The next three days were a mixture of experimental bliss and grunge work moving the pits. Giving the additional duties to my pupil and assistants worked out perfectly in allotting me more time to pursue my own interests. The wolves being subject to two earth elementals’ mana infusion were doing well in that they seemed to be adopting traits of an earth subtype. Not completely yet, but I saw the beginnings of it. The wolves under only one elemental mana infusion didn’t show any change as of yet unless you counted that they were dirtier. I had to spray them with a water spell to ensure it wasn’t a true change. Neither the snakes nor the boars were showing any change, though the boars were breeding faster than I expected.

It was on the morning of the third day, during breakfast, that disaster struck. I had noticed there was no bread served last night, which was fine. Not all meals required bread. But when none came with breakfast either, I needed to investigate. It was there in the pantry that I heard the bad news. I’d just found the hardtack and a bag of four moldy biscuits, but no other sign of bread, when Chelsea interrupted my search.

“Can I help you, m’lord?” She asked while wringing her hands.

“Yes,” I said, the bag of moldy biscuits in hand, “Is there a reason no bread was served this morning?”

I didn’t add any inflection to my tone of voice, nor held any manner of expression to indicate I was upset, but she still turned her face as if struck, “M’lord, the eggs went bad yesterday. I have more coming with the merchant, but I’m sorry…” she answered me, and then proceeded to continue to yammer on as if the addition of extra words would somehow soften her answer.

But no eggs? Which means no more bread? That! That—That was just unacceptable! I understood that by segregating myself from real society, the dividing of my home from the culture that would support it that I would need to forgo some of the finer examples of human culture. But this? I had a great baker living with me, and she hadn’t the means to bake! This was a tragedy unfolding before my eyes.

“—and eggs just don’t keep in the spring and summer like they do during the winter, the cold it—”

Somehow her words struck me out of my own mental rant. Of course, cold keeps food fresher longer. Why have I done nothing about that yet? I’m a great wizard with the power of the very elements at my fingertips! I stormed away with the intent to take action at that very moment, disregarding Tond who was standing nearby as if he had something important to tell me.

There, halfway down the stairwell to the dungeon, I built a cellar. The ground here was cool enough that it should suffice, and I only spent an hour making it. The problem wasn’t solved, we still needed eggs, but I hoped this would prevent such a thing from occurring again. I almost considered draining a part of the bog for a farmer so that we would have a closer supply, but that may be taking things a little too far. Farmers, they tended to breed quickly and spread out in unexpected ways all across the land. Better to keep them in one area, because if I allowed the first, the second was only months away.

I knew I had overreacted, and treated it in a silly manner, but she was a surprisingly good baker. Perhaps too many sessions with Lilly had infected me with some of her youthful exuberance. When I returned to the kitchen and found Chelsea, I informed her of the new cellar then volunteered Walker or Lilly to show her the way when they returned. They would surely see the room on the way up. Tond was standing at my side when I finished.

“Boss, you have a guest out front by the gate. Fancy-looking man. Says he knows ya from the capital,” were his words, though his eyes never left the blushing Chelsea.

I left them to discuss the greater details of absolutely nothing important and departed for the gate to see who had arrived. In front of my shining bronze gates, casually chatting with Mena who stood on the other side, was a man I didn’t recognize at all. But I recognized the coat of arms painted on his shield. Behind him was a carriage, of the same style I rode in, but with the same coat of arms painted on the side. Four fine black horses were attached to the front, and several boxes were tied to the top. Next to him, a Scout [Ranger] sat proudly on his horse with a lumpy bag stuffed with Asrid Flowers clear on his back, the little leaves sticking out from the opening.

My two new visitors snapped me a salute as I approached, one which I only half-heartedly returned. Mena opened the gate for me with a very professional bow, and I would need to compliment her on it later. The nobleman turned to nod at the scout who walked his horse forward offering up the bag of tea flowers. Mena took it on my behalf, without me having to gesture, another thing to compliment her on. I don’t know if she was looking for extra pay or a day off, but I began to suspect as much.

“Hero Fargus, the commander sends his regards. Our last scout to pass this way passed along the message that you may have beasts trapped from the wave for sale. Might I inquire as to the type?” The man inquired with a formal tone to his voice.

I nodded and waved dismissively to my right, “Yes, yes. They’re over there in the pits. You may go look for yourself.” I had no interest in haggling with the man at the moment, rather my eyes were set on my other visitor.

House Shielding. In a battle more than a hundred years past, I accidentally saved the young son of an Alderman [Knight] when I slew the man about to kill him. The youth was barely fifteen at the time, but his father was in no shape to battle and sent him forth. In some misguided sense of honor, that young man swore an oath that one day his house would return the favor. Such things happen now and then during battles, and I thought nothing of it at the time, but years later when I returned to my home in Sena City, I found his father sold his lands and moved his entire household to try to meet the oath.

I wanted nothing to do with the matter, of course. I still don’t. Instead of allowing their service, which would have placed an Alderman beneath me when I had no title to support it, I simply ignored the matter. Later, the family joined the city guard as officers, and somewhere along their lineage married up into a Baron title. Then, once a decade or so, some second son or cousin would come by the Arcanum to try to serve me, and I’d need to find reasons to dismiss their request. It was one of the many reasons I only spoke to a few people about my departure from Sena City.

Only now, I had my own guards and a title. With a deep dissatisfaction, I took in the man’s appearance. Tall, muscular though with the mannerism of a court noble. Sandy hair and brown eyes, he would have been more handsome if not for the nose he’d inherited. It was a smushed upturned thing that allowed one to see all the hairs inside the nostril clearly, one of the features the nobility was proud to bear. He bowed to one knee, gracefully crossing an arm across his chest.

“Great Nemon Farcus, savior of House Shield. I, Baron Wilchrest, do so swear to—” He began, his tone officious.

“Wait, did you say Baron?” I asked, not bothering to keep the smile from my lips.

“Yes, savior, I did. My father wed a Countess five summers ago, and was raised into the title,” He answered, surprised that I interrupted his oath of service. But to me, this was great news.

“Ah, then we are at a bit of an impasse,” I said, borrowing the word from the leader of the Bents, though I used it more accurately.

“An impasse?” he asked, blinking his eyes in confusion.

“Indeed. You see, Baroness Lark recently appointed me the title of Alderman. What would it say about my liege, if I had another Baron serving beneath me?” I glanced at his hand, looking for a ring.

“I—I see,” he said, though it was clear he didn’t.

“Are you wed, Baron?” I asked, ignoring how my guard Mena turned away. A few weeks together, and she knew enough about me to see where I was headed with my question.

“No, savior, I am not,” he answered hesitantly. Or maybe suspiciously.

“Good. Neither is she. If you wish to serve me, you can do so best by immediately returning to the town of Lark and courting her.”

“What? But, savior, that is not—” The blond man began to protest, his pig-like nostrils flaring.

“Who are you to decide the matter? Did you not come to swear service to me? This is how I want you to serve,” I said, ending the conversation, but then I stopped right as I passed through the gates.

“Oh, and Baron?” I called to him from over my shoulder.

“Savior?” He asked, still kneeling on the ground in confusion.

“If you return to me to tell me that you failed in your quest, you best bring eggs with you,” I informed him.

“Eggs?” I heard him whisper to himself as I walked away. Mena followed behind me, though she was biting her knuckle to keep from laughing.

When we entered the tower, I breathed a sigh of relief.

Behind me, Mena said between fits of giggles, “Boss, you’re a great boss.”

I frowned a little. That's right. She wanted something.