretty nastily at the girly-pup snark, still obeyed Nishka and readied his shortbow. He held a reserve of arrows in the same hand as his shortbow, ready to be unleashed in a torrent at any moment. As for Nishka and I, we formed a two-man infiltration cell and pressed on down the passage.

As we advanced through the cave, it occurred to me how wrong I was, thinking of this hideout like an anthill. It made almost no sense for a group of bull-kin to be living in such a cramped space, so…what was it, then? What was I missing?

Nishka came to an abrupt stop, lowering her head as much as she possibly could to peer farther ahead.

“Found ’em. There’s a bull-kin passed out over there,” Nishka whispered, her voice barely more audible than a breath. She quickly switched places with me and I squinted toward the other side of the cave. Just as I was about to poke my head out, Nishka shoved my head down firmly. Signal received—I stayed low.

From that vantage, I finally caught sight of a person with the head of a bull who, while not quite as tall as an ogre, was stacked with enough muscles to rival Gimul, or even that adventurer, Dyson. They were asleep, snoring faintly, and their clothes were unexpectedly fine. Nicer than anything I’d worn in this world, at the very least. Not only that, they were actually lying down in a bed with a little blanket pulled over them.

I’d pictured these bull-kin as ogre-like barbarians, but they were clearly way more advanced than that.

I drew my head back, which allowed Nishka to advance almost brazenly down the passageway. She looked back and waved at me to follow. I exchanged looks with Elpaco and signaled to Wak’wakgoro, who was even farther back, then proceeded into the hall.

I had been sure I wouldn’t be able to see anything in this darkness, but now I realized that, strangely, my eyes had started to adjust after all. I could make things out pretty well! Including that bull-headed apeman lying sound asleep, a trickle of drool hanging from his mouth.

If she’d wanted to, Nishka could have murdered the bull-kin with ease, but the village chief was expecting us to rack up laborers, not a kill count.

We crawled slowly forward a while longer, then Nishka once again held up a hand to stop me in place…against my bare stomach. I really wish she’d stop doing that. Or was it that I really wished she would never, ever stop doing that?

“I dunno what’s beyond here, but the echoes are gettin’ worse.”

“What does that mean?”

“We’re lookin’ at a big, open cave through here.”

“Like in the basilisk dungeon?” I asked, recalling the underground lake where I had protected Basil.

“Probably. I can hear people doin’ stuff. Doesn’t sound like soldiers.”

“Do you think it’s the minotaurs?”

“She’s right—I hear it, too,” whispered Elpaco.

I still couldn’t hear squat, but Nishka and Fuzzball locked eyes in understanding.

Nishka inched forward cautiously then stopped again and peered ahead. Figuring it couldn’t hurt to try, I too squinted into the darkness…and practically stumbled back in shock.

The ceiling of the cave arched—carved by tools—over an entire city. Rows of houses lined the cave, meticulously constructed from blocks of clay or stone—couldn’t tell you which—showing distinct signs of an intricate culture. Every wall in sight was adorned with vibrant, moonlit decorations.

These people were nothing like the ogres. Hell, they were more sophisticated than our own villagers. At a glance, I counted between fifty and seventy houses, at the center of which rose a much larger building.

When we’d set out, we had expected to find a few dozen people. But judging from the number of houses, the population of this settlement—no, it really was a proper city—was profoundly larger than that.

There were small family gardens. Light spilled through the windows of each home. The boisterous laugh of a group of bull-kin rose musically from some distant corner of the city.

“They speak the same language we do,” Nishka noted.

I nodded, remembering myself, and added, “There’s way more of them than we thought there’d be. Probably a couple hundred, at least.”

Wak’wakgoro and Elpaco both gazed out at the subterranean city, their jaws gaping.

Even though the city was more compact than our village, it was clearly at the same level of technological advancement and cultural complexity as any aboveground settlement. Were we really going to capture some of these people and put them to work? Not only would it be hard, but…I mean…

“I’ve seen enough,” I said. “Let’s head back.”

“Do you see those dogs over there? These people have dogs. We should get out of here quick,” said Nishka.

“Yeah.”

Elpaco’s animal ears twitched deftly in response to Nishka’s observation.

We retreated immediately.

We’d come looking for burly minotaurs. So, let’s figure that half of the two to three hundred people in that city were males and that half of those were adults. At least fifty. Just as a guess.

Now let’s look at our village: If we counted up every hunter and adventurer we had, we would barely reach twenty people. Even if we assumed the village chief and the rest of the leadership could manage a little fighting, that would just barely put us at even numbers.

This was too much.

Nishka led us quickly through the cavern.

We passed through the room where we discovered the snoozing minotaur, but apparently the bull-kin man had turned onto his other side and was now asleep facing away from us. The guard for this path into the city, probably. I stole a cautious glance at him and saw that he, too, wielded a broadsword—that weapon so popular in this world—though it was propped against a wall as he slept on the job.

Once we darted through the guardroom, Nishka’s pace quickened even further.

“I had no idea the cave had turned into this! Even after my forty years, I guess there are still things I don’t know about this forest,” Wak’wakgoro whispered as he walked noiselessly down the passageway. “They didn’t build a city like that overnight. Maybe they saw the wyverns weren’t comin’ to the cave anymore so they decided to link their cave up to this one.”

“Could be. But how are we going to explain this to the village chief?” I asked.

“We just gotta tell her exactly what we saw. Nishka’s no good for that, so that’ll be up to us, Shooter.”

Nishka snorted loudly and turned away, as if Wak’wakgoro had injured her pride. “Hey, I can wordicate with the best of ’em. Come on, man!”

“No, I think we better let Shooter tell her. Unlike you, he’s a learned man.”

“Hmph. He’s an illiterate reject from some buck-naked clan!”

Wow. Cool, Nishka.

“Well, since you’re from a tribe of steppe barbarians, what choice do we really have?”

Elpaco gasped. “You come from a barbarian tribe, Nishka?”

“That’s right,” I cooed. “Her tribe eats wyverns raw, so you better be careful not to make her angry!”

“I am not a barbarian!”

“Aww, gonna fly into one of those barbarian rages?” Yep, she was a barbarian through and through!

 

Once we made it out of the cave, we met up with Camulla and Cassandra.

Camulla took Wak’wakgoro aside to discuss something with him while I anxiously moved to Cassandra’s side.

“What’s the matter, Shooter?”

“We found a city of bull-kin at the other end of the cave. It’s really well built and there are a ton more people living there than we thought.”

“A…city? Not just a settlement?”

“What they’ve got going on in there is way fancier than some piddly settlement. Some pretty ritzy houses too, way nicer than a load of village huts. In fact, how attached are you to our hut? How do you feel about having hornier neighbors?”

Cassandra pouted, looking a little miffed. “I was worried about you, you know. You shouldn’t tease me.”

