“The Siege of Kitterly”

One – In Which War Brews in Brewbury

It’s very difficult to write a sequel that’s as-good or better than the original. I’m not completely sure I can do it, but I’ll give it a whack. I should begin with the three cities in the story, if the reader happens not to’ve read “The Feuding of Kitterly.” Northmost was Brewbury, then (going south) came Kitterly, and last: Quincy.

Should I follow with the new protagonist? Nay, I think I’ll start with the war developing in Brewbury. Ugh, what politicky messes, wars. For a few months now, Brewbury has become a bit on-edge about the town to the south of it (Kitterly) becoming more of an industrial power than they were.

In fact, Brewbury was (more or less) emptying into booming Kitterly. As soon as people heard about prospects in Kitterly, there was an emigrating craze. A whopping one-sixth of the population all hopped on ferries down the river and rode down into Kitterly. Needless to say, Brewbury’s population was a bit deflated. On top of all that, the economy was flopping, because everything they used to export was now being produced in Kitterly. And what did Kitterly do? Sell it cheaper. Every businessman and salesman in Brewbury either ripped out their hair in frustration or moved to Kitterly.

So Brewbury grew angry. And they weren’t the only ones.

The town south of Kitterly (very south of Brewbury), called Quincy, was in the same boat. They were the mining hub of the country until somebody in northeast Kitterly found silver in his cornfield, and some gardener in southwestern Kitterly dug up gold on Arbor Day. So now Brewbury businessmen were out-factoried and Quincy miners were out-mined. Needless to say, Kitterly’s neighbors weren’t too happy with it.

They had been until a few years ago. Up until a few years ago, Kitterly had problems of its own; it was split by a dreadful feud. But now, that feud was solved and all the citizens of Kitterly were whistling away at their united work (and outdoing every other town in the country). Rather than try and imitate Kitterly’s new systems and their generosity to each other, Brewbury and Quincy grew green with envy and red with all the red ink they were in (which means, to any of us who aren’t business studs, they weren’t making many profits).

So that was the situation. Now, if this was a conventional story, the two towns of Brewbury and Quincy might pull out a long document for Kitterly officials and propose a bunch of tariffs and whatnot. And when that didn’t work they might knock on Kitterly’s door with a few bayonets and then push the document through. But they didn’t…they weren’t that smart. Instead, they decided to skip diplomacy and go right to the bayonet step. And they didn’t even ally, the nuts! They started building their own little individual armies out of whoever they could find.

Brewbury used to be the biggest town before Kitterly boomed. In spite of its slight depletion in people to draft, they scraped together a decent militia and began training it. A mustached, portly man named Hiram Brackworth became the general of these troops.

Quincy, on the other hand, had always been a smaller town than either Brewbury or Kitterly. Its tiny downtown was mostly one blacksmith, one baker, one butcher, the post-office, and a man who served as cobbler and tailor. Most of the rest of population were miners, who lived in apartments squashed around the downtown, and then there were the mines. So, Quincy rallied its miners, but the army it raised was little; no more than a third of Brewbury’s. They asked for Brewbury’s alliance (because they knew there was no hope of conquering Kitterly without it).

Brewbury refused. They only granted citizens of Quincy neutrality and said they would cooperate with them in the action, but not formally recognize them or plan with them (in other words, Brewbury was glad to accept the help of Quincy, but not glad to give Quincy any help). Quincy almost retracted themselves from the war, but knew they would make themselves Brewbury’s enemy if they did.

Like I said, nasty politicky things, wars. Tricky to stay out of, tricky to get out of.

Now, Kitterly itself knew little of the plans for war. Things in Kitterly had never been better; what with its internal problems gone and the economy skyrocketing through the roof. Kitterly straddled the river that ran along all three cities, and the river divided it into two halves: northeastern and southwestern. They two sides worked together seamlessly to produce and export, but the real breadwinner for Kitterly was the ferrying business.

Since the river ran right through Kitterly, Kitterly ran the mail ferry (linking all three towns) and cargo ferries (to bus goods to and fro) and the passenger ferries (which took people between the three towns, for up until these bad relations started, the towns were very cohesive). The ferriers (for that’s what Kitterly ferrymen were called) had organized systems for shoving off and landing. But ferrying was the life for the adventurous and daring, because the Kitterly River had the fastest current in the country, and an undertow to boot. I could go on, but I won’t bore you.

For Pete’s sake…I’ve gotten so caught up in the war I’ve completely forgotten the poor protagonist. Conventionally, he’d be a fighter in the war or a spy or something. No; he was just a ferrier in Kitterly, the son of a ferrier, and the grandson of a ferrier. He was seventeen, I’d say, and had all the traits and quirks of any seventeen-year-old young man. His name was Jake Lawson.

‘When is this story going to pick up?’ You’re asking. Well, here’s my answer: now.