For the next week I was kept busier than I had ever thought possible.
Every morning began before sunrise with Sir Regimax Longcamp. The knight proved to be every bit as relentless as Brenn had warned me. If Brenn taught soldiers to survive, Sir Regimax taught warriors how to win. We drilled with spear until my hands blistered, then switched to the sword until my shoulders trembled from exhaustion. Every mistake earned a sharp correction. Every success was met with little more than a curt nod before he barked, "Again."
It was maddening.
It was wonderful.
The man seemed able to see my mistakes before I made them. More than once he'd stop me halfway through a strike.
"No."
"But I haven't—"
"You were about to over-commit."
He'd tap my leading foot with the butt of his practice spear.
"Again."
More often than not...
He was right.
The afternoons belonged to Brenn and my squad. There were no special lessons there. No knightly instruction. I was simply another soldier drilling shield walls, advancing with the spear line, learning to march in step, and, whenever Brenn thought we'd grown too comfortable, sparring until one or more of us ended up flat on our backs.
The evenings were something else entirely.
The Duke's castellan insisted I report to his pavilion after supper.
At first, I'd thought it an odd punishment.
Instead, I learned subjects I'd never imagined.
Stewardship.
Bookkeeping.
Accounting.
Commerce.
The castellan patiently explained how estates earned coin, how merchants made profit, how taxes were assessed, and why even kings required accurate ledgers.
"Coin," he said one evening, tapping a neat column of figures, "is much like water, Master Rowan."
I looked up from my parchment.
"If you don't know where it's flowing..."
"...someone else does."
Oddly enough...
I looked forward to those lessons nearly as much as Sir Regimax's.
The knight was teaching me how to survive a battlefield.
The castellan was teaching me how to survive everything that came after.
Because of those lessons, The sergeant had excused me from many of the morning patrols.
"Orders," was all he'd say whenever I protested.
So while my squad ranged through the surrounding countryside searching for enemy scouts and raiders, I remained behind, learning things I'd never expected to need.
I wasn't entirely comfortable with it.
A soldier ought to be with his mates.
Still...
Orders were orders.
One afternoon I returned from training with Sir Regimax, my tunic soaked through with sweat and my arms aching from another morning of being thoroughly outmatched.
Something felt...
Wrong.
The practice field was nearly empty.
The usual laughter was gone.
My squad sat together beneath the shade of a wagon, speaking in low voices.
No one laughed.
No one even looked up until I was almost upon them.
When they finally did...
They stopped talking as I approached.
Not gradually.
All at once.
Even Afn looked away.
Brenn was rubbing the bridge of his nose as though he'd aged ten years.
Several stared at me as though they'd seen a ghost.
A chill crept down my spine.
"What happened?"
No one answered immediately.
I looked toward Brenn.
The older soldier's expression was grim.
"Another patrol was hit."
My stomach tightened.
"Our patrol?"
He shook his head.
"No."
"A squad from Third Company."
I let out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding.
"They're all right?"
"They'll live."
He hesitated.
"Mostly."
My eyes narrowed.
"What does that mean?"
"There was one recruit."
He looked toward the ground before meeting my eyes again.
"Young fellow."
"Maybe a year or two older than you." Another said. "He took a blade across the arm."
Brenn grimaced. "Nearly lost the arm, e may still."
I winced.
"The surgeons think he may keep it but probably be pensioned off."
"Likely never swing a spear properly again nor do much field work."
Silence settled over the group.
I looked from one face to another.
They still hadn't stopped staring at me.
"What?"
One of the older levies shifted uneasily.
"You should've seen him."
"Seen who?" I asked.
"The lad." Ann said. "He looked..." The soldier frowned. "...a fair bit like you."
Another nodded.
"Thought the same thing."
"Same build."
"Same hair."
"Close in age. He was lucky had a few levels in famer i heard had most of his points in endurance."
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I blinked.
"So?"
No one answered.
Finally Brenn spoke quietly. "The corporal said something odd."
"What?"
"He said..." Brenn frowned, trying to remember the exact words. "...that the attack didn't make much sense."
I waited.
"They ignored the wagon. and they ignored the supplies." Brenn tooked down then back at me in the eyes. "They ignored the rest of the patrol. and they went straight for the boy."
A silence settled over the squad.
One of the men finally muttered what everyone else seemed unwilling to say.
"...Almost like they were looking for him."
No one laughed.
No one dismissed the idea. I realized I was the only one trying to convince myself it was ridiculous.
I felt an uncomfortable knot forming in my stomach.
"That's..." I forced a chuckle. "...that's ridiculous."
"It has to be."
Brenn nodded.
"It probably is."
But there was something in his voice.
Something uncertain.
He looked at me for a long moment before speaking again.
"Sir Rodger asked where you were training this morning."
I nodded.
"He knew."
"He did."
Brenn sighed.
"I've been told..." He said with a sigh. "...that from tomorrow onward..."
He paused.
"...you won't be training alone anymore."
The knot in my stomach tightened.
