Broken Soul

Michael

"We have surveyed the proposed areas and came to the conclusion that a large garrison here would be best." The man pointed at a spot in the south-west of Emall along the proposed main road toward Grent.

"It combines a geographically advantageous position with, as I have been told, good ground to build on. From there, they can quickly react to issues in Grent or the mountains and use the main road to move to other parts of Emall or Reen. That, together with the minor garrisons planned around the bigger towns, I believe we can ensure a proper security level for the entire county."

Michael looked at the map critically. The garrison would be quite far away from the eastern border of his realm, which was the most volatile one, even with the treaty with the Vargr-Släkt, but at any other spot it would be further away from the other hotspot, which is Grent's border with the Rangda.

"I agree," Michael finally said. "I think we can afford a slightly longer response time to eastern threats from this garrison. It is not their primary objective to safeguard the East after all. Get the planning started. I want a project plan as soon as possible, High Castellan Pluke."

The High Castellan smashed his fist in his chest, confirmed the order, and left the open planning room.

Sir Pluke was one of Michael's knights, one of the ones who had fought for Michael on that night, and Geron had suggested him as High Castellan due to his experience and organizational talents.

"Good, what's next?" Michael asked into the room. It was a busy coming and going here. Michael had co-opted the former Telp estate's great hall and filled it with tables, scribes, and administrators.

In the middle was a large rectangular table at which Michael worked on half a dozen different things at any given moment while also listening to reports on other delegated projects like the creation of a centralized major garrison for Emall now that most of the local powers, who normally handled security, had vanished.

"Milord," Lord Oligan spoke up. The aging steward had not taken the trial well, and he looked like he was about to run away to hide half the time. This wasn't overly surprising with the corpses he had in his closet, which partially tied back to the noble faction. He was officially a member of the loyalists, though.

Michael had decided not to go after members of the other factions, but he was pretty sure that everyone was aware that their lord knew about their indiscretions. Not only in part because a number of them had come to him to admit to theirs and begged for forgiveness, which he had granted with some mild fines or other kinds of civil services their houses could perform.

The advantage of Lord Oligan being very jumpy was that he was putting his back into his work like he hadn't done since Michael could remember. He was probably trying to prove his worth.

"Yes, Lord Oligan?" Michael motioned for him to speak.

"I would propose that we scrap the plans for the central tax fort in Emall and move that into the garrison. No reason to build and man two forts if the garrison can protect the tax coffers," the steward suggested.

"I agree. We weren't able to do much work there due to the nobles' interference anyway. Cancel that tax fort and reassign those resources appropriately to the garrison and other projects. Every smaller garrison will get a tax office with a central one in the main garrison," Michael agreed and wrote down a small note with his seal before handing it to the steward.

The work continued as it had over the last two weeks. Things were starting to calm down with Michael having instated most of the higher administration positions and leaving a lot of recruiting to them. He was mainly occupied with getting infrastructure, security, and industry projects started.

Most of his army had returned home by now, except for the units that were going to stay to build the Emall branch of the military under High Castellan Pluke, and Theden had taken the House Wallsten troops back to Grent to reinforce his father. No one expected anything more to happen with the Rangda, but Duke Greeich and Wallsten had decided to stay for a little while longer just to be sure.

As Michael was reviewing the latest list of valuables confiscated from the former nobles and merchants, a very hurried-looking soldier drew his attention.

The man came to a halt and saluted while waiting for Michael to call for him.

"Report, soldier," Michael said, immediately putting down the inventory and focusing on the man.

"Milord, my patrol has spotted a group of soldiers in the king's colors, numbering around ten, approaching Emall. There seem to be two Kingsguard knights present. I was sent here as quickly as possible to report," he said.

"How close?" Michael asked.

"If they maintain their pace, they will get here within the hour."

"Strange that they didn't send a messenger ahead to inform us of their arrival," Sygnus pondered loudly. "Maybe the king is coming, and this is the advanced unit?"

Michael wasn't so sure about having two Kingsguard knights in the mix. That wasn't the usual way things were done.

"Maybe," he said, nonetheless. He didn't have a much better idea.

It took only five minutes before another guard came running and informed them that they had spotted the royal envoy approaching the town.

"I guess they didn't keep up their pace," Michael commented as he made his way toward to entrance. "Zeke, gather up some soldiers to give them a proper welcome. Sygnus, please do the same with high-ranking officials. We have maybe five to ten minutes."

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Sygnus' suggestion that they were the messengers was pretty much out the window now. There was no reason for them to speed up the moment they got spotted if they were merely announcing the arrival of Zen. They were here for something else, and Michael could only guess that it had something to do with either his external or internal actions.

A few minutes later, he was standing in the courtyard in front of the mansion, flanked by a couple of officials and a row of soldiers.

Two silver-clad knights rode in through the gate at the head of a group of soldiers in the colors of House Merland. One of them was tall, with blond hair and a very unhappy expression. He seemed to be younger than his comrade by a decade or two, looking to be in his mid-twenties. The other one looked less annoyed than his comrade. He was shorter and burlier with brown hair and an array of scars on his face.

"My name is Count Michael Rowan, and I bid you welcome, knights of the crown," Michael greeted them after they had dismounted.

The burly man answered before his comrade could.

"We thank you for your hospitality, Lord Rowan. My name is Sir Jereos of House Vors, and this is Sir Lionel of House Queltin. We have been sent by his majesty King Zenial of the House of Merland, first of his name, to investigate the rumors of ... well, a dozen different things, honestly. We heard a lot of conflicting stuff on our way here, and we are just looking for clarity on our king's behalf."

