The last time he had ventured into the village, Steven had wound up being nearly pelted to death by potatoes, one of which had actually left a visible scar above his right eye. But today the potato wielding villagers had apparently stayed home, as Steven met with no trouble buying the shovel and then returning to the Judgment Zone around The Pit.
The difficult part of the endeavor turned out to be trying to find the spot on the map where he was supposed to dig. The Judgment Zone would seem to have very distinctive land marks, with its obligatory Pit and stocks, along with an ancient felled tower of some kind that had a gnarly tree thrusting up out of its remains, and the squat little stone hut where Executioner Bailiff seemed to reside when he wasn't working, but the map rendered all of these features into similar looking blobs.
After wandering around for the better part of the afternoon, Steven finally decided to just take a gamble and dig somewhere. He came up almost at once with some kind of slime covered object. Picking it up and wiping off a bit of the slime, he recognized it as a gold bar.
Since the strategy had worked so well, Steven tried again, digging at where the map seemed to be indicating he should. Unfortunately, it turned out that he had misjudged it. What the spot on the map had actually indicated was where a tentacle of the Pit Beast lay just beneath the surface. When Steven uncovered it, it briefly grabbed him and tried to yank him down into the ground. The hole proved to be too small, and the tentacle wound up only banging Steven against the ground a couple of times before it let him go, shaken and gasping, and understandably frightened.
Hungry after the efforts of the day, stinking of The Pit, and slightly bruised from his rude introduction to the ground, Steven decided to call it quits. He would rest, regroup and try again later.
On the way back from lunch, Steven was met by Lord Spaulding, heading in the same general direction. Steven observed that his monarch looked particularly irked about something.
"Did you know that Burdley is full of squirrels?" Lord Spaulding asked.
Steven considered this and answered cautiously, "I didn't know there were squirrels, as I've never been to Burdley, but they are famously a forest dwelling people, so I suppose I just assumed-"
"They're overrun!" Lord Spaulding exclaimed, "Worse, the squirrels refuse to abide by the laws. I've written three laws already this morning, and Town Crier Olga says that Burdley hasn't sent any notice of change. I'm thinking of having her thrown into The Pit?"
"What? All of Burdley, My Lord?" Steven asked in some disbelief.
"No, Olga."
"That would be in keeping with tradition," Steven sighed, "I don't believe a single town crier has lasted more than a week since I was appointed Knight of Freedonia."
"One of them might try not ringing their bell in my face every time I come to the town square," Lord Spaulding said, "They might, but they haven't."
Remembering his own first day as knight, Steven ventured, "Have you told them what is expected of them when you appoint a new town crier?"
"I don't appoint them," Lord Spaulding snapped irritably, "Frankly, I'm not convinced Freedonia needs or wants a town crier. But every time I send one to The Pit, another one just shows up. They pop out of the ground like rabbits and I can't find what hole they're coming out of."
"Then what's the point of executing them if you know another will simply show up and behave more or less as their predecessors did?" Steven asked.
"It gives me great satisfaction, and the town square is quieter for a few minutes."
"Perhaps," Steven suggested, "if you were to put them in stocks, the square might remain quieter for longer."
"Now there's a thought," Lord Spaulding said, "A rather naïve one, but a thought nonetheless."
"Executioner Bailiff has been very busy lately," Steven pointed out, "But the constable hasn't had anything to do. All the criminals being brought in are sent straight to The Pit."
"You're a bright boy and I like you, but you just don't understand politics," Lord Spaulding told him, "For instance, I'm going to Burdley, to burn down the forest. Do you know why?"
"I can't imagine," Steven replied honestly.
"If I burn down the forest, that gets rid of the squirrels. The people of Burdley will be falling all over themselves to be annexed by the kingdom who saved them from their squirrel infestation."
"But, My Lord," Steven protested, "The people of Burdley live in the forest. You'll be burning down their homes."
"Don't be ridiculous, nobody lives in a forest," Lord Spaulding replied, "I don't know who fills your head with nonsense like that. Next you'll be telling me the Pit Beast isn't immortal."
Steven coughed, but opted not to actually say anything to this.
"Where are you going anyway?" Lord Spaulding asked, "I didn't assign you to feed The Beast today. Its so full of Consortium and Pirate criminals that it couldn't possibly be hungry."
"You did not, My Lord," Steven confirmed, "I've fulfilled my tasks for the day and so I'm helping the wizard. I've lived here all my life, so I know the area and people well-"
"And she doesn't get along with anybody," Lord Spaulding concluded, though that hadn't been where Steven intended to go at all, "I'm glad to see that you're looking past your personal feelings about her and looking out for the greater good of Freedonia."
