Chapter 29: All Must Serve

Chapter 29: All Must Serve

Landar

The next few weeks went by in a flash.

Tomas and Elsbeth were constantly busy. Father with increasing patrols to protect the conscription personnel as they went through the city. He regularly came home brused and beaten, having fought off one riot or another.

Mother, with her volunteer work, stockpiling food, water, and basic medical supplies for the army as it prepared to march. Early on the conscription, people found out what she was doing and gave her and a few of the other women helping her exemption from conscription. Elsbeth already had it, but the women in our neighborhood largely didnt. Their efforts were vital, as the Arch-Duke hadnt had time to prepare provisions or stockpile supplies.

I spent my time split largely between foraging outside the city walls collecting firewood, food, and other materials our families would need for winter, and the temple libraries. I focused my studies on mental magic. Learning to augment the journal ability as deeply as I could. I had a vision for what I wanted, an ability to look at something and learn as much about it as possible. But I hadnt yet reached that stage yet.

Though I visited the forge as many times as I could, trying to learn to use the runes the dwarves have gifted me, I had little success. The runes took easily enough to the metal physically, but I couldnt figure out the trick to them. At least, not for a while.

The temple was so busy that I had practically free access to the smaller libraries, as well as the main library. Though I only went in there every once in a while, as it was a shared space with the Blue priesthood. Only once did I find Sigvald, surrounded by a few of the higher up priests in the main library, looking over some kind of spell and arguing over which one would be better for the nation as we went to war.

I listened carefully, and it appeared their disagreement largely revolved around weather augmentation or soil enrichment. A choice to either shorten winter, or enrich the soil now, so farmers could get in some form of harvest before they left. I wasnt able to hear the conclusion to their debate, as the librarian shuffled me out the moment I had the books I was looking for.

About the time I started figuring out the finer points on the Ability I was crafting, my time in the forge eventually bore fruit.

I experimented on my hatchet several times, trying to inscribe the runes that the dwarves had left for me. I had, lets be charitable and call it mixed results. Several times I had to grind down a small portion of metal to remove a failed attempt. On the last day of the third week, however, I was successful in copying the runes.

The process involved using mana and specially made tools that the dwarves had only given me hints to making in their writings. I ended up crafting two tools. The first was a light working hammer for precise strikes with the smiths help. The second was a chisel that was hardened and coated in a type of special black metal the smith called black-steel. Though according to him, it had no actual relation to steel.

It was expensive. Nearly an entire weeks wages from infusing the oil went into purchasing the material. Practically all of my credit with the smith was gone, as he helped me forge the tools. I even went into debt with him by a few dozen copper pieces to get his help to finish the chisel.

On day one, I had tried to use a mundane hammer and chisel to carve the runes. But the magic I had to imbue them with made the chisel melt, and the hammers head crack in half. The new tools were vital to the dwarven craft, it seemed.

Once I had the tools, though, it was nearly childs play. The chisel took my mana almost like a glove fit my hand. And the hammer hit with almost inhuman precision. I carefully carved the three runes into the head of my hatchet in roughly the same location as my dwarven ax. One on the handle, and two above the first on the blade's head itself.

I copied the runes on both sides of the ax, again mirroring the dwarven work. When I was finished, I could feel my hatchet hum with the same type of power as the other, but quicker and sharper. If the dwarven ax was a steady drumbeat, this was a heartbeat of someone running the Boston Marathon. Quick, staccato, light but insistent.

When I tested the weapons on some trees during one of my scavenging excursions, they practically sang as I swung them through the air. I knew nothing about using two weapons at the same time, so I ended up thinking of the dwarven ax as being for self defense, and the hatchet as still being a tool.

Though I told myself that if I ever had the opportunity to learn how to use two weapons at once, Id take it. But that just wasnt something Uncle Sam ever bothered to teach grunts in the army.

That training was more, stab, step back, then shoot until the enemy stopped moving. I had also learned a fair bit of grappling and knife play. But, most of what I knew from my time in the army and as a contractor wasnt super applicable to using two axes at the same time.

Still, I practiced with both the hatchet and the hand ax, making sure I was familiar with both weapons if I ever had to defend myself in the crazy beehive of activity that the city had become.

Tabitha helped Elsbeth as much as she could. Gathering materials, prepping basic medical supplies, and foodstuffs for the army as it finished assembling. But she spent more than half her time with Roland, learning magic, and trying to hurry the marriage along.

