“Finally done!”

  The small man flopped to his back upon the dirt, splaying out all of his limbs in one great stretch before finally relaxing them. He breathed out a long sigh of exhaustion while he enjoyed this overdue opportunity to rest his aching body. The craftsmen of Tuk had been working double-hard to complete the latest order of spears for the Castle, which was the largest such order yet, and they had only just loaded everything up upon the back of a wagon and sent it on its way.

  They had been working since the first pale rays of dawn had crested the horizon, and yet now only the thinnest golden sliver of the setting sun could be seen above the western horizon. Many of them had not even spared themselves a moment’s pause to snatch up the bread or dried meat they had brought for their midday meal, and those that did ate as they worked.

  “Aw, don’t lie down there on the dirt.” Laughed the other man, who had remained standing despite his own exertions that day. “Find yourself a cot or something!”

  “Truthfully I’ve laid in worse.” The smaller man replied with a wry smile.

  His companion leaned his weight against the wall beside him. “If you say so.”

  There was a stretch of silence between the two as they let stress of the day’s work roll off of their backs. It went on long enough that the taller man almost grew worried that his companion had truly fallen asleep where he lay in the little alleyway between the shop and the warehouse. He cleared his dry throat briefly before he spoke again.

  “Well... I’m going to head over to the tavern. Apparently, they’ve gotten their hands on some good imported stuff from the Capital, and you know how fast those kegs go.”

  The smaller man suddenly threw himself up to a seated position, the weary expression he had worn just second before completely wiped away by the boyishly excited look that replaced it. “Truly? How’d they manage to get their hands on it?”

  The second man shrugged his shoulders. “Dunno. That new trader, the one who came in a few weeks ago? Apparently he’s got some... connections.”

  “...Huh. Ever since the Castle started makin’ these big orders an’ the money started flowin’ in, they’s really been getting ahold of foreign stuff like this more often.” Remarked the smaller man as he finally rose to his feet and dusted off the seat of his pants and the back of his shirt.

  The taller man’s face split into an uncharacteristically wide grin then, and threw one meaty arm around the smaller man’s shoulders, pulling him closer in an affectionate half-embrace. “It all started when you and the rest of your Otkornian lads arrived all those months ago. Ever since then the world’s turned completely upside-down!”

  “Ach! Get off me!” Cursed the smaller man as the two began to saunter away towards the tavern, which had already begun gathering a lively crowd.

  “No way, you lot are Tuk’s precious good luck charms!”

  A cold, emaciated hand slowly emerged from the depths of the inscrutable darkness. Its fingers stretched out as it grew nearer and nearer to the Count, who was so engrossed in his work that he did not even take notice of its sinister approach! Its long, unkempt, sharp nails hovered over his hunched form briefly… before moving past him to grasp the loop-shaped handle of the brass saucer which rested on the desk before him, atop which flickered the final, wavering dregs of what could barely be called a candle. Then another thin and eerie hand slid from the shadows, but this one held aloft its own gleaming brass saucer upon which rode a tall and pristine bone-white candle. With unsettling and silent grace the first hand ferried away the corpse of the old candle at the very moment when its flame died out, while at the same time the second hand lit and set down its replacement before the distracted Count. The light he read by was not interrupted for even a single second during this exchange.

  “Ah, thank you.” Niklas said, only now taking notice of the being beside him whose presence was so otherworldly, and yet which he had become entirely accustomed to.

  The surface of the desk before him was strewn a series of scrolled parchments, some of which were unrolled, with their ends hanging over the edge so long were they, while the others had yet to be unsealed and had been stacked at one side. Niklas wore a pair of half-moon spectacles perched upon the bridge of his nose and was draped in a robe of rather luxurious quality that he had brought with him from his previous home. After several minutes of furious scrawling with his quill, he finally sat back in his seat and exhaled a long, slow breath out through his nose, his expression one of equal parts exhaustion and satisfaction.

  “...well, it’s not exactly what I had in mind when I first came up with this idea,” he murmured to himself. “Truly, I did not think these plans would take as well as they have. I really must thank Finona and Lady Merida the next time I see them!”

  A sudden knock came upon the far-off library door before it cracked open, letting a thin, yet blindingly bright, beam of light cut through the darkness like a blade.

  “Dinner is ready, m’Lord.” Came the voice of Hemsley through that small opening.

  Niklas raised his arms achingly high and tucked his chin low in a most satisfying stretch as he responded. “You have excellent timing. I was just finishing up!”

  “Very good, sir.” Hemsley replied, and shortly thereafter the door clicked shut once again.

  Niklas turned his eyes down to scan over the rest of the table, pausing where several as-of-yet-untouched scrolls still lay in a small, enticing pile. “I shall be back for you later!” He reassured them with an excited grin, before blowing out the candle and making his exit.

