But what still hadn't been explained to us was the giant clock in the center of the town.  I refrained from interrupting Mr. Lotcin, who was not yet done with his story.  

"The Mayors' stopped trying to take advantage of us that much.  Whole periods of peace would be ours.  But every once in awhile they still try it.  And we enjoy our nice Sabbatical, as we call it." 

Redwar tapped his fingers.  "All well and good, Mr. Lotcin.  But haven't the Tales' tried other... ways of getting you to cooperate?"

Mr. Lotcin shrugged.  "A couple.  They've tried hiring some men to force us, but they never had enough.  And generally speaking they don't know how to defend themselves against a pickaxe either."  He chuckled at that.  

Redwar kept tapping his fingers.  "They've never tried taking over the wells?"

Mr. Lotcin's head shook.  "No.  We've had ones a lot meaner than this'n and none of 'em have tried it."  

Redwar was still not convinced, and it showed clearly on his face.  Frankly, I wasn't either.  

"Sir, I know it must seem odd to you, but please, we're a town that can handle our own matters."  Mr. Lotcin politely put aside his fears.  

Redwar nodded once.  "I suppose you'd be right about that, Mr. Lotcin.  It is, after all, your town."  

"That it is.  Time's Tale ain't much, but it is ours, just like our father's intended for it to be."  

Because I knew Redwar,  I could see he wasn't going to let the matter of the wells go that easily.  But on the other hand, he wouldn't press the issue with Mr. Lotcin.  

"Would you tell us why you named the town Time's Tale?"  He asked instead.  

"Sure.  Ya see, it's part of the system the Ravagerian suggested.  The Mayors are called the Tales, 'cause they're always the ones 'causing the trouble and thus making 'tales' of time.  As you know, this here tavern is the only one in town and is owned by the Times."  

"This here tavern is the place where the people meet to figure out our problems, whether it's how much to pay for grain this year or disciplining a Tale."  He grinned.  "The tavern is a place where we meet and where we plan.  No Tale is welcome in here, and there ain't been one in here in about 150 years.  Unless you count the spies they've sent."  

I smiled at this.  

"And the clock?  Does that have anything to do with all of this?"  Redwar finally asked the question.  

"It does, in a way.  It's a symbol, a reminder, to us and to our children.  A reminder to the Tales to not try to take more than what is their due, and to rule the people fairly.  And a reminder to us to not let the Tales take over.  Plus, it's practical.  You didn't get ta hear it today, because some repair work was bein' done to one of the bells, but the bells will toll at the start of each mining shift.  You can hear it clear in the mines, and so that's how we know when it's time to come up or go down."  

"Bells?"  Valeria and I asked the same question.  I'd never heard of bells in a clock. 

He grinned.  "You'll get to hear it tomorrow."  

He looked out the tavern window and swallowed the last of his beer.  "It's gettin' late, so I'll be headed home now."  

He and Redwar stood. 

 "Thank you for your time, Mr. Lotcin, you cleared a lot of things up for us."  Redwar shook his hand.

"My pleasure, Mr. Volan, my pleasure."  Mr. Lotcin nodded to each of us before he lumbered out of the tavern.  

Redwar waited a couple of moments until he was out of sight before he turned to us.  "Daxton, Valeria, follow him and make sure he gets home alright."  

"You suspect trouble, Redwar?"  Valeria stood and snagged her bow.  

"Maybe, maybe not, but I'd hate for Mr. Lotcin to end up hurt.  No matter what he says, I sense something is different this time."  

"You don't have to worry about Mr. Lotcin,"  called out Mr. Time.  "He can take care of himself."  

"Just the same, it's good experience for these two,"  replied Redwar evenly.  "I assure you, we mean no harm toward him."  

Mr. Time eyed him, but kept swabbing out glasses.  

"Ravine and Derrek are coming with me, we're going to go look at the wells Mr. Lotcin mentioned."  He nodded towards Valeria and Daxton, and they were out the door.  

Mr. Time still looked at us with disapproval, but held his tongue as we left.  

The sun was nearly set as we walked through the town.  It was quiet, with the normal night sounds going on.  

But there was still an air of fear that permeated the town.  Despite Mr. Lotcin's ease with which he told of the miners' troubles, it was evident that the people of the town were feeling the pressure of the Tales.  

I tapped my sword as we strode down the streets.  I saw more than a few eyes peek out from behind curtains before being slammed shut again out of the corners of my eyes.  I chose not to look back at them in return, for I knew that would make them only more afraid of us, at least until Mr. Lotcin was able to ease their minds.  

The well was located just where Mr. Lotcin had said it was.  The area around it was wide open, with a trampled path through the grace indicating the preferred route of the women and children to it. 

"Can you see any way this well could be set as an ambush trap?  Or used to an enemies' advantage?  Is it easily taken, or easily defended?"  Redwar rattled out questions without pausing.

I walked all the way around the well.  Except for the two buckets and ropes which were used to pull the water up, there was nothing else.  It was just a simple well. 

I looked up and around.  The treeline was a little more than 300 yards away.  That could be a good place to hide in ambush, but it was far enough away, and the town close enough to the well, that I couldn't see it being useful unless one had a bow.  

The town was the next closest thing, only about 100 yards or so away was the first row of gray houses.  Obviously, it would be hard to sneak around without any of the families that were in them noticing, even for Redwar that would be tricky.  It was less ideal for an ambush than the treeline.  

Of course, one wouldn't have a problem marching in with some men and surrounding it. But keeping it would prove harder, because you could easily be surrounded with no escape except down that well. 

I relayed all that I had observed to Redwar.  Derrek also threw in that one might be able to hide in the grass to attack, but that it would be tricky because the grass was only just above the ankle in height.  You'd have to be very skilled. 

Redwar nodded.  "Well done, you've spotted just about everything.  But you forgot one thing."  

I glanced around, trying to spot whatever it was we'd missed.  "What, Redwar?  I don't see anything..."  

He gestured toward the well itself.  "That."  

I wrinkled my brow.  "What about it?  It's just a simple well."  

Redwar walked over and tugged at the axle, which the rope was attached to so the buckets could be cranked up.  "How can it be sabotaged?  What are its weaknesses?  Could it be disabled, and if so, temporarily or permanently?"  

I walked the edge of it, which came up to just above my hips, and peered down into the dark hole.  "Well, I think you could use an axe and chop out the cranking system.  Or cut the ropes.  But that's about the only way I can see..."  

"You could put a heavy stone over the top of it," volunteered Derrek.  "One that would be hard to move.  But of course, if you can put it on, you could probably get it out.  Unless it got wedged..."  

Redwar lifted a finger.  "All of that are definitely options.  But those all work at disabling the well.    There is one way you can turn a well into a weapon."

I crossed my arms as I thought, but couldn't come up with anything.  

Redwar steepled his fingers and looked down into the murky blackness of the well.  Hidden from the moonlight, I couldn't see the expression on his face.  But I could see enough to notice the line along the side of his jaw that always came up when he clenched it.  

"How, Redwar?"  Derrek pressed, and I shot him a look of caution.  I had a distinct feeling this had something to do with Redwar's past.  

Redwar pushed off from the well and turned away.  "They wouldn't do it here, if Mayor Tale is all Mr. Lotcin says he is."

He looked back in the well, and his voice was so soft I could barely hear it.  "There is..." His fists clenched. "...Something so wrong when what was meant to bring life destroys it."