“How a lord presides over his house will determine the success of his ventures and the prosperity of his land. If he does not take the utmost interest and care in the running of his estate, then it will take a miracle to recover from the disarray that will follow.” —“To Run an Estate” by Lady Felecia Valkier

  Tower Castle, Cryptonia, Ground Plane

  Jasper awoke the next morning and felt truly re-energized for the first time in a long while. He sat up in bed for a solid five to ten minutes, his legs crisscrossing with his elbows braced on his knees. He was still sitting like that when Calian knocked and came in.

  “Good morning, ser,” he smiled brightly, and stoked the fire before adding a bit more fuel. “I suppose it went well. Mistress Harla has been in fine spirits this morning.”

  “Good,” Jasper smiled. “I’m glad she is pleased.”

  “She said you wanted to learn the Law and their language.” Calian smiled openly back at the young human. “A shrewd bit of maneuvering, that.”

  “I did not ‘maneuver’,” Jasper snorted, “I made a compromise that would not dishonor Harla nor put either of us in a particularly uncomfortable position.”

  “And she praised your understanding and respect of her,” agreed Calian, folding the clothes and putting them under his arm. He was wearing blue instead of black that morning, the new crest proudly displayed on his breast pocket. “Breakfast will be served in less than a bell, so when you are ready, please come down. And by the way, we have already made some progress sorting through the castle’s valuable tableware and platters.”

  “Good. I will be down shortly.” Jasper rose and stretched before the fire, wearing his night clothes. “We’ve got work to do.”

  Breakfast in the serving room beneath Jasper’s tower bedroom was bacon, grilled leeks, and fresh bread, which he was particularly pleased with. Titus, Calian, and Fern sat with him as he told them what he wanted to accomplish in the coming days.

  “As I understand it, our primary concern at the moment is reestablishing a channel of credit with the Banks,” said Jasper. “Setting up some kind of debt settlement plan. Without money we cannot accomplish much of anything. Is such a thing possible, Calian?”

  “It is, Lord,” the vampire nodded. “I will draft up a proposition to the Guild and inform them of your intent to settle the Tower’s debt.”

  “Good. That leads me to our other priorities, which would be security, the state of our defenses, and then lastly caring for the common folk. Titus, you mentioned wishing to take a tour of the grounds.” Jasper turned to the knight. “I believe it should be our next step. We must know exactly what we need in order to resolve the issues.”

  “Aye, Lord,” said Titus. “I would also have my troops parade for you here in the courtyard for your inspection.”

  “Of course,” Jasper nodded. “I want to see them, and to be seen as well. I don’t expect the guardians of the castle to fight for a man hiding behind them.” Titus grinned at this.

  “Tomorrow at eleven bells be acceptable, Lord? Just before midday meal?”

  “Perfect. That should give everyone plenty of time to prepare, yes? Calian, I’d like you to assemble a list of things that require our attention. Wells that have gone dry, bogged out roads, whatever. I’ve also seen you carrying a notebook, may I have one? I expect I’ll be writing quite a few notes myself.” The steward nodded.

  “Of course. And I will have one for you before the evening, ser.”

  “Good. Oh!” Jasper snapped his finger. “I’ve just remembered the gold and silver platters. What do we have, Calian?”

  “Ah, yes. Hmm.” He consulted his small book. “The sets of dining plates, bowls, utensils, and cups were simplest to count. Seventy-five complete sets in gold and one hundred and fifty sets in silver respectively. I counted these myself.” He flipped a page. “But, of the various platters and large bowls we possess, many of them are unique and not in a set, so forgive any inaccuracies in the approximation, Lord. Some two hundred and seventy to two hundred and eighty-five in gold, and three hundred and twenty to three hundred and fifty in silver.”

  “Sweet Sister Mary Francis,” Jasper gasped, leaning back in his chair in amazement. The others looked amused, though they did not understand his outburst. “I don't suppose you have a particularly accurate value of this—this horde?” He laughed. He was completely flabbergasted that someone could compile such wealth in one castle and still allow his debt to pile up as it had. Calian pursed his lips and shrugged.

  “I have some idea, Lord Jasper, but am not certain enough to put a number to it.”

  “I understand. Good work, Calian. Let’s do our best to find out what the value is. I know how tempting it can be for a loan collector to line their pockets. Worse than that, some dishonest soul might take advantage of us not having an accurate count and claim we did not pay.”

  “Very good, Lord. I will get started right away.” Calian stood, bowed, and left. Fern finished her breakfast and inspected Jasper’s head once more.

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  “I can see some scarring and a small lump. I believe you are well enough for a tour, at least.” She smiled, patting him on the shoulder.

  “You truly are gifted, Fern,” Jasper laughed. “In my world, a wound like you described would take weeks, weeks to heal properly. Thank you.”

  “Not at all, Lord Jasper,” she nodded, pleased.

  “Oh, dang it! I meant to ask Calian what clothes would be appropriate for inspection, or the tour itself.”

  “We have uniforms, Lord,” said Titus. “We had no reason for you to dress in one yet, but if you are ready, ser, you can follow me to the quartermaster, and he will fit you. You’ll be wanting this back too, I imagine.” He reached over to a nearby table and picked up a sword. It was the weapon Jasper had brought with him from Earth.

  “Thank you, Titus.” His eyes lit up and he wiped his hands before taking the weapon gratefully. He eased the weapon from its sheath and the etched blade flashed in the firelight. A thought occurred to Jasper, and he checked the edge. “Good god, it's sharp as a razor!”

  “Should it not be?” Titus looked confused.