"Am I in trouble?"
Brenn give a tired smile.
"No, lad."
"I think someone else is."
"What do you mean?"
The old veteran looked away toward the Duke's pavilion.
"I don't think..."
He said quietly.
"...it's my place to tell you."
Then one of the other squadmates spoke. He didn't sound angry.
Just...
Frustrated.
"My question is..."
He poked at the fire with a stick.
"...why are you getting all this attention?"
"For Shadow's sake," another muttered. "You've been here, what? A week?"
I looked over.
It was Corbin.
"What do you mean?"
He met my eyes.
"You've been getting special treatment since you joined."
"Extra training."
"Morning."
"Noon."
"Night."
Martin nodded in agreement.
"We stand guard every third night."
"When was the last time you pulled a watch?"
A few others murmured.
I looked around the circle.
For the first time...
I realized they weren't accusing me.
They genuinely wanted to understand.
I rubbed the back of my neck.
"I get woken before the cocks crow."
I held up a hand, counting it off on my fingers.
"I'm on the practice field before breakfast."
"I train until noon."
"Then I drill with all of you."
"When you're eating supper..."
"I'm with the Duke's castellan learning ledgers and accounts."
"When that's done..."
"I clean my gear."
"I sharpen my spear."
"I mend whatever needs mending."
"And then I sleep."
I shrugged.
"I don't know all the whys of it either."
Silence.
Finally I looked at Corbin.
"Tell me something."
"If Sergeant Harlan came to you tomorrow and said, 'Corbin, report to the practice field before sunrise,' what would you do?"
He frowned.
"I'd report."
"If he told you to spend your evenings learning bookkeeping?"
"I'd do it."
"If the Duke himself ordered you somewhere?"
Corbin snorted.
"I'd be a fool not to go."
I nodded.
"So would I."
I looked around the fire.
"This past week..."
"I've been up before first light."
"I've gone to bed long after dark."
"I've not had a morning to myself."
"I've not had an evening to myself."
"I've barely had time to think."
I smiled tiredly.
"So..."
I spread my hands.
"Have any of you actually had more work than I have?"
That drew a few reluctant chuckles.
Martin rubbed his chin.
"When you put it that way..."
Corbin sighed.
"I suppose."
He looked down into the fire.
"I just..."
He hesitated.
"It feels like they're making something of you."
I opened my mouth to answer.
Only...
I couldn't.
Because I wasn't entirely sure he was wrong.
Brenn, who had remained silent through the exchange, finally spoke.
"They are."
Every head turned toward him.
The old veteran looked around the circle.
"But it isn't because the lad asked for it."
He fixed them all with a hard stare.
"It's because someone above my pay has decided that's where he needs to be."
He stood.
"And until one of you starts giving orders to dukes..."
"...I'd suggest we let the matter rest."
No one argued after that.
"Now i'm hungry where are the beans?"
***
The Dukes Castelan was not nobility. his name was Kelvin Hartson That afternoon found me once again seated across from the man. The ledgers had become familair
He smiled as I entered.
"Master Rowan."
I still wasn't accustomed to being called that.
"Sir."
He gestured to the chair.
"Today I thought we might discuss something more interesting than balancing accounts."
I sat.
"What would that be?"
He folded his hands together.
"Your family."
I immediately leaned forward.
"What about them?"
"You've told me what you wish to send money home."
He slid a fresh sheet of parchment between us.
"I would like you to tell me what you hope your family will become and what youw woudl want that money tro do for them."
I frowned.
"I don't understand."
"Then let us begin more simply."
He dipped his quill into the ink.
"Suppose you had enough coin to provide for them."
He smiled knowingly.
"As it happens..."
"...you do."
"What would you buy first?"
That answer came without thought.
"Boots."
His quill scratched across the page.
"For everyone?"
"Aye."
"My brothers are forever wearing holes through theirs, but they will need new boots next year and the oen after." I said.
"And my sister Tera keeps patching the same pair. She will need new ones for a number or years too."
He nodded approvingly.
"What next?"
"A pair of milk cows."
His quill stopped.
"No horse?"
I shook my head.
"No, sir. Tera's only eleven." I stated.
"My brothers are younger."
"They couldn't manage a team."
"So why cows?" Kevin asked.
"They're gentler." I paused in thought as i remebered my reasoning.
"Tera could milk them. with thats she could make butter and cheese."
I shrugged.
"Folks always need milk."
"They always need cheese." The Castelan said with a nod.
"If there was extra..." I paused.
"...she could sell it."
The castellan smiled.
"Very practical and after that?"
"I'd have the stable repaired."
He looked up.
"Not a new house?"
I frowned.
"The stable earns money. We live in the front part of it. but if it could hold more horses..."
"...it could earn more."
His smile widened.
"And if there wasn't enough land?"
"I'd buy some."
"If I couldn't..."
"I'd clear more."
"The woods behind the stable aren't doing anybody any good."
"And how would you plow it?" He asked me.
"We'd hire someone."