  As one of the doors to the dining hall was pushed open before him, Niklas strode inside towards his customary seat at the end of one of the long tables which lay within, atop which had been set a most enjoyable spread of food. Long gone was the bland, watery porridge and thin, recycled tea leaves.

  Even after they had used up the last of the ‘gifts’ acquired from the former Mayor Borney, with the dowry’s arrival and their resultant newfound wealth, Niklas had been sure to reach out to some old University friends in the Capital who had taken up their fathers’ trades after graduation. While they were most surprised to receive letters postmarked from a backwater county at the far edge of the Kingdom, coin was coin, and for a modest delivery fee they were more than happy to send a few shipments of goods out to this ass-end of nowhere.

  Now, it was time for Niklas to enjoy some of the fruits of his labors. Having taken his seat and properly tucked a handkerchief into his collar, he had been just about to lift a steaming spoonful of hearty dumpling soup into his mouth when the sounds of a peculiar, unexpected scurrying of footsteps met his ear. Was someone visiting the Castle...?

  Thomas and Missy had long-since departed upon another one of their aimless journeys, while Nayantara had been sent to the West to report on recent events within the Old Fort by the Countess, which left only one other person Niklas knew of who might currently be running at a full sprint down the hall leading towards where he himself sat. Just as he finished that thought, both of the sturdy wooden doors to the room burst violently open–a feat of strength that should have been impossible for an elderly man of Belfort’s stature–as the old Butler nonetheless staggered inside, panting and perspiring from his hurried journey.

  “W-wait!” He managed to stammer out between heaving breaths.

  Niklas and Hemsley both stared at him expectantly, frozen in shocked confusion as they were. Niklas still even held his soup spoon poised delicately before his open mouth.

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  “Th-the Countess!” Belfort continued, his voice full of panic. “The Countess wishes to join you for dinner!”

  Even after the old Butler shared his unusual news, neither Niklas nor Hemsley moved a single muscle in reaction, besides for the widening of their eyes. As if making to escape the awkward tension, one of the dumplings slipped from Niklas’ spoon and plopped back down into the broth from whence it came, spattering everything nearby with a small rain of droplets.

  … Uldred was coming to dine?

  Niklas had fully expected for the Countess’ place to be set opposite from him, all of the way down at the far end of the long table. It would have been quite appropriate for a woman of her stature, both in the sense of her size and her rank. So you could imagine Niklas’ surprise when he learned that she had requested to be sat directly beside him, one spot over to his left near the corner of the table.

  …I suppose that will make it easier to set out and reach all of the food. Niklas thought to himself, peering over at her from the very corner of his eyes. Still, she does seem a bit… cramped.

  Niklas had to stifle a laugh as he glanced over at her, for the seat that Uldred had requested was far too small for her. This, along with the fact that she was using silverware and plates sized for an average person, rather than the larger, custom dishware that was practically a family heirloom, all worked together to force her to sit and eat her meal in a hunched-over, uncomfortable manner; the Noble Countess’ arms had to be kept tucked in tightly against her ribs while her knees seemed to knock together no matter how much she shifted to find a better position. As if sensing his thoughts just then, she shot an icy violet glare down towards him, causing him to hurriedly cast his eyes back down to the food before him.

  During the long period of silence that then stretched out between the two, interrupted only by the soft clinks of their silverware and dishes as they ate, Niklas continued to steal glances at his wife once she was safely engrossed in her food. His cheeks grew a bit hot every time he did so, for all he could see of her face was its uninjured side. From this angle she was flawlessly beautiful, like a porcelain masterpiece brought to life.

  “T-try the capon.” Niklas stammered, breaking the silence.

  Uldred eyed him suspiciously again, as if she thought he might be trying to trick her in some way, yet nonetheless she obligingly reached and retrieved a cut of the rotisserie, the bird’s well-crisped skin glistening with its coating of seasoned glaze. As she brought the tender morsel up to her lips she hesitated for a brief moment before biting into it. Her almond-shaped eyes opened up wide and seemed to take on a shine of wonderment while her entire complexion seemed to glow with joy as she reacted to the delectable dish!

  Cute! Was the intrusive thought that rang through Niklas’ mind like a bell as he watched her reaction.

  As if she had suddenly realized the kind of face she must have just showed him and become embarrassed about it, Uldred’s mood suddenly soured and she scowled over at him.

  “It was… passable, I suppose.” She replied, turning her nose up haughtily. Niklas shot her a thoroughly unimpressed expression then, one which she was too distracted to notice, as she was quite busy piling more and more of the delicious cooked bird onto her plate.

