The day that a bedraggled, saddlesore, and exhausted Greyson plodded into town with his young daughter Mila and a horse that was ready to give out, Jason was in the workshop with Otto and his two sons attempting to work through issues with pipe production.

Tyler had made it his policy that each of the two roads going into the town would have one of his Doughboys acting as a sentry and a light guard at the edge of town when the unit wasn’t training during the morning. The young man on duty quickly brought the refugees to Tyler, who took them towards the bakery and sent the guard to find Jason.

“I’m sorry to ask this,” Tyler inquired again, “but you’re sure they’re headed this way?”

“They were soldiers of Silverguard,” Greyson managed to mumble around the hot loaf of bread currently occupying his mouth. He helped his young child to take a sip of the stew that Phipp placed in front of them.

“You poor, sweet little thing,” the large baker crooned over the girl. “You need a cinnamon roll,” he stated firmly as he walked back towards the kitchen. “I’ll be right back.”

Jason burst through the front door, breathing hard and clearly having run across half the town. “What’s the news?”

Tyler filled him in as Phipp bustled back in and did his best to cheer up the road-weary girl in the language he knew best - food.

“Over a hundred soldiers, maybe as many as two hundred, are headed through these lands, claiming them for the city of Silverguard. This man, Greyson, didn’t catch much other than the murder of his wife and the hamlet going up in flames.

“He’s trying to get to Brighton, where our caravan originated, and ask their city council for justice. You know how politics work there, though - they haven’t had a decisive thought in their so-called Noble Council of Seven since the old king passed without heir and they decided they wouldn’t appoint another.

“They’ll bicker and debate, and if they do decide to draft an army and send their knights, we’ll be long dead or conquered.”

“How long do we have?” Jason asked both Tyler and the man, who had finished using his bread to mop up the rest of his stew.

“It took me seven days to reach here, my lord,” Greyson spoke up. “We rode hard when we could, but only had one horse and had to rest it frequently. We passed through three towns on the way here that I assume will get the same delicate treatment we did,” he said in distaste and looked around for a place to spit, then thought better of it.

Tyler filled in the rest for Jason as best he could. “I’d assume we have ten days before they arrive, but I wouldn’t stake my life on it if I didn’t have to. Armies move much slower than he was able to, generally speaking, even smaller units like theirs. It might actually be a few more days if they slow down further to take control or thoroughly pillage the towns between us.”

“And we’re sure they’re coming all the way here?”

“Well, it’s hard to be sure of anything in war, my lord - and that’s what this is if we decide to put up any semblance of a fight - but I can’t imagine their ruler will settle for anything less than control of what we currently call the unclaimed lands. As you know, the settlements out here are unaffiliated with any city or other power, which is what allowed you to essentially buy this town from the merchants that supported the settlement’s initial development. That was what the original settlers signed in their contract, and what our caravan knew as well. You are the lord, king, whatever you want to call yourself unless some stronger man comes with an army and says you aren’t.

“Normally, the tension between Silverguard and Brighton would prevent anyone in these lands from abusing their citizens and their contracts too much, or it might give them an excuse to come in and take over to make things right. And neither city wants the other to do that. But now the balance is broken.

“I have no doubt Brighton will eventually come and try to push Silverguard back and turn this whole area into a warzone. But it would be much, much too late for us.”

Jason noticed that the girl hadn’t said anything in the whole time he had been there. “Is she okay?” He immediately regretted it when he saw the pained look on Greyson’s face. Idiot. That was a dumb question, Jason berated himself. Of course she’s not.

Greyson swallowed the lump in his throat and said, “I had to tell her we couldn’t see mommy. That was all she asked about the first day.” An unwiped tear slid down his cheek. “And now, she doesn’t ask for anything.”

There’s nothing you can do for her mother, Jason told himself as he tried, unsuccessfully, to stop himself from wiping his own eyes. But there are a lot of families right here counting on you to make the right choice and to keep them safe. How are you going to do that?

---

Greyson decided to rest for the remainder of the day and the night before heading on to the (hopefully) much friendlier Brighton. Jason, Alex, Tyler, and Phipp discussed what needed to be done to save their growing town.

“We could always just leave. Things are replaceable, people aren’t,” Alex advocated. “Just pack up everything we can and head back to Brighton. We’ll be dirt poor but alive.”

Phipp was of another opinion, vehemently. “There’s not a single family that hasn’t put their blood, sweat, and tears into this place. This is home. You don’t just give up what you made without a fight. Besides, it’s one thing to say ‘we’ll be poor’ and another to starve this next winter or the winter after that.

“I know a few families headed out here for a fresh start because they had trouble in Brighton - either a noble family wanted to force their daughter into a marriage she didn’t want, or they had bad business dealings where rivals blacklisted them in the guilds.”

“Yeah,” Alex turned somber at that argument. “I understand that.”

“We can’t risk everyone’s lives,” Jason finally spoke up. “But maybe we don’t have to.”

“Send some people away?” Tyler asked him. “Maybe send non-fighting family members away a bit in advance of when they’d get here?”

“We’d have to be confident in our scouts, but yes. Send them off either in the direction of Brighton or into the forest or mountains where they won’t be found. Have only those who need to be here remain.”

“So fewer people die immediately,” Alex said drily. “I still haven’t heard anyone say that we can actually win.”

“I have some ideas,” Jason replied. “Some desperate ideas that just might work.”

“You’re right, there’s no way our thirteen inexperienced guards can go toe-to-toe with a group of professional fighters that’s at least several times their size. But maybe we can give them a force multiplier, just temporarily.”