NOVEL NEXT Chapter Three | Book 3
"…Which brings us to the second item on the agenda. Traders from the Hollowmere are making inroads and wish to join the new Everspring Trade Coalition. I say we let them have their say. We could use access to their herds of sheep and lambs. While the trading outpost is being constructed, we require a facility to process livestock. I suggest…"
Roland, Baron Swiftwood, with new council electees, Fie Vinter, and Alic Ashfall, all new electees to the town council, sat in Roland's cramped office, around a table that was much too small, to go over the latest petitions to the growing traders' coalition. The table's surface was covered in papers bearing various scripts, notes, seals, and signatures, as well as leather-bound ledgers and books.
Fie Vinter was a respected trader who had settled in Everspring over a decade ago. She had brought in a small amount of alcoholic beverages to sell. Over the years, she had expanded her network of providers across the area to establish herself as an indispensable figure. After the Baron and I had settled our disagreement, she'd become the largest provider to all of Everspring, the new orc fort, and even the burgeoning ferrokin city. I still worked with the smaller home brewers, but some of them were expanding to match demand from all the new traders.
Alic, being captain of the guard, had been a natural pick at my suggestion. I knew nothing about town security. He'd been the captain of the guard for over a year and had been a perfect fit.
The room was hazy due to a lack of light. With the exception of one small, overly thick and yellowed window, this place was a dungeon. Roland seemed to love it. It was only at our behest that he had lit a few lanterns, but placed them far enough away so his tinderbox of a desk wasn't at risk.
There were bookshelves against every wall, and each of those was stuffed with more books than I had seen in one place on Mythralon since the great library of Crownforge. A few pieces of art hung on the wall. I suspect a local had painted scenes of Everspring. They were quite well done, with deep colors and visible brushstrokes. My favorite depicted a field of lavender near a small pond. I was sure that was the location where I had proposed to my beautiful girlfriend.
Several things were weighing heavily on my mind.
One was the water leak and the associated cost.
The second regarded my dwindling savings, which would be impacted by the loss of The Shadow's Respite for the time being. For every day the tavern was closed, I couldn't make a dime.
The last concerned the invitation I had received just an hour ago. My fingers drummed against my chin as I slid the royal letter out and reread it under the table.
Lord Commander Varix Vel'Naris,
You are cordially invited to participate in the First Annual Royal Table Masters Cooking Challenge, by decree of His Majesty King Alister.
Competitors shall present three courses: a humble beginning, a hearty middle, and a sweet conclusion, each showcasing the bounty of our blessed kingdom.
The winners will receive the right to display the Platinum Spoon at their place of business with the designation as "Purveyor of Fine Cuisine to His Majesty King Alister". All in the kingdom shall know of this cook's fine skills. The winner will also receive the Crown's Spice Chest, a magical collection of exotic spices from across the realm (and beyond) that shall always remain full.
Your attendance is requested two months hence and shall take place in the port town of Tidewater Harbor. Signify your commitment by marking YAY or NAY.
May your knives be sharp and your larder always abundant.
In service to the crown and the royal kitchen,
Warren Stonekettle
Grand Steward of Royal Festivities
"Are we keeping you from something, Lord Commander Vel'Naris?" Roland cleared his throat and asked.
"Yeah. Kinda. Sorry, friends. I just got a letter from Crownforge."
Alic's eyes lit up. "Another wedding? The king wants to make another surprise appearance? Oh no. Is there a chicken wing emergency?"
Fie smacked Alic's shoulder, but it was too late. I was already roaring with laughter. After I calmed down, I thanked Alic for the laugh.
"Always here to help, Lord Commander," he said and grinned.
"Official royal business." I waved the envelope.
"Ooooh. Sounds ominous," Fie said.
I looked over the letter again while all eyes watched me. When I looked up, I told them the contents. Why now? If the contest invitations were going out to me and other contestants, it wasn't a secret.
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"What a fantastic event for King Alister to host," Baron Swiftwood said. "I wonder who the judges will be? Perhaps I should inquire."
"I, too, would like to attend," Alic interjected. "I love food and I really love good food."
Then I was peppered with questions.
"…will there be judges besides the king?"
"…how about money on top of the prize?"
"…what is a Crown Spice Chest?"
I loudly cleared my throat to get their attention. "Look. I know nothing about this contest except what the contents of this invitation state. You know as much as I do."
They grumbled, but I promised to fill them in on the details as soon as I had them. Reluctantly, we returned to the business of Everspring.
I leaned back in my chair and focused on the discussion. When Roland raised concerns about grain storage for the new traders, I suggested we could utilize some of the empty space behind The Wandering Boar. Fie nodded and mentioned her contacts in Hollowmere who specialized in grain preservation.
