The Gaming Outpost

Lancome’ Rembrose lurched to his feet, and thudded down the survey report so that it spun a quarter-turn on the refugee from Mum’s ‘Attic’. In Lady Rembrose’s private castle, Woodford, fourteen thousand square feet held items from all the way back to a rusty table knife used by the first Rembrose to demonstrate his superior table manners to the barbs he had conquered. Here, Lan had contrived a love of the past as a safeguard against becoming like another young lordling with his nose expanded on coke, and his brains equally diminished.

Lan stomped over the dirty tarp, his ruddy curls brushing the tent roof, to the open inverted V of the tent front. Outside in the cool drizzle of Regla Isle, just north of Rembrose Isle, he hollered out over the storage tents with their tray-laden tables and open sides, the four trucks, the digger in bright blue, the staff tents, and the empty cafeteria tent.

“Maggggeeeeee!”
A moment passed, and then an enchanting lilt came drifting back.
“Be there in a mo, love.”
Scarce a minute later, Maggie Thorenson, her brunnette ponytail bobbing, her (actually his) once white linen button-up shirt dwarfing her slender frame, and her work pants tucked in to her jodhpurs, came bouncing around the corner of the Temval truck. The mere sight of her eased his frown, and she came up to him, and kissed him quickly on the lips before pushing him back with fingertips into the office tent.

“Fiance’ of mine, what has you in a bother, now?”
“Dear heart,” And so it was between them. He had agreed to marry her because it made her happy. Unlike many of his peers he had no great animus against the institution. And he intended to die, in bed, with a tearful white-haired Maggie looking down on him anyways. So it was no skin off his nose to marry her next summer.
“You mean other than the superstitious peasants deserting our dig site, the ever present rain, and the way my peers in the newspaper business are using me as a joke?”
She reached out and hugged him.
“Puir, wee man. So beset by the world’s troubles.” She spoke sarcastically, but real concern was only a skin’s depth away. He sagged into her arms, and they ended up with him sitting on the desk, and her curled up on his lap.
“So…”
“The second set of deep ground X-rays is coming up with zilch.”

She bent over and scooped up the offending package of papers. She shook her head and whistled.
“So unless something the size of a mountain is buried under the ‘mountain’, we’re getting seriously screwy readings.”

He pressed his head with a free hand, until she began massaging his temples.

“We’re running low on grant money. We could take off six months, go sailing, and when the next tax day comes in, I’d have more money.” He suggested, but his voice told that he hated the idea. In exchange for letting his older brother, Ranulf, take the family council seat, and the primary castle at Hughsland, he received a very sizable stipend on tax day annually as well as the manor at Fairacre. It was a good deal all around since it gave Ran something to do to keep him from gambling at the horses, and Lan got to add luster to the family name by occasionally finding ancient bits of this and that.

“You could hit Ranulf up for a loan….?”
He nodded, but without happiness.
“I have some cash…” He shook his head violently at that.
“Since you have some money, the papers don’t call you a golddigger. Which they should not. But lose that money,and they will. And then I’ll have to punch someone in the face, and I haven’t done that since Advanced Preparatory.”
She giggled. Lan got angry and even fussed, but he was never violent, even stopping his car to let squirrels pass.

“Um…you could apply to the X-ray company for a grant.”
“Ehh?” He wrinkled his head in puzzlement.
“OK. Either there equipment is broken which they won’t believe, or something odd is going on with their equipment for whatever reason. They need to know about that.”
“Ka-ching.” Lan said softly, and lifted his darling from his lap, although pausing for a kiss.
“I need to call some folk.”
Thirty minutes later, he had ample finances, plus the promise of free use of an X-ray deep image machine for searching many yards into the earth.

With the cash in hand, the next day, Lan went with Maggie to the nearby village of Blessing. Here his workforce had come from, until they became convinced the Old Man of the ‘Mountain’ was out to get them.

“Given that the ‘Mountain’ is about thirty feet tall in the midst of peat moors, that means the Old Man must be an infant about six inches tall.” Lan jibed, and Maggie giggled.

With the money in hand, Lan began to talk to various workers. He chose the most influential first, and he and Maggie worked on him. After that, it got easier. You just mentioned that Local Man of Importance was with you, and they should be a well.

It took the whole day, but holding a large meeting like last time while much quicker would have failed as mob fears took over.

The next day would be digging.