  “Well, it was a dull practice blade in my world,” Jasper laughed. “Another gift from the Land?” Titus shrugged.

  “I’m afraid your guess is as good as mine, ser. I have never heard of the like, even with the magic we have here. A transforming sword is quite a neat trick.”

  “Whatever the source is, I am glad to have it.” Jasper made several more swings, grinning openly. “I always wanted a real one.” He sheathed the sword and belted it over his tunic and trousers before turning back to Titus. “Time to meet the quartermaster.”

  “Would you like to see the inner courtyard on our way? We can go through the Court; it would be a shorter trip.”

  “Oh, let me see the front of the Keep. I want to see the grounds as well.”

  “Very well, ser. This way.” Titus led him to the Main Hall, then out the arched front doors of the Keep for the first time. Titus unlatched the iron fittings holding the thick slabs of wood secure. Jasper wagered that it would take some serious force to breach such a sturdy strongpoint. Outside, the steps descended in a semicircle onto the cobblestone courtyard. On top of the bigger stones was a layer of packed limestone to give the surface more traction. There was a gentle slant to it, allowing rain to drain into grates set in the ground. Directly across from the hall’s entrance was the inner gate, built into the walls surrounding the Keep. Beyond that, Jasper could just see the massive portcullis suspended above the open ten-inch-thick double doors of the outer gate. He grinned.

  “That, I cannot wait to see,” he said, pointing.

  “It will take longer to tour the main gate and the walls,” Titus said. “But we can if you would like.”

  “No, let’s focus on the Keep and inner courtyard for the moment. I want to fix the layout of the place in my mind.” They turned right, away from the gates. Ahead was a parade ground Jasper assumed would be used for inspection. Past the rectangular ground was a long stone building with a slate roof.

  Despite his comment, Jasper could not help but look up at the walls around him. The inner walls were at least twenty feet high and were constructed from a different stone than the Keep itself. It was darker, had a rougher texture, and the blocks were considerably larger. Jasper could see the battlements above and the crenelated parapets from which defenders could fire arrows down into the courtyard should the Keep wall be breached. At the corner of the Keep wall, a turret rose above the battlements overlooking both the inner and outer courtyards. There was a steel-reinforced wooden door set into the turret at ground level that would grant access to the short tower and the top of the Keep walls.

  “This is the Keep guardroom, Lord,” said Titus, bringing his attention back. They had arrived at the door of the building, and the knight pushed it open. “These are the veterans I mentioned to you.”

  “A good choice to have the most reliable in reserve near the heart,” Jasper nodded. “Let's see them.” Inside was a layout of some sixty bunks divided against both sides of the long building. Men and women sat on their bunks or stools cleaning weapons, armor, polishing boots, or mending uniforms. They leapt to their feet when they saw Jasper enter. He raised a placating hand. “At ease, my friends,” he smiled. They hesitated before some finally relaxed, but he could see that a few were still quite tense.

  “We weren’t expecting you, Lord,” said one near the door. He was dark, solid as an oak, and looked like he could bite a nail in two. His beard was neatly trimmed but his head was bald. He offered a hand calloused from much sword work and Jasper took it. “Delgan Kelathaian, Lord Jasper. I am Captain of the house guard—your guard—so I expect we will be seeing a great deal of one another.”

  “Honored to meet you, Captain.” He squeezed the onyx statue’s hand.

  “Honor is mine, ser. I was there at the gate to see you fight,” He nodded approvingly. “We are glad to have someone of decent skill and worth, truly.”

  “I’m afraid that you praise me too much,” Jasper chuckled. “But thank you, Delgan.” The big man went on to introduce the rest, and Jasper tried to remember all their names. With twenty or so guards in the building, it was difficult for him to match all the faces to their names.

  “We have been holding drill with our own ranks in the salle,” Delgan went on. “Most of us served in some capacity before joining the Tower’s guard, so we can keep ourselves well in shape. But if you don't mind me saying, ser, the rest of the militia would have trouble fighting their way out of a pig pen.”

  “We have a salle?” Jasper’s eyes widened in excitement. The thought of getting to exercise in a real indoor training hall kicked Jasper’s imagination into overdrive. “Do we have an armsmaster? An instructor of any kind?”

  “Old Benn has been here longer than most of us have been alive,” said one of the guards. Jasper thought her name was Aesil. “But, he could certainly use a hand or two.”

  “I understand. As soon as we begin to sort this damn debt business out, I’ll be focusing on getting us—all of us—well-trained and equipped,” said Jasper. “I am just on my way to the quartermaster now to be fitted myself. If you can think of anything, come find Calian or me. I know how important it is for soldiers to have proper gear and training.”

  “Yes, Lord,” the veterans nodded. Jasper smiled at them and bid them good day before exiting to follow Titus further to the rear of the Keep. Back inside, Delgan looked around at the small groups and raised a thick eyebrow.

  “Well? What do we think?”

  “Lerontis never did surprise visits unless he thought we did something wrong,” smirked Craige, one of the captain’s old friends. “Maybe he actually knows something about soldiers.”

  “He’s young,” said another, scratching his graying beard. “I know you said he fought decent in the duel, but that could be luck too. You and I have both seen too many good fighters go down because of a slip or rolled ankle.”

  “There’s more to a man than just fighting,” laughed Aesil, setting aside her half-finished boot. “He cared enough to ask about training, what we may need. That means more than just being good with a sword.”

  “Agreed,” Delgan nodded. “We will see. But I have high hopes, based on what I’ve seen and what Titus has told me."