Charis didn’t suffer to wait to break her fast, at first light she found the Baron Nominate. Rounded up by Charis didn’t offend him, he was conscious of the rescue this strange girl performed and appreciated the death of his brother beyond grief. The lesson well learnt about strangers influencing beyond considered the normal.

“Recover his body, Baron. Have a servant assigned to the task as I watch and witness the task. Is the person who buried him still alive and in the village?”

“I will send you a servant now, Charis. I am sorry for your loss. He was a brave and loyal man.”

As he watched the short, slim body encased in leather armour determinedly stride away, he remembered the former Castellan, the former Captain of the Guard and many others and wondered where they are now. Could they be convinced to return?

A slim petite hand then reached around his waist and as he gazed back over his shoulder he smiled, he couldn’t help himself, she being a light to his dark. Her embrace complete, her head resting between his shoulder blades, respectively silent until the warmth of his hands enclosed hers.

“I suspect the demesne will be secured when its Baron has an heir.”

He was surprised last night when she insisted upon sleeping in his room; after all, betrothed, was not married. Her voice silky, warm, and inviting left no doubt in his mind to her intended purpose this morning.

“I agree my lady. Wouldn’t you and your child feel more secure if we were married first?”

The betrothed, unseen by her Lord, pauses to think before answering. She distracts him by exploring his chest with her fingers and rubbing her face into his muscular back causing him to squirm slightly.

“My fate has been determined by the Duchess, my travel with Charis and her sisters enlightening and my commitment to this union unshakeable my Lord. My first duty is an heir and we cannot wait for ceremony.”

“Enlightening you say?”

She playfully slapped his chest and he responded by reaching around himself and gently bringing her to face him, well she needed to peer up and he needed to gaze down so their faces met.

“They do lay with each other, but they are passionate in their lovemaking, fierce in their loyalty to Charis and she still wallows in grief over the death of your brother. So my Lord I expect greatness from the older brother, given his younger can reach from beyond his death to affect Charis the Young.”

Her body rose, her toes extending until the last moment as he picked his rose up off the stone floor of the Keep until level with him and sweetly kissed her, she returning his passion freely and wantonly. He held her to him hastily returning to his bedchamber.

“Do they talk during their lovemaking? Charis and her sisters and perhaps…”

“I admit Lord I was naked once before them and I am certain if invited they would have been interested. It was but a test, after all who would be more critical of a naked female body than another female. Therefore, I have a confidence in my body to attract. They talk to make sure they are thoughtful and exactly in attending to the pleasure of their partner, so it is your turn to talk to me Lord.”

She felt a slight squeeze around her waist.

“Every time my Lady?”

“No Lord. After we have become well acquainted we only need to check once in a while so we have more time to delight each other.”

They both fell onto the generous canopy bed, her on top of him.

---

Charis waited pacing around her father’s grave and eventually squatted, as it seemed the servant assigned to help did not show the same importance to this duty as her. Perhaps there was another delay. She heard a clumsy attempt at stealth and turned to meet the sneak.

“Sorry mistress, I heard a rumour about strangers, I did. Someone said it was the Blacksmith’s daughter and she was back. She was well and deadly, killed the Castellan with one spear thrust!”

“You will have to tell the rumour mongers that my warrior-sister Dione slew him, but you pick on one of us you pick on all of us,” she finished, with a hunter’s smile.

“I am an old man, so I hope you don’t harm me. I have come to tell you a secret, before anyone sees us. Your father’s good friend the farmer and his boy, yes his boy needed to help him, your father was a huge man; he was. They dug him up and carried him back to their farm. Then in one of the grandest pyres at the time, with true friends as witness they burned him to release his soul from the dirt to the sun. They say they needed a large pyre to ensure the dirt was burnt off so he could go in the way he always said he would.”

Charis couldn’t stop herself she hugged the old man. Frightened of being crushed he struggled for release.

“Thank you old man and who is buried here?”

“No one I should think, but it could be worth a look just the same.” he smiled and cackled as he laughed and wandered off.

Within a bell a servant appeared. He wasn’t pleased to be here, although once Charis introduced herself and her scowl he doffed his cap and swung his shovel into action. The two long daggers hanging from her belt also motivated him. After all, the rumour was she slew the castellan because of a disrespectful sideway glance and the Baron was scare to hold her to account!

The servant finally hit wood. He toiled without much rest and while exhausted he feared to stop. He glanced at his taskmaster first. Charis helped him out of the re-dug grave and once again assisted, this time to remove the final shovelfuls of grave dirt.

