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A/N: Hey everyone. Welcome back.
As announced earlier, from today, FLTL will have much longer chapters. Hopefully that will let you enjoy the story more.
As per the new schedule, the next chapters will be on Wednesday, and then on Friday.
Enjoy.
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Kivamus nodded. “Once we have the lathes, our weapon production should increase by a lot, for both crossbows and scorpions. The lathes will also make it easier to make the handles of a dagger or the haft of a sword. Once we give one of the lathes to the fletcher, he can produce many times more bolts and arrows than he does now. And once the village walls and the industrial area are protected properly, we can consider building watchtowers near the farm area too and mounting scorpions on them.”
Hudan glanced at him again. “More scorpions...”
“Many more, eventually,” Kivamus said. “Another idea I have is mounting a scorpion on a wagon once we have enough wagons too. In case of a siege, it would work as a mobile siege engine. In an emergency, it could be taken out of one gate, moved around an enemy group, and used to attack them from the rear.”
Hudan’s face changed as he imagined it.
“They are powerful enough,” Kivamus continued, “that even a few shots could kill or disable a group of a dozen unprepared enemies if used well. So if we keep a few of those wagons in the barracks area, they could be very useful in a crisis.”
Hudan grinned. “Oh, I can already think of a few other ways to use them. I think they are going to be Tiranat's hidden dagger!”
Duvas glanced at him as they walked through the large open ground that would one day become the new marketplace. “I suppose you were not joking when you said you wanted to make Tiranat a fortress.”
Kivamus snorted. “Even if we do everything I just said, this village will still be far from a fortress. Not with enemies surrounding us from nearly every direction. But yeah, I have many other ideas. Stronger weapons. Stronger walls. Better defenses. One day, this place really will be a fortress. Nobody will ever burn this village to the ground again, if I have any say in it.”
Hudan grinned wider. “I can’t say how glad I am that I came to this village. I would never have seen this kind of progress in such a small village if I had joined the army at Fort Aragosa. I can’t wait to see those things built.”
“Neither can I,” Kivamus chuckled.
As they passed the temple compound near the western wall while taking the long route to the manor, Kivamus saw Father Edric turn away from one of the villagers.
The priest had been speaking with a woman near the small wooden gate of the temple. Once she left, he noticed Kivamus’s group approaching and smiled. Duvas and Hudan both bowed to him. Kivamus gave him a respectful nod.
It had been a while since he had spoken properly with the old priest. There was always something else to do these days, and temple matters had slipped lower than they should have. So instead of continuing straight toward the manor, Kivamus slowed and walked toward him.
“Father Edric,” he said.
“Lord Kivamus,” the priest replied. “It is good to see you. You look busy as always.”
“That seems to be how things are these days,” Kivamus chuckled.
Father Edric smiled faintly. “I heard that you have started paying everyone in coin. Many people have come to the temple speaking of it. That is a good thing. It gives people dignity when their work is valued properly.”
“I’m only doing what needs to be done,” Kivamus said. “They are working hard. They deserve to be paid for it.”
“That may be true,” Edric said, “but many lords might still choose not to do it.”
Kivamus did not know what to say to that, so he only gave a small shrug.
The priest looked at him for another moment, and then his expression grew more serious.
“That being said,” Edric continued, “I have been meaning to speak with you for a while.”
Kivamus became more alert. “What is it about?”
Father Edric stayed silent for a few moments. The wind shifted lightly through the open space near the temple, bringing with it the smell of dust, wood, and the faint smoke from cooking fires somewhere farther in the village.
“It is about all the things you are changing in Tiranat,” Edric said at last, gesturing to the whole village.
Kivamus considered asking him to come to the manor so they could speak in private. Then he noticed the four guards in the box formation nearby. They were pretending not to listen, but all of them had become a little too still. Hudan and Duvas were also standing beside him.
If he suddenly took the priest away for a private talk, it would only make the conversation seem more suspicious.
So Kivamus remained where he was.
“Alright,” he said. “I’m listening.”
Father Edric turned slightly, looking toward the northwest where the scorpion testing had taken place. “I was walking nearby earlier and heard the sound of that new weapon you were testing. I did not come close enough to disturb anyone, and I am far from a weapons expert anyway, so I cannot say what exactly I saw. But I saw enough to know it was something new. Something unusual.”
