It was six days later that all of Alric’s suspicions about Stephen were confirmed. It was winter, snowed in, cold and still. The man had found a girlfriend. He was also remarkably pleased and smug about it, which did nothing to lift Alric’s mood.

  He was due to do the innkeepers again. This was the worst of the routes because it was the furthest. There was no avoiding it. If he went, the deliveries moved. If he stayed, the boiler stayed hot. He couldn’t do both.

  The crafters quarter brought his thoughts back. His staff had worked late with the boiler three times now while he was out walking. They never complained, never had a problem with it. They just wanted to meet demand, that was all, as if demand were a polite guest who could be satisfied with enough effort. They explained it away by saying they would have worked more hours elsewhere, but that still didn’t sit well with Alric, largely because it sounded far too reasonable and exploitive at the same time.

  The work was hot, sweaty, clammy and steamy. Bizarrely, they all seemed to love it and had a pep in their step all the time. He suspected Stephen’s was because of his new relationship.

  Hal heard him click his tongue again and glanced at him, but Alric shook his head. He was waiting for Hal to be ready with the filter so he could replace the water barrel, charge the stones, and be on his way. Hal took this the wrong way and began rushing.

  Hal tapped the boiler to get his attention and Alric got a small fright. He quickly placed the barrel and charged the stones before beginning to tighten his cloak.

  “Gonna be another one of those, I’m afraid,” Alric said.

  Hal just smiled and nodded in the way of someone who had already accepted that some days simply were.

  Alric headed out for the innkeepers beat. It wasn’t snowing today. The cold remained unimpressed. The sun was out, thin and distant, suggesting improvement without committing to it. He lengthened his stride, shaving minutes where he could.

  His exchanges continued as usual. Every inn and tavern was busier than normal. All asked for a second barrel and none of them got it, except Berrin, who received one without fuss. Alric was not above favouritism when it came packaged with fewer arguments. Even Berrin’s family noticed he was pressed and let him go quickly. The Adventurers’ Guild took two casks. Only after he’d turned away did Alric remember, again, the gift cask he was still carrying for the guild master. His tongue clicked before he could stop it.

  The Adventurers’ Guild put him back on the main avenue and he set off toward the warehouse. He was moving faster than he normally would have, and stayed that way.

  Near the staff entrance, something new had appeared. A large handcart stood waiting. It wasn’t hitched to anything. It simply existed, settled and confident, as though it had arrived earlier and found no reason to leave. Alric stopped to look it over. Thick wooden wheels, iron-banded, with multiple straps fixed to the bed. He straightened and went inside, the boiler already asserting its priorities.

  Entering the warehouse, every head turned. Alric crossed to the boiler and realised the staff hadn’t expected him back so soon, because everyone immediately became very busy at once, a skill that took practice.

  “Seren, what’s with the handcart?” he asked, moving to the boiler.

  He noted no one would make eye contact with him except Seren.

  “We are falling behind on boiling, Mister Alric, so myself, Henry, and Stephen will be making the dock deliveries tomorrow.”

  Alric was about to protest when she shook her head.

  “The roads are wider, we have a gap in the snow, and we will fall behind on boiling very soon. Henry and Stephen know the docks well. You also need a rest,” she said, crossing her arms with a frown.

  Alric glanced around at the staff, who were suddenly very intent on their jobs, finding urgent interest in tasks they had done a thousand times before.

  “None of you going to back her up, huh?” he said to no one in particular. “But fine. Wrap up tight even so,” Alric added, both amused and annoyed.

  Seren seemed to deflate while also looking relieved. She had clearly expected Alric to argue further, but Alric could also see the wisdom in this. He was also a bit touched by his staff’s care.

  “I’m ready for you, Mister Alric,” came from Hal, standing by the boiler.

  Alric approached the bottom of the boiler, removed the barrel, and stared at Hal for a moment. Hal looked everywhere else. He could hear Mara laughing nearby. Alric headed for the well.

  He dropped the ice breaker down the well, followed by the barrel. He retrieved both shortly after. Hal was ready with the filter, staring at it very intently, as if it might move. Alric placed the barrel and charged the stones. He could hear Mara and Seren giggling as Hal continued to look everywhere else.

  The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

  “Alright, if I have everyone’s permission, I’m going to the rest of the inns,” Alric said theatrically. He gathered the lager casks he would still need, hearing giggling from Mara and Seren as he left with a smile.

  His good mood held for a while, but just as he realised he was on the wrong road, he turned into an alley to get back on track before noticing a set of shapes that gave him a sense of wrongness.

  It was hard to make out, the shapes resolved into cloaks and people. Two standing, one on the ground. One of the standing figures, said something Alric couldn’t hear over the wind, the other threw what was unmistakably a punch.

  “Hey!” Alric shouted,

  The two standing figures turned to him, causing his heart to skip a beat. He hadn’t thought this through, he had no idea of what to do next.

  What if they were armed? a thought that arrived late but stayed. For a moment, they just stared at one another.

