It took no time to get Barnaby into some strength enhancement straps, pulling the weight-modified wagon toward Thornhold. Especially since Jacob no longer needed to wait for the caravan with guards.
"Don't worry, Barnaby," Jacob told his mule while rubbing his snout and feeding him a carrot, "if any goblins hop out of the woods, I'll take care of them with magic!"
The wagon wheels sank into the spring mud easily, creating deep ruts, but the weight-modification and strength enhancements reduced the drag enough that Barnaby didn't even seem to notice.
The forest path to the main highway was not as bad as the village roads were. The trees seemed to readily drink up the water, making the topsoil that was covered in leaves and needles from the evergreens the only source of mud that was susceptible to ruts.
Jacob was currently walking with Barnaby, hand on the hilt of his sword and ready for any sudden ambushes.
The sword itself was the last line of defense, but he gripped it in nervousness regardless. The link between his weapon and his brigand coat also reassured him of the enchanted armor's readiness for battle.
Without any encounters with the goblins that frequented the area, Jacob made it to the main road running from Spring City to Thornhold and turned left to the frontier town. This was where he felt comfortable enough to sit in the driver's seat of the wagon.
The limestone path was in much better condition than the village roads, so the ruts were minimal, and Barnaby seemed to enjoy the sure footing.
"The road seems to be quite desolate, dontcha think Barnaby?"
The mule flicked his ears, hearing his name from the young farmer, but he refrained from giving a verbal response as his eyes were fixed on the road ahead.
"You just take us down the road and let me know if you see anything suspicious. I'm going to be trying a couple of things back here."
Barnaby just kept doing his job, while Jacob decided to try a few things with the static electricity he had been able to produce by controlling the wind with his magic.
If I remember correctly, this static is basically the same thing as lightning. So, I should be able to produce lightning if I can just do what is happening here. Create a charge imbalance, then let physics do its thing. If physics even works the same here?
As he manipulated the ice and wind, he felt for the magic governing the imbalance in the charge and unleashing the sparks of electricity.
Since it was his own mana producing the effect, he could actually feel it as he watched the little sparks leap from shard to shard.
Interesting, I can't tell where any charges build up. It just feels like the energy holding the ice together just suddenly becomes electricity.
The time on the road passed quickly as he struggled to understand where the electricity was coming from and how he could easily reproduce the effect as a spell. Before he was able to decipher the secret, he found himself quickly approaching the front gate of Thornhold.
He looked up from his magic to see the imposing wooden walls that could hold back a monster horde. Down the road in front of him, he could see the end of a line waiting to get into the gate. There were more guards on duty than he remembered there being previously.
The guards on duty wore the polished breastplates of the city watch, but their faces were unfamiliar to Jacob.
They looked tired and aggressive. It seemed that news of the goblin raid in the southwestern forest had reached the garrison, causing the city to put more guards on duty and ordering a high alert.
"Halt the animal," the lead guard barked as Jacob finally made it to the front of the line.
He gripped his spear with both hands while his eyes scanned the empty crates in the back of the wagon. "Are you traveling alone? Where is the rest of your group? Don't you know that goblins have been seen in the area you just came from?"
Jacob remained on the bench, controlling the reins. "I'm just coming from Ruvka to pick up a shipment, and I witnessed the goblin raid firsthand. They attacked our farm. But the militia took care of that, so I figured the roads would be safe."
The guard shook his head in disappointment. Something about this situation just didn't feel right to him. So, he signaled toward a small stone building just inside the gate, and the guard stationed in front of him gave a nod before going inside.
"Goblin raids are rarely destroyed completely. Typically, they scatter, which is the case with this latest horde. The roads are even less safe than they normally would be right now. It seems that you are lucky to have been following behind that last caravan. They had some trouble with the goblins on the way up here from what they were saying."
As the guard finished his lecture, a young man stepped out of the stone hut. He wore thick, padded leather and wielded a staff with a large yellow gem affixed to the top. As he approached the wagon, he pointed his staff at it and began to stare at the space directly in front of his face, as if he were reading something only he could see.
After a moment, the young man turned to the lead guard. "The wagon and all of his equipment are enchanted. Even the harness for the mule is enchanted."
The young man stood by as the lead guard turned back to Jacob. "Now, what is a child like you doing wandering around with such enchanted equipment? Do you know that it is against the law for a wizard to disguise himself to enter a city of the Sinclair Kingdom?"
That last bit threw Jacob off, not expecting to be accused of being a wizard.
"Uh, well," Jacob began to stammer in reply, "I'm not a wizard, I'm Jacob Hemlock, just a farmer on a trial year."
As he reached for his neck to pull out his medallion, the lead guard reached for the reins.
"We all know about trial years from Ruvka, and that would be a great cover for someone disguised as a child."
