The Young Mother

The next day, Jess woke to birds chirping. When he sat up, he found himself lying in an enormous bed.

Enormous, at least, compared with the beds he'd slept in before.

Looking outside, he recognized Great Lake Farm. The strips of cloth around his wounds had been taken off and replaced with careful new bandages. There wasn't any blood on them.

Thinking back to the night before, he remembered being bitten quite badly.

He tried to get out of bed, but his whole body ached. His ankles and wrists hurt, too. His foot gave way, sending him stumbling into the table beside the bed. He barely caught hold of it in time to keep from falling to the floor.

"Gred?" he called. Nobody answered.

Judging by the sunlight, it was already a little past noon.

He leaned toward the window and looked out. In the farmyard, a woman sat on the steps with the sleeping baby in her arms. A few young men were busy doing something near the granary. The old woman stood not far away, watching them without moving.

The girl didn't seem to have been hurt. Jess and Gred had been far too exhausted last night to check her carefully.

After a while, the girl's mother looked up, apparently noticing Jess at the window.

She ran inside, carried the baby into another room, and came back just as Jess was trying to pull himself upright using the table.

"Sir!" She hurried over to support him. "You really shouldn't get up yet. I'm Emily Fryer, the wife of the man you met yesterday. You saved our daughter."

"I remember you." Jess felt a headache coming on, and she quickly helped him back onto the bed.

He looked around. His staff and bag were on a cabinet beneath the window. Only then did he relax.

"Where's the dwarf?" Jess asked. "How are his wounds?"

"Mr. Dwarf has some bites on his legs, but they aren't serious. He's very strong. He should recover in a few days."

Jess remembered seeing several old wolves surround Gred last night. Apparently the dwarf had still had strength to spare.

Then again, Gred always wore leather wrist guards and boots when he went out, no matter how hot it was. They were important protection against animal attacks, and they might have made all the difference.

Looking at the bright sky outside, Jess remembered promising to come to work that morning.

It was far too late now. Still, he couldn't stay here for long.

There was something he had yet to finish: that scroll, the one written in the orc language. Even after all these ridiculous adventures, his curiosity about it wouldn't leave him alone.

"Could you help me catch a wagon, Mrs. Fryer?" he asked. "As soon as possible. I need to get back to Stormwind. You can give the payment to the dwarf. I've got something urgent to do."

Love what you're reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.

"Are you really all right?" she asked worriedly. "And we haven't even had a chance to thank you properly. This morning Matt called in a few workers from nearby farms. They found some wolf carcasses, and we've prepared a meal of wolf meat. They're skinning the wolves now. Some of the hides are still in good shape. They could be sold for money or made into winter clothes. We'd like to give them to you as thanks."

At the mention of wolf meat, Jess's stomach growled, and he swallowed involuntarily.

There were wolfskin coats to be had, too. And with his whole body aching, he probably couldn't move much anyway. Maybe he'd lie down a little longer.

He let his head fall sideways and sighed. "I'd like some fruit. Do you have any? Anything is fine."

"Oh..." Emily nodded, ran into another room, and hurried back carrying a wooden tray.

"We have grapes from Northshire Abbey. I'm not sure if you'd..."

Jess plucked a grape from the tray and put it in his mouth. Good grief, it was sour enough to make his teeth ache. But there was a trace of sweetness and a little wine-like smell. They'd probably been sitting around for a while.

Still, it had been ages since he'd enjoyed the refreshing taste of sour fruit juice. Just one grape made him feel more awake. Grapes really were wonderful.

"May I ask, sir, you're quite young, aren't you?" Emily Fryer seemed to be searching for something to talk about to break the awkward silence.

"Almost eighteen," Jess said.

"I was so afraid something would happen to you last night," she said. "You're so young, yet you're doing such dangerous work. Your parents must worry about you."

Jess took another grape. "My parents don't live around here. They think I'm doing construction work in Stormwind, hauling bricks and things. They won't worry."

"But they..." Emily stopped mid-sentence as tears suddenly filled her eyes.

"I don't know. But if we'd lost little Rose, I don't know how I could have faced Matt. I don't know how I could have gone on."

Watching her lower her head, Jess felt uncomfortable too. If his own parents knew what he was doing here, they might do anything to make him return to Lordaeron.

"All right, all right. Don't try to win me over with tears," he said. "Finding an extra child costs extra, you know. Do you have any idea how disgusting it is crawling into a wolf den? We agreed on two silver with your husband yesterday, so it's two silver. The wolf meat and hides don't count toward that. I never said I wanted them. And these grapes don't count either."

"They don't, they don't." The woman wiped her eyes and forced a small smile. "The money's ready. We'll give it to you when you leave."

"Oh, and another thing," Jess said. "Remember to get your daughter checked, preferably by a priest. You know about the living dead down south, right? We're worried the trouble with the wolves might be connected to them."

The woman nodded seriously. "We know. We're going into town tomorrow afternoon. We'll have her examined then."

"Good." Jess lay back down and groaned. "I want to rest a little more. It hurts."

After the young Mrs. Fryer left and gently closed the door, Jess finally felt his mood lighten.

He didn't have to think about the frustrating problems concerning his parents, problems he couldn't solve anyway.

Instead, he thought about the wolves from last night, the pack that had surrounded him and Gred, and the Fear spell he'd managed to cast.

He wasn't even sure it had been Fear. According to the game, Fear could only frighten one target. And when Gakin used it in the Old Town street, it hadn't frightened Surena Caledon.

The Fear spell Jess had cast back at Gakin hadn't affected Surena, who had been standing nearby, either.

So what had happened last night?

His eyes fell on the staff leaning against the wall, the one he'd taken from the orc warlock.

He still remembered that night. After speaking the incantation, he couldn't see clearly anymore. Only the evil light the staff had given off as the spell went out had stayed in his mind. Looking back on it now, it almost felt like a hallucination.

He loosened some of the cloth wrapped around the staff, but found no magical patterns or gems that could have produced that light.

Could the staff really strengthen dark magic?

He couldn't remember any ordinary staff in the game with such a special effect. But he also knew it was a mistake to apply the game's rules and numbers directly to the real Azeroth.

Besides, an ordinary orc warlock couldn't possibly own an artifact more powerful than countless legendary staves. Not even a member of the Shadow Council could.

Come to think of it, he still hadn't learned much about how staves actually affected magic in this world.

"Jess." Gred had appeared at some point and was now standing in the doorway to another room, watching him. "I've just had a great idea."