Baron Yarbeth

  Baron Weston Yarbeth sat with his wife and children at the long dining table in Baron Malcomp’s hall. His servants—and the contingent of soldiers he’d brought—had gone ahead of him to ensure everything was properly arranged for their arrival. Baron Malcomp himself sat opposite him: an imposing man with the posture of a well-trained knight and the decorum of a career soldier pretending to be a gentleman. The military stiffness that clung to the man made him less intimidating in Weston’s eyes.

  To Weston, Malcomp was little more than a simple knight dressed up in a baron’s title. Hardly different from the current Count of these lands—common blood elevated far beyond its station. The thought of lesser men being raised to stand equal with him, let alone above him, was an insult. Still, he would endure it. Soon enough, the House of Yarbeth would claim this land. He could be patient.

  “So,” Weston said, letting the disdain curl naturally into his voice, “how is it? Being ruled over by a boy?”

  His brother, the heir to the County of Yarbeth, had personally selected Baron Malcomp for his position. The man was loyal to a fault. Weston had no fear of Malcomp siding with the pretender child who fancied himself worthy of the elite.

  A long pause followed. Malcomp set down his spoon, dabbed his lips with a napkin, and finally said, “Enlightening.”

  Weston raised a brow. “Really? A barbarian who paints? What else could it be but a curiosity?”

  “I do not speak of his noble nature or lack thereof,” Malcomp replied. “I speak of what he brings to the world. Things change around him. He set a trap and defended his shores against an overwhelming number of raiders. He succeeded with untrained troops while being caught off guard. That inspires respect. I know why you are here, and I recommend caution. He is not a man to be underestimated.”

  Weston barely resisted the urge to scoff aloud. What did this puffed-up knight know? Malcomp was impressed by one fortunate maneuver—some trick the marsh-dweller stumbled into. Luck, nothing more. Weston had come here to put the boy in his place, and that was exactly what he intended to do.

  Baron Sophis had used his influence to ensure Weston couldn’t kill him, but Weston didn’t need to kill him. Removing him was more than enough. Weston had waited forty years for his chance to rise to the level of his brother, and now, while that brother sat waiting for their father to die, Weston would claim a county of his own. Then he would steal the treasures of Count Bicman and seize the precious mountain pass right out from under him.

  Just a little longer.

  And the County of North Cove would be his.

  John of Mit Trading House

  Jonathan knelt next to a very upset girl whose cheeks were nearly puffed out to bursting.

  "You promised," she said, her eyes boring through him like the judgment of the Endless One himself.

  He looked to his left, looking for support from his wife, but the frown on her face told him he would not get it.

  "Look, Abby, I know we were supposed to go as a family. But this time I have to go by myself. Mama needs your help here." John grimaced as he said it. He knew he was throwing his wife under the cart. However, with her difficult pregnancy, he could not bring Abigail with him, and that meant he would have no one to watch Abby while he was with Amos.

  "I can send a minder with you, John," Abigail said, with the tone that brooked no argument.

  John cringed. He knew this was coming, and he knew who the minder would be. His sister, Sherry, was a spinster and cantankerous. If she were ever invited to noble parties, he was sure she would have been thrown in a dungeon as soon as she opened her mouth. The only person she actually got along with was Abby. The rest of society, she made it her personal mission to bring misery to.

  "Please, Abigail, you are asking me to spend at least a month with my sister. Also, you know the real mission I have. She hates Catherine. How am I supposed to convince Catherine to come back if she has to be in the same place as my sister?"

  "That is something you should have thought about before you got me pregnant. The doctor said I need peace and quiet for this pregnancy. Having both Abby and your sister somewhere else will help. You made your daughter a promise, are you going to break it?"

  "She is going to screw up our relationship with Amos. You saw the cloth. We need that cotton. Even that small amount, we made a fortune on." John said, appealing to her love of money.

  "You don't even know if that cotton came from there?"

  "Amos and I had spoken of cotton the last time I was there. All of a sudden, Catherine has a load of cotton of the best weave I have ever seen a weave only his looms can achieve. No other merchant has seen such fine cotton since then. And we are the main port leading to the capital. It has to be him."

  "You gave your word?" Abigail said, firmly.

  John sighed. He knew she was right, and she knew he would never go back on his word. Maybe if he were really lucky, Amos would chop off sherry’s head for her rudeness or something. The thought made him laugh. Amos was too nice for that, but may the Endless One help North Cove.

  Baron Sophis

  The Baron of Ridgeland sat at a table full of bickering men and women. He was not sure how much longer he could handle dealing with these fools. The idea of overthrowing the current government and creating a council to govern had seemed like a good idea when this venture started. A government with clear rules where all citizens obeyed the same laws. Well, it wasn’t going to be exactly like that. He wasn’t an idealist. But a government where the king and other high nobles couldn’t make up arbitrary rules on a whim would be a goal worth shooting for.

