“As already expected, the prices on grain and iron are on the rise as merchants catch on the possibility of war,” Alon, Hagen’s chamberlain, read the report from his bulky ledger. “There’s little to be done about the grain other than using up our stocks to supply the troops. As for the iron, we could either divert the workers from our quarries to the mines or introduce forced labor into the criminal population. A third option would be to start buying batches of slaves—”
“No,” Hagen said assuredly from behind his desk. He may not follow the teachings of Alella as strictly as his wife, but even he didn't feel comfortable about treating as commodity people who did nothing wrong. His wasn’t the majority’s opinion, and there may very well come a time where he’ll have no choice but to start buying slaves given how cheaper they were on the long run when compared to proper workers. But until then, he would maintain his decision.
Besides, he’d hate to see how Athalia would react to it, especially with how attached she became to John. It seemed clear to Hagen that she saw herself as some sort of mother figure to Jonathan’s son. Right at this moment, she was around the castle, preparing something for the boy.
At first, Hagen had his doubts about keeping Jonathan’s son living with him, but he proved to be a remarkable boy. Not only that but with Athalia becoming so fond of him, she stopped pushing for children as much as she used to. That gave Hagen time to focus solely on what was to come.
“We’ll make the criminals work to reduce their sentences. Make sure that they are constantly watched at all times. The last thing I need is a bunch of miscreants running free inside my city. As for the quarry workers, we’ll keep them where they are, at least for now.”
“Certainly, my lord,” Alon responded, scribbling something down on the ledger. Rather than a quill, the Warlock simply waved his finger around in the air, using his magic to burn the words on the parchment. “That’s it for supplies and, with the state of the coffers, there should be no problems about paying the troops. That is, as long as the war is concluded before winter. If it isn’t, then we may have to resort to pillaging.”
Hagen hoped to avoid such a scenario at all costs. His goal at taking part in this war was to stop the people at Knight’s Crossing from being oppressed by Rass Skanler. Not only that, but Vasilis also painted himself as a liberator for the people living there. If his troops began stealing the people’s food and valuables, especially in winter, then it wouldn't be long until he was seen as another tyrant. “We need to end this war as quickly as possible. Has there been any changes at Knight’s Crossing?”
Alon leafed through his ledger. “Yes, a detachment of troops has been posted near the border, although they are far too few to pose a threat to our forces. I would bet that they’re only there as a lookout to warn Skanler in case of an invasion. Most of his troops are likely still spread throughout his territory.”
“Good. As soon as Vasilis raises his troops, then we’ll be marching straight to the capital. Speaking of which, has there been any news from him?”
Alon fished inside his robes to produce a letter, its seal already broken by him. “He says that preparations are going smoothly and that they should be ready by the end of the month,” Alon said, placing the open letter atop the desk. “As for his son, I’ve kept him under constant watch as you requested. He hasn’t left the house even once since you placed him there.”
Hagen nodded along to his words. Last time, he had raised his forces only to Vasilis to disappear at the last moment. Hagen refused to let that happen again, which is why he had Devran under watch as an assurance that his father wouldn't disappear again.
The door to the study room opened up and Hagen already knew who it was before even looking up. Only his wife or Alon were able to walk straight into the place like that.
Athalia had a light smile on her face that, to Hagen, seemed clearly forced. Hagen was about to ask her about it when he noticed another figure behind her.
The older man’s hair was completely white on the sides and non-existent at the top. A bushy mustache covered his lips, and he dressed in black clothes with golden accents. His right hand held onto a smooth obsidian cane.
Hagen stood up from his chair and walked around the desk to greet the man. “Lord Edgarth, it’s a pleasure to see you.”
“The feeling is mutual, my lord,” Edgarth greeted back, though he failed to show a smile.
Edgarth Tascer was a viscount and a direct vassal of Hagen's. While that was the case on paper, the reality was somewhat more complicated due to the old man’s prestige and status as a war hero.
Back during the first war for The Devil’s Tongue, Travan Olsandre, the current duke’s grandfather, and his forces were surrounded by Olsen soldiers. Edgarth led the cavalry charge that broke the encirclement, saving the duke’s life but costing Edgarth his right leg from the knee down. After such a prestigious feat, Travan rewarded Edgarth with a fiefdom.
Despite being Edgarth’s liege, Hagen was never able to exercise his authority over the old man as well as he would like to. Years ago, when Hagen prepared to rally his troops in support of Vasilis, Edgarth directly opposed him and even tried to convince the rest of Hagen’s vassals to do the same. He failed, though the story could very well change this time.
Alon stood up from his chair and offered it to Edgarth, who promptly accepted it.
“Now,” Hagen said, returning to his seat behind the desk, “to what do I owe the pleasure? We weren’t expecting your arrival until the end of the week.”
“Yes, I decided that it would be better to arrive earlier rather than later. It should give me more time to adjust and also to do what I came here to do.”
“Which is?” he asked, already sure of what the answer would be.
Edgarth finally smiled, leaning forward in his chair. He placed his obsidian cane on the vertical, both hands over the handle and his chin over his hands. “To make you see reason, of course. Once again you want to support that foreigner on his ludicrous war plans. Don’t you see how much unrest you’re causing not only to Rochdale and Knight’s Crossing, but also to Somerford as a whole?”
“I’m dealing with a problem that should’ve been dealt with long ago. Rass Skanler has to go. And as for Somerford, if I was truly causing unrest to it, then duke Olsandre would make me stop.”
“He sympathizes with you, I can see that. He may be a few decades older, but the duke is still as inexperienced as you. Rather than opposing Rass Skanler, you should be offering your support so that he may keep his control over Knight’s Crossing.”
Hagen’s patience began to run thin. “Do you even hear yourself speaking? Rass Skanler is a monster, the only way he knows how to rule is through pain and fear. That’s why his people are rising up against him.”
“Which is exactly why you should be offering your support. So that he doesn’t have to use such tactics. That way, the commoners will keep on following his orders as they are supposed to.”
Hagen was about to lose his calm when Athalia stepped into the conversation. “That’s a lie and you know it. That monster doesn’t do it because he has to, but because he enjoys it. You heard of what Rass did to Vasilis, how he castrated the man, and how he raped his wife before ordering the soldiers to do the same. This all started because of him.”
Edgarth scoffed. “So? They are commoners, lowborns whose only right and obligation is to obey us. If that upstart lost his masculinity, then it was because his lord decided he wasn’t fit to reproduce. And if Rass decided to use the man’s wife for his own pleasure, then she should feel grateful for the opportunity of serving.”
Athalia clenched her fist and, for a moment, Hagen feared that she would attack Edgarth. That would be a sight to see, though it would be over quickly given his advanced age. Hagen wagered that the old man could barely go against a Crusader anymore. Alas, she refrained herself, although she certainly was of the same mind that the old man deserved to have his face caved in.
“There’s a reason why we’re the nobility while the rest is made to serve us. We were chosen to take such a role, be it by Alella, Rothar, or even the Holy Flame.” With a groan, Edgarth stood up from his chair. “Last time, the rest of your vassals ignored me, choosing instead to follow you into your foolish endeavor. After raising troops only to disband them months later, I’d like to see what their answer will be this time.” With that, he limped out of the room, his cane tapping against the carpet.
“That callous, haughty old man,” Athalia cursed as soon as Alon closed the door. “He’ll keep on working against us.”
“Then we need to make sure that he fails,” Hagen responded. He turned to Alon. “How many do you have watching over Vasilis’ son?”
“Three Paladins, one Warlock, and ten Crusaders, my lord.”
“Double it, then. From now on, they’re also to make sure that Devran is safe. I wouldn’t put it past Edgarth to go after Devran in hopes of stopping his parents.”
“Certainly. My lord should also inform young John to not go near the place then.”
Athalia ears perked up at that. “John? What does he have to do with it?”
“He seems to have taken a liking for a small bakery near where Devran is housed at. He goes there at least twice a week.”