"Yes, My Lord."
"Well, I'm off to burn down a forest if the town crier doesn't have any news. If Greta gets back before me, don't tell her where I've gone."
"Yes, My Lord," Steven answered, then paused and tried again, "I mean, no, My Lord."
"Well, whichever one you mean, it better not involve telling Greta that I'm burning down a forest," Lord Spaulding said, then waved and continued on to the town square, while Steven stopped and turned off the path at the Judgment Zone.
After messing around with the map some more, Steven finally chose a spot to dig. This time he uncovered a dagger. Like the gold bar, it was covered in a sort of murky green slime which Steven would have been happier not to have touched.
He showed the dagger and gold bar to Bailiff, who confirmed that those were the correct articles. At a loss for what else to do, Steven decided to visit Amie's tower and tell her what he'd found, and also what he'd learned. Perhaps she'd uncovered some more useful information in her archives.
Steven did not visit Amie at her home very often, partially because his first visit there had nearly resulted in a Curse being put on his head, but also because he didn't much care for the magically held together rock and moss bridge that led to the otherwise free standing plateau on which her precarious three-story tower had been built.
Still, he had agreed to help Amie, and returning with what information he'd gathered in a timely manner seemed the best way to accomplish that. This seemed to be especially the case since apparently the future of Freedonia was at stake, and they might not have much time.
Accordingly, Steven crossed the bridge and knocked on the door.
Amie's familiar voice spoke from the other side, "Enter."
Steven hesitated, because that was the exact same tone of voice she'd used to say that precise word back when they'd first met, when she had tried to Curse him. He wasn't keen on a repeat performance, especially considering her improved abilities and the greater power of her recently acquired Watcher's Staff. After taking a steadying breath, Steven entered.
Amie was leaned over her potion crafting table, working hard at something. The room was bare except for the crafting and scrying tables, its stone walls and wood flooring naked, and a single, rather cheap chandelier hanging from the ceiling. When Steven entered, Amie turned to face him.
"Well?" She asked.
"Executioner Bailiff says that the Pit Beast isn't doing well. She's been spitting up weird items, like a bar of gold and a dagger," he opted to spare Amie the look of the things unless she asked to see them.
"Well of course it is," Amie said, "It can't stomach metals. And it's probably full of them, since it's been fed so many war criminals."
"So we need to stop the metal from going in," Steven theorized, "Search people before we throw them into The Pit."
"We need to do more than that," Amie told him, "We need to take out the metal that's in there already. It's poisoning The Beast and must be removed forthwith."
"How?" Steven asked, though a sinking feeling inside told him he really didn't want to know the answer.
Amie looked at him, her eyes bright behind the mask, as she said, "Simple. We'll just feed you to The Beast, and you'll remove the metal from inside it by hand."
It took no small amount of convincing for Amie to assure Steven that she was not simply in one of her moods, and that she did not intend for him to die in The Pit. It took her still longer to convince him she wasn't completely out of her mind in suggesting such a thing. To the best of Steven's knowledge, people who went into The Pit did not come out again. Not alive anyway. That was, in short, the entire point of throwing people into The Pit.
But the way Amie explained it, they were going to feed The Beast some drugged meat, and then it would leave Steven alone while he cleared out the metal. Amie referred to the metal as being "in The Pit" but they both knew that it would be at least partially inside The Beast itself. It was one thing to jump into The Pit, but quite another to actually step into the literal Jaws of Death.
"The Beast is full to the brim with Tredony Consortium and Aarbyville Pirate," Steven pointed out, "how can we be sure it will even take the drugged meat?"
"Cut down on its food intake, and feed The Beast its favorite meat," Amie replied passively, "Which means I need to talk to Lord Spaulding about the execution schedule, and you need to hunt a bear."
"How can you be sure bear meat is the way to go?" Steven asked.
"Please. Do you think I read those dusty old archive scrolls for my own amusement? I mean, some of them are pretty funny, and you wouldn't believe some of the spelling mistakes-... but no! I know what I'm talking about. This will work."
"You're not the one jumping into The Pit," Steven observed.
"I know about The Beast academically. But you've seen it up close and in action. You know how it moves and reacts better than I do. Besides, it's been your job to feed it. If the drug doesn't work, it's possible that maybe The Beast will remember that and opt not to eat you."
"You're not exactly filling me with confidence," Steven told her.
"It'll be okay, Steven. Just trust me."
