The Eighth Warden Bk. 05 Ch. 05-06

"I don't know," Corec said. "We hired more people, but not that many. Only half the armsmen were planning on bringing families. We'd better go find out what's happening."

#

Treya accompanied Corec to the caravan, but it had started to break apart by the time they reached it. The freight wagons stayed in position, but the others jostled with each other as they made their way off the path, up the uneven slope of the hill to the village, the drivers unwilling to wait for those on the road ahead to move out of their way.

A boy and a girl, both about ten years old, ran past, shouting excitedly as they pretended to look for a dragon.

"Don't go near the river!" a harried-looking woman yelled as she gave up trying to chase after them. She had a babe in her arms and a toddler holding onto her skirts.

Ral, a retired caravan guard who'd been part of the expedition against the dragon, was following after a man who was already driving his wagon away from the village.

"Hey, you!" Ral shouted. "You, with the oxen! I need your name for the list! You can't leave until I have your name!" He gave Treya and Corec a helpless shrug as he jogged past.

Corec stared after him for a moment, then shook his head. "Let's find Boktar."

They continued into the village, and were almost trampled by a young horse nervous from all the commotion.

"Sorry!" the boy on its back called out to them as he hauled back on the reins. "Whoa! I said whoa!" And then he was past them.

A man and woman had stopped nearby to look over one of the empty cottages.

"What about this one?" the woman asked.

Her husband shook his head. "Nah, see the roofing timbers?" he said, pointing. "They're rotting away. They'd collapse before I finished putting on new thatch. Let's keep looking--I saw some bigger places over to the left there."

Two young men strode past, looking around furtively. "You sure you don't remember anything else about your grandda's stories?" the older said. "You were always listening to him yammer on."

"No, I told you, all he ever said was that the farm was south of the Dapplewood," the other replied.

"Where's that supposed to be?"

"That's all I know. He said something about a place called Skunk Hollow once."

The first man grunted. "Maybe there's still an old sign up somewhere. We need to find it before your cousins do." They passed out of earshot, still making plans.

Treya looked at Corec in alarm. "Where did they all come from? Mother Yewen said people might come to ask us for help, but this isn't what she meant, is it?"

"I thought they'd want to be closer to town," Corec said. "There's plenty of land farther north. Why did they come all the way here? I'm going to look for Boktar."

Treya started to follow, but she was distracted by a familiar face. "Nallee? What are you doing here?"

"Hi, Treya!" the plump concubine said with an anxious smile. "Are you still looking for a blacksmith? It would have taken too long to try to get a message to you, so we just came without asking. Your Mr. Boktar didn't think you'd found one yet."

"I... yes, we still need a smith. You changed your mind?"

Nallee's smile faded. "Springwater burned down. There was nothing left for us to go back to, so since you'd made the offer..." She shrugged, then gestured to the two people standing next to her. "You know Patrig, but I don't think you've met his wife, Deni."

Treya nodded to the couple. "Welcome to... well, I don't know what we're calling the keep. Welcome to Hilltop Village. Patrig, the smithy isn't much to look at, but just let us know what you need to get it working again. Do you want to see it now? It's inside the fortress walls."

Patrig peered around at the chaos. "Everyone seems to be picking through the houses. We should probably look for something for ourselves before they're all gone, unless we're supposed to wait. Is there a rule about it?"

Treya hesitated. "We didn't know we'd need rules," she said. "We were expecting six to ten families, not... this. If Boktar didn't say anything, then I guess it's all right to look. I'll come with you to make sure there isn't any trouble. The armsmen all know me."

The blacksmith nodded and left his wagon where it was as he led his wife through the village. Treya followed behind, pulling Nallee back to walk beside her so they could talk.

"Where did they all come from?" she asked the concubine, gesturing vaguely to the remains of the caravan.

Nallee looked back. "Who? The families? I told the other Springwater folks about this place, and half of them decided to come with us rather than go to Demon's Crook. We ran into the others on the road."

"How many?" Treya asked, allowing her exasperation to slip through.

Nallee gave an embarrassed shrug. "It wasn't my fault, honest! Your caravan caught up with us and they were already escorting some of the refugees home, but Springwater wasn't the only village that burned down. A lot of the groups did leave when they got to where they were going, but more people joined along the way. Most of them stayed because of your soldiers. Everyone thinks it'll be safer here."