The Grey Priesthood, under Sigvold, had already given their blessing. Rolands uncle had, as well as our parents. The only hold out as far as I could tell was Roland himself.

When she and I went to the temple together one sixth day, when Roland had a bit of free time, I overheard their conversation outside the library. After they had finished dropping me off there.

Im just worried that if I go, and. . . and dont return, youll be looked at as a widow. Youll have no protection, and itll be harder for you to find a match.

His concerns made sense from a purely long-term standpoint.

And you seem to misunderstand the level of danger Im in now. Tabitha was exasperated, but kept her voice down. Your order is going away. Most of you, anyway. Your uncle isnt as powerful in wartime as he was in peacetime. But if Im both married to a gray priest, and. . . and I do . . . it. Then Im sure Ill be safe.

Roland sighed deeply. You dont have to do it, you know. No matter how weak one of the priesthoods gets, none of the others would violate a marriage like that. They just wouldnt.Ñøv€l-B1n was the first platform to present this chapter.

I understand you think that. But. . . But I dont trust them. Particularly the blue. Theyre desperate right now. You heard what Sigvald said the other day.

I had not heard what Sigvald had said, but perhaps it was time I started paying attention to temple politics as much as I had started to pay attention to the bigger picture.

Yes, theyre desperate. Conscription in the other parts of the kingdom has practically gutted their order. But its not like that for them here. Roland was clearly trying to dissuade her from doing something.

That will make those here more desperate not to be relegated to a regional power

The argument continued for a while longer. I honestly did not know my sister had such a solid grasp of the motivations of institutions in the area. It impressed me. But it also made me understand why things hadnt moved as quickly as my family had hoped.

Roland had legitimate concerns, but my sister was right. It was better in this situation to move quickly rather than to wait until after the war was over.

I contemplated what to do on our walk home that afternoon. We ended up needing to take the eastern road, and then the wall-road that mirrored the wall until we came to our neighborhood. The dwarven caravan was preparing to set out and had blocked our usual path.

I tried to spot any of the dwarves I had met in the crowd, but there were far more of them in the city than I had originally thought. And it was clear with the war looming, they wanted to get out of town as soon as possible.

Elves aint no friend of ours. But we dont go pocking their eyes out. I heard one of the dwarven guards say to a human companion of his as we passed by. You lot pick too many fights.

When we came near the eastern gate, we found it was choked with new traffic.

Should have taken the western road, I said, and Tabitha agreed. It gave me the opportunity, however, to see what was going on in regard to the war preparations. Just outside the gate, a massive tent city nearly the size of the city itself had been erected as warriors from all across the duchy poured in.

The peasant conscripts trained and drilled in the streets, between the tents, and in open fields. There were thousands of them, and they would clearly make up the bulk of the forces being sent to the front. They had barely any gear, usually just a club and a spear. If they had armor, it was usually home made leather, or thick gambeson cloth.

This group was largely made up of the drudges, slaves, and the lowest of the peasant sub-classes. They also didnt sleep in the tents. Most carried bed rolls and backpacks stuffed with the supplies theyd need on the march.

I put a hand to my forehead and found I was bleeding slightly from a gash that was surprisingly long above my eye. My instincts were to kill the blond-haired asshole, and my hand twitched down towards my hatchet. But before I could do something incredibly stupid and get myself killed, my sister hauled me to my feet.

Thank you for your grace, my lords. Hes a child, and my parents will hear of this, incident. The word incident was said with acid, and it was clear if she had the power she would have ripped the blond-haired jerk in half.

My apologize for my son. The old man sighed. Let me see that cut, child. My sister backed up slightly, and the Lord-Collector enveloped my skull in his hand. After a moment a light filled my vision and the pain disappeared.

He is over eager in my protection. He glared back at the blond-haired idiot who had already pulled back up his hood. So much so that he would think I cant defend myself against a sickly, half sized child.

The half sized comment was unnecessary; I thought, but I bit my tongue. There was no reason to antagonize the man further.

Still boy. Analyzing someone without their permission is rude. Though given how rare such abilities are, I can not fault you for your ignorance surrounding the etiquette of the use of such abilities.

And yet you did it to me and my sister without a second thought. My voice didnt waiver, but I could feel Tabitha flinch at my words.