“It doesn’t look like a coffin, miss, begging your pardon.”

“Thank you, please ask my warrior-sisters to join me here.” She tossed him a couple of coins. He was very energetic scampering off. Coin was scarce it seemed in this part of the Duchy, although there could have been other motivations in play.

A chest, not the expected coffin, wonder of wonders, she knew his daughter was meant to find it and no other. Charis continued to stare at it and didn’t wonder any longer, she realised he would make sure he was never buried for long and his grave would leave worldly possessions. She learnt everything from him, so it was obvious he would have prepared as well. If the required preparation weren’t required due to his death, Charis would have celebrated the deception.

Dione and Helice appeared in good time and were surprised at what they saw.

“Mistress, I have spent time in my sister’s chambers and she wrote much about her time here. The scrolls hidden, but we shared much so I knew where to look. They may be of assistance in piecing this mystery together.”

“And I have every items and I mean every item the Castellan held in his body,” Dione said as she patted a leather pouch on her hip.

“Thank you sisters, can I ask for your help to lift this chest out of my father’s grave? Can we then carry it to your sister’s room Helice to open it?”

“Certainly Mistress, my sister was sent correctly due to your father’s intervention, she and I would welcome the chance to help.”

“Mistress I will summon my stallion to help. If we can dig around it I will rope it ready for him to drag it out.”

---

With the stallion’s assistance, they extracted the chest from the grave. Charis with help backfilled the grave, although when finished still sunken, restored as best she could. The chest conveyed to the Keep by lifting it upon his saddle, Charis and Helice holding it while Dione horse whispered to her stallion. Once off the stallion and in the Keep the heavy chest took most of the morning for the warrior-sisters to lug it up to Seer’s room. They needed to grab a rest and managed to laugh at themselves in spite of their tiredness.

No lock on the chest, as no one would be searching for it in a grave, except one who might be interested in seeing her father properly sent by burning. Charis slowly, reverently opened it; she couldn’t imagine what her father would prepare for her.

She removed her mother’s dress, the second of the two she owned and placed it upon the Seer’s bed. Her feelings mixed, ranging from burning it, throwing it out of the window or hang onto it and cry over it, a mother she barely knew.

She removed her father’s Blacksmith Apron and his hammer. These took more will. These two items represented him, her father, his trade, and their love. This apron wasn’t his shop apron; this apron was the one he stretched across a bed frame when she outgrew her cot, as she grew taller. The hammer his Master of his Trade award of craft. By accident or design, the apron and hammer completely covered the dress on the Seer’s bed. Next, were the ownership papers of his shop and the cottage above it? She placed them under the Hammer.

Then in two large bags, were many finely crafted arrowheads, she smiled at the gift; he knew where her skill lay. A small bag of silver coins, almost certainly his life savings, as she tied the bag, she slowed and placed it carefully beside the chest.

The next was unexpected. It was leather armour, for a slim tall person, for sure. It would not fit her, therefore not intended for her and as she lifted it, parchment slid out. She also noticed the armour was rent by huge slashes, done at some time in its past.

“While I was the father you knew, I was not the father of your birth. Your mother came to me pregnant, desperate for help from the mountains. I claimed your mother in marriage and we grew into a love of salvation, hers from grief and mine from loneliness and we both loved you fiercely.

As you grew your mother could no longer hide your odd ears and the village started to talk and there were rumours. So she made the ultimate sacrifice, she pretended in a fit of madness to cut your ears and then she left and the village talk turned upon her, the mad one. She told me she was determined to find her one true love’s family, but I knew it was to die on the mountain wishing and longing for him for she did not, could not forget him. Your mother loved you do not ever doubt that truth.

What I leave is my material possessions and you’re past, I hope they are insignificant to the skills and words of wisdom that I taught you that will see you embrace and thrive in your life yet to be discovered. Do not mourn for me, I lived as well as any man could expect to and I am certain I will die doing what is right. Since you are reading this you can be my judge.

Father.

Dione and Helice embraced her as she slid to the floor. They missed the middle of the day meal as Charis re-read the note repeatedly. They consoled her.

“Charis, I didn’t tell you earlier, but your father’s letter was written by my sister, so I suspect they at least knew each other if not friends then certainly in trust, given the letter,” Helice said.

“The Barony was never prosperous, especially the last few years, now it is desperate in the space of months. The Castellan is one part I fear. I imagine we will be needed here for a while yet,” Charis replied.