“I know, I know. I’m fine. Promise.” How was she so cute even when she was irked at me? How did I land a gal like her?

(Uh…forced marriage, I guess.)

Soon, we were hurrying down the road to report our findings to the village chief as quickly as possible. I couldn’t wait to see what she decided to do. No way would she stick with that initial plan now—not when the minotaurs spoke the same language as us. We might even be able to negotiate with them and hell, even if that was off the table, the village chief would surely understand that we could not take these guys.

Maybe the village chief could try to assert ownership rights to the land and try to collect taxes—she could at least hold discussions to establish borders.

Even if she didn’t think of those options off the top of her head, I had to at least suggest them. The more alternatives we had to war, the better. Because even if every single person in the village went to hunt down the clan of bull-kin, there would be an intolerable number of casualties. It wouldn’t be worth it at all.

With these thoughts tumbling through my mind, the six of us hurried down the road toward the stone tower, guided by its steady lantern.

 

***

 

We reached the village just before dawn. When we called at the village chief’s manor, all of her servants were asleep, but it was urgent—we banged on the door to the entrance hall over and over again until the usual servant girl appeared, rubbing her eyes sleepily.

I had seen this girl any number of times now, but she always seemed a little freaked out by me. However, when she caught sight of Wak’wakgoro, gorgeous Camulla, and Nishka, something convinced her this was important.

She didn’t say much, but she hurried to the back of the house to wake Gimul, and soon after the village chief herself appeared, looking like an exhausted wreck. We were led to the village chief’s office, where she sat in her own personal armchair.

At first, she dismissed our report entirely.

“What? The bull-kin have built a city at the heart of the cave?”

“I don’t know how they got labeled as barbarians,” I said, “because they have a very advanced culture.”

“Ah, I see that you haven’t given up this ridiculous joke of yours, this secret civilization of amazing bull-kin. And I suppose they can fly, and shoot lasers from their eyes. Fart gold, too?”

“Unfortunately, this isn’t a joke, ma’am.”

“So you’re telling me,” she said, rubbing her eyes, “that there really is a city in that cave?”

“I don’t come from this area, so I don’t know exactly what qualifies as a city or a town, but they’ve built tons of houses that are way nicer than the thatched roofs and mud walls of our village. They’ve also decorated their walls with colorful designs. That sounds like a civilization to me.”

“Designs, hm?”

The village chief eyed me suspiciously, but neither Wak’wakgoro nor Nishka interrupted me even once. They had seen the same things I had.

Fuzzball merely stood by, his expression completely empty and his thoughts as unreadable as ever. He didn’t deny what I said, either. Gah, he was so cute, it was a bit of a shame that he wasn’t a girl. W-wasn’t it? I mean, it wasn’t a shame, or no, I mean…uh, look, it was confusing.

“As you may know, culture doesn’t develop unless people have surplus energy for their minds.” As an almost-archeologist, I knew a decent amount about how civilizations developed. “Meaning that all these minotaurs are leading lives that afford them plenty of surplus. Their world is stable. They have leisure time. As far as we could see, even though night had fallen, their houses were lit. We heard laughing, conversation, bull-kin socializing late into the night.”

“You’re saying they’re well-off enough that they can just…waste oil to stay up late and laugh?”

“Yes, ma’am. I realize it isn’t my place to say so, but oil is so precious for us that once the sun sets, we go to sleep not long after. Even for you, our village chief, candles and lantern oil are luxuries, correct?”

“Hmph!”

I glanced over at Wak’wakgoro and Nishka. Nishka huffed through her nose, suggesting she agreed with me.

“That’s true. And according to these two,” Wak’wakgoro continued, “the minotaurs were speaking the same language as us. Meaning that we could potentially come to an understanding with them.”

“So they even understand our language? But…hmm. If their culture is really so advanced, I suppose that only makes sense…”

“I would say at a rough estimate, there were maybe two, three hundred of them. Enough to take us on if we tried to fight.”

“Are you telling me this is your instinct as a warrior, Shooter?”

The village chief stared at me as if this were some kind of test. Her fingers toyed with the collar of her negligée, like she was…nervous. Everything I’d seen of her was the very definition of a warrior, but everyone in the room was focused on me as if I were the only real fighter on hand.

In reality, I was more of a part-time warrior—not really a warrior at all by the standards of Earth, in my humble opinion. But I used to do karate, so I was okay in one-on-one combat, I guess. And I had performed well enough with katas to win third place at a regional competition.

The village chief kept looking at me with a stony expression, so I summoned up my assessment. “Well, given the population we estimated based on the number of houses we saw, as I said, we can assume they have around three hundred people. Half of those would be men, and I’d estimate another half of those would be men capable of fighting. That’s seventy, at least. Even if we called up every single combat-capable person in this village, those seem like steep odds to me.”

Every now and then, the village chief looked at me with this stern expression. She’d used it when she imprisoned me in the stone tower, too, but I didn’t think the look meant anything bad. It showed a kind of trust, I thought.

You see, I used to be a manager at a convenience store. I worked part-time at one of the corporate-owned ones, to be specific, so when they built a new franchise location, they picked me to be part of the initial staff. The up-and-coming manager was a woman about the same age as me, and she had a similar air to the village chief.

Working on that initial staff was brutal. Thing was, though half the staff were battle-tested veterans with work experience, the other half were people who’d never worked in a convenience store before. When I asked the manager and the support staff of the main company why they’d hired people with no relevant experience for an opening, they all told me the same thing: “We want people who haven’t been influenced by other companies’ policies.”

That is, they wanted people they could mold into whatever they wanted.

When the other manager put the young college or high school students through training, teaching them the basics of having a part-time job and running a convenience store, she would always stare straight into their eyes. She did this partly to make sure they didn’t brush her off because she was a woman, and partly so the kids wouldn’t dare to look away from her.

I don’t think she was a day over twenty-five at the time, but she still taught me a lot of valuable lessons, despite the fact that I was busy goofing off doing low-paying side-jobs. Most importantly, she taught me to look someone in the eyes while talking to them.

I returned the village chief’s gaze as solemnly as I could and, very suddenly, she blushed ever so slightly and glanced away.

I felt Cassandra, who was standing beside me, grab my vest. Hard. What? Hold on, had I done something wrong?

“Gimul! How many warriors can we muster from our territory?” the village chief asked.

“But ma’am!” I thought I’d explained why capturing and enslaving the minotaurs was impossible. Had I failed to convince her?

Her tone hardening slightly, she called to her stepson in annoyance. “Gimul. I asked you a question.”

