Two

Miller gradually surfaced into consciousness, fighting the soothing sounds of rain against canvas trying to lull him back to sleep. Gradually he started to wonder why he could hear rain on canvas, and not against a roof or shutters, and why his bed felt so hard.
Opening his eyes didn’t help; Everything was dark.
Experiments with moving his limbs revealed that he was wrapped in a blanket & covered with heavy canvas, and after finding an edge to stick his head out of, lying on the weatherbeaten wooden boardwalk outside the tavern, mostly sheltered from the rain by the buildings eves.
Dim memories of the previous night filtered back, along with the beginnings of a headache.
A lot of drinking, obviously.
A sudden rainstorm that turned the valley stream into a torrent.
Dann & a few others persuading him that walking back up the valley was a bad idea, and him deciding that he’d wait it out on the tavern porch.
Miller draped the canvas over a hook and concentrated on neatly folding the blanket without getting it wet, then re-draped the canvas over himself and ventured out into the rainy morning.
First stop was Dann’s family home, where his attempt to stealthily return the blanket was ruined by Dann’s grandfather, who was sitting on the porch watching the sunrise, watching Miller’s splashing approach with a broad grin.
“I owe Dann one now; I thought you’d wake up at some point & go home.” He reached out & accepted the blanket. “How’d you know it was one of mine?”
“Who else would weave the stone paths AND waves as a border?” Miller grinned, then pointed into the house. “Dann still asleep? I might need to borrow him later.”
“Nope.” A shake of the head. “He’s on the smokehouse again, so he sleept there; Easier than going back & forth in the rain to keep those bloody fires going.”
Miller grimaced.
“I hated that job when it was my turn. Boring, time consuming, AND unpleasant.”
“Don’t forget thankless.”
“Good point; Nobody cares how good a job you do, but everyone has something to say if you make a mistake.” Miller complained. “More smoke leaks out the walls than the chimneys, but I’ll bet anything that’s wrong is still on Dann?”
A nod.
“I’ll go see him before I head back up. Want me to take him anything?”
The older man rummaged around under his chair & came up with a cloth-wrapped bundle.
“Breakfast sandwich; Sorry, I don’t have one for you though.”
“Thanks for the thought.” Miller nodded. “I’ve got plenty up at the tower, and it’s not looking like I’ll have much boat-spotting to do; Not in this weather.” He leaned out from under cover and squinted accusingly at the rain, then pulled the canvas over himself, nodded a farewell, and started picking his way back towards the village centre.
—–
Encased in a nest of blankets, Dann peacefully dozed.
—–
Miller painstakingly inched the smokehouse door open & slipped inside, peering around in the gloom. Spotting a shape slumping in one corner, as far from the coals as it was possible to be, he crept closer, a sly grin on his face, then pulled up short when an object in the shape’s lap made a sleepy ‘prttt?’ noise and opened one yellow eye.
Leaning carefully over, watched suspiciously by the cat, he angled his rain-cloak & directed a stream of water down the back of Dann’s neck.
Absolutely nothing happened.
Miller reached out & lifted Dann’s hat, revealing a short stack of barrels wrapped in a blanket.
“Sneaky little bastard.” He muttered, petting the cat & replacing the hat. “Wonder why I never thought of that when I had this shit duty?”
Walking back to the door, watched by the cat, Miller slipped back outside, softly closing the door behind him, then stifling a scream as a cold hand grabbed his ankle.