The departure of Alaric Veynor and Selina Torval came with the clatter of wheels and the low hum of warning bells on the morning of the 15th day of Verdantus. Their wagons rattled along the eastern road, guards in polished mail marching stiffly beside them, escorting the precious hybrid seeds we had traded.
Alaric's weathered hand gripped my forearm before he mounted his horse."Lord Allen, our partnership grows like your fields. Expect Cedric Havelin's group soon. They'll want to test your bows and blades, and they travel with skilled smiths and apprentices.".
By midday, wagons began to appear on the southern road. Families arrived with carts loaded with meager belongings—grain, iron tools, rough furniture. Children clung to their mothers, wide-eyed at the walls of stone. Nearly fifty souls had come by dusk, their faces a mixture of exhaustion, fear, and hope.
From the mansion balcony, I watched them settle near the square. "Why so early?" I muttered, more to myself than anyone.
Oswin appeared, cloak damp from the light rain. His expression was somber."They harvested sooner than expected, my lord. Their fields are small; most food comes from iron mining, not soil. Iron fills purses, but not bellies. And they've heard whispers of bandits near the valleys. Fear drives them as much as hope."
I narrowed my eyes. Bandits. Always waiting, always hungry for easy prey."They come here thinking Orshek is a sanctuary," I said.
"House them. And make it clear—Orshek is no wandering camp. Rules and order bind us here."
Oswin inclined his head. "It will be done."
That night, the council chamber smelled of candle smoke and ink. Maps were spread across the long oak table, scrolls rolled at their edges. I gave Oswin a task heavier than any wag"2968" data-end="2971">"Begin a citizen's register. Every name, family, trade, strength, and debt. Write it all. Nothing hidden. Nothing forgotten."
Oswin's brows lifted. "A census of sorts?"
"Yes," I said, my voice firm, the shadow of authority in every word. "If Orshek is to grow, we must know who stands beneath our banner. Their numbers decide rations, their trades guide work, their loyalty must be recorded. A man may lie… but parchment never does."
He bowed gravely. "It will take time, but it will be done."
The following days were filled with the golden hum of harvest. By the 16th day, sickles struck the thick stalks, and laughter rose from children darting barefoot among the rows. By the 26th day, barns overflowed . Townsfolk who had once hovered on the edge of hunger now celebrated the bounty.
One farmer clutched my sleeve, face shining with sweat and excitement."My lord! Never have I seen stalks grow so thick! Two, sometimes three heads from a single stem! The soil… the soil is blessed!"
"Blessed, yes," I replied, eyes scanning the distant tree line. "But the hands that tend it matter more than soil."
Villagers whispered among themselves, some thinking of settling permanently if the winter proved mild. Hope, fragile yet insistent, had taken root.
But shadows lingered even in daylight. Bandits always came when barns were full. Hunger made them bold, and desperation sharper than any blade.
We began preparations quietly, but thoroughly.
The militia drilled daily, wooden shields clashing, short swords flashing in the sunlight.
Compound bows and repeater crossbows were issued, archers stretching sinew and string alike.
The decoy barn, layered with stones beneath straw, awaited those greedy enough to attack without caution.
Scouts patrolled the forests, whispering through the trees to one another.
Horns and whistles were distributed to townsfolk, ensuring every cry for help could be heard.
That evening, Natalia found me in the mansion. I leaned her against my doorframe, lips curved in a playful, dangerous smile.
"You look tired, my lord," she said, voice low, teasing. "Shall I ease your burdens?"
I smirked. "You ease them only to replace them with others."
She crossed the room, pressing close, fingers trailing along my chest. "And yet you cannot resist me."
Moments later, we were entwined against the wall, her breath ragged as her green eyes danced with mockery and desire. She taunted me as always, pushing boundaries with words and hands, whispering provocations even as her body arched against mine..
Afterward, she draped herself across me, tracing idle patterns on my chest."You play the strong lord well," she murmured. "But I see fear in your eyes. You think the bandits will come."
I exhaled slowly. "They will. Orshek must be ready."
Natalia smirked, a wicked glint in her eye. "Be glad you have me. I will stop any threat that tries to harm you."
I kissed her forehead. "Rest. Tomorrow brings weight anew."
Next morning ,I watched noting Elias' precision, the way he moved between ranks like a born commander. He instructed with authority, rotating lines of repeater crossbowmen, kneeling and firing in deadly rhythm.
"They'll bleed any bandit force that dares attack," I murmured.
Oswin nodded. "Elias has a mind for war. Young, yes—but sharp."
On the 26th day, the harvest ended. Cheers rang through the streets, but vigilance shadowed every smile. The distant forest line seemed darker somehow, heavier.
Then dust rose along the northern road. Wagons bearing the sigil of crossed spears and hammers approached.
At the head rode a woman in a dark riding coat, auburn hair tied back, posture sharp and commanding. She dismounted with practiced grace, bowing slightly.
"Lord leonard," she said, voice calm but firm. "I am Lyra Quinn, representative of the Havelin Weapon Consortium. I've come to inspect the stock of arms promised. My master, Cedric Havelin, sends his regards."
Her guards dismounted, scanning the town with practiced eyes, measuring its walls, gates, and militia.
I extended my hand. "Welcome to Orshek, Lady Quinn. Quarters are ready in the guesthouse. Weapons will be ready for inspection in two days."
She inclined her head. Her gaze lingered on the town and on me, measuring my calm."So disciplined a town… for one so young. You must rule with a firm hand."
"Firm, but not cruel," I said evenly. "Order is the backbone of survival."
Lyra's smirk was subtle, predatory. "Then perhaps we'll profit mutually. I look forward to seeing your stock. And your leadership."
The harvest was done. The barns full.The town ready…