Alic raised questions about security for the increased trade traffic. I admitted I knew little about patrol schedules but deferred to his expertise. He outlined plans for additional guard rotations near the trading post. When Baron Swiftwood asked about tax collection procedures, I shrugged and pointed to Roland. "That's way above my knowledge level. Roland handles all the paperwork."
The meeting wrapped up after another hour of discussion about road maintenance and merchant permits. I tucked the royal invitation back into my pocket and headed for the door.
Outside Roland's office, Mira leaned against the building wall with her arms crossed. Her leather armor showed fresh scratches, and her dark hair was pulled back in a practical braid.
"Hey, Mira. How was your trip?"
"Mostly uneventful."
I hadn't seen her in weeks. Mira enjoyed being a caravan guard to get out of town from time to time.
"Run into any bandits on your travels?"
"A few. Nothing we couldn't handle. My crew is up for just about anything as long as we don't end up in another war against orcs and the undead. Most bandits run as soon as we make our presence known. The job is easy money."
"Sounds like it." I didn't comment on the fresh marks on her leather breastplate.
"The reason I came to find you is about the orcs. There's trouble."
"What's the problem this time?" I asked. The orcs always had some drama brewing. Last month, it had been disputes over cooking duties—the month before that, arguments about who got to sleep in the new hut. Urzan usually kept the peace, but he'd gone to learn more about the ferrokin, leaving Moktar in charge. While he was a fine soldier, from what I'd seen, he didn't quite know how to keep the peace the way his leader did, with fists and harsh words. Moktar tended to back down when pressed too hard.
"Why me?"
"Because they'll listen to you. Probably. I don't know. I figured it was worth a try. How's Alic?"
"He's good. You haven't seen him since you got back?"
"No," Mira answered sharply. I knew better than to prod her.
"So." I quickly changed the subject. "Any good stories from the road?"
She pushed off from the wall and started walking toward the edge of town. "Come on. I'll tell you on the way."
We walked past the bustling market square. Mira launched into her story about the journey to the capital.
"So this merchant from Fenwick kept complaining about his missing 'precious cargo.' Spent three days searching through every wagon and crate. Accused the other traders of theft. Nearly started a brawl."
"What was he missing?"
"His pet chicken. Turns out the damn bird had been riding in another trader's vegetable cart the whole time. The merchant thought someone had stolen his 'exotic poultry specimen' when really it just wanted to nest in the cabbage."
I laughed. "A chicken caused all that trouble?"
"Gets better. When we found it, the bird had laid eggs in the cabbage. The vegetable trader tried to charge the chicken owner for 'premium nesting services.'"
"What?" I laughed.
"The merchant paid it, too. But only after some haggling."
"Do your trips always end up like this?"
"Yes."
We reached the edge of town, where the new trading post sprawled across what had been an empty field. The area had outgrown its original boundaries. Wagons sat next to towering piles of crates and lumber. Metal ingots shone in neat stacks beside barrels of vegetables and fruit. Canvas-covered stalls dotted the area where merchants hawked their wares.
This was where Jessara and Milo used to run their food cart. Now the space overflowed with business. I made a mental note to get their cart back out here. At least that way, we could make some money while The Shadow's Respite stayed closed for repairs.
The main road had widened to accommodate the increased traffic. Two wagons rolled past us, loaded with goods. A man on horseback darted between them with practiced ease. His velvet jacket was embroidered with gold thread, and he wore polished boots with silver buckles. A slim sword hung at his hip. He sat straight in the saddle like he'd been taught proper riding form since childhood.
Several wooden stalls had moved out here from the main marketplace. The smell of smoked meat drifted from one where a woman turned a spit over glowing coals. Another sold strips of jerky and hard tack to travelers who needed food for the road.
We continued toward the orc fort. The structure had grown since my last visit. Double doors had replaced the single entrance, and the watch towers stretched higher into the sky. Thick wooden walls protected the sides of the towers. Orcs stood guard alongside city guardsmen and a few mercenaries who'd come looking for work.
The palisade had transformed into a proper wall. Thick lumber boards fitted together tightly, and the whole thing was coated in some ferrokin mixture that made it gleam like it was covered in metal shards. The coating was supposed to protect against fire attacks.
We approached the main gates. An older man straightened up and stood at attention as we passed through.
"Afternoon, Tobias," Mira called out.
"Good to see you both," he replied with a respectful nod.
Inside the fort, the changes were even more impressive. Two long barracks buildings housed the growing number of residents. A large mess hall dominated the center of the compound with smoke rising from its chimney. Smaller sleeping huts scattered around the edges provided additional housing. Off to one side, orcs gathered around a circular pit that was used for wrestling and fierce hand-to-hand combat in the form of a game.
Pressed together in a patch of bare land were at least a dozen orcs. They pushed at each other and voices rose in an orcish argument.
What fresh hell had I just walked into?