  Unfortunately, he had had to make too many concessions and let the wrong people get involved. They had the wealth and influence he needed, but not the vision.

  Initially, he figured he could weed out the undesirables once they had collapsed the current farce of a kingdom. Now he saw that inviting these people in had been a mistake, and it eroded the foundation of what he was trying to build. Without people like Cythia, Duchess of Kimton, these people would be at each other's throats. She was a wild card herself, but she knew how to get things done.

  "I am telling you. It is absolutely necessary that I take control of Felmis and Rybar. Consolidating them under my governance will bring them into my district, which is closer to Kimton." Count Umlure shouted.

  "And I am telling you that will not happen," Almer said, "It will weaken me. I will not give them up unless my new district includes Vaspar."

  "You know that is not going to happen. We promised Peter Vaspar he could retain control."

  "And what has he done since he has been in control? Nothing. His city is still in an uproar. And he is too incompetent to crush the resistance."

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  Baron Sophis smiled at the thought of what his agents were doing in Vaspar. Young Peter would never get control of Vaspar. He had put him there and he would remove him when the time came. If these fools were patient, Almer would soon have Vaspar under his control. This wasn't the first time he had caused a county to change hands.

  "Patience, there will be time for that during the chaos of the revolution," the duchess said.

  "You have a habit of saying that. As I recall, your contacts were supposed to cause North Cove to collapse, making it easy for my brother to take over. Instead, I get a pigeon saying they killed my friend and his heir. And that cursed boy somehow beat back seven ships full of raiders. How is that even possible?" Baron Devon Yarbeth, son of Count Yarbeth, said.

  "Again. Patience. Your brother is in possession of Bicman, just like you wanted. It will all come in time," the duchess said.

  "Your optimism is comforting, but I find it interesting that the boy keeps slipping through our grasp. The assassins did not succeed, and spies are turning up dead. I feel there may be a traitor in our midst," Count Tresler said, turning to look at Sophis.

  Many turned their looks towards Sophis. He scoffed in response to their accusing eyes. "The boy is an enigma to be sure, but he is not as important as this new government. I was the one who brought this council together. I would not sacrifice the loyalty of any member of this council for a mere boy. You sent the assassins before I convinced you to leave the boy alone. Besides, I also lost spies."

  "How does he have his fingers everywhere? His network of informants must be massive." Almer said.

  "I don't think so?" Sophis said. "In fact, I got a report that the count is looking for those responsible for the deaths of the spies. Now this could be deception on his part, but I doubt it. There is an organization among his people who are working without his oversight, and their objective is to keep him safe. You cannot be ignorant of the reports about how loyal his people are to him. They revered him as a Chosen. There is even a group there that claims he is a demigod."

  "Then can we not charge him with blasphemy?"

  "If he were a commoner, yes, but he is a count. We would have to have proof that he is stirring up the people towards rebellion. And it is quite the contrary. All his speeches encourage loyalty to the crown, and people know that he does not believe he was sent by the Endless One."

  "You say he's loyal to the crown. That will not be good when the time comes." The young Count Tresler said, almost rising to his feet.

  "We have others in the Duchy that are not loyal to the cause. Besides, I have spoken with him. I do not believe he is as loyal to the crown as he claims in his speeches. If people would stop trying to kill him, he might even be persuaded to join with us." The baron's last statement was tinged with annoyance. He wanted that boy more than he would let these people think. He had obtained many of Amos's inventions. The plow, the brush, the abacus, the meter stick, and other measuring instruments; he was even able to have a man sneak a new type of cloth armor across the border.

  "That boy is too much of a risk," Baron Yarbeth said. "I heard he is building a wall to keep people out of Bicman. He is using the excuse of a disease, but no one builds a wall simply because their people might get sick."

  "And now your brother controls Bicman. I do not see the problem." Count Cramler said with disinterest in his voice.

  "The problem is that he has Fredrick Vaspar in my friend's barony. A barony that also could build a wall to keep people out." Baron Yarbeth responded in a rage.

  "We aren't trying to invade the barony," the count continued. "I would just caution your brother not to do anything stupid. I am in agreement with Sophis. The boy is more than he seems, and it would be better to use him than discard him. We will find a way to remove him from North Cove without killing him. We need to get on to more important matters. Duchess, what are the Turabe doing? Have they gathered sufficient troops?"

  King Lenord Asput

  "I don't even know what to make of this," The king said while rubbing his temples. "How is this even possible?"