Kivamus did not answer.
“All kinds of people come to me,” Edric continued. “I hear lots of stories. About the longhouse blocks, the new roads, the contraptions near the dam, the powdered medicine, the crossbows, the new wages, and now that large weapon being tested near the wall.”
His eyes returned to Kivamus.
“I do not believe you are doing something like witchcraft, or even that you are doing anything evil. I have seen enough of you to know that you only want to help people. But still, many of the things you keep making do not make sense to me.”
Duvas shifted slightly beside Kivamus, but said nothing.
Father Edric folded his hands in front of him. “I have been a priest for five decades. I began studying for the temple before I was ten years old, and now I have seen more than sixty winters. Yet I have never seen anyone like you.”
He paused again, choosing his words with care.
“I do not know how religious you are, or how much you know about this tenet of the Goddess' creed, but one of the core duties of the temple is to preserve order and continuity. We do not welcome sudden change. Not easily.”
Kivamus understood at once why Duvas had gone still.
“The last time changes came quickly on this scale was around a hundred years ago, during the reign of the mad king,” Edric said. “That was chaos. Many lives were lost during those years. In the end, one can say the kingdom became more stable because of it. The smaller rulers stopped fighting each other so much, and common people could spend more time farming and raising their families safely instead of losing children to battles fought for a noble’s pride.”
His mouth tightened slightly.
“But that is easy to say now, after everything is over. I was not alive then, but my grandfather was. He told me stories about those days. For common people, it was not some grand unification of the Kingdom of Reslinor. It was fear, hunger, armies passing through, homes burned, and families wondering if they would still be alive after the next season.”
The priest looked toward the temple for a moment.
“After that, the archbishop in the capital Dorastiz issued an edict. The temple would stand for continuity. The temple would not encourage sudden change. Better slow hardship than chaos that burns everything down.”
Kivamus felt his mouth go dry.
Duvas looked worried now too.
“Then what do you want?” Kivamus asked carefully. “Do you want me to stop helping the village?”
“No,” Father Edric said at once.
That single word eased some of the pressure in Kivamus’s chest.
“No,” the priest repeated, more slowly this time. “I do not want you to stop. If nothing else, it is plain to see that the villagers are far healthier this summer than they were last year. They all get to eat three times a day. Everyone has shelter now, even if it is only a bunk in a crowded hall.”
His eyes softened a little.
“I do not remember the temple ever being this empty. Before, there were always orphans, the elderly, the crippled, or those too sick or injured to work staying there because they had nowhere else to go. The temple does not have much of its own. We live from donations and from what I and my disciples gather from the forest. We still did our best for them. But now those people live in the longhouse blocks instead.”
He gave a small, tired smile.
“People still visit the temple most days, of course. Some come to pray. Some come to speak. Some only come to sit in silence for a while. But apart from me and my disciples, no one has to live there permanently anymore. I suppose that is a good thing.”
Kivamus stayed quiet.
“I have also seen large groups of people arriving recently,” Edric continued. “From the west once. From the north twice. I have spoken with some of them when they came to the temple. They told me about their lives before coming here.”
He looked directly at Kivamus again.
“But they were also accompanied by guards when they arrived. That connects with the other rumors. That you are not only giving shelter to refugees who escape on their own, but actively bringing slaves here.”
Hudan’s jaw tightened.
Duvas looked as if he wanted to say something, but stopped himself.
Father Edric continued before either of them spoke. “That would normally be a valid reason for me to report the matter to the head priest in Cinran, who might take it to the Count, or to the bishop in Ulriga.”
Kivamus held himself still.
“But,” Edric said, “I have seen how those people are treated here. I have heard your announcements that no one who comes here remains a slave. And those are not empty words. I have seen that much for myself.”
His voice grew firmer. “I have heard their stories. They are not free in name only. They are free in practice. They have the same rights and freedoms as any other villager here.”
Kivamus let out a slow breath through his nose. “Then what are you trying to decide, Father?”
“I do not know yet,” Edric admitted.
That answer was not comforting, but it was honest.
“In a way, I can only thank the Goddess that you arrived here and began doing all this,” the priest said. “Last year was very difficult. We lost people because there simply was not enough food. The village did not have any gold to buy it either. In earlier winters, I watched people freeze to death because they did not have enough shelter or fuel. It broke me to see that pain again and again.”