Michael smiled genuinely when the knight didn't manage to keep up the formal declaration, but his amusement was quickly quashed by the belligerent gaze the other knight gave him.

He inspected Lionel closely and wondered if they had ever met. He certainly couldn't remember the man, but this kind of outright hostility surely didn't come out of nowhere.

"Ah, I see," Michael turned back to Sir Jereos. "I have sent a comprehensive report to his majesty, but as always, rumors seem to move faster than any man.

Jereos nodded, returning to a more formal way of speaking. "It appears that the report has sadly missed us. Nonetheless, we have heard very disturbing rumors ranging from civil war to outright rebellion against the crown, so you will have to excuse that we will have to investigate either way."

"Those are some nasty rumors. I can assure you that the reality is much less disturbing. There is nothing to worry about here. The situation has already been thoroughly resolved. Of course, you are free to investigate, and if you need anything to aid that investigation, let me know," Michael replied with a small bow.

This time Lionel spoke up, and his voice was full of venom. "Dozens of nobles dead, merchants slaughtered on the road or in their homes, and property seized like they were some worthless commoners. You call this less disturbing?"

Ah, so that is his problem, Michael thought. Couldn't Zen have sent someone more reasonable?

The knight wasn't done yet, though. "We will turn every stone, and if we find even the slightest bit of treachery, then it will be your head to roll next."

Michael tensed up and stared at the unprecedented disrespect. His mana began to churn as he didn't even try to conceal his anger.

He wasn't the only one who reacted badly to what could easily be regarded as a death threat.

Eydis reached for her weapons with a snarl on her face. Lance, Silas, and even Erhen looked like they wanted to jump the knight right here and now. Zeke was the only one of his guards who kept his composure, which might have been the only reason why no one moved.

Sygnus and the officials were generally more shocked than enraged, but that shifted with every second that passed. And even the House Merland soldiers looked mighty uncomfortable.

The whole courtyard had fallen silent as Michael and Sir Lionel stared at each other.

Barely two seconds passed, and Sir Jereos' voice cut through the silence. He immediately drew the attention of most present with a tone that could cut through metal and anger stamped clearly on his face.

"Sir Lionel, go and get the horses settled," he said, and his eyes promised harsh punishment if he was to be disobeyed.

Lionel looked like he wanted to argue for a moment, but then seemed to think better of it and turned to his group of soldiers, who looked like they would love to be anywhere but here right now. Luckily, their wish would be granted as Lionel led them to the stables with the horses, following a few meters behind.

Sir Jereos turned back to Michael after they had left his line of view and bowed deeply.

"I apologize from the depths of my heart for my fellow knight. He is very enthusiastic in his desire to do his duty. Please forget what he just said. We are not here to dig into your loyalty just to investigate what happened," he said.

Michael hesitated at the genuine apology. His blood was still running hot, but to be honest, he could do little to the knight who was a representative of the royal authority. Well, he could complain to Zen about this, which probably would be really bad for the overenthusiastic knight, but it also would not endear Michael to the kingdom's nobility. He was tempted to do it anyway.

Michael finally sighed and said, "I understand, Sir Jereos. Please rise, it is below you to beg for forgiveness in this manner. I will disregard Sir Lionel's ... spirited declaration this time. One word of caution, though, I do not enjoy being threatened in my own lands." He let the appropriate amount of steel sneak into that last sentence before letting it go. Sir Jereos seemed to understand what Michael was trying to say and nodded.

It wasn't worth making a big deal out of this, especially considering that the knight had done this in such a public setting. Michael was pretty sure it would reach Zen's ears one way or another, even without Michael having to do anything.

"Thank you, Lord Rowan. I am sure it won't happen again. We are merely tired from the journey," Sir Jereos said and smiled awkwardly.

"Understandable," Michael replied. "Why don't we get you settled so that you can get some rest. I would like to invite you to dine with me this evening, and then I can give you an account of what I have reported to the king so that you may investigate the truthfulness of my words."

"I'm grateful," the knight said and then looked over his shoulder to where Lionel had vanished. He was probably considering whether the other knight was invited too. It would be insulting if he weren't, but after what he had said, it wouldn't be surprising.

"Sir Lionel may also come, if he manages to get enough rest to not repeat this unfortunate situation," Michael picked up on the unsaid question.

"Very well," the knight said, and then he seemed to remember something as he reached for a small bag. "Right, from what we gathered on the road, I am rather certain that there is no treason against the king here, so I will hand over this letter from his majesty right away."

After doing that, he turned and followed a servant toward their quarters.

"I should have gutted him right here and now," Eydis signed, the anger was still on her face.

"Tell me when and where, and I will hold him still for you," Lance signed back.

Zeke visibly disapproved of that kind of talk, even if very few would understand the sign language between them. He still scolded them for their attitude, which then turned into a light argument between the rule-loving knight and the chaotic barbarian woman.

While that happened, Michael was reading the letter. It wasn't personal, merely Zen expressing his congratulations on the victory against the Rangda and inviting Michael to a celebratory festival in the capital roughly three weeks from now.

"Enough now," Michael interrupted the good-natured squabbling. "We are not gonna gut any servants of the crown here, but we will remember this. I think we will have to look into House Queltin, to see if it is a personal opinion or if we have an enemy we don't know about."

Michael then smiled and lightly waved the letter around. "And I already have a pretty convenient place to gather some information."