The voice coming from the hut asked about the grandson again, but Benjamin didn\u2019t intend to impersonate anyone.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo, no, my name is Benjamin Corvus, the Imperial\u2026\u201d he began, however decided that this time titles were not a must. He was talking to a simple man, aged, the type of which was likely rushing for a pitchfork at the first sight of officials. \u201cI study plants. Slickhaven has some magnificent specimens.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMagnificent, you say? Ohoho, not many people speak in such a manner about our mother nature\u2019s gifts these days! I am delighted to hear that,\u201d the old man replied cheerfully. \u201cBut why do you study them, grandson? Are they sick?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI shall hope not. I simply noticed they are exceptionally robust and durable, and I am in search of the cause. Would you mind if I looked around your farm, made some notes and collected samples for the herbarium? For scientific purposes, of course.\u201d<\/p>\n
The wind howled again before the other man replied.<\/p>\n
\u201cStudy away, grandson! I must apologise for not going outside. It\u2019s a bit chilly today, and these old bones are well past their prime, I\u2019m afraid! I have a feeling that if the wind pushed me but once, I\u2019d fold right where I\u2019d be standing. And standing is an issue itself.\u201d A heavy knock on the floor and a whimper were heard. \u201cThis wooden leg for support I have, just this one\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n
Benjamin set to work. The irises were first on the agenda, the sketch of which he put into his notebook alongside a detailed description of the specimen. Stem flattened, averaging twenty-something centimeters, the leaves one centimeter wide. Outer perianth sepals in the color of light lily, bent, narrowing down from the middle. In other words, it was an absolutely typical representative of its species. A pity. Benjamin hoped to observe some morphological anomaly that had prolonged their lifespan up to this point, but he found nothing. They just flourished, stubborn little things.<\/p>\n
Next on the list was the vegetable garden. The notebook was filled with huge cucumbers, heavy potatoes, shiny tomatoes and golden grains that grew beside the hut under the watchful eye of another scarecrow. It looked very much the same as the last one, and was also likely serving as a bird hotel. It looked almost identical, but\u2026 no, it wouldn\u2019t have moved on its own, after all. It must have been another.<\/p>\n
A quarter had passed, two quarters, eventually a whole hour, and with each flowery note Benjamin\u2019s own smile bloomed. A solid work! He gathered enough data for a few good letters to the Association, and all of it came from but one farm. How many more such treasure troves were there under the walls of Slickhaven? How many more oddities were left to be discovered in the town itself?<\/p>\n
\u201cGoing well, grandson?\u201d the old man spoke up. Noises suggested that he had just finished cooking, and beside the frying pan, something like a decanter and a clay cup being filled were heard. \u201cHave you found anything yet?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAll I have so far are more questions. I thought that after the verbena in the shade and that potted vetiver outside of its climate, nothing would surprise me anymore, but I haven\u2019t seen a juniper like that for a long time. Something beautiful!\u201d he replied, amazed.<\/p>\n
\u201cOhoho, you should see the forest, things really do grow beautiful there!\u201d the old man giggled. \u201cBut hardly anyone knows that anymore, because they no longer go to the forest. They don\u2019t remember! The rulers have forgotten, so the people have forgotten.\u201d<\/p>\n
Benjamin raised his head from the flowerbed as the old man continued.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou see, grandson, in the olden days they used to go to the forest. The locals knew how to live in harmony with nature and how to make use of its gifts. Because they used it wisely, the forest looked after them as they looked after it. I used to go too, when I was younger,\u201d he admitted longingly. \u201cThen the old have died, the young preferred merchants from distant countries, and there was no one to take care of their own backyard. Everyone would just take and take, because more food was needed, more wood for the buildings\u2026 sad, sad indeed.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWell, if they\u2019ve forgotten, how about reminding them?\u201d he suggested.<\/p>\n
The sky darkened, the wind moaned mercilessly, and Benjamin couldn\u2019t shake off the feeling that the old man\u2019s grievances were more than just senile whining. However, the elder laughed, coughed dryly, and knocked his cane on the floor again.<\/p>\n