  Niklas coughed into his fist, clearing his throat while also recapturing her attention. “Actually, it is fortuitous that you are here, for there is something I must discuss with you.”

  Uldred did not speak a reply, but peered back towards him with the smallest of cocked eyebrows.

  Goodness, she is so much easier to read without that blasted mask on! He thought to himself with relief before he heeded her silent gesture to continue with his explanation.

  A few nights ago, while you were away, Salza Lengarsson paid me a visit.”

  Uldred furrowed her brow at him. “He is... dangerous. You should have waited for me.”

  Niklas raised both his hands then in a placating, apologetic pose as he continued. “You’re right, you’re right. But nonetheless, all we did was converse, and it even worked in my favor. He had requested that we sign a new contract... one worth over fifty times the amount they previously paid for your assistance.”

  Uldred, who had been in the midst of biting into another forkful of food, sucked in a sudden sharp breath and began to cough and choke most violently! She quickly slammed a great fist into her chest, hitting with enough force that Niklas was sure the blow would have crushed a normal person into a red paste. She repeated this process several times before she managed to dislodge the offending blockage and recover herself.

  “The total amount was… fifty horses, fifty-five cows, and five thousand silvers, if I recall correctly. Anyhow, I turned him down and told him off, so he left.”

  Uldred’s mouth fell agape with a horrified expression. “W-why ever would you decline?” She asked, incredulously.

  If she had still been wearing a mask Niklas might have thought that she was angry and exasperated with him, judging her reaction by the tone of her voice alone. However, as she was now, he could see the clear signs of worry and uncertainty that pinched her brow and lent a gray cast to her skin.

  “I believe that the true worth of the Road of Benedict is great enough to put their offered payment to shame.” He explained. “And our current circumstances are not so dire, especially after the arrival of my dowry, so we can afford to pass up the smaller short-term prize and play a longer game.”

  Uldred looked less anxious then, but was still clearly confused, so he pressed on. “This newfound wealth is like a shot of lifeblood for the territory. The craftsmen are crafting, and then the farmers are purchasing new tools from them, tools which allow them to do farmwork faster, more efficiently, and for a greater yield to boot. As this is happening, the merchants in all of the territories to the East will smell the presence of money and come flocking from far and wide to profit off it themselves, and they will bring with them many different trade goods for our newly-wealthy populace to enjoy.”

  Uldred nodded along as she listened to him speak, her expression having softened and warmed until now she wore a small look of amazement. She had never before spoken to someone with such expertise in these matters, nor at such a length.

  “Therefore,” Niklas began to conclude his explanation. “If we were to collect a toll for passage along the Road of Benedict, our profits would swiftly surpass whatever immediate benefits either Lengar or Otkorn could provide us with in exchange for securing their ownership of it. This is why Count Lengar was willing to offer us such a massive increase in reward compared to his previous contracts. It is also why he is now gathering a force to capture the Road for himself once again.”

  Uldred furrowed her brow once more at the news. “There shall be another battle for the Road, then?”

  “Aye, but it will be the final battle.” Niklas corrected her. “Though it is technically Petrician land, ownership for the Road has long been in dispute. Therefore, I have taken it upon myself to request the King’s judgment on the matter, and soon an agent will arrive in Petrice to once and for all determine the official owner of the Road of Benedict. After that, men-at-arms hailing from any other territories who attempt to lay claim to it will be considered unlawful Bandits.”

  Uldred was silent then for a long time, pursing her lips as if deep in contemplation.

  “I suppose this is what was discussed at the Moot... that you mean to send our people from the villages, using all the weapons and armor you commissioned to be made, in order to take the Road of Benedict?” The tone of her voice as she said this did not sound remotely pleased. Her mood was coldly angry at worst, and conflicted at best.

  Niklas swiftly put up two hands before himself as if to physically brush away her doubts. “I will only take volunteers, I swear it! I would not resort to such a horrid thing as conscription, especially not for such a selfish reason. And those that freely choose to go will receive a hefty reward for their bravery.”

  Uldred sighed out a long and weary breath. While she had, in the recent past, stood steadfastly against such an endeavor, his sound analysis had convinced her of its worth and potential benefits for the entire economy of Petrice. She slowly rose up to her feet.

  “Then it is my duty to accompany them. I will not allow a single person to fall.” She declared with a firm and resolute expression. “I will ensure all of them return home safely!”

  As she marched away towards the doorway, Niklas brought his head down to rest upon one hand, with its elbow braced against the table. Though he was well aware of the Countess’ legendary strength and prowess, he still could not shake a feeling of guilt that now that took residence within his guts as he sent her out to battle once more.

  “Say that you will return home safely, you fool!” He grumbled, and his ears flushed with a foolish heat of his own as he did so.