WANDERING PAST THE second barn, I was starting to grow a little tired of my private investigating hobby. The first barn had been big and wooden and empty, with a loft, reached by way of a ladder, just as empty. The few prefabricated shacks I’d looked into had been just as exciting. Some had had small windows high up in the walls, while the others had been merely four grey slabs and a door. All the doors had been locked. And there didn’t seem to be any screaming damsels willing to give their all to the first dashing knight who showed up to free them from a life of degradation and servitude.
This barn was as barren as the other one had been. Until I heard a giggle coming from the far side. In a corner of the enclosure was a pile of blankets, with about a metre separating it from the wooden
