After the Second Fall Pt. 03.1

The man looked up at Pip, then back to Rachel. "Does he speak?"

Pip folded his arms, his look displeased. "Yes, I speak."

"Just checking," the man said calmly. "Sometimes your kind are a little slow in the head."

"My kind?"

"Sure, the ones descended from rejects. No offense, of course. Not everybody can be like Piper."

'Seriously?' asked the look Pip sent to Rachel, who grinned back at him.

"Right, so assuming I'm not too slow, would you be interested in a trade?"

The man's face furrowed. "Truth be told, I don't need much done. This old place basically takes care of herself, so other than getting some of the local youngsters to unload the ale, I have it about covered."

"So if you don't trade, how do you survive -- what do people give you for your food?"

"Chits, of course," the man said, pulling a plastic disk out of his pocket. "We use them for barter in this area, on account of good plastic being so hard to find. If you do work for somebody else in town, they can pay you in chits, and then you can pay me for food and a bed. I, uh, don't have anything your size, by the way."

'Does this make sense to you?' Pip signed to Rachel, who quickly nodded.

'There is a similar system in Rieckenburg, but with metal coins. I am surprised you never encountered it.'

Shrugging, Pip turned back to the man. "Could you point us toward somebody that might need help? It's the wrong time of year, but I know how to work the fields, and I can do some basic carpentry, plus just about any other kind of manual work."

"Do you know how to read?"

Pip's face fell. "Not so well, but Rachel does," he said with a flick of his chin.

"Like, really read, so it's nice to listen to?"

Smiling, Rachel nodded and the man's face lit up. "Listen, my name is Raleigh," he said, shaking her hand and ignoring Pip entirely. "Give me a moment and I'll be right back." The man limped away quickly toward the front of the room, where he grabbed up three pieces of paper from one of the tables.

"Hey!" yelled the guy that had been reading one of them, but his objection went unheeded.

Raleigh handed the papers to Rachel, his eyes eager. "So, can you read them?"

She quickly perused the sheets, then nodded again. "It won't be a problem."

"If you'll read to us, I'll give you a meal for free." Raleigh looked up to Pip. "You... you're too big. Sorry," he added as an afterthought.

"What if I read more?" Rachel offered.

"I eat like a bird," Pip offered. "A small one." He held up his hands close together, barely a hand's width apart.

Eyes narrowed suspiciously, Raleigh stared up at the much bigger man. "The same amount she gets, and only if she's really good."

Pip grinned and held out his hand, which Raleigh reluctantly shook.

When the proprietor looked back to Rachel, his face had regained its warmth. "How about you start reading while I get your food ready?"

Rachel laughed at the owner's maneuvering. "It's okay, I can wait for my meal, and if you were in the back you wouldn't be able to hear me."

Looking sheepish, Raleigh pointed to the counter running across the back half of the room. "Would you mind standing up there so everybody can hear?"

Nodding indulgently, Rachel held out her arms to Pip, who carried her easily across the room and set her on the bar, then stepped around behind so that she could hold his shoulder for support. In less than a hundred beats, about a dozen sets of eyes were looking up at her, some skeptical and others looking almost as excited as Raleigh.

"Fight summary," she read, her voice loud enough to carry to the back of the room. "Antagonists: from the city of Rieckenburg, Alger; from the city of Verstapten, Emiri." Pip tensed at hearing the words, then relaxed, fascinated that such accounts existed at all -- he hadn't realized a fight was so close when he sent Alger back to the Complex.

The report went on to describe the combatants' physical features and how they looked entering the Arena; there were apparently people that watched the building so they could describe what happened with people coming and going. Pip chuckled to himself when Alger was described as light skinned and heavily muscled, given that neither comment was quite accurate.

As Rachel continued, Pip was surprised and then shocked at the amount of detail the summary contained; he was soon every bit as enthralled as the rest of Rachel's audience.

The doors are open and both fighters step into the Arena. The Adam from Rieckenburg looks calm as he slowly circles to the left. Across from him, his opponent is jittery and full of energy, bouncing rapidly from foot to foot. The first strike comes from Alger, but it's tentative, just trying to find his range.

There's a sudden flurry of activity as Emiri charges forward, elbows and knees flying. Alger takes a hard shot off the shoulder, and another to his thigh. He's hurt, but it's not bad. Emiri is grinning wildly as he continues to dance around. Another charge, but it's a feint! Emiri wheels around to strike Alger from the side, but the fighter from Rieckenburg is ready and he backpedals quickly. They're back to even with Alger still circling to the left.