“I appreciate more now, the time I trained using these daggers,” as she placed both hands on both of them and narrowed her eyes,” I look forward to using them for revenge.”

“While you plot revenge I must re-visit my past and see the Baron.” The dull sadness in her voice didn’t escape Helice and Dione who both glanced at each other.

“I will manage. You can follow me if you wish, but do not enter his chamber no matter what.”

The Baron’s chamber wasn’t far and with care and caution, Charis opens the door to his chamber and is surprised to see his head turn towards her. His voice extremely frail and cracked; his strength of the recent past now lost to him, he still quietly spoke to her.

“I have wasted away in this bed for many days and thought over every detail and what makes me sad is that I am not sure what could have been done to change what has become of us all so please talk to me and between the two of us maybe we can make sense of it.”

Charis eased her way into the chamber until she was beside his bed making use of a stool, waiting ready beside his bed.

“Upon seeing you again, my stomach knotted up, I didn’t know what to say to you or do. It has always been my one wish to return to that day and choose differently.”

She reached for the Baron’s hand with her own and prepared herself to talk to him, trying to maintain her composure, she needed to chronicle every moment of his youngest son’s last day. She wanted every detail told complete honesty so he knew she loved his son like an older brother. Her grief true and real. Charis also willed him well, with every fibre of her being; she sensed by early afternoon her magic exhausted, although no items warmed with their use. She owed him, she needed to repay him as best she could and she would return tomorrow if she needed to as the magic exhausted quickly around him, was his hurt and injury that deep?

At a knock on the Baron’s door, Charis got up from the Baron’s bed and answered. A servant presented calling Charis and her companions to the evening meal in the Main Hall. With the Baron now asleep, he did have the good grace to allow her to finish talking first so Charis could do no more. Charis quickly left, gathering Dione and Helice with her following the servant.

The Baron Nominate and his bride, settled to dine at the main table. The commander and the warrior-sisters took a seat each at the lower table. The one servant and cook served the main table first as fit their station and then the lower table. Charis thought the separation awkward and didn’t unite everyone, which would be needed going forward, so she spoke her mind.

“Baron Nominate Balius, I would like to suggest that as we are all going to be needed to restore the Barony to health it may start with us all dining at the one table.”

The bride to be was annoyed; after all, she was finally, where she should be. The Baron Nominate was considering some negotiation would be wise and worked out a compromise.

“Yes, I believe you are right.”

After some awkwardness and fuss from the bride to be, the seating arrangements changed, with the High Chairs seated at the lower table, the Baron Nominate at the northern end and the bride to be at the southern end. The commander was on the Baron Nominates right, the warrior-sisters seated on the Baron Nominates left. The high table left lonely and abandoned.

As the Baron Nominate was finishing his meagre meal, another guest emerged.

“Well son, I am barely in the grave and you usurp me,” the Baron cheerfully yelled.

“Father, you walk, how?” He hurried to him to offer his support.

“I am well enough; I just need to walk at a slow pace. I made it down the stairs didn’t I?”

“Cook,” the Baron called out. “A plate for the Baron please.”

The cook almost dropped it, assuming the plate was for the son, never expecting the father. She shed a tear as she bowed and then set a place for him; his son invited him to the High Chair.

“No son, you are the Baron now and although better, I cannot see myself rise to that lofty post again so if there is still an opening, could you appoint me your Castellan?”

“I am honoured father. As my first official duty, I am pleased to appoint you as the Barony’s Castellan. Please take your seat beside the Commander if you will.”

“We probably have need of a Priest right about now. We have a Baron to declare, we have a bride to wed, and we need some healthy spiritual guidance to reclaim lands taken by evil,” the Castellan stated.

Charis glanced at Helice who returned an affirmative nod.

“Lord Baron we believe we need to rally the village and nearby farms and show the Barony is under new energetic leadership. It is the people outside this hall who need to be convinced in hope of a future,” Charis said all the while surprised at the Baron’s recovery. It exhausted her magic much more quickly than it should, so perhaps that was the explanation.

“Yes, definitely, although you do realise the warrior-sisters are the sole effective fighting force in the Barony at this present moment. We have some men at arms, but they would get lost if they patrolled beyond the Keep. The Commander is doing his best, but the basic material requires more endeavour shall we say. So if this is acceptable I will appoint the warrior-sisters Sheriffs and Constables of the Barony of Lonely Keep and request you survey the Barony and report on its condition and announce your positions.”