\u201cOhoho, I\u2019ll remind them! The harvest on Slickhaven is near, grandson, very near. Those who have forgotten themselves will be sorry!\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDo you often talk to yourself?\u201d an approaching voice joined the conversation. Salina, clearly annoyed, was heading towards the farm. \u201cI understand that you talk about plants, but I didn\u2019t know that botanists also talk to them. Is that how you guys learn all their secrets?\u201d<\/p>\n
Benjamin glared at her like she was crazy.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat do you mean, to myself? What are you talking about?\u201d<\/p>\n
The girl rolled her eyes. \u201cAbout the fact that you were supposed to go to Radomil\u2019s farm. I\u2019ve been looking for you, but I didn’t find you. I went halfway across the village asking about an elegant man in a coat who\u2019d cuddle a celery. Fortunately, your species is rather unique around here.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s because I turned left when I was supposed to go right? I must have ended up at the wrong address, I see,\u201d Benjamin realized and waved his notebook. \u201cWell, no harm done, I took a lot of measurements, and the host was immensely helpful.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat host?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThe one who lives here?\u201d Benjamin\u2019s finger shot. \u201cIn this hut?\u201d<\/p>\n
Now it was Salina\u2019s turn to look at him as if he had gone completely mad.<\/p>\n
\u201cListen to me carefully, Mr. Botanist. I have no idea who you were talking to, but this house has been empty for a long time. The owner died of old age sometime in spring. The reverend Bishop himself conducted the ceremonies, and buried him by the church.\u201d<\/p>\n
Benjamin snickered.<\/p>\n
\u201cAn excellent jest, indeed. Forgive my colleague, sir, but someone seems to be eager to distract me from my research. We\u2019re just having a nice little chit-chat here, don\u2019t we?\u201d he asked and waited a moment, but no one answered him. Salina raised her eyebrow. \u201cHello, sir? Is this a conspiracy between you two? As a scientist, no, as a gentleman I implore you, let me get out of this with a face!\u201d<\/p>\n
The blowing wind was the only answer, cold and uncompromising.<\/p>\n
\u201cMr. Botanist\u2026\u201d Salina began, looking around. \u201cBenjamin, we should go. Something is not right here.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo, now it is a matter of the value of my word. Sir, is everything alright?\u201d Benjamin asked, and when he didn\u2019t get any reply, he headed towards the hut. \u201cWhat if he fainted? Sir, I apologize profoundly, but we\u2019re coming in!\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWait, what \u2018we\u2019?\u201d Salina protested, but followed him anyway. \u201cAre you out of your\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n
Benjamin pulled the door open, they were fortunately not locked. He stepped inside and, as expected, found himself in a single room that was a bedroom, kitchen, and living room all in one, but instead of a busy household he found something\u00a0 he had not anticipated at all. To make things worse, he didn\u2019t understand it at all.<\/p>\n
The hut was empty.<\/p>\n
The room had one door and a few windows, tightly shut, and no sign of a possible cellar. The frying pan was cold, long unused, as was the emptied fireplace, while the decanter and the mug standing on the windowsill were only filled with dust. The shelves were empty, the bed was devoid of covers and there was no trace of the host.<\/p>\n
Benjamin and Salina\u2019s attention was drawn to the table. In the middle there was a jar filled to the brim with fresh raspberries, with thick red juice dripping down its outer walls. A well-sharpened sickle lay next to it. When Benjamin leaned over, he noticed someone must have used the juice to scribble on the oaken tabletop. Mangled letters formed an inscription.<\/p>\n
THE HARVEST IS NEAR\u2026<\/em><\/p>\n <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" The voice coming from the hut asked about the grandson again, but Benjamin didn\u2019t intend to impersonate anyone. \u201cNo, no, my name is Benjamin Corvus, the Imperial\u2026\u201d he began, however decided that this time titles were not a must. He was talking to a simple man, aged, the type of which was likely rushing for […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":684,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[164],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-686","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-story"],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\n