He locked eyes with me for a moment before grinning and laughing. I suppose youre right, boy! Ha ha, even peasants have the right to dignity. I apologize for offending yours. He held out a hand to us and my sister kissed the ring on his finger.

That was probably what he expected me to do, but instead I gripped his hand in a handshake with both of mine. It was my old diplomat handshake I used on people who I needed to know I was being genuine.

Its alright. Everyone makes mistakes.

He met my eyes again, shocked again by my boldness. He released my hand and smiled. Boy, if you dont get yourself killed, youll be one hell of an adventurer some day. Your poor father. Might just give him a refund on that training. Its almost a public service to make sure he can help raise you properly. As for you, young lady. Your father told me of your predicament. But its clear he doesnt know how far along you have come in your studies of Faith magic. You should consider becoming a cleric. Gods know they could use someone with a bit of diplomacy in their ranks.

Before either of us could respond, the Lieutenant returned, followed by a tall, well-dressed man with a sword at his hip and a cape that fell down towards his knees.

Lord-Captain Harstad. The old man bowed slightly, and the captain returned the gesture.

Is something the matter, Lord-Collector?

Yes. I apologize for doing this in public, but there simply is no time for formalities and niceties. These issues need resolved immediately. There is a discrepancy in your latest rents from your out of city estates.

Oh? Do you have the paperwork? You can show me the mistake? Ill be happy to correct it if its not a misunderstanding.

Of course. The old man gestured, and one of the hooded figures brought out an enormous book and several scrolls. These are what you reported on your latest tax report.

Yes, I see.

And here is what your accountant reported to the throne for that same period.

Ah. I see the discrepancy. Captain Harstad looked troubled. Did the emergency amendment not get filed?

What amendment? The old man asked, and Harstad sighed deeply, looked around him and decided that whatever he was going to say he could say here.

Id prefer to say this in private, my Lord-Collector, as I do not wish to cause a panic among the small folk. But I understand the urgency. Three hovels, some hundred and fifty souls, died some four months ago. When my castellan went out to collect their offerings and see to their health and complaints, all he found were the bones of the dead. Picked clean where they had laid. In their beds, on the floor of the common house, and in rows as if they had been treating the ill.

So youre claiming plague whipped out, what, four entire settlements in your domain?

Yes. We believe they died at different times, however. The current theory weve been working under is that the first and largest fell ill in the heart of winter. The last one seems to have been more recent. Having died at the very beginning of spring. My castellan was lucky he did not stumble upon them in the throes of the illness, else it might have spread.

I see. And your accountant was supposed to file an amendment with this information?

Yes, Lord-Collector.

The old man picked up the paperwork and handed it back to one of the other cloaked people. Be sure to have them bring me the amendment by the end of the day tomorrow so we can review it.

My Cousin Oswald handles these things for me. But hes in the guard and taking on extra duty at the moment. Ill contact another accountant.

Wait. Oswald at the southern gate? I asked, and I felt my sisters fingernails dig into my shoulder like daggers. I winced, but I kept my eyes on the two nobles.

The Lord-Collector smiled and shook his head. But the Lord-Captain smiled at the mention of his cousin. Yes. Do you know him, peasant?

Yes, my lord. He works with my father, and taught me my letters and numbers. Hes a good man of high character and quality. If he didnt get the amendment in, in time, there must be a good reason.

Well, that is an endorsement if I ever heard one before. The old man said, still fighting back a smirk. He turned back to the Lord-Captain. By the end of tomorrow, please. Else well have to conduct a full audit of your estates in person.

Harstad bowed, and the Tax Collectors left, seemingly disappearing among the crowd of people heading away from the east gate. Harstad took me in as I stood there. Youre a brave one, even for the son of a guardsman. But know this child, the tree that does not bend in the wind, will snap. He smiled, before himself disappearing back towards the gatehouse.

A pain erupted in my ear. Ow!

Do you know how close we came to having both of us beheaded?! my sister hissed into the very ear she was pinching. Stop being so disrespectful to nobles, or youll get yourself, or worse, anyone standing near you killed.

Ow, ow, ow! Alright, alright, Ill do better! She released my ear and grabbed my arm before pushing her way through the workers. She had had enough, and the workers made way despite the slight disruption in their rhythm off-loading the cart.

Come on. I have news for the family.

Good news or bad?

She thought about her response as she dragged me through the street towards home. Both, I think.