Gimul nodded. “At the top of the list I’d put Shooter, then the five warriors living in this manor. Putting together all the people with past experience as adventurers or soldiers, and adding in all the hunters in the surrounding settlements, we might get up to about thirty people. If we include the active-duty adventurers we brought to the village, that would increase our numbers, but adventurers work on a contractual basis, so if they refuse…”

“We have less than half the forces they do, then.”

“Ma’am, you can’t seriously be considering…” Gimul was at a loss for words, staring down at his stepmother as she mulled the problem.

The village chief dismissed him and turned to Wak’wakgoro and Nishka. “Have you ever heard anything that suggests bull-kin are talented with bows?”

“They must have hunters of their own. But there ain’t many people as good as Nishka the Scalesplitter, ma’am,” Wak’wakgoro replied, choosing his words carefully.

“He he. You can rest easy on that score.” And wouldn’t you know it, Nishka just had to take the opportunity to brag.

I was increasingly afraid the village chief was actually going to go for this. Did she have some kinda secret weapon?

“Hmm…” the village chief murmured. “How can we do this…”

Finally, she looked back up at me.

I gulped, a thick knot in my throat. I was filled with trepidation, wondering what on earth she might suggest. My wife trembled beside me. Sneaking a sideways glance at her, I saw she was looking at me anxiously.

On Cassandra’s other side, Elpaco stared quietly into space, his face unreadable. His mouth was slightly open and his animal ears twitched subtly, as if they were moving on their own.

“Shooter!” the village chief said.

“Y-yes?”

“If you were on your own, how many bull-kin would you be able to handle in a fight?”

“B-by myself? That’s hard to say. With ordinary humans, if I caught them by surprise and didn’t make any mistakes, I could subdue three or four. Any more than that, and all I’d be able to do is buy time with my staff.”

“I see. There’s a reason you’re the village’s best warrior!”

Yeah, your best part-time warrior, I thought to myself.

The village chief gave a curt nod and pushed herself up from her armchair. “I’ve made my decision.”

“S-so then, are we to attack? Despite what Shooter and the others have said?” Gimul put up a feeble argument, his face uncharacteristically pale for such a mountain of a man. Gimul did have a bit of an Oedipal complex, after all. He was probably terrified that something might happen to his stepmother. Plus, since our heart-to-heart in Bulka, he had started toadying up to me.

Or, wait, was he trying to take my side?

I was stuck in my moment of genuine shock when the village chief chuckled and looked me in the eye once again.

“Make no mistake. We fight.”

“You can’t be serious—that would be a lost cause…”

“The king himself has granted us this land in Apegut Forest. We will not yield this territory to anyone. I inherited this duty from my husband, and I will do everything in my power to protect it until I pass it on to you, Gimul.”

“But Shooter just told us we have no chance of victory in battle.”

“Do you think so little of us, son? We need not shed blood to win a battle. Diplomacy, properly deployed, is its own form of warfare.” The village chief grinned cheerfully and smacked Gimul on his muscular back. “We’ll head for the lake as soon as day breaks. We’ll take the bull-kin by the horns and bring them to the negotiating table!”

Now it made sense: I’d read in a book once that warfare was nothing more than a tool for negotiation. Now I finally understood what that meant. I smiled—this was an approach I could admire, a strategy I could support—but it seemed that Wak’wakgoro and Nishka didn’t quite understand what was going on. Meanwhile, my wife looked as uncomfortable as ever, and meanwhile again, Elpaco’s expression was implacably neutral. They wouldn’t object, not when they actually got it.

“I have walked many battlefields as a warrior,” said the village chief, “and I see nothing to fear here, but we must be prepared in case the worst should happen. Therefore, I want you, Shooter, to stand at my side throughout the negotiations and protect me, even if it costs you your life.”

“M-me? All right.”

“If things go well, I will reward you with the greatest prize I can give.”

At the village chief’s command, I instinctively prostrated myself before her out of habit. “As you wish, madam.”

How did she do that? Ah, the devotion that sweet Alexandricia could draw out with her dignity!

Sure, when the wyvern attacked the village, Alexandricia had come rushing out of her manor wearing armor, sword belted at her waist. But I don’t think I could ever forget how our bold knight lost her nerve and piddled down her leg at the sight of the wyvern. The sight of the commander-in-chief cowering like that sure painted an…interesting picture of her.

The memory of this adult woman pissing her pants almost brought a grin to my face, but Gimul must’ve caught something in my eyes. He gave me a sharp look.

At the same time, his eyes begged me to keep his stepmother safe.

Bah. As if I couldn’t! I’d taken self-defense classes! Granted, that was a while ago and I only learned how to fight off pervy attackers going for me, but this seemed like basically the same thing. I mean, spinning random part-time experience into actual useful stuff was basically my brand at this point, so…what was the worst that could happen?

And what was this “greatest prize” thing that sweet Alexandricia was talking about?

 

So anyway, there I was, completely naked. Insert record scratch—you’re probably wondering how I got here after I went and bought all those clothes in town. Yoi personally got me a pair of pants for Chrissake. The fates toy with me, clearly.

In less than an hour, I would get my chance to more thoroughly process how this had come to pass. There wasn’t much time to think about it now, though. Now, your hero, the bare-ass barbarian, was holding a wooden stick with a piece of white cloth tied around it, and that was the only piece of cloth in his vicinity.

They’d made this improvised white flag from my dearly beloved g-string. I know. Bite back your tears—ol’ Shooter’s going to get through this, but it gets worse.

See, the village chief had ordered me to walk out naked as a sign that we would not resist.

I gaped at her request, nakedly devastated, hard up for any counterargument. My tattered dignity dangled behind me in the wind.

I glanced over my shoulder—there stood the village chief decked out in her knight apparel, Gimul dressed for battle, with Nishka, with my wife, with all the adventurers and hunters we could scrape together arrayed in ranks as a show of force.

We stood outside the large cave on the lakeside in the western part of Apegut Forest. Several bull-kin stood across the clearing from us.

They got to be fully dressed! And those clothes looked nicer than anything I owned, anything Cassandra had ever seen, and probably anything the village chief ever wore.

This suuuuuuuuuucked.

The minotaurs were pointing at me, in all my brazen nudity, talking amongst themselves and readying their weapons.

“Wait! I’m unarmed! We’ve come to parlay with your clan!” I shouted as loudly as I could manage. Not only was I unarmed, I was totally unclothed. I would be completely exposed if they attacked.

Sure, they were minotaurs, but they couldn’t be bull-headed about negotiations, too…right?

 

***

 

“Hello? Konnichiwa? Can you understand me? I’m Shooter. Shoo-Ter. Nice to meet you.”

My name is Yoshida Shuta. I’m a thirty-two-year-old villager, today engaged in negotiations while wearing my handsomest birthday suit.