The account continued for more than a quarter bell, the drama high as the two fighters slugged it out. According to the report, Alger was outclassed for much of the fight, staring up at his own death, when the other fighter stumbled in the sand and provided the briefest opening. Following a desperate grapple, Alger emerged victorious, but barely conscious.

The report described the physical states of both fighters as they were wheeled out of the Arena on gurneys. The fighter from Verstapten was dead, but the report took time to detail the various visible injuries, including what appeared to be a badly fractured jaw and several missing fingers.

There was silence for several beats as Rachel finished the account, then the room erupted with noise. There were arguments, both good-natured and otherwise, about the fight and the fighters.

Rachel grinned at Pip as he lifted her off the counter and carried her back to their table. Raleigh arrived shortly thereafter with two plates containing potatoes, beans, and a dark meat in gravy; the sight made Pip's mouth water and the smell made his stomach rumble. He barely noticed that the proprietor was still there, thanking Rachel vociferously for the retelling.

"Little Joe can read alright, but it's not like being there in the Arena. The way you read is just fantastic."

"Thank you, Raleigh. I am curious, when was this fight?"

"Just yesterday, which is why everybody was so excited to hear about it."

"Do you have other, older fights?"

Raleigh smiled smugly. "Lots of them. Some of them aren't so good -- most of the Reaper's fights are pretty boring -- but there are some dandies I kept around, just in case. I'll go pick out a few of my favorites and maybe you can read one or two more?" he asked, looking meaningfully at Pip's rapidly disappearing food.

After a nod from Rachel, Raleigh disappeared into a back room as quickly as his bum leg would allow.

"I didn't know accounts of the matches existed. Who puts that together?"

Rachel put some food in her mouth, then set her utensils down so she could sign. 'I do not know, but I am sure it is not accurate. I believe they create a narrative to match the injuries they observe as the fighters leave.'

'And I am boring because I have not been seriously injured?'

Rachel shrugged and took another bite as Raleigh arrived back at the table, slightly out of breath. "The best one is the last fight that Mars had." He looked at Pip, saying, "He's my favorite."

"Because he's so big?" guessed Pip, but Raleigh shook his head.

"Cause he's crazy. The stuff he's done in the Arena... I bet if he were from another city, he could take down Piper. I'd put a day's worth of chits on it."

Pip nodded sagely, then looked to Rachel, who was doing her best to suppress a grin by pushing beans into her mouth.

"You don't think Piper's very good then?"

"Oh, he's good," Raleigh said as he looked around, then he leaned his head close, whispering conspiratorially, "but I think it's mostly hype."

"Oh?"

Raleigh proceeded to tell Pip his theory of how Rieckenburg and Northumberland had conspired to build up Piper as an unbeatable hero, just in time to sign their treaty. The assassination attempt -- ha! -- was obviously staged, and just another attempt to scare the other cities off.

Tears were slowly leaking from Rachel's eyes and her cheeks were red as she watched Pip's face. The Adam seemed to be enjoying hearing about himself from an expert, and his expression was one of rapt attention.

"You make a strong argument," said Pip seriously while nodding his head in agreement, which caused Rachel to bark out a loud laugh, then start coughing to try to hide it. The proprietor turned, concerned that his new entertainer might be choking, but relaxed when he saw she was okay.

"Are any of Piper's fights good?"

Thinking for a moment, Raleigh answered, "The one where he kidnapped the fighter from Marbelo was kind of interesting, but just because it was so strange. Who would do that?" His eyes narrowed. "Why so many questions about the Reaper? Wait, you're from the city, aren't you?"

Pip hesitated for a moment, then nodded, as if he was trying to figure out how to answer. "We are, but we lived in the North part of their holdings, where the washouts go."

"Have you seen Mars?"

"Was he the big one with blonde hair or the stocky bald one?" Pip asked Rachel, whose face took on a serious look.

Raleigh answered for her. "The big one, I know it. So you did see him?"

"Sure," Pip replied easily, "and he really is huge, like way bigger than me," he continued, holding his hand far above his own head. "Big shoulders, big legs, long reach. He might be the best fighter in the world -- after Piper, of course," he finished with a conspiratorial wink.

"Right, right," replied Raleigh, looking around suspiciously, then he tapped his nose and walked off toward the other occupied tables.

"Well, that was fun," Pip said quietly to Rachel, whose eyes were still watery.

