The fortnight that followed was quite slow. Thorley ended up staying in Lord Arden’s territory for longer than expected. So long that Clifton had to return to the estate to deliver word about the man’s ventures.
“Scouting?” Lucan asked, sweat on his brow and a training sword in his hand. He stabbed into the sand as Aldous left him to spar with someone else.
“Aye, my lord,” Clifton said. “He first hid out by The Needles for a few days, studying the castle as though it hid a secret only he knew.”
Lucan nodded, and the man-at-arms continued.
“Then he circled around the heart of the Arden estate, eventually riding east to the border. He has been scrutinizing the border since then. He has been particularly thorough in watching the Ardens’ patrols. He was nearly caught too.”
“Oh?” Lucan raised a brow.
“He seemed too intent on making a count of Sir Sarin’s men,” Clifton said with a perplexed countenance. “One of the men spotted him once, and the rest were quick to search out the hinterlands for the interloper. We were nearly endangered ourselves.” The man-at-arms wore a wry smile. “We had to flee across the territory just as he did. In the end, he returned to hide out by the Needles, and that is when I rode north to deliver word, my lord.”
“I see.” Lucan frowned. His suspicions grew weightier every day. If the princess was indeed in league with the pretender for the Arden seat, then matters were more grave than they’d thought. They couldn’t allow Thorley to gather enough knowledge to aid their enemies. “It is time to tell Sir Sarin about his uninvited guest.” He met Clifton’s eyes. “Only tell him that we have caught wind of this interloper, nothing more. Let fate take its course for our friend.” He paused, contemplating their chances. In truth, he didn’t want Sir Sarin to seize Thorley, for the princess might demand his help in releasing her man. Yet, he couldn’t dispose of him either. Perhaps he could scare him away from the South with a warning, but that would be buying the princess’s enmity. No, this was best. “Keep on his trail until he departs the South or is seized by Sir Sarin. Make certain he does not know of your part in his plight.”
Clifton nodded. “Aye, my lord.”
“You have your leave.”
Clifton departed the estate as fast as he entered it, riding South to reunite with Tomis.
Lucan racked his training sword and went for a bath, after which he chose to walk with his old steward instead of conferring together in the study.
They walked down the walkway to the inner bailey, where a thin wooden tower was rising, soon to be their belltower. Sawyer was ever the industrious man, having traveled to Lord Ravencroft’s territory and begun work on the canal without neglecting Lucan’s wish for a belltower.
“Cordell has accepted a few recruits already,” Thomas said as they walked into the town. With a slightly pained voice, he continued, “Some of the wares for the company have been procured, and the rest have been spoken for.”
“I know it has been costly on our coffers, Thomas,” Lucan said. “However, it is only to push the wagon down the hill. These men will barely demand anything beyond feeding and paying them when in training. Each will cost us even less than a guardsman every winter.”
Thomas nodded with some reluctance, but even the frugal steward knew that coin was only as good as the blade that guarded it. He had brought forth no objections since their talk of the matter a fortnight ago. Lucan had accounted for the ruinous expense of having a standing retinue of a hundred men when he’d planned this, after all. Most of his peers relied on levies raised in times of need. He, however, had chosen the better of two goods; having trained men who were ready to do battle when needed, but at the same time, who did not have to stand in service for most of the year. They could keep themselves fed and accounted for when they had their freedom, and they would be fed and accounted for while being trained and should he need them for war.
Thomas nodded. “Aldous is rather anxious to begin his tourneys. Another expense, though not as harsh on our treasury.”
“Another need that we have to address,” Lucan said. “You must admit, Thomas, that Aldous has been a blessing to the estate.”
“He has been.” Thomas nodded again. “The circumstances under which he has joined us are quite peculiar; however, one can only say we have been fortunate. A cloud still seems to hover over him wherever he goes though.”
Lucan hummed. “Yes. I don’t think he has left what happened in the Wilderlands behind yet. I reckon he rebukes himself more than anyone has thought to rebuke him.”
Thomas huffed with some pity. “Only few would have stood their ground before the abomination you’ve told me about, Lucan. Most men would come apart, perhaps never to regather themselves.”
“Indeed.” Lucan nodded. “True, indeed.”
