One Moo'r Plow

Book 1: Chapter 14: Deafening silence.

Blood dripped from my ears. I could smell it as I staggered away. The world spun in a blurred rotation before me. Everything inside my skull decided to hurt all at once. And through it all, the crushing, desolate silence reigned. Both my eardrums were burst.

It hurt. Beyond anything I had felt in this world.

The pain inside throbbed between sharp and dull with every breath I took. I tripped and found myself in the dirt. Picked back up and clutched my head as I staggered onwards. Back to the house. Needed something. Anything.

Pain ruled my existence. How could a scream hurt like that?

Mandrake. Or something close to it. I realized. Never liked old folklore much.

Should have probably paid attention. Gods, it hurt. The sound had gone directly to my brain.

Chills went through me. I remembered that mandrake screams were fatal. Better hope these werent the same monster. My memories slogged together with the original Gareks as I tried to pick apart what was what. Not much success.

Pain was weakness leaving the body, my furred ass. I snarled, aware somehow. Trying to distract myself from the sheer, mind-numbing pain. Found myself at the house suddenly. Threw open the door and almost fell inside as a fresh wave of pain almost crippled me.

Why was that scream so powerful?

Sense of balance was horrible. I crashed into the table and dropped to my knees as I fought the urge to wretch my guts up. Thoughts came in sharp burst from the haze of pain. Gods it hurt.

I was a minotaur. This sort of pain was something Garek had never experienced. Magical fuckery.

Should kill the plants, I thought. I fumbled for bandages from the counter. Swiped away objects. Needed to stop the bleeding. Didnt want to pass out bleeding directly from my skull. Normal burst eardrums shouldnt have this affect on me. But this world wasnt normal.

I wrapped cloth bandages around my head. Was aware it didnt fix the problem inside. Didnt care. Just needed the bleeding to stop.

My hands trembled when I finished. Not good. Fucking mandrake. I glanced at one of Gareks spears propped up by the back wall. Should go and kill those plants right now. Realized it was a stupid decision made by anger. And for a while, I just sat on the floor, blood-stained bandages wrapped around my head. Alone in the silence.

That was worse than the pain. The absolute lack of any sound. Could be a war outside my door right now, and I wouldnt know. No chitter-chatter of birds. No sound of the wind. No gurgle of the stream. Couldnt hear the cows in the pasture. No laughter of the crows as they harassed smaller birds in the trees.

Nothing. I saw a bowl fall off the table right in front of me and didnt hear the clatter.

I needed a healing potion. But I had none on the farm. I staggered upright and leaned against the houses wall. Realized I had no clue where to go for one either. No choice but to wait for ishila to come back. Gods, I relied on that girl for so much now.

The smell of my own blood and the stench of meat inside the house roiled my stomach, and I staggered back outside. I could feel the warm wind on my face now, but couldnt hear its whisper. Dread nestled further into my stomach. A welcome distraction from the haze of pain.

I was fucked up good. Dangerous plant. Would have to make sure Ishila knew. But it was the right kind of dangerous. The profitable kind. The kind I wanted. I could already think of uses for it. Forced myself to do so as I collapsed into the shade of the massive tree in my yard. Anything to get my mind off the throbbing pain in every corner of my skull.

Could fucking plant them in pots, sell them to adventurers. Needed to fuck up an entire crowd of enemies? Stick in earplugs and toss the blasted thing at whatever was in your way. Dungeons, sieges, anything that involved crowds of people.

There were no birds above the field, I realized with a start. But there were corpses on the soil. They usually circled and would drop down to peck at the dirt for seeds that hadnt taken yet. The scream had outright killed them, I realized with a chill. The same dread continued as I realized that my massive form didnt make me invulnerable. Hard to kill physically, but that was not the end-all.

Might be perfect for scarecrows, I realized. Birds werent stupid. That was how I had kept crows away from my poultry back home. Hung their carcasses from posts where I kept my animals. Crows saw it, realized there was something there that had killed one of theirs and stayed away. Smart birds.

I didnt have to make a mandrake scarecrow to scare them off or anything. I just had to hang their bodies on a stick.

My balance wasnt good enough for that, I discovered. Sat myself back down and slumped back, looking out over my farm. So many different things I wanted to do, but my head demanded otherwise. Still, I tried to force myself to be productive. The first thing was that I couldnt rely on just rain to grow my crops. It was a problem that plagued every farmer, but I wanted a solution if the years rainfall was poor.