I’d tied my beloved wife-knitted thong to a wooden pole, which I waved in the air as I drew nearer. Three bull-kin strode toward me, weapons bared. So this was the response I got for my nice, friendly greeting! What a streak of bad luck…

They surrounded me at a fair distance, just slightly farther than my own height, ensuring that I wouldn’t draw any closer. Their combat skills were just as advanced as everything else about them, then—they realized that the distance of an opponent’s height combined with the length of their weapon was the ideal range for an effective attack.

“Hey guys, there’s no need to be so suspicious. What do you have to fear from a totally naked, unarmed human?” Here I was, totally cowed, and they still weren’t listening. “We’d like to talk to you. Can we explain our situation to a representative? You can see that I’m unarmed, so—”

I planted my white flag in the ground, then turned and looked back at all the people from the village.

The village chief in her knight-wear had her longsword out in front of her, its tip dug into the ground to prop her up in a regal pose. She squinted at me and the bull-kin. Gimul, the rest of the village leadership, the adventurers, and the hunters all lined up behind her.

“We have come to inform you of the governor’s intentions, as she rules this stretch of the forest,” I said. “We have no wish to fight you. We only want to speak with you.”

Apparently the bull-kin weren’t buying the idea that I wanted to talk with them. This may or may not have been because of all the people with all the weapons behind me. Who can say?

“What is it that you want?” one of them growled.

“I already told you. We want to talk.”

I raised both hands to show that I wasn’t going to resist, but that didn’t seem to have any effect whatsoever. They jerked their swords, which were still pointed at me, to gesture for me to sit down. I knelt.

“I’ll ask you again. What do you hope to gain from this talk?”

“You see that woman over there, the one wearing the armor? She’s the governor of this territory and a member of the knighthood: the noble Alexandricia. The governor has learned that your group of b…ah, of minotaurs has migrated into her domain, and she has come to pay you a formal visit.”

I had a hunch that the minotaurs would be offended by the term “bull-kin” that the residents of the village tossed around so casually, so I avoided saying it.

Back in the day, I used to work at an internet café frequented by some shady people. When I dealt with customers over the phone, I learned that there were a billion ways to accidentally piss someone off.

One customer I remember got infuriated when I said “thank you for your patience.” How dare I presume that they had already agreed to be patient, how dare I make it sound like the conversation was over, whippersnapper. They told me I should say “please give me a moment” instead, because that would mean I was requesting the customer’s patience. I still have no idea if that was just that one customer’s interpretation or if that’s actually something you have to pay attention to when you’re trying to be polite.

I had even less means to judge what might set these particular people off, but it felt like a sensible assumption. After all, calling them bull-kin would imply they were bulls—just beasts of burden. If a bunch of humans playing Imperialism Pretend waltzed up to my cave and said something like that to me, I know I’d be seeing red.

Oh, they’d probably think, look at these disgusting barbarians, calling us slurs again. And boom, complications and possibly a war and-slash-or stampede. A naked failure.

I cleared my throat. “Essentially, our chief would like to know when your group of minotaurs came to this territory and whether you have any plans to expand your home on the r—the range of your home. If so, there’s obviously the potential for strife to break out between our peoples, and our chief would like to strike a deal before any problems arise or escalate.”

“And that’s all? Really?”

“Really. We’d like to speak to your representative, whether that’s your governor or clan chieftain or anyone else with a similar role.”

“And that person will be speaking with your governor, is that right?”

“Our chief Alexandricia and your representative, to create a level playing field—I mean, to meet as equals.”

I swore to them that we weren’t going to try to slip anything past them, but really, what did I know? The village chief had called this a battle without bloodshed, but she still knew how to seize the initiative. She hadn’t mentioned anything to me, but she might have a secret weapon she intended to whip out when the moment was right.

“We can wait here,” I said. “What will you do now?”

“Bah! You think we’ll trust the word of a human? You obviously came here to intimidate us into leaving our cave. Just look at those soldiers you brought.”

“You’re not, wrong, exactly, but you still need to inform your superiors.”

“Understand that if you attack during the discussions, we can handle ourselves.”

Why was this musclebound beefman hanging back and bluffing with such a timid threat? Could it be that as their culture advanced, the bull-kin lost the bravery of the barbarian? Or maybe that lack of aggressive macho-posturing was how they became so cultured?

“And…and n-now we shall go to our chieftain,” he said, “who will decide whether to parlay with you. In the meantime, you’ll wait here.”

“With pleasure.”

A momentary gust of wind dissipated and rose again. My privates swayed with each swell and drop in the wind like a great oak tree, or perhaps a loose frankfurter tumbling through city streets at night.

We had agreed ahead of time that Nishka would use her wind magic to signal me if anything was up. Evidently, the village chief had reached the end of her patience—because there the signal was.

If I put a hand on my hip, it meant the negotiations were proceeding. If I crossed my arms, that meant negotiations had broken down. And if I touched my crotch, that meant to wait.

Which meant that I was forced to jiggle my jolly-place right in front of the minotaurs.

“Our chief Alexandricia is a very tolerant woman. We will be happy to await your chief’s reply. We did come here to hold discussions, after all.” As I said that, I gave the villagers behind me a chill, nonchalant kind of look, then covered my crotch with both hands.

“Uh.” A minotaur opened his mouth. He closed it. Opened it. “What…what are you doing?”

“What am I—?”

“With your penis.”

“Oh, you know. Ha! I feel kind of stupid having such a serious discussion while I’m completely naked. I figured if I covered my little guy that could make things! Less weird! Ha!” I grinned. “Ha ha! Ha. Yep.”

One of the three minotaurs slid his longsword back into its sheath and hurried into the cave.

 

While we waited for the man who had run off to inform the clan chieftain, I sat on a rock near the cave entrance and got into a deeper conversation with one of the minotaurs.

I crossed my legs thoughtfully. “How many years have you all lived here?”

“Are you asking about our colony? We established our settlement here just two winters ago.”

“So this is your third year in the area?”

“Yes. You know, you have unusual features for a human from these parts. Your face is so flat, you almost look like an elf. Are you half-elven?”

The other minotaur stood in stubborn silence. He kept his sword pointed at me, obviously disgruntled.

“Sorry to disappoint, but I’m full human. I do come from a land pretty far away, though.”

“Oh, really? What’s your name? You look like you get a lot of exercise. Are you a warrior?”

“My name’s Shooter. And I guess you could call me a warrior, yeah.”

“Oh, that’s right. Shooter, you said. You use a bow, then?”

I shrugged. “What’s your name?”

I tried to be as friendly as possible to the bull-headed man seated beside me. Even if he did get to wear such fancy clothes. Lucky bastard.

The bull-kin all had animal ears like Elpaco. Every now and then, their ears would twitch in a way that highlighted how bestial they looked. Because, you know, they…had the heads of bulls. “Me?” he said. “I’m Tancelot. A soldier, obviously. So hey, we have the same job.”