Before he could finish, Jacob was pulling out his medallion while a guard in the back, who was busy checking manifests for the last grain cart that had pulled into the gates, walked up to the lead guard with a look of urgency on his face.
"Captain! I recognize this young man. He comes with the Ruvka caravan from time to time."
And just as Jacob presented his medallion, causing the eyes of the Captain go wide and his hand to shoot away from the reins as if they were hot steel, the other guard leaned in to whisper so Jacob would be unable to hear him. "He is the one I was talking about the other day. He made the sergeant's identification skill glitch out."
"A free-roaming youth of Ruvka," the Captain muttered, now looking a bit nervous. The other guards were now staring at the Captain as their hands went to their weapons. They knew the royal decree, and the Captain was moments from being arrested by his own men for violating the law by blocking the path of a Ruvka youth on his trial year.
The second guard, still by his captain's side, grabbed the man's shoulder to help him get a grip. "You need to let him pass, sir. Remember the agricultural decree."
The captain cleared his throat as his discipline returned to him.
Stepping aside, he motioned for Jacob. "You are free to pass, young Hemlock. I apologise for the delay."
He bowed slightly to the young man as he said this, clearly a bit nervous still.
Jacob smiled and waved them off as he signaled for Barnaby to continue forward. "No need for apologies, sir. I know safety is quite important, especially with the goblins going on raids around here."
His words seemed to calm the Captain down as he visibly relaxed, as if a weight had been taken off his shoulders. His men also relaxed their stances, glad to not have to take their leader into custody.
Jacob just observed the city as Barnaby moved forward, his hooves clicking rhythmically on the cobblestones of the streets inside the walls.
He quickly made his way to the trade district, where the distinct sound of hammers rhythmically shaping steel could be heard as it rang throughout the streets.
He pulled Barnaby to a stop in the small courtyard in front of his favorite blacksmith's workshop. A young stable boy scurried out from the shadows of the neighboring stalls, his eyes fixed on the leather of the mule's strength-enhanced harness.
Jacob hopped down from the bench and handed the stable boy a silver coin. "Take care of him. He needs fresh water and a proper rubdown. He's earned it today."
The boy looked at the silver with wide eyes and nodded frantically. He unhooked Barnaby and led the mule toward the shaded stalls while Jacob turned to the open doors of the forge.
The blacksmith stepped out into the daylight, wiping black soot from his thick forearms with a worn cloth. He looked at the wagon, then at the empty road behind it. He walked a slow circle around the cart, his brow furrowed in apparent confusion.
"Jacob," the smith began, gesturing at the nearly empty flatbed. "I have the central drive shaft, the cutting blades, and the sorting assembly ready for you. That is nearly two tons of precision brass and treated iron. I was expecting a team of oxen and a long-haul caravan. You show up with a single mule and three medium-sized crates. How do you intend to haul all of these parts back to Ruvka with only this?"
Jacob smirked as he leaned against the wagon. Looking at his latest masterpiece, the three crates, he looked back at the blacksmith.
"I assure you," he said, "these crates will be more than enough. As a matter of fact, I would be surprised if you filled all three. I only brought the third one just in case. Trust me, just put everything into those crates."
The blacksmith shook his head before heading into the smithy. He brought out a large piece of the harvester that obviously would not fit into the crates.
"I don't know what game you're playing at, boy." The smith said as he started to put one end of the part into the opening of the first crate. "But I don't... "
The words died in his throat as the crate seemed to open its mouth and swallow the part in one gulp. The entire piece fit inside the crate without any part sticking out, nor did the box seem to strain. Even the cart seemed the same as it was before, as if the weight added was negligible.
Jacob laughed as he witnessed the look of confusion on the face of the blacksmith.
"You should know that I have magic tools on my farm, this should be no surprise, old man."
The blacksmith shook his head and looked at Jacob in a new light. Then he thought for a moment.
"You know, if you can make another box like those, then I could call the deal good without having to worry about any gold. You should know that this work wasn't cheap, we had to shut down orders for the past few weeks to get it done."
Jacob nodded his head before smirking again. "I could get you another box like this if you can find a D-rank water core or better."
That caused the smith to draw in a deep breath. The D-rank water core was not impossible to acquire, but the cost of acquiring one was not to be measured in gold. He would probably have to head to the adventurers district and promise a favor to one of those brats.
Nevertheless, he looked at the crate that just swallowed a brass driveshaft. He knew that having just one crate would save him more money than the favor was worth within the year by importing cheap metals from Spring City himself.
"You've got business in the city again today, I suppose?" The blacksmith asked.
"Yes," Jacob replied, "I might take a bit longer than last time, if that's ok?"
The blacksmith nodded with a serious expression. "That will be perfect, actually."
After shaking hands, Jacob headed off to the shop that Gerald had been studying in during his trips to Thornhold, while the smith first took off toward the adventurers district after instructing his apprentices how to load the crates.