He looked toward the village now, at the roads, the longhouses, and the people moving in the distance.
“I was born elsewhere, but I have lived in Tiranat for two decades, since this village was founded after the previous war ended. This is my home now. It has been my home for a long time. So I cannot pretend that the changes have not helped. They have. But they are so fast that it is hard to keep up.”
Kivamus nodded slowly. “I cannot deny there are changes. And I cannot promise that more changes will not come. They will.”
Father Edric looked back at him.
“But I can promise you this,” Kivamus continued. “Everything I am doing is for my people. For these villagers. And not only the people who lived in Tiranat when I arrived.”
He hesitated only briefly before going on.
“I am the son of the Duke. I see everyone in this duchy as someone I should help if I can. And honestly, I do not care if they are from outside the duchy either. All the people of Reslinor are my people. If I have the power to help them live safely, eat well, and smile with their families and children, then I will do that.”
Edric watched him closely.
“One can never fully know another person,” the priest said after a while. “But I do not think you are lying to me. You do not seem to have any reason to.”
Hudan spoke before Kivamus could reply.
“I don’t know too much about temple matters,” the captain said. “But I can say this much. Lord Kivamus did not keep even a single extra coin for himself, even after the manor started paying wages to everyone in the village.”
Duvas turned sharply toward him. “You are not supposed to—”
He stopped, glanced at the priest, and then exhaled.
“I suppose it is fine,” the majordomo said. Then he looked at Father Edric. “I can confirm it. We insisted, but Lord Kivamus said he did not need anything extra for himself. He is satisfied with the same general allotment of food and clothing that every other manor resident receives, whether they are noble-born, common-born, or even former slaves.”
Duvas glanced briefly at Kivamus. “Lord Kivamus holds himself to the same standard he expects from others. Higher, in some ways.”
Kivamus was genuinely surprised.
Hudan and Duvas both supporting him like this, without being asked, left him unsure what to say. So he only gave them a small smile.
“Is that so?” Father Edric asked.
He stared at Kivamus for a few moments.
“Sometimes,” the priest said slowly, “I wonder how you are doing all this. Even for someone of noble birth, who had far better education than common people can even think of, it is difficult to imagine one person knowing so many things. And not just ordinary things. So many ideas that no one here had even thought of.”
Kivamus glanced at Duvas for a moment before looking back at the priest.
“I already invited you to visit the manor whenever you wish,” he said. “You may speak with the people there. If I have time, I can show you around and explain anything you are curious about.”
He kept his voice steady.
“But there are still some things I may not be able to tell you. Not yet.”
Father Edric held his gaze.
“I suppose everyone has their secrets,” the priest said at last. “And I cannot demand yours unless you choose to give them.”
Kivamus nodded.
For a moment none of them spoke.
Then Kivamus asked, “So what do you think? Are you going to report me?”
Father Edric looked away from him and studied the open space around them. People were coming and going along the road. Some were tired from work. Some were smiling as they spoke with one another. Some children ran past in the distance, while an older woman shouted after them to slow down. No one looked frightened. No one looked downtrodden.
The priest’s expression softened a little.
“I need to think more before I can give you a full answer,” he said. “I am not sure what I should do yet. But for now, you may continue what you are doing.”
Kivamus stayed silent, waiting.
“After seeing how hard last year was for everyone, and the welcome changes you have brought here,” Edric added, “I can't tell you to stop. I just cannot.”
He gave Kivamus a small nod.
“Take care, Lord Kivamus. May the Goddess smile upon you.”
Then he turned and walked away toward the temple.
Kivamus watched him for a few moments before he started treading toward the manor again. Duvas and Hudan walked with him, while the guards fell into formation around them.
He was not completely sure what the priest would decide in the future. But Father Edric had been here since the beginning, from the day Kivamus arrived in Tiranat. He had seen the changes from the start. If he had truly wanted to report Kivamus, he probably would have done it already.
That did not mean the issue was finished though.
It would be better to include the priest in some of the larger changes in the future, especially anything that would alter people’s lives in a major way. This was a deeply religious place, and if Father Edric supported the changes, or at least understood them, it would be much easier to move forward without fear spreading among the villagers.
With that thought in mind, Kivamus entered the manor grounds again, ready to take the final steps in completing the tenement block blueprint.
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