“Heh. Yeah, guess so. Pleasure to meet you, Tancelot. You work sentry duty?”

“Yeah. We found footprints of someone sneaking into our town last night, so we posted lookouts just to be on the safe side. But sometimes that’s what a soldier’s got to do, am I right?”

“Aw dip, that sucks. I’m sorry to hear that!” I kinda was, actually. Those were definitely our footprints, and now poor Tancelot was stuck with extra work.

“Oh, I don’t mind. Once they found those footprints, they started running us through some really tough combat drills. It was kinda fun.”

“Wow. Combat drills, huh? I’d love to learn more about minotaur battle training. Getting into sparring might be fun, if we get a chance.”

Oops. My interest in martial arts was showing.

“What is this ‘sparring’?”

“It’s like when you do fighting, but for fun. Could be with fists or weapons, doesn’t matter which.”

“Oh! You mean bullfighting? That can be fun, but I’m not very good at it, personally. Our chieftain is a master of fighting like that, though.”

So their leader is a good bullfighter, huh? And also they called sparring “bullfighting”? That…that was pretty great, actually. Props. I grinned.

Just then, another strong breeze swelled and dropped over and over again as we relaxed on the rocks.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“The wind is acting really strange today.”

My Alexandricia must have gotten annoyed and ordered Nishka to send me another signal.

“Woooooo! Boy howdy, sitting on a rock really hurts when you’re naked,” I said, trying to keep it cool and natural as I stood up and positioned myself so the village chief and her retinue could get a good, hard look at my horngus before I both-handed it. Just a bit longer. Look at me veil the scungle for God’s sake.

“You know,” I said, “how I came up to you guys stark naked to show I was unarmed and wouldn’t resist? I’m glad you all understood what I was trying to convey. Aren’t we all really just beautiful buck-naked creatures in this wild world of ours? Really makes you—”

The other minotaur was not having it. “Stop fidgeting like that! Stay still!” He jabbed his blade sharply into my butt cheek and I quickly sat back down. The sex-negativity in this place, I swear.

 

After a little while, a long line of minotaurs marched out of the cave.

There was a particularly large oxman in their midst, and I guessed that was their leader. I wanted to believe that a group of civilized minotaur could be led by anyone, but Tancelot had told me their leader liked bullfighting, so I knew I had probably guessed right.

But no—couldn’t be. It had to be the slender man in the opulent clothes. He was more slender than the other minotaurs, but in a cut, svelte kinda way. He had the sinewy build of a martial artist.

“Our leader stands before you. Rise!”

I rolled off the boulder to my feet and was instantly surrounded by about thirty minotaurs.

“You’re the messenger the humans sent?”

“Yes. I am here on behalf of my governor, the Lady Alexandricia.”

“Oh, yes? Hrmph.”

“I am most grateful that you would deign to see me in person, chieftain. We would be most appreciative if you would allow our own chief to hold discussions with you—uugh!”

Someone knocked my legs out from under me, forcing me to fall at the minotaur chieftain’s feet. I groveled before him, totally naked.

“Hrmph. Why not? We are an open-minded people, and tolerant of our barbarian neighbors.”

“Thank you for your graciousness, lord. Thank you so much.”

 

The discussions went thusly:

First, the minotaur chieftain, attended by several guards, advanced into the space between the group from the village and the group of minotaurs.

I accompanied him to the spot, then waved my white flag in broad swings to signal the village chief. Then, as we had discussed at the very start, our sweet Alexandricia strode forward alone, her bearing conveying a kind of forthright honor…while Nishka stood near with her bow, ready to lay down cover fire if we needed it. If it came to it, Wak’wakgoro would join in.

The clan chieftain and village chief squared up.

“I am Knight Commander Alexandricia Jumei, who governs this region of Apegut Forest. It is right and just that you agreed to our request for parlay.”

“When a barbarian chief bids me come, I come. I am Tan-Claude Van Damme, and I command this clan. You may call me Tan-Claude, if you wish.”

They both extended their hands and shook.

It was like looking at a full-grown man facing off with a tweeny-bopper Disney popstar. The oxman Tan-Claude towered over the village chief, but she showed not the faintest sign of being intimidated. A smirk played at the corner of her mouth.

I was noticing a pattern, though. As Nishka would describe it, these guys all ran with the Tan clan.

“Ha ha ha!”

“What do you find so amusing, Lady Barbarian?”

“I never thought I’d see the day when a clan of minotaur would call me a barbarian!”

“Hrmph. You may well think so when you look at other clans, but we are different.”

“Shooter has already told me. You have neighborhood upon neighborhood of lovely houses, you’ve decorated your walls with colorful designs—why, you seem prosperous indeed.”

“Who is Shooter?” Tan-Claude cocked his horny head in confusion.

“That naked man there,” Tancelot said. He had accompanied his leader as one of the guards.

“Hrmph. You, eh? So you’re the one who snuck into our settlement yesterday.”

Startled, I looked away, finding a moment to fiddle with my junk.

“He is the greatest warrior in our village. Moreover, he has been a hunter as well as an adventurer. You could say he’s our secret weapon.”

“No matter. Hrmph. What are your demands?”

“As we said earlier, this territory belongs to me. You have apparently taken it upon yourselves to build a magnificent city within my domain. As the ruler of this land, I cannot simply overlook such a trespass.”

“And what do you intend to do about this thing you simply cannot overlook?”

“When did you build your city in this cave?”

“Three years ago. Until that time, we lived on the other side of the mountains, using ogres for labor. We were attacked by a giant wyvern, and then we stumbled across this cave and decided to take it as our new home.”

“A wyvern, eh? Our village has suffered similar attacks, as well. So you were refugees?”

“One might say so.”

I felt like I’d heard this story before. Had the wyvern that attacked our village been harassing this clan of Tans, too?

“Nevertheless, no governor can blithely pardon such an act.”

“Does your pack of barbarians plan to attack us, then?”

“That,” Alexandricia chuckled, “might be fun.”

The huge oxman who had come along with Tancelot started to reach for the sword at his hip. In response, I quickly swung my staff into a ready stance.

“Leave it, Tandalus!” the chieftain barked. “I apologize, my words were ill-chosen. I meant, what would you like to do about this? Are you telling us to leave?”

“I don’t care much for dancing around a subject, so I’ll speak plainly.”

“I would like nothing better.”

“Our rules require that anyone living within our borders must pay a tax. If the tax is paid, they are allowed to stay in our lands. Territorial leaders have a reputation to uphold. If I were to let you trespass without recompense, the governors in bordering lands would see me as weak.”

“Hrmph.”

“Naturally, I do not intend to make any unreasonable demands. One might say that we want nothing more than friendship and the opportunity to make future exchanges. And no doubt you would find it inconvenient to have the city you worked three years to build brought to shambles by a ‘pack of barbarians.’”