"I was laughing so hard, I think I peed myself a little," she replied, her eyes bright and smile wide. "Are you going to tell them?"

He shrugged. "Someone will figure it out eventually, and then... who knows? For now, I'm content to let them believe whatever they want."

As if on cue, Raleigh made another appearance. "I asked around a little for you, and our carpenter -- his name is Fred -- could use some help cutting down a few trees. Would that suit you?"

"Definitely," Pip answered with a smile. "Thank you for your help."

Raleigh was already looking at Rachel. "You read so well, a couple of the fellas think their wives might be willing to pay for you to teach reading to their kids."

Rachel smiled sweetly and nodded. "Thank you, Raleigh, we appreciate your help very much." The proprietor bowed his head, possibly to hide his reddening cheeks, then went to see to his other customers. Half a bell later, Rachel stood on the bar again, reading the classics Raleigh had selected to a spellbound audience, this time almost twice the size.

After two days felling and milling trees by hand, Pip spent a week working a bellows for the blacksmith, then two weeks making more blank horseshoes than the town would need for a year. Additional odd jobs followed, including digging a new well, patching several roofs damaged during a wind storm, and helping round up semi-emaciated cattle on three different occasions.

As for Rachel, Fitzen should have had a school, given that it had more than a hundred permanent residents, but it didn't. Instead they relied on proverbs, fables, and old wives' tales to instruct their children, generation after generation. Unsurprisingly, with Rachel now providing individual lessons to some of the children, it didn't take long for the town -- mostly the wives, actually -- to decide that she would make a fine teacher for the rest. Meeting for three bells each morning, Rachel taught eight students the basics of reading, writing, and arithmetic. The class had started at fourteen, which probably would have been too much for her to handle, but dropped within a week when almost half the students decided they didn't need fancy ed-u-ma-kashon.

"Are you happy, Rach?" Pip asked one evening as they laid together on the floor of their room.

"Happy enough," she answered, snuggling into his chest. "What's on your mind?"

"I thought getting away from the city would be more somehow. We've been gone quite a while now, and the grand total of that effort was one night on a blanket with Mitsy."

"What about all the nights with me?" she asked after poking him in the ribs.

"You would have been with me anywhere."

Rachel snuggled a little closer. "That's true. If it makes you feel better, I spent several afternoons with Lucille. I enjoyed those quite a lot."

He chuckled. "I figured, but still, we've been gone a long time."

"So time to find you another local girl. Is that what you're saying?"

"What? No --"

"I'm teasing, Pip," she said with an easy grin. "You think it's time to move on?"

Sighing, he replied, "In the Spring, probably, as soon as the main risk of snow is gone. What do you think?"

"I'm with you, anywhere you go."

There was a brief moment where Pip looked like he was going to get angry, then he flopped his head down on the thin feather pillow that had come with the room. "You're just going to keep saying things like that, aren't you?"

"I've already found myself, Pip -- I know what I'm suppose to do. This journey is about you doing the same."

Pip looked up at the ceiling, his eyes tracing the exposed beams and shoddy-looking boards that made up the floor of the attic, and as he did, his mind wandered. He thought about the people they had encountered and his new experiences. He considered the many hours spent together with Rachel, and how he had never felt closer to anyone, even John. "Thanks, Rach, I think I'm starting to understand.

"If you could, would you like to see Lucille again?"

She smiled and reached around to take his penis in her hand. "I would. We had been spending a lot of time together when Bert kicked us out."

"Oh, really -- like how much?"

"A lot," Rachel replied happily, now stimulating Pip more intentionally.

Pip's phallus jerked and Rachel smiled. "I got to know her body so well that she would start trembling as soon as I got close. The day before we left, I was sitting next to her at dinner, teasing her with little pokes and glancing touches. When Mitsy went to get the dessert -- I think it was bread pudding with nuts, the one you liked so much -- I touched her knee under the table in this way she likes..."

"And?" Pip rasped.

"She came, Pip, violently, down her leg and the chair. It was beautiful. She was holding onto my wrist and the table to keep from falling over." Pip bucked and Rachel paused her retelling, focusing on his pleasure.

"Is that a true story?" he asked, his voice sounding strained.

"Yes, and I'm pretty proud of it, too," Rachel said, her face beaming. "You know the worst part?"

"No," laughed Pip. "What was the worst part?"

"It took us almost half a bell to clean up after the meal. She came so much that she soaked the carpet under the table. We tried hard to get it all out, but I bet if we ever go back, it will still smell like her."