A month passed by somewhat calmly. Aside from Tomis and Clifton’s return with word about Thorley, nothing of great import had occurred. Once Sir Sarin had begun hunting down the princess’s man, the latter had fled, but he’d ended up being chased west into Lord Cassius’s land. Lucan was satisfied with that, since word would take even longer to reach the princess about the Arden affairs.
In his study, Lucan leaned back in his chair as Thomas relayed word brought about by passing merchants.
“How soon do they expect it to happen?” he asked.
“They could be fighting as we speak, my lord,” Thomas said.
Lucan sighed. The two princes had arrayed their forces against each other in the royal territories east of Eldham. A battle was brewing, or perhaps, as Thomas had said, it was already happening. They would surely hear of its consequences soon enough.
“Let us set our minds to our own affairs for now,” Lucan said at last. “But keep your ears to the ground.” Thomas nodded, and Cordell, who stood to his side, did the same.
Lucan got to his feet and nodded towards the door. “Let me see what you and Sawyer have wrought.” He stretched an open hand to the side. There was a pause, then there was a scurry, a bump, and then his sheathed sword was placed in his hand. Lucan gave Venn a quick glance and saw an apologetic look on the boy’s face. Thomas had deemed him barely prepared for his duties as a page, and Lucan had chosen to cut the boy’s suffering short by having him learn in doing.
They left the study together, marching out of the keep and down the walkway with a keen stride. Down in the bailey, they went through a gate that had been carved into the palisade as of late. The estate had been using the barren land between the two canals more often, and Sawyer had seen it sensible to build eastern gates through the bailey’s palisades and the town’s timber wall.
The bailey’s palisade had simply been rooted out of place where the gate was now, its base filled with dirt, and a two-leaved gate of similar thickness had taken its place. Past it, they had to walk a street paved with cobblestone to reach the town’s eastern gate.
This side of the town was still somewhat empty, with most of the townsmen and merchants crowding the other corners. To the west, near the town’s main gate, was the market where trade happened. The northern edge of town held most of the affluent folks’ houses, overlooking the beautiful sloped woods and the canal beyond them. The rest of the folk lived around those two corners of Silvergate. With the coming flood of fresh laborers, Lucan was certain that this side of his town would fill up soon enough as well.
They reached the town wall, a much grander work, three logs thick, and infilled with dirt to keep it stable. The logs were laid flat on top of each other, forming a proper crest which could be patrolled high up.
They passed through the fortified gatehouse, eyes and ears captured by a tumult in the distance. They walked towards the noise, unconcerned, and Lucan could now see dozens of men fumbling with spears and attempting to mime the thrusts Aldous was showing them. The master-at-arms was standing in front of four rows of men, executing several simple thrusts and sweeps for their eyes.
“We have accepted more than forty recruits,” Cordell, who was walking beside him, began. “Several of them have marched on the campaign in the Wilderlands with us. I have even given a pair of them armbands for the Battle of The Dam, two proper battle-hardened men.”
Lucan nodded. “Splendid. How long do you reckon it will take to have the full company?”
“Perhaps another month,” Cordell said. “Summer is beginning, and plenty of folk will have leisure. Those who need the coin or fancy themselves warriors will flock to us sooner or later.”
“And their training?”
“Aldous and I take turns drilling them,” Cordell said. “He trains them with their weapons, and I work them to the bone. Once we have a hundred men, they will learn to stand and march in proper formation.”
With another satisfied nod, Lucan strode around the field the company had taken for training. The men seemed to stand straighter and swing harder upon his arrival.
Lucan scrutinized them, seeing nothing on the men but a haphazard assortment of padding and gambesons, since supplying their armor was still underway.
“They ought to be battle-ready after summer, my lord,” Cordell continued.
Lucan shook his head this time. “How battle-ready? I don’t want well-armed levies, Cordell. I want soldiers. Hopefully, they don’t have to see battle until they are prepared for it.”
The sergeant-at-arms nodded mutely.
Lucan turned south, gazing at the running waters of the canal. “Venn.”
The boy jolted. “Yes!”
“Run back and have the stableboy bring our horses. I wish to visit Sawyer and his works.”