Alexandricia issued her demand coolly, while still giving Tan-Claude a glimpse of the situation on our end. The option of ignoring the minotaurs so long as they paid a reasonable tax was pretty clever—downright encouraging, in fact! Alexandricia would be able to keep face in front of the other governors while maintaining friendly relations with the minotaurs. Considering she had been talking war before, this was a practically mild-mannered solution.

Tan-Claude appeared to be mulling her offer. He crossed his arms and snorted “hrmph, hrmph” to himself a few times. “What fascinating terms you offer. But you are barbarians. What proof do you have that you won’t go back on your word?”

“There is a custom that has been used in such situations since ancient times,” the village chief said. “A bond of trust can be formed between two communities via marriage. We will each offer up a pledge: someone from my party and one of your relatives. We will send each to the other’s people, where they will join their new kin in marriage.”

 

***

 

“Are you saying that one of you will be married into my family?” Tan-Claude huffed and stroked his chin in thought.

I read a book once that said the royalty and nobility of Europe in the Middle Ages created alliances through intermarriage. Then, when the time came, they could expect backup from their relatives by marriage during negotiations with hostile royal families. In-laws could even intercede on issues of succession, if it came to that.

This practice wasn’t limited to Europe. There was a type of alliance bought with blood relatives often seen in the Warring States and Edo periods in Japan. A vassal would offer a relative up as a pledge to the monarch’s family and in turn, the monarch would give the vassal one of his daughters in marriage. The reverse also happened. Two marriages, one pact. When our village chief talked about a bloodless war or using diplomacy, this must have been what she meant.

At least, if this was her final goal. Alexandricia was still a noble and a governor. She was likely engaged in these sorts of power plays every single day with none of us the wiser.

“It’s not a bad suggestion, is it?” she asked.

“Perhaps. I suppose that depends on who you’re offering to trade away.”

“I’m sure it would be quite fun to marry you, but you wouldn’t have anything to gain by marrying a decrepit old woman who’s past her prime, would you? Perhaps you would find it acceptable if I turned over my stepson or a female relative? And I have plans for Shooter here, but if the woman your side sends to us has her heart set on him, that’s no issue in the end. Ha ha ha!”

How could the village chief say such outrageous things so casually? And hold on, since when was I part of our Alexandricia’s plans? This was news to me. Double hold on, was she suggesting I might become her husband someday? Triple hold the hell on—and if not, was she really nominating me to marry someone from the bull-kin clan?!

I was in shock. Meanwhile, the bull-kin chieftain’s rough snorts indicated he had reached a decision. “That,” he hrmphed, “is acceptable to me. So let us put forth our pledges now. Is Tanne d’Arc here?” Tan-Claude looked back and scanned the group of bull-kin.

“Y-yes, brother. I’m here.” A woman with horns on her head stepped out from the group.

Ohhhh thank God. On a scale of bull to human, she was a bull that was as close to being a human as she could possibly be. (I guess this brand of sexual dimorphism is one of those weird rules of fantasy worlds.) While her horns were much smaller than the bull-guys’, her bazoongahoongas were bigger than the breasts of nearly anyone in our brigade of non-bulls.

Not Nishka-level, though. No one was Nishka-level.

“Um,” said Tanne d’Arc, “d-do you need me for something…?”

“You will be our clan’s offering as a bride. Since we must hand over one of our own as a pledge, you seem like a good candidate. You are still single, after all.”

“Y-you want me to marry a barbarian? How could you be so heartless, dear brother?”

“Watch your tongue. These people might soon be your family.”

“But brotherrr, look!” she whined. “These savages don’t even wear clothes…”

Tanne d’Arc seemed utterly disgusted as she looked from Alexandricia to me. I was still, you know, completely naked. Not that this was going to really be a problem. Alexandricia was deeeefinitely just joking. I already had a wife, so she couldn’t make me marry someone else. Could she?

I glanced over at the village chief and saw she was…chuckling? “Shooter here comes from a tribe that exalts nudity, but I promise, most of the time he does wear clothes. Don’t worry.”

“H-he does? Do you swear it?”

“You tell her, Shooter.”

“Y-yes, I do.” Very funny joke, yep, and now it was going to be over and we could move on. “But ma’am, you aren’t really asking me to marry Tanne d’Arc. Because, I mean…?”

“Don’t butt in.”

“F-forgive me, ma’am.”

“So your name is Tanne d’Arc. There’s no need for such timidity, young lady. We’re far from deciding whether you are to marry Shooter. If you don’t care for him, you may look over the other men we have to offer and select one more to your taste.”

“I-I can…?”

My attempt to protest had drawn the village chief’s ire, and now the little sister of the bull-kin chieftain was sizing me up like a piece of three-day fridge-meat.

But if the village chief was just going to stand there silently and watch how this played out, she had to be planning something. She smiled brightly at the bull-kin girl who had regarded me so dubiously.

“Now then,” she pivoted. “I offer my stepson as pledge. Come, Gimul!” She turned and waved for Gimul to come over.

Gimul was still back with the others, watching the scene unfold. When he saw his stepmother wave for him, he hustled up to us. “You called for me, ma’am?”

“We’ve decided that you will serve as our pledge to this bull-kin clan. You will go with them and take a wife from among the minotaurs. Congratulations on this, your most felicitous day.”

“Wh-what? I’m a pledge?”

“Yes. Why, the bull-kin chieftain has offered a pledge from his own clan. A blood relative, no less, and so we must do the same in the name of fair exchange. Those are the terms of our negotiation, so…deal with it.”

“I-I have no objections, of course…” Gimul stuttered.

He snuck a few glances at his fellow pledge Tanne d’Arc, then turned back to Alexandricia. This was Gimul, after all. The problem was his stepmom Oedipal complex, not his orders.

And so, just like that, the two pledges were decided.

“Finally, we need to affirm our agreement,” said Alexandricia. “In three days’ time we will hold a feast here by the lake to exchange our pledges and strengthen our bonds of friendship.”

“Agreed. We have some excellent cattle in our settlement. We’ll slaughter some for the festivities.”

For the first time, the village chief’s face betrayed a hint of shock. “Y-you eat cattle?” she stammered, aghast.

“Hm? Even you barbarians have the know-how to slaughter cattle, do you not?”

“Of…of course we do! And we shall bring venison…”

Did bull-men eating cows count as cannibalism? Alexandricia’s face kept on twitching. I knew her answer…

 

On our walk back to the village, the village chief took up position in the middle of our procession. I jogged up to her and asked, “Ma’am, you aren’t seriously considering marrying me to Tan-Claude Van Damme’s little sister, are you?”

“Ha ha ha! Of course not. After all, she’s not interested, so we’ll have to think of something else. Luckily, I have an idea.”

I kept my voice low to prevent anyone else from hearing. “It’s just, you know I’m already married to Cassandra.”

“Then you’d be a bigamist. There’s no law against that, slave or no.”

“Gimul can marry the chieftain’s sister. Why not do that?”

“If we did that, the happy couple would have to settle with one side or the other, and the side they didn’t choose would be entirely without a hostage then, wouldn’t they? Well, I suppose it doesn’t matter to me one way or the other. We told them we’re holding a feast three days from now.”

“Are you saying that the real purpose of the feast…is to capture them?”

She blinked. “Oh dear, you think I mean to round them up and murder them like cows to the slaughter? How terrifying. You really do have the mentality of a warrior, Shooter.” Alexandricia burbled with laughter, as if we were discussing some abstract idea rather than…this.

I quickly looked around to make sure that no one else was listening to our conversation. Nishka was a particular risk, since she could perk her long ears up to listen, but she was walking at the head of the line, upwind, so it looked like we were in the clear.

“No, Shooter, we don’t need to do anything except wait for the bull-kin girl to choose someone. If she doesn’t want you, I have relatives besides Gimul. I can summon them here in the meantime.”

“Your family back home?” The ones in Bulka like Yoi, presumably.

“No, not them. When I married into this village, it was my second marriage. I have a brother-in-law through my previous husband. I’ll bring him.”

“Ah, so that’s your plan.”

“Now, as you say, there’s always the option to slaughter them all at the feast. Obviously, we would have to exhaust every other alternative before that.”

“I see.” But she’d clearly thought about it. Like it or not, it was a possibility.

A sudden memory of a book I’d read flashed through my mind. It told a story about a group of Ainu who were invited to a reconciliation feast hosted by a Japanese tribe, only for it to turn out that the tribe served the Ainu poison. If we mixed poison or some kind of drug into the food, then it wouldn’t matter how massively strong the minotaurs were. We’d trounce them. But if we did that, whatever minotaurs survived would be hostile toward us forever, mostly because of the, ah, war-crime thing. Understandable!

I remembered the manager of the convenience store I used to work at, and also the people skills training for “the next generation of managers” I got at a consulting firm. They told us over and over how the majority of work in a business was preparing thoroughly in order to set yourself up for success.

There would always be opponents, both internal and external, to any organization. But the secret to a strong business lay in ensuring that you had more allies than opponents, even if you only had a handful more allies. My manager and the trainers both constantly reiterated that eighty percent of any plan for a job was laying this groundwork. Anyone who didn’t plan like this would inevitably run into opposition or failure from an unexpected quarter.

“You understand?”

“Yes. This is the eighty percent for laying the groundwork.”

“Hm, I don’t know what that means, but you seem sure of yourself.”

“By the way, chief…”

I had neglected to ask this question earlier, so I decided to ask it now. This whispered conversation with the village chief was the perfect opportunity. I had no alternative but to ask her now.

“What is it?”

“Earlier, you said that if everything went well with this mission, you would reward me.”

“Did I?”

“And back there, you said you had plans for me. You made it sound preeetty significant…?”

The village chief chuckled. “What exactly are you hoping for?”

“I’m only, uh, wondering what my reward might be.”

I gave her my rawest, most sexually powerful head tilt. She just stuck her nose in the air and turned her face aside before walking away. I found myself hurrying to catch up.

“Making such disgusting faces is no way to act when pursuing a chief’s favor.”

The tilt had failed. Worse yet, I’d just pissed off Alexandricia!

Probably…in a charming way, though. Yeah, there we go. Girls love the tilt.

 

***

 

When our group returned to the village, the village chief ordered us to gather at her manor. She mainly called over the hunters, including Wak’wakgoro and Nishka. Of course, that included me and the new hunter Elpaco, whom my wife and I had agreed to let stay at our place.

“In three days’ time we’re going to hold a feast to strengthen our alliance with the bull-kin. We need to bring game that will reflect well on us at the feast. I want you all to collect an appropriate number of deer. Can you do that?” our village chief asked, settling into the armchair in her office as usual.

I had heard the entire exchange with the bull-kin chieftain, so I knew that he and the village chief had agreed that the bull-kin would bring the cattle they took so much pride in and we would provide venison.

The bull-headed apemen offering up their cattle as food still felt a little, uh, Hannibal Lecter to me, but if we were going to offer comparable fare, meat was the only way to go.

Some people in the village did have livestock, but since the minotaurs said they’d bring beef, we couldn’t also bring beef. The only thing on the same level might be pork, but as the village chief said, “I thought of using Gintanen’s pigs, but with all our new settlers to feed, if we slaughter the pigs now for such little gain, we’ll face food shortages.”

“Ah, yeah. How many deer, do you think?” Wak’wakgoro asked, wrinkling his nose and looking up at the village chief as she tapped her finger on the arm of her chair.

“I’d like the majority of us who were there today to attend. And since some influential people will be invited, we need to get some young women to come along. So counting all those people together, we’ll need enough deer to satisfy…one hundred people.”

“Hmm. In that case, I’d say we should catch between five and seven deer at minimum. We can make up the remainder with chickens and pigs. We’ll do as much as we can.”

“Understood. Good luck.”

Once the hunters had received their orders, they filed out of Alexandricia’s office, Wak’wakgoro and Nishka among them. I fell in at the end of the line and was just about to leave when the village chief called to me. “Shooter, you stay here a moment.”

Elpaco was right behind me, also intending to leave, but now we both stood in place.

“Leave us, beastchild. This is between me and Shooter.”

“Y-yes. Of course. Elpaco, go wait outside for me.”

“O-okay.”

Fuzzball looked at me uncertainly, then glanced over at Alexandricia before stepping out of the room. I watched him go until I saw the door fully close, then I turned back to face the village chief.

She had obviously kept me here with no one else present so we could have a private discussion. Was this it? Was this the reward? Should I do another head tilt? I felt my crotch rising from the dead in anticipation, but I fought the feeling down and managed to avoid pitching a tent in front of the woman who literally owned me.

“Is something on your mind?” Alexandricia asked.

“Well, uh, I was wondering why you asked me to stay behind.”

“Hmph. There’s no need for concern. I was curious, you see. I’ve been told that despite looking like an adorable young woman on the outside, that beastchild claims to be a boy. How odd.”

“Yep. I was a little surprised by it myself.”

“Gimul told me about it. And that you’re letting him stay at your house now?”

“Yes. I’m helping him get his new life in order.”

“Did Cassandra have anything to say about this?”

I smiled back at Alexandricia in response. We’d agreed to it as a couple, after all.

“Hm. I’ll have you know that while the settlers have priority on the empty houses in the village, there aren’t enough to go around. If you two really want to put him up, you’ll be inconvenienced until we get new houses built.”

“If the hunters don’t look out for each other, we’ll end up with some petty disputes about housing, I’m sure.”

Since the settlers had come to us, similar issues were playing out all over the village. Settlers with families had been granted the empty houses available. But who knew what they were doing with the goblin laborers and the enslaved criminals? Maybe they’d put them into barns like they’d done with me when I first arrived. I hadn’t known about this when I was in town, but apparently if we brought back too many people, they had planned to let the settlers shack up in the hunters’ huts, too.

“I’m glad you’re doing the village such a favor. I feel terrible forcing a newlywed couple to endure such an intrusion, but I hope you can be patient a while longer.”

“Oh, no. It would be much harder if we had to live with some slovenly guy. I’m grateful to have taken in Elpaco. I’m sure it’s easier on my wife this way, too.”

“Once this business with the bull-kin is taken care of, we’ll get to work on building new houses.”

“Certainly.”

“And once we have the scaffolding built, we can create the mud walls easily enough with earth magic. I belong to a spellcasting family, so you leave that part to me,” the village chief said with a wry smile.

Oh, right—Alexandricia and Yoi were relatives, after all. Both pants-wetting spellcasters, it seemed, and I remembered someone saying Yoi was particularly skilled with earth magic.

“And one other thing. I’ll need to borrow Cassandra for the banquet.”

“What does that mean?”

“Remember when I said we’d need to bring young women? I’m using them as serving girls. That should placate the bull-kin and put them in a good mood.”

“I see…”

“Don’t give me that look, Shooter. She’ll just be pouring drinks and making conversation. If anyone tries anything funny with her, that just gives us another card to play against the bull-kin chieftain.”

Pants-pisser or no, our Alexandricia was a damn brilliant chief.

There was no reason to expect anything to happen, of course, and if something did, I wouldn’t just sit idly by, no way. “I understand. I will do everything in my power to make sure our dealings with the bull-kin go well.”

“I expect nothing less. And if everything goes well…you’ll have your reward.”

Okay, she had to be doing that on purpose.

 

I rejoined Elpaco outside the village chief’s manor and we set out for home.

“Elpaco.”

“Uh. Yes?”

“You told me that you come from a canine race of beastmen. So that means you’re some kind of apeman, right? But crossed with what animal?”

Aside from humans and goblins, apparently most people in this fantasy world were beastmen and those were typically called “something-apemen.” Going by that logic, he was probably a dog, tanuki, or fox-apeman. Something like that. If there even were tanuki in this world. Were there? I knew jackal-headed apemen were called kobolds, and they ranked pretty high on the furry scale. Their faces looked pretty much exactly like a jackal’s. Fuzzball, though…

He sniffed. “A fox. I’m a foxling. I don’t like being called an apeman…”

“Oh, s-sorry. I didn’t know.”

There was something about him when he pouted that just looked so adorable. I mean, in a boyish way. Platonically adorable! “I’m sure you didn’t,” he said.

What made him so sure about that? Was that an insult?

“Do you know where beastmen come from, Shooter?”

“Nope, no idea. I’m just a hick from somewhere really, really far away, so I don’t know much about stuff like that. I guess there is a giant black mouse that’s really famous where I come from, but that’s about it.”

“A giant mouse?”

“We had those there,” I said, trying to divert Elpaco from asking about the world I came from.

“Really?” He looked up at me timidly, then got contemplative. “People say that dogmen were the first of all beastmen.”

“I guess they do say dogs are man’s best friend. I remember reading in some book that the first dogs to become domesticated split off from wolves.”

“Is that true? Humans are such self-absorbed creatures. A long time ago, the ancients went through a big drop in population, so they used magic to turn female dogs into humans. It…brought their population back up. That’s really gross, right?” Fuzzball added hurriedly, obviously wanting me to back him up.

He told the story so offhandedly that it kind of stunned me. What were those ancients thinking, man? That was straight-up depraved.

“They say that we foxlings appeared a long time after that,” he said quietly. “The minotaurs were born the same way.”

“So a cow was turned into a human and the children she had became the bull-kin. Wow. Humans have done some really dark things.”

On one hand, this was fascinating stuff. On the other hand, I wanted to throw humanity in a plastic bag and throw the bag in a river. I frowned right as we reached my hut. I leaned hard against the ill-fitted door to push it open.

“Oh, welcome home, Shooter. And you too, Elpaco!”

“Hey, hon. Boy is it good to be home.”

“Th-thanks for letting me stay with you.”

“Kwee!”

Fuzzball, who my new wife sweetly called by his proper name, cast his eyes down to the floor, seemingly embarrassed about something. Then again, teenage boys get embarrassed about everything.

“The hot water is ready. Would you like to take a bath?”

“Sure, why not?” I replied.

“You ought to join him, Elpaco.”

“Kwee kwee!”

I let my chubby little frilled lizard scuttle around at my feet, and then he started rubbing against my pants. Just like Basil, trying to ruin my best pair of pants for kicks!

“So what happened on your trip today?” asked Cassandra.

“We managed to meet up with the bull-kin, and the village chief decided we should hold a banquet three days from now.”

“Oh, my.”

“We have to go deer hunting tomorrow. And Cassandra—the village chief said that on the day of the banquet, you’ll have to serve the bull-kin drinks and chat with them,” I told her as I pulled off my vest, then reached for my pants.

Following my example, Elpaco also started to hesitantly undress. He had such a slight figure that he could have easily been mistaken for a girl. If I hadn’t been told, no way could I have known.

And then his clothes came off. Once he was undressed, Elpaco’s little nubbin was plain to see, foreskin and all. Thank goodness—after seeing him day after day, I’d started to worry what I saw on the road back from Bulka was some kinda penile hallucination.

“Now don’t be shy. You take your time and enjoy your bath. I have more water set to boil,” said Cassandra.

“Sounds good. You want me to wash your back, Elpaco?” I asked.

With Cassandra and I both encouraging him to get into the washtub, Elpaco gingerly slipped one leg into it, looking extremely flustered.

“N-no, that’s okay. I can get it myself.”

“True, you don’t want a filthy guy like me doin’ it. That wouldn’t be sexy at all. And you’re old enough to care about that stuff, ain’tcha!”

“It’s not that…”

“Would you like me to help you, then?” Seeing Elpaco’s reticence, Cassandra picked up our scrub brush and reached around Elpaco’s back.

“Wha—?”

“The water’s going to get cold if you don’t hurry up. Let’s get you washed up.”

“Kweee! Kweee!”

And so the job of washing Elpaco became a two-man job.

Before we finished, the chubby little frilled lizard had splashed his way into the tub. The warm water must have felt pretty good, because our little lizard closed his eyes slightly and took a big blorping poop right in the water. This was turning out to be an…eventful bath.

“Basil!”

“Kwee…”