  The figures glanced at each other before turning around and launching into a run, toward the opposite side of the alley. Their boots pounding on the cobblestones as they vanished around a corner, a fragment of their cloaks trailing behind was the last he saw of them.

  Alric took a breath… His heart pounded as he approached…

  The man was shuffling around trying to move within his cloak.

  “You alright?” he asked offering a hand.

  The man shifted, before brushing his hand aside and sneering at him. Finally managing to get a hand out of the cloak before standing up, he walked past Alric with a slight limp.

  Alric could only stare at the scene, unsure what to make of any of it.

  Should I have expected gratitude? Flashed through his mind before he realised the man had cause to be suspicious of anyone nearby.

  He followed the alley back to the road, but the man was already gone. He glanced down the alley again. It was an alley like any other, trash piled to one side, muddy and wet. He could see the far end clearly.

  The rest of Alric’s trip to the different inns was uneventful. He moved much more cautiously, studying figures. Everyone was wearing cloaks, which left him with a deep sense of unease.

  It was the next day. Alric saw his staff off with the handcart. Even loaded with eight casks, Stephen got it moving easily. Henry walked alongside, one hand guiding it, looking entirely at home. Seren seemed to be enjoying the small bit of sunshine as they moved off.

  At least I’m not sending them out into a storm.

  He also knew this respite would be temporary. The roads would soon be too choked with snow for a cart to move. Alric returned inside. Hal was stirring the boiler, already hard at work. He glanced at Alric with a smile. Mara was eyeballing grain measurements. That made Alric think they really did need a scale and some way of measuring, but consistency would be a problem for another day, which was rapidly becoming a theme.

  He moved over to help Mara before she stopped him.

  “We can handle this easily, Mister Alric. Please just relax and be nearby when we need to get the boiler up again,” she said with a smile, and it was clear she wouldn’t accept otherwise.

  Unsure what else to do, Alric headed for his room. He lay down on his bed when it occurred to him, with the weight of a sudden and inconvenient truth.

  I still have no hobbies.

  If he wanted to relax, it was usually during meals. He would nap, or he would plan what the brewery needed. On days off, he explored the city, but he had nothing to do when he was asked to relax, which was a flaw he had noticed earlier but done nothing about it.

  He considered his options. Anything outside was out of the question. As much as he would have liked to stare at the river or visit a tavern that sold his own beer, something he had been looking forward to, that wasn’t happening today.

  Being stuck reminded him of an idea he’d had once before. He left his room and, walking past Hal, called out, “I’m going to do some mage stuff. Don’t worry about it, alright?” He could see alarm rising in Hal and Mara all the same, which suggested this was not as reassuring as it sounded. He collected a magic stone from the steamer before retreating to his room and carefully closing the door.

  “Right.”

  He put the stone down on the bed next to him and summoned the hero’s sword. It landed in front of him, as though it had dropped through the ceiling, point down. He glanced up, but there was no damage.

  He reached forward, placed a hand on the pommel of the massive slab of metal, and began transferring mana into it.

  The effect was immediate and draining. He kept his hand there as exhaustion set in. The sword began to shine brightly, and Alric felt as though he were staring into the sun or worse. When it seemed to stop, or reach capacity, he pulled his hand back and breathed deeply.

  He tried to assess his state. The sword felt as though it had sucked him dry. His body felt old again. He let out a small grunt as he bent forward and lifted the magic stone.

  Squinting, he pressed the stone against the side of the blade to see what would happen.

  The stone went from inert to raging hot and shattered with a small popping noise. Alric withdrew his hand immediately, dropping the shards. Small pieces were embedded in his skin and he quickly plucked them out, both to assess the damage and because they were burning him.

  The pain subsided. He put the sword back into the item box and immediately felt his strength return. He blinked, then studied his hand. There was a small cut and several burn marks. He let out a deep breath, grateful the experiment had not cost him his hand.

  The room was uncomfortably hot now. Using his boot, he nudged the shards away from anything wooden or flammable. Satisfied he would not set the building on fire, he tried to inspect a shard, but it was still too hot to touch.

  He resummoned the sword and saw it was empty, no longer shining. That was interesting, he noted before he returned it to the item box.

  If he could find a way to slow the flow, he might have a way to charge stones when he was not around. That was worth investigating.

  Alric gathered the shards into a small pile and waited for them to cool. He opened the door to let the hot air out.

  Outside, Mara and Hal were watching the door cautiously. Alric realised the earlier light must have shone through.

  “Everything alright, boss?” Mara asked.

  Alric nodded. Confidence, when you did not know what you were doing, could get you far, at least until someone asked questions.

  “Absolutely. I do need to visit Stromni shortly, though. I’ll do it between boils. Don’t worry,” he said.

  They both nodded.

  https://www.gopubyourself.xyz/

  and

  https://www.royalroad.com/profile/167133

  For assisting me for the combat-ish section of this chapter. It is absolutely not my preferred thing to write so the help was greatly appreciated.