“Lord Baron we accept your appointment and we accept your first request upon us,” Charis answered.

+++

They broke their fast on their own rations as the warrior-sisters prepared to leave early at first light. They armed and armoured to impress and to be prepared. Charis started with the Village Green to announce their arrival and their position. The timid folk eventually, out of curiosity if for no other reason approached the Village Green and when enough gathered Charis made an official announcement. A few asked where they were from and why were they here to help. The best answer seemed to be they were Daughters of the Duchess appointed to help and for some reason the seals on the pins convinced any doubters, probably due to their actual coin value not the actual seals themselves! Charis promoted them to clasp the cloaks so they were front and centre.

They then rode towards the farms in the mountains and crossed many small streams and as they cross each one Charis remembered her flight from the Keep with her father. The farms looked untouched by any troubles, unlike the southern farms; the crops grew well near ready for harvest. This harvest at least offered some hope; they could make the difference between possible and impossible for the Barony to survive. The grain would not produce a large abundance; the grain being produce by these farms could be enough to stop most people starving though.

Initially the farmers hid, as the warrior-sisters approached their farmsteads fearful they would confiscate the meagre food supplies they held until harvest. Word spread from the village quickly enough letting them know about the Daughters of the Duchess. With the word out, the warrior-sisters managed to talk to some farmers in their travels. They made it plain the farmers needed to supply their required harvest obligation and no more. When they announced the former Castellan was now dead and replaced by the former Baron they became more agreeable and noticeably relieved.

Charis rode a farmer’s trail, which crossed a stream at a shallow ford. Once across the stream Charis adjusted her position in her saddle, hesitating. Helice and Dione rode up next to her.

“Do you require rest Mistress?” Helice asked.

Charis was distracted, deep in thought, recalling memories of herself on a wagon beside her father, night approaching and at great personal risk his farmer friend driving the wagon to help her escape.

“I recall being a scared child with her father on a wagon escaping grief and tragedy leaving behind the only home and only family she ever knew. This trail leads to the cottage of the farmer who drove the wagon. We have discovered grief and sadness, Helice’s sister, the Baron and the Baroness, my father. I would like to discover before I visit if before me lies grief or celebration.”

Dione reached across to Charis, gently patting her thigh.

“We are with you Mistress, whatever lies ahead.”

“Be brave Mistress, it is better to know. I can heal now knowing my sister is now with the Goddess and I can sharpen my daggers to slay all responsible and those who would do the same to others,” sent Helice.

Charis spurred her horse to a trot, quick and direct, less time to dwell on the possible futures.

Middle of the Day, she gathered strength from the sun, the warmth on her skin comforting. The farmer, his wife and their son waited for her, standing in a line in front of their cottage. The cottage was large and well made, Charis seeing it for the first time in daylight. Beside it was a sizable barn and beyond it a pigsty.

“There will be far enough,” the farmer called out.

Charis pulled up her horse glanced at both Helice and Dione and then easily slipped from the saddle handing the reins to Dione.

“Can I approach to introduce myself and our purpose? We act on behalf of the Baron.”

“Leave your daggers with your friends first.”

Charis spun around handing her daggers to Helice and then strode towards the farmer.

“You should be taller if you were the one who killed the Castellan for a start.”

“That particular honour belongs to the rider on my left, not me.”

“She? Or is the rider a young boy? Either way, smaller than you, how?” the farmer said.

“We are all female and fortunately for us men keep underestimating us.”

His wife and son smiled, while he let out a spontaneous belly laugh.

“So, who are we speaking with and under what authority do you act?”

“You know me already sir, I am Charis the Young, Daughter of the Duchess, once the daughter of the Blacksmith of Lonely Keep, now returned. We are commission by the Baron Nominate to survey the land announce our duty and determine if the farms will yield enough grain to support the Barony.” Charis slowly pulled back the hood of her cloak to reveal her face.

“We heard the rumour of your return. We knew the daughter of the Blacksmith well and you young Lady appear alike, you fail though as you have black hair. What say you?”

Charis grinned. He doubts, although he doesn’t dismiss, he so reminds her of her father.

“I would ask your wife to approach, while I kneel before her and she checks some details to prove I am who I say I am. Acceptable?”

“Is it wise Mistress you will be completely vulnerable and Dione and I are too far away for anything except revenge?”

Charis hand signalled Helice and Dione to stand down, while observing the farmer who glanced at his wife.