Safer? They were supposed to be preparing for a war. Corec wasn't going to be happy.

###

Chapter Six

Corec helped to get the caravan settled, then tracked down Boktar and Ellerie in the great hall. Treya and Bobo were already there, going over the cargo manifest.

"We finished unloading the food wagons," Ellerie was saying. "I sent Nedley's squad on a circuit around the village to make sure there aren't any problems."

"The other wagons are locked away in one of the warehouses," Corec added. "Ral's setting a watch over it." To Boktar, he said, "You made him a corporal?"

"He seemed the best fit," the dwarven man replied. "And I hired two more men to bring the squads up to full strength."

Hiring more soldiers was another added expense, but with the number of new people they were dealing with, it was probably necessary.

"Are they from the expedition, or from the new group?" Corec asked.

"The new group, two farm boys. Solid lads. No training, but Nedley's got them started. I've asked Ral to watch and learn--I figure we'll want him on siege weapons rather than on the front lines, but he'll need to know enough real soldiering to handle a squad."

Corec nodded. "That sounds good, but what happened? We were supposed to be avoiding towns in case we're attacked, not setting up one of our own."

The dwarven man sighed. "It started simple enough. Some of the refugees heard we were heading back south, so they asked if we could act as their escort. It went fine at first, but then we caught up to Patrig and his group from Springwater. They were already on their way, and they told everyone there was going to be a new village here, and there'd be work available once the trade caravans started up again. And that whoever got here first could pick from the homes that were left."

"That's not what I said!" Treya insisted. "I told Nallee that Patrig could have the smithy, just like we discussed, and I said there were plenty of houses for them to choose... from..." She winced. "Oh."

Boktar nodded. "The first few families who asked if they could settle here, I figured it was fine--with the number of people we're hiring, we're going to need more than just a blacksmith. But then more kept asking. I didn't see how I could tell them no. A lot of them don't have anywhere to go back to."

"Well, what's done is done," Corec said. "How many are there?"

Boktar glanced down at his list. "Of the people we hired, eleven armsmen and two scouts, and Nedley brings us to an even fourteen for the soldiers. Six carpenters, a woodcutter, four servants, twelve for the road-clearing crew, a well-digger, and a potter who makes water pipes, so we can fix the drainage. Thirteen families, which is more than we thought--some of the workers figured they'll be here long enough that they might as well stay."

That was the group Corec had been expecting, but it still sounded like a lot of people. "And the rest?" he asked.

"Thirty-eight more families, a dozen single men, and two women who plan to start a laundry together. I tried to hire them for the keep but they want to go into business for themselves."

Corec rubbed his temples. "Fifty extra men? What are they all going to do? We can't hire that many."

"Most aren't looking for jobs; they're looking for opportunity. They know what the situation is like here, but they still made the choice to come. Half of them are farmers."

"Farmers are a problem if they want to settle down nearby." Corec thought for a moment. "We need to convince them to go east rather than west. Let's tell them... we're worried about hillfolk raiders."

"That should work for most of them."

"Then maybe we'll be able to deal with this."

"Well, that's just this batch," Boktar said.

Corec stopped cold. "What do you mean?"

"The scouts say there's another caravan a day behind us. If they've come this far, they're probably on their way here. I expect they won't be the only ones."

Treya nodded. "Nallee thinks Mother Yewen was right about the farmland," she said. "She told me the area around Four Roads has gotten too crowded, and it won't matter that the land here needs to be cleared first. They'll come anyway."

"Wouldn't most of them want to settle closer to Four Roads or South Corner?" Corec asked.

Boktar said, "Some might, but these folks came here because they think we can protect them better than Four Roads can."

"Protect them from what?"

"Raiders, bandits, another dragon." Boktar shrugged. "Whatever happens."

"The village, sure," Corec said, "but what do the farmers think we're going to do with twelve--fourteen--soldiers? We can't be everywhere at once. Even if we convince this group to settle in one area, if more keep coming, we won't be able to watch over them all with just the men we've got."

"Can we hire more?" Treya asked.

"Not enough; not without..." Corec trailed off, thinking over what he'd almost said. "How many people are we talking about? Another caravan, and then what? Treya, your friend says there'll be more after that?"

"She thinks so."

Corec paced back and forth. There were no customs or laws that would allow the group to exert control over the surrounding area, but if they didn't take action and Rusol launched an attack, