02.52: Nebelhain

Thin shafts of sunlight peeking through the gaps in the heavy curtains woke me up the next morning.

My lithe lover was still there, pressed against me, her luscious black hair spilled across my chest. The scent of perfume and sweat still lingered in the air.

I gathered her into myself, her warmth making me forget about the world.

For a moment.

Then the night’s concerns surfaced.

We will prevail.

I kissed the top of her head.

“Good morning, sleepyhead.”

“Already?” she asked, voice hoarse.

“We were busy for a long time.”

A smirk graced her lips, as she leaned in to steal a kiss.

After getting dressed, I snuck out to find my guards to run interference.

At the door, Reshma leaned in for another kiss that threatened to become more, had we not separated.

“I’m going to beat your Aprilia,” she whispered, breath warm against my ear, “to be the first one to bear your child.”

Giving me one last smoldering look, she slipped out of the chambers to her own, carefully walking to hide a wobble.

Minutes later, we sat at breakfast as if nothing had happened last night.

Lord Harrowstead eyed us cautiously. Eirica was nowhere to be seen.

Had they heard us?

I found that I didn’t care.

“I hear you will be departing today, my lord,” the older man asked.

“Yes,” I said, taking a sip of the broth; rich and slightly briny.

Seafood wasn’t that terrible when prepared and seasoned properly.

“The hospitality of Harrowstead is yours, my lord. You are welcome to stay as long as you like,” he said the customary words without truly meaning them.

“Thank you, my lord, but I need to visit Nebelhain and Mondgrove. The presence of Royal troops should calm down any unrest there.”

He nodded in acceptance.

“Nebelhain is calm as far as I know. Shouldn’t you visit Mondgrove first?”

I shook my head. “A hundred fifty soldiers will travel through the Queen’s road to its capital, while the rest of us will go through Nebelhain, then approach the city from the north, surrounding it in a pincer move. It’s the only place where we expect meaningful resistance.”

He looked impressed despite himself.

“Would your coastline happen to have any hidden coves?” I asked.

His bushy eyebrows lifted up. “May I inquire why?”

“I would like to acquire one for myself if you have it.”

He shook his head. “Unfortunately, no. Our coastline is quite shallow. No such formations.”

“Hmm. That doesn’t mean it can’t have any sea-based trade.”

His eyebrows knotted. “It does. If a vessel can’t be rowed, it can’t approach our coast.”

“Only with current limitations.”

I let the implication hang.

“If our relations deepen,” I said lightly, “maybe Harrowstead will find itself handling more than just land based trade.”

His face remained expressionless, but internally he must’ve been wondering what I was smoking.

Ignoring him, I went back to my breakfast.

They had some fine seafood dishes.

Eirica found me afterwards in the castle’s courtyard that faced the sea. A breeze carrying the smell of salt and fish greeted us..

My traitorous heart fluttered before I could still it.

“Could I talk to you in private, my lord?”

I led her to a secluded spot.

She stepped closer. “Jack, I’m worried about Cedric. Do you think I should take him with us or keep him here?”

“What did your father say?”

“The people of Mondgrove need to see their Baron and his guardian.”

“He’s right. We have four hundred soldiers with us, Eirica. Someone would have to be suicidal to attack us.”

That does mean it is possible. Nowhere is perfectly safe.

I kept that thought to myself. No need to say that to an already worried mother.

“If anything happens to him…”

“Your carriage will be surrounded by hundreds of soldiers. He won’t be harmed, I swear it on my life.”

“What about in Mondgrove?”

“Hmm. What are the chances anyone there can organize a credible threat, with Grunric in our custody?” I asked.

She thought about it for some time.

“Not much. There’s no one there who should be able to gather all of the nobles under him like Grunric. They should have fractured into groups.”

“Then we should be fine,” I said, patting her shoulder.

“What if we decide to stay behind?”

“This is a very well defended castle and your father has many veterans, but none of that matters to someone with enough means. I don’t recommend it.”

She exhaled, nodding in acceptance, then looked at me furtively.

“Jack, is Lady Reshma just your… mistress?”

I hesitated before asking my own question.

“Why do you ask?”

My voice came out more defensive that intended.

“I’m sorry if I’m being too nosy,” she said haltingly.

I left her question unanswered and walked away.

If being an asshole would destroy any feelings she had for me, then I would happily be one to her.

A breath of relief left me when Sir Grimric informed me the force was ready to depart, scouts already left an hour ago.

Thurvald didn’t look too happy about me splitting his force into half, but I didn’t completely trust the Nordhaven men.

He and Sir Hagen bowed and left with the force of a hundred and fifty men, half Nordhaven and half Royal troops, with instructions to stay at a safe distance from Mondgrove’s capital, Althafen and make sure nobody fled through them.

Our party was going to be the slow one, as we had to traverse the entire length of Nebelhain, a completely mountainous barony.

Garwin and Sifrena shared a private talk before she went into my carriage.

Reshma followed, giving me a wink.

I winked back from atop my horse.

I rode next to Garwin, whose cheeks were still pink.

“How is your future bride treating you?” I asked the young man.

“Well, my lord,” he said.

The banners of the crown and the houses of Nobart, Nordhaven and Nebelhain fluttered as our entourage left Harrowstead and began its journey up the forest covered hills of Nebelhain.

The capital, Blackridge wasn’t that far away as the crow flew, but we were not birds, limited by the mountainous terrain. Traveling on the thin winding roads was a lot slower than marching over the almost flat terrain from Falkenheim to Harrowstead. Hooves stuck stone more than soil. The sharp and clean scent of pine and cedar thickened as we kept climbing.

Garwin was awfully quiet, and stiff.

I enhanced my senses, and sure enough, his heart was racing.

Nervousness about his upcoming marriage, or something else?

“So, my lord, do you think the soldiers will need to use their training in Nebelhain?” I asked him.

“No, my liege,” he said, hesitating. “Some of the claimants killed each other in the fighting for the title of Baron. The rest I removed in the following weeks. I believe one fled into the woods, but I put a reliable man in charge before I came to meet you. Lady’s Sifrena’s Steward is also quite capable. Things would have to go completely out of hand for your soldiers to draw their weapons here.”

“Let’s hope you are right,” I said, shelving the topic for now.

Around noon, we came around a bend in the hills, and a settlement emerged, nestled within terraced fields of grain. A few dozen houses made of stone and wood, with steeply pitched gray roofs of slate, their upper stories jutting out in front. Above them stood a fortified manor, with a tall wooden tower next to it and a stone wall around it.

A village of less than four hundred people. A town by the small barony’s standards.

Garwin pointed to it. “Welcome to Dunkelhof, my lord. My hereditary seat.”

“A beautiful place,” I said, and meant it.

As we approached it, the air shook with a loud sonorous sound. A welcoming party awaited us, with two men blowing on large S-shaped trumpets.

Cheers of “Long live Baron Garwin! Long live Count Jack!” rose as we disembarked to greet Garwin’s mother and cousins, with curious villagers surrounding us. They welcomed us with traditional garlands made of pine nuts.

A celebratory feast had been prepared for us and they wouldn’t let us go without feeding us, despite our protests.

Garwin looked at me helplessly, and I finally nodded. A bit of delay wouldn’t hurt us.

Moore and Grimric settled the force of two hundred and fifty where they could, leaving a small contingent with us. There was no way such a small settlement could host all of them. Luckily, they also had supply carts with a week’s worth of provisions trailing them.

Courses of roasted meat, coarse flat bread and a thick stew of yam with a rice-like grain followed, along with local fermented drink. Hardy meals for strong mountain folk.

There was some fish as well.

“Why are you smiling… my lord? You tolerate fish the best of days.” Reshma asked with a look of surprise.

“That’s not true! More importantly, the coast is half a day away and this is fresh. Smooth logistics means things aren’t too bad here.”

The people wanted to regale us with tales of their lord’s bravery and their history, but after finding out we could make it to the capital before sundown, I had to refuse them.

As we continued our journey, I noticed Garwin was just as nervous as he was in the morning.

I leaned toward Moore. “Do you know why he is so nervous?”

“No, Sire. He looks fine to me.”

As the sun continued its journey to the horizon, a breeze from the sea arrived with a faint mist to greet us.

Close to the capital, a husk of a settlement emerged from the mist like a ghost, more than half of its houses badly burnt. Their timber was gone, the dark remnants piled to the side, leaving only stone foundations behind.

Two of the houses had been completely demolished and were being rebuilt by the locals, with a skeleton of new timber already in place. The men glanced at us, then kept doing their work.

This had happened weeks ago, but the smell of burnt wood was still there.

I enhanced my senses again.

Burnt flesh?

“What happened here?” I asked.

“War,” Garwin said hesitantly, then bowed. “By your leave, I will inform you of everything once we are in the capital.”

Should have informed me days ago.

Trust -1

“Give me a summary.”

“The Baron’s first cousin tried to force others into submission. They refused.”

“He did this?”

“No. This was retaliation for his retaliation.”

“Halt!” I ordered.

The entire column shuddered like some old train until it came to a halt.

“Who’s the leader here?”

“I am,” one of the older men working on the timbers answered.

“How many died here?”

“Many.”

“I need a number.”

“Twenty-seven,” he croaked, voice breaking.

Devastating loss for a small mountain settlement.

“Who ordered it?”

“All of them,” he spat.

“Moore!” I called.

He was there by my side in an instant.

I gave him my coin pouch.

“A gold coin to each person here.”

He froze, then nodded and ran off to distribute them, along with his guards.

The old man bowed deeply.

I tried to exhale the anger away.

All this devastation, just because of one fool and a system that couldn’t handle his and his lackeys’ absence.

I had spent a lot more time in Nobart than I had planned, pushing the council system.

Reshma was right. I was making more enemies for myself with this system, but I had made the right decision.

Feudalism had to go, one way or another.

We reached Blackridge, the capital of Nebelhain, before the sun had set.

As its name implied, it was a city built around a black ridge of the mountain. The castle looked like it grew out of the mountain. A squat, wide structure. It didn’t need to be tall, as it looked over all the lands from the mountain like a lord looming over his subjects.

Almost two hundred stone and wood houses with slate roofs surrounded it.

Horns blared as the people left whatever they were doing to welcome us.

Our column marched through the steep, narrow winding streets, lined with cheering people, until we reached the castle.

The steward and Garwin’s second-in-command, who was clearly his younger brother, were at the gates, and welcomed us with the same gusto shown by the people of Dunkelhof.

Too bad I wasn’t in the mood to enjoy it.

The local elites and soldiers stayed at a distance in the courtyard while the steward told Garwin and Sifrena about the situation of the barony, which seemed stable. No active banditry but barely enough grain stores for winter.

Then, Garwin approached me and knelt, his head hung low.

“I have a confession to make, my liege.”

I looked around at the crowd surrounding us before turning my attention back to him. “In front of everyone?”

He nodded, while Sifrena looked on, lips thin.

Not a politician, this one. Or maybe a very shrewd one. Or at least coached by one.

“I withheld crucial information from you about the succession conflict, even when you chose me to be the Baron, despite my weak claim.”

He swallowed.

“While the other claimants fought, killing each other’s men and burning each other’s holdings, I held back. I did not strike until they were weak. Until… I had gathered more. Those who suffered at the hands of other claimants. My own force was small. Eleven trained men and a hundred and twenty militia. If I had marched, I would have lost everything. My seat and my people.”

“Was your seat your entire support base?” I asked coldly.

“Yes. I beg for your forgiveness.”

“I am not the one who lost his home or life.”

He remained there, still as a statue.

“Would fewer people have died if you had acted sooner?”

“Yes,” he answered instantly.

I let out a long sigh.

“It is not a crime to care about your life, my lord. You had the smallest domain of all contenders and hence the smallest force. Any premature move and you would have been dead. Look at the people.”

He raised his head hesitantly, scanning the crowd.

Sifrena stood rigid, Reshma and Grimric observing everyone like hawks.

“The people are what matter. The land and title are worthless without them. I see no malice in your actions, only caution. All of this happened because there was no system to keep the peace once the lord of the land was dead.”

I looked at the crowd. “That has been rectified.”

Then turned my attention back to the kneeling man. “Sir Garwin, do you swear to uphold the council system, so that your land will not descent into chaos in your absence?”

“I do, my lord.”

“Good. Sir Grimric?”

The knight of the Royal Guards stepped forward.

“Can you vouch that this man acted with integrity and valor while he was in Falkenheim?”

“Yes.” His answer was instant.

I let out a long sigh.

“Circlet?”

The Steward hurried to fetch it, while Garwin remain kneeling.

Taking the simple gold loop, I put it on Garwin’s head.

I whispered in his ear. “You should have been forthright with me. If it all happened as you say it did, you don’t share any blame for it.”

If the man was hiding more unpleasant truths, he was a cunning little bastard, but I didn’t have time to deal with a small barony’s issues. Reshma or Laira would have to embed spies here to figure out the truth.

I had bigger fish to fry.

I addressed the crowd. “As the Count of Nobart, under the authority of Her Majesty Laira Nanon, I name Sir Garwin the Baron of Nebelhain.”

The crowd erupted in cheers.

In relief more than happiness.