“Kneel and my wife will approach.”

Charis kneeled and waited, twenty or thirty heartbeats and the farmer’s wife was standing in front of her.

“Check my ears.” Charis whispered.

“Oh! I remember them. Your hair colour, what happened?”

“This is our secret. I know most remember the Blacksmith’s daughter hair colour. They would accept my new hair colour as it is normal, forgetting my past. If you search the roots of my black hair, you should find my natural hair colour growing to replace it. It is tedious to colour it, necessary though.”

The farmer’s wife fingers danced through Charis hair and once satisfied she stepped back.

“It is you my dear, I am so glad. We didn’t know, neither did your father. His daughter sent into the world to fend for herself and now returned so strong and so confident. He would be proud.”

Charis stood and hugged her. Helice and Dione dismounted and then led the three horses towards Charis. The farmer and his son joined in the hug.

“You have changed your name to Charis the Young?” the farmer asked.

“You would imagine changing your name would be difficult. It is remarkably easy if you don’t claim any privilege with it. So I have adopted an ancient name and as my Daughters swear fealty I rename them as well. It was an accident on the trail to Hillperch when I needed to talk to a Magistrate of Judge.”

At the mention of the Magistrate, the farmer blanched although no reaction to the name changes.

“Your father, may he sit beside Judge, surmised you would change your name, he also thought you would shorten your hair and always where a hat, although your solution is better I think. How did you become brave enough to lie to a Priest of Judge?”

“Oh he knew it was a lie but by the time he decided to act we became useful to him and he has overlooked our renaming ever since. It took more effort to convince the Baron my new name and appearance was worth keeping, even so I assume servants will gossip.”

“Most who knew you would not recognise you as you are, they only remember your hair if anything. Some are dead, some have left the Barony, and any who remain face down when they are out and about as they have been trained by the former Castellan to humility. If it is a secret your name is safe with us.”

Charis hugged him and his wife and then turned to mount her horse.

“I must continue to spread the word regarding our appointment and our mission. I thank your family, your son is particularly brave, and I am glad he returned home to you. I thank you both for the pyre for my father and the chest in his grave, it contained many memories.”

They mumbled thanks and recognition in reply and waved as the three riders rode off, leaving their farm to ride on to the next.

The farmer grabs his wife in one arm and his son in the other.

“Who would have thought a scared and frightened girl would return as neither.”

---

Charis, Dione, and Helice rode south, down from the mountain highland areas and towards the small amount of land between the Keep and the Forest farmed. The land was the enemy here; the soil wasn’t entirely suitable for farming it seemed. Charis eyed the forest as they made camp for the night. She warned her warrior-sisters to be watchful. The night passed without incident, although at the morning shift change Helice was able to update Charis with some news.

“Mistress, it seems all in Hillperch know we serve the Duchess and our name Daughters of the Duchess is on most people’s lips! We are huge news, famous maybe.”

“Let us hope it helps us as much as it helps the Duke and the Duchess to claim our deeds as theirs.”

“Mistress, you think that was their reason?”

“Well, consider we cost them near nothing, perhaps a favour now and again and we have proven we help people and don’t kill or rob people and now they can claim any good deeds we do as theirs.”

“So why did we agree Mistress?”

“They are the Duke and Duchess and better to have them steal some reputation than our lives plus it will certainly keep a certain Lord from threatening us, or more likely me again.”

“Makes sense Mistress. We have also been able to raise the Loan now. The new Master Carpenter is now building the Mistress Leatherworker’s Shop for her and us,” Helice finished.

+++

They rode south once they broke their fast. Fearful families worked these farms, the working farms thinned the further they travelled from the Keep. Once passed the stream they initially crossed on their way to the Lonely Keep no working farms existed, the land left fallow, not even crops trying to grow.

The southern farms claimed the best soil, with so many abandoned, the loss of harvest from these made life tenuous instead of easy and carefree. The campaign to destroy them completed on the southern side of the stream. On the side closest to the Keep the desolation began, the occasional farm bare of any crops; a few more abandoned with some green shoots, most still reasonably productive. The most productive farms of all being close to the Keep or close to the trail leading out of the Barony, these seemed untouched by the calamity.

They followed the trail back to the Barony and quickly caught up to the dust trail left by a large caravan. They rode to the head of it and met many familiar and many more unfamiliar faces. Most importantly, they noted the food supplies the wagons carried to the slowly starving Barony, including much livestock. Astera and Thyia were out front, Otonia they picked up as they rode to the front.