  The Duke of Falmore just smiled. "By the grace of the Endless One. Why does this trouble you?"

  "Because it makes no sense. The count sends me a message saying that the Rabiss were beaten back and that he will be sending a full report later. He even provided a cipher as if this were to be top secret. Then I get a message from Commander Betlin with the news that he was bringing the full report. The Commander also mentioned that the count claimed to have destroyed an army of almost 700 men."

  "He did lose the village of Oceanside."

  The king snorted, "A fishing village. He lost a fishing village, Norris. and it wasn't even in the lands he was protecting. He is wasted on the far reaches of our Kingdom. I almost wish he had fled here when the Rabiss came."

  "And yet if he had done that, he would not be such a grand catch. His success is your success. Your enemies would have used this against you. They would have mocked you for allowing raiders to decimate not just a village but an entire county. He is a hero. And don't forget about the plow."

  The king gave a small chuckle at that. "You know, after the barons found out about how well it worked, they have been having their smiths work day and night to produce them. If we had only made more of them to start with, we could probably reclaim every cent we have spent on the war just from the proceeds. Then there is the crossbow. People are praising my name for things I had nothing to do with. How do I even reward the boy for such a thing?"

  "We need to tie him to us, of course," Norris said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

  "Marriage? No matter his deeds, there is a great difference between some faraway count and those with actual influence, clamoring to marry royalty. The nobility just wouldn't understand the gesture."

  "Nothing so close to the line. I could look for one of my cousins' daughters?"

  "Fine, but give him someone with a decent disposition and a pretty face. I don't want this to turn into a fiasco and have him cursing me for the rest of his life. Also, no one too old or too young; she needs to be at least sixteen. I need someone with a head on her shoulders who can guide him towards deeper loyalty."

  "Don't worry, Leonard, I will find the right one. I..." Norris paused and smiled. "What about Erica?"

  "Erica?"

  "You know Herron's granddaughter."

  "That's a little too close, don't you think. Nobody would accept that. I won't accept that."

  "You don't remember her, do you?" Norris said.

  The king thought for a moment before his eyes went wide. "Oh... Oh... Hmmm, Noris, do you not remember I told you I didn't want him cursing me?"

  The duke rolled his eyes, "Come now, nephew, you don't believe the gossip mongers?"

  "It isn't about whether I believe it or not. What is he going to think when he finds out?"

  "It's perfect. He will have a close enough tie to protect him, and the other nobles aren't going to balk at it due to her situation. She is everything we need. I will send him a letter inviting him to the castle and informing him we have found him a bride.”

  "Very well. We will truly have to pray to the Endless One that this works out for both of them. And don't do anything until you convince my brother. I doubt he will be happy giving his granddaughter away to an obscure count. No matter what her situation is."

  Arkorum of Turabe

  Arkorum entered the king's chambers and bowed deeply. The man sat lounging on his dais with two women by his side. Gifts from the Priests of the Endless One. "My King, I have disturbing news."

  King Caraman rolled his eyes. "And you thought now would be a good time to share it."

  "It is urgent, Caraman. The Falmoren are pushing more quickly than we thought towards Hitub's last stronghold. I estimate there may be nothing left of Hitub within a month."

  "How is that even possible? You were supposed to delay them." The king said, the two women fleeing the dais as he rose to his feet, "You assured me that we had at least a year."

  "Forgive me, my king," Arkorum said while bowing his head and putting both thumbs against his temples in a sign of submission. "The Falmorens have brought a new weapon to the battle. It shoots projectiles more accurately than a bow. There is currently no strategy in place for countering such a weapon. And I fear that by the time we have one, they will have secured Sherik."

  "We move up our time scale, then. We cannot let them get comfortable with this new weapon."

  "Not all the pieces are in place. The southern kingdoms have not gathered their troops, and not all our troops have gone through the pass. We will only be able to flank them with half the forces."

  "Half our forces are still plenty. We have their stirrups, and soon we will have these new weapons. We will crush them under the weight of our army and strip their weapons from the corpses of the dead. Then we will swallow the rest of their country as a bird gobbling up insects. They should never have reached so far. The Endless One favors the strong, and the weak have no place at his table."

  Light dawned in Arkorum's eyes. “You are not stopping with the vessel kingdoms? What of your agreement with the council?”

  “This is the second time our partners have failed us, first with the stirrups and now with this new weapon. They have sought to take advantage by withholding knowledge. They apparently wanted to renegotiate. They will pay in blood for their hubris. Call forth the priests. Have them start the sacrifices. The women shall dance tonight and call down the powers of the Endless One. Let the blood of the unworthy flow like rivers."

  End of Book 3

  Get ready for Book 4: Sage of the North