I had a healthy stream next to my house. No idea where the water ran from up the mountain, but it came steadily, and I had to make use of that. I had no fancy pipes for irrigation, first of all. Buckets and watering by hand could work, but it was inefficient.

I could dam the stream and then dig irrigation trenches towards the field. A lot of work, but that was most things. Would need to make overflow conditions to keep the water running downstream though. No idea how many other people and farms relied on this for water, and I wasnt about to be a prick who hogged it for himself. Too many bad experiences with that back home.

Mentally, I walked myself through the paces. I would need Ishila, lots of wood, and patience. You couldnt just drag a dam in a river and call it quits. I wanted water to spill over and continue downstream, but also move towards an irrigation trench Id dig towards the fields. Maybe a holding pool?

I was so lost in my thoughts that I failed to see Ishila arrive. Hours had passed, I realized with a start as I felt her hand clap on my shoulder. A worried expression was etched on her face as she looked at the bloodied bandage around my head. The world was quiet as I tried to explain what happened.

My mouth moved and lungs pushed out air, but I heard nothing as I tried to explain the mandrake to her. But the lass caught on quickly. She pointed at my ears and I shook my head. I couldnt hear anything. She mimed a healing potion and I nodded. Without any further ado, she was gone. I watched as she sprinted up the road, dust in her wake.

Although, it wasnt all bad. She had even brought me a hat. With holes cut into it for my horns. I held it gingerly, a pained smile on my face. I wanted to try it on, but it wasnt going anywhere near my blood-stained scalp.

Having Gol soundlessly loom beside me was a fright. I was startled as the massive beast just appeared at my side. I would have sniffed him out, even with my dead hearing, blood permeated every sense I possessed. Instead, I just slumped as he sniffed at my ears, suddenly extremely interested in my well-being.

Im not dying yet, you lazy shit. Is what I hope I said.

Ishila was back long before I expected her. The orc lass came down the road at breakneck speeds, flustered and exhausted. Gods, how fast had she run? She flopped down in front of me, a crimson flask in her hand.

She mimed instructions, and I removed the thoroughly soaked bandage from my skull. I could see the grimace on her face as she tilted my head sideways and poured the liquid into one ear. I could roughly feel it slosh around, then evaporate. Same with the other one. It tasted sour going down my throat in a burning rush.

With that, Ishila squatted back on her heels and watched.

A tingling burn spread through my skull, and sensation began to return. I could faintly make out words as she spoke.

-an you hear me? The sound came from far away, but it was there. With a grimace, I nodded. Relief returned to her features, and her usual grin slipped back into place.

Your lucky ma believes in keeping the healin potions in iron flasks and not glass potion bottles, She grimaced herself. Tripped on the way here and nearly had to go back.

But you got here anyway, I rumbled. Gods, it felt so good to be able to hear things again. Thank you.

Her frown returned as I explained the mandrake and how to recognize them.

Theyre dangerous, She frowned. But so is everything else. We need wax and cloth to plug our ears when working with them. Wax for this, armor for the biters, and the acid. I think we should just build storage space for dedicated safety gear at this point.

You present an excellent point. I sighed. The wood I brought to erect a shed for the cows can be used for that instead.

Good. Dont wanna run home for my armor every time you want to handle the biter pods anyhow.

So? I grunted. I take the young couple received our gift with gratitude?

The lass snorted, a cheeky grin on her face. Her fangs appeared more obvious than usual as she grinned from ear to ear.

Gratitude? She asked. Have you ever seen someone burst into almost spontaneous tears? I watched both of them tear up real good when I told em it was a gift. Theyre just a small place without cows and were havin to buy milk at cutthroat prices from another farmer down the road, from what I understood of his blubberin. Real mighty overjoyed at such a neighborly gift. Tried to foist a whole bunch of hats on me when I asked bout one.

You didnt take them?

Eh, woulda been too small for you anyway.

I nodded, a happy smile on my face despite the pain.

Well, I cant work too much myself today, so were not doing anything. I offered. Care to stay for supper or somesuch?

She did, and the day faded as we discussed upcoming projects on the farm, what we needed and who it would be beneficial to get in touch with. Ishila seemed to be of the idea that once the fields were seeded, I should go and meet the neighbors. I didnt disagree. I couldnt stay holed up forever and just drown myself in work. Wasnt healthy. And if problem times came, I would rather have friends to call upon than a small bit of progress more in some project.

And so ended another day. A painful one, yes, but one well spent.