I shrugged.
"It'd cost money."
"But it'd be cheaper than buying horses they couldn't work."
The castellan laid his quill down.
"You've thought about this before."
I looked at my hands.
"I've had a few years."
Silence settled between us.
Finally he nodded.
"I believe you have."
He picked up his quill once more.
"So."
"Boots."
"Cows."
"Repairs."
"Additional pasture."
"Hired labor."
He totaled the figures.
"I estimate everything you've described would cost somewhere between one hundred and one hundred fifty gold crowns."
I blinked.
"That much?"
"It is."
He turned the parchment toward me.
"Master Rowan..."
"You possess over two thousand six hundred."
The room suddenly felt very quiet.
I tried to picture it. That entire chest i had carried would have probably bought the town was from.
I couldn't.
The most money I'd ever seen together had been five silver pieces sitting on Mr. Goffin's desk.
Five silver made a gold.
Two thousand six hundred...
The number simply refused to fit inside my head.
The castellan watched my expression carefully.
"I do not believe you truly understand what that means."
I slowly shook my head.
"No, sir."
"You've been thinking like a poor man."
I looked up.
"There is no shame in that."
"You have been one."
He smiled kindly.
"But now you must learn to think like a steward."
"A steward?"
"A man responsible not merely for today..."
"...but for the tomorrows."
He tapped the list.
"Everything you have described..."
"...you could purchase today."
My throat tightened.
"All of it?"
"Several times over."
My thoughts fled home.
Tera.
Would she even believe me?
She'd probably count the coins three times.
Then decide someone had made a mistake.
The castellan continued.
"You have not bought your family luxury."
"You have bought them choices."
"What do you mean?"
He leaned back.
"Without this money..."
"Your sister would almost certainly marry the first honest young man capable of feeding her and your brothers."
I looked down.
I knew he was right.
"There would be little room for romance."
"There rarely is among the poor."
He smiled gently.
"Now..."
"...she may choose because a man is good."
"Not because she fears winter."
I swallowed hard.
"And your brothers."
He continued.
"They need not remain laborers if they do not wish it."
"They may apprentice." He said almost kindly.
"That costs money." I stated then therelization hit me as he said it.
"It does."
"And now..."
"...that is no longer the obstacle."
I stared at the parchment.
"I..."
The castellan wasn't finished.
"There is, however..."
"...another matter."
I looked up.
"What matter?"
"Your sister is eleven."
I nodded.
"Aye."
"An eleven-year-old girl who suddenly possesses property..."
"...coin..."
"...and a profitable stable..."
He folded his hands.
"...will attract attention."
"What sort of attention?"
"The wrong sort."
"There are always men who think another's fortune should become their own."
"They may attempt to deceive her."
"Pressure her."
"Perhaps even seek marriage for the wrong reasons."
My stomach tightened.
"I hadn't thought of that."
"I would not expect you to."
He smiled. "You are a good lad. So let me ask."
"Is there anyone in your village you trust?"
I didn't hesitate.
"Mr. Goffin. He's the Adventure Guild Master."
I paused then told him why. "I've done a fair bit of work for him."
"He always paid what he promised."
"If there wasn't work, he'd tell me instead of stringing me along."
"He knows everybody."
"The good folk."
"The bad ones."
"Who's honest."
"Who's likely to cheat you."
I smiled despite myself.
"I sometimes think he knows everything that happens before it happens."
The castellan chuckled.
"A good guild master usually does."
He made another note.
"Then I believe we have our answer."
"What answer?" I aksed.
"The village has no bank."
"The Adventurers' Guild already keeps coin, valuables, contracts, and ledgers."
"It is the obvious choice."
He looked at me.
"I shall recommend that a portion of your fortune be lodged with Master Goffin."
"Not all of it?"
He laughed softly.
"Heavens, no."
"No village of two or three hundred souls should suddenly find itself with two thousand six hundred gold crowns."
"That would invite every thief within a hundred miles."
He held up a finger.
"A modest sum."
"Enough to repair the stable."
"Purchase the cattle."
"Hire labor an provide for your family." He paused/
"The remainder shall remain safely invested under the Duke's authority, for now."
"And Mr. Goffin?"
"He will receive two letters."
"One from you."
"So he knows your wishes."
"And one from His Grace."
I blinked.
"The Duke?"
"Indeed."
"It will place your family's affairs under his protection."
"If anyone attempts to cheat your sister..."
He smiled thinly.
"They will not merely be cheating an orphan."
"They will be interfering in a household the Duke himself has taken an interest in."
Silence filled the room.
I let out a long breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding.
"So..."
"My family really will be all right?"
The castellan smiled.
For the first time since we'd met...
It wasn't the smile of an administrator.
It was the smile of an older man speaking to a frightened boy.
"If fortune favors us..."
He folded the ledger closed.
"...they will be considerably more than all right."
"And when you return home..."
He rested a hand on the book.
"I suspect you shall find not merely a surviving family..."
"...but one that has been given the chance to build a future."