Steven realized he didn't have a lot of choice in the matter. Amie had said that The Beast would die if they did nothing, and that Freedonia would pay for its loss. Steven recalled the genuine terror in her eyes when she had first come to him. He did not know what she'd seen, but it had been some horror she had felt unable to express fully in words. It was she who could look into the future, not him.
In the end, it just made sense. Steven had trained his guards. In the event of his death, any of them could learn to take his place. But a wizard was much harder to come by. Besides, as this was a physical task and not a magical one, it clearly fell within his purview.
Even so, Steven had his doubts about the plan. Quite clearly he remembered Lord Spaulding's remark with regards to the Pit Beast, as well as Rupert's before him. If Lord Spaulding could not be convinced that The Beast was ill, it was unlikely that Amie could convince him to cut down on the executions via Pit. Even if he did so to humor her, it might not be enough. More than likely, he would cut only the Consortium or only the Pirates from the execution schedule (this being the easiest way to half the amount of meat going into The Beast on a daily basis), and Steven had his doubts as to whether The Beast would be left hungry enough to consume the drugged bear meat.
And that was if Amie could even find Lord Spaulding in time. Steven wasn't sure how long The Beast had. How long did they have to wait for it to get hungry enough to feed? If Lord Spaulding was out forest burning, would they have time to wait for him to get back? Steven didn't know the answers to these questions.
Thus it seemed prudent to stop off and ask Executioner Bailiff if there was anything the Pit Beast particularly didn't like to eat. If Steven could disguise himself in some way and make himself seem less edible, maybe that would raise his chances of survival, even if everything else went wrong.
After a long, slightly awkward silence, Executioner Bailiff finally said, "Cinnamon, sir."
"Cinnamon?" Steven repeated.
"Makes her sneeze, sir," Bailiff explained.
"Sneeze?" Steven repeated, not much liking the sound of that.
Executioner Bailiff shrugged, "It did when a squirrel covered in cinnamon jumped in The Pit."
Steven opted not to ask why the squirrel had been covered in cinnamon or why it had chosen to jump into The Pit. These seemed like questions he didn't want the answers to.
"Thank you, Bailiff," Steven said, and left the Executioner to his task.
As he was on his way out to the forest to hunt for a bear, Steven felt a sudden tap on his shoulder. He turned, but saw no one there. Then he felt a tap on his other shoulder. Turning, he still saw no one. A tap on his first shoulder annoyed him, but this time he feinted, making as if to turn in that direction, but instead turning in the other in time to see a hand raised to tap his other shoulder. He caught it by the wrist, and found it was attached to Adora, the under-spy.
She squeaked when he caught her by the wrist, and thrashed violently until he let her go, which he did almost immediately, seeing as grabbing a lady by the wrist was considered to be quite unchivalrous, even if she was sneaking up behind you and tapping you repeatedly on the shoulder.
Recovering her composure and finding herself unhurt, Adora said smoothly, "Good reflexes, Knight-Boy. You could've been an assassin."
"I prefer to look my enemies in the eye," Steven said flatly.
He'd had very little contact with Adora, but the strawberry blond with the gold and emerald hair net who routinely dressed in black had a way of slipping in and taking valuables off his person. And not just his person, either. Quite freely had she stolen from the Advorton delegation after the territory was annexed, as well as the guards assigned to security during the event.
Whereas Steven had not been appointed as Freedonia's knight until after the barracks were constructed, and Amie hired from somewhere far away after the construction of the wizard's tower, Adora had technically been the spy for Freedonia from the start, though she had flatly refused to do any work until quarters were built for her in the castle, and undoubtedly she had lived as a bandit up until then. It seemed as if she still much preferred living that way even now.
"You can look your enemies in the eye before they're dead if you use a slow acting poison," Adora pointed out cheerfully, "And the look on their face when they realize what's happening is usually priceless. I wish I had some way to capture that look for all time and hang it up on my wall, but Lord Spaulding says I'm not allowed to behead my victims and mount them. I don't see why not. He does it with grimbeasts, so I call double standard," she rolled her eyes.
Adora's attitude had the unsettling effect of reminding Steven of Witch Celeste, as the viewpoint sounded disturbingly similar.
"What do you want?" Steven asked, thinking Adora must have had some reason for purposely getting his attention as he realized she'd never addressed him directly before.
"Oh, nothing much," Adora replied casually with a bat of her eyelashes, "Just to tell you that gangs from Aarbyville seem to be slithering in our direction. That's all. I'm sure it's not important."