“You made good time sisters. I didn’t expect you for at least two more days.”

“That would be due to Astera Mistress, she force marched us, we ate while moving, started at first light and finished travelling at last light,” Otonia said.

“The weather was kind and the road being barely travelled meant it was in good condition,” Thyia added, trying to compensate for Otonia’s rough assessment.

“What say you Astera?” asked Charis, with more than casual interest.

“I commanded in your absence Mistress and led the caravan with some urgency as hungry people are only satisfied once they are fed, the earlier the better, I would think.”

“Well said Astera, you read the situation perfectly!”

Astera blushed, rosy red cheeks as well as unseen chest, at the high praise but otherwise humble, head bowed and glad she met her Mistress’ requirements.

“Mistress; Alcmene and Clymene have remained behind. They may have to be present if Raisa appears as the Official Seer of the Daughters of the Duchess.”

“We still haven’t been able to convince her then?”

“No Mistress, not for want of trying. Rhea is trying to organise some special responsibility for her at the Temple in Bircharbor. We are trying to keep this within the Seers, if it goes elsewhere we won’t know who will show interest and complicate it further.”

Charis nodded as she rode wondering why the bronze loops were so contrary when she used them but so clear to purpose when used by their previous evil owners.

“We are accompanied by a Priest of Judge. He told us a contingent of Judge Knights would be sent to cleanse this land and would be following soon.”

“It seems the forces of good are finally rallying. The Priest will be the first appointed since the previous Castellan thought the role unnecessary and left it vacant at the death of the previous appointment.”

“Mistress, Militia from Hillperch are also with us,” Astera said.

“You say that so quietly, do I need to be wary of surprise?”

Astera glanced down the wagon line and Charis followed her look and smiled. Meanwhile Astera withdrew her horse to allow a vacancy beside Charis.

A leader and six mounted warriors rode towards them, three from the far end of the wagon train and two outriders from each side of the wagon train, riding back to them from out front. Charis kept pace with the wagon train and waited.

“Hail Charis the Young!” Charis caught his smile and returned it. She knew who would have told him to greet her using that title!

“Hail Commander. Well met and I am sure the Keep will welcome you, your warriors and the supplies.”

“You know I am no Commander, just a lowly Sargent of the Guards with some of our volunteer militia,” he expertly positioned his horse to ride beside Charis’, “and of course the Gate Captain’s send their regards.”

“How long are you with us then?”

“The Militia and I are at your disposal, although nothing dangerous or daring do mind, our mission is to ensure the wagons arrive, unload them, confirm the Keep is secure and if not required ride back. The Town of Hillperch doesn’t mind the supplies, but the militia are on good pay while they ride outside the Town Gates and each day increases the cost.”

“I always thought their care was at a price, but it is still generous,” Charis agreed. Looking up she noticed two others, they saluted by touching their hand to their foreheads.

It was well past dusk when they arrived at the Keep. The gate guard stepped out of the way and ran for the Commander. Charis was in command of them all and directed stock, goods, chattels and militia with ease. The Militia assigned to an empty barrack beside the half-vacant one currently occupied by the Keep Guard. The Daughters assigned to a barrack well away from both. Charis and Helice accepted the Seer’s room in the Keep.

“We are saved!” said the Baron upon hearing the news of the new arrivals.

“I would not say that Baron, we are trying to hold what you have. The militia are new faces to me, most of them; they are untried and untested in battle and they will leave shortly. You will need to attract others, farmers, tradesmen and shop owners. You can do that if they know they are safe and for that you will need properly trained and loyal men at arms,” Charis responded sagely.

“The food, the livestock, I don’t understand.”

“This is to establish a defensive force to protect and feed what you have. This Season’s crop will need harvesting and storing for all to survive Death Season. There should be enough if what we surveyed is harvested and carefully rationed. Before the roads close though, I would advise sending for more foodstuffs as a further precaution.”

“I understand, obviously this is still just a start, although a good start. Please keep me advised. As for more, the treasury is low as I am not sure where the past Castellan disbursed our funds.”

“There is also a Priest of Judge with us, so time to be confirmed as the Baron and then be married shortly after. This should be good news and a sign of the Barony having a future. Although don’t have a lavish feast in celebration Lord Baron.”

“That is indeed a step forward; I am not sure what is more daunting, Baron or Marriage?”

“We all need sleep now my Lord Baron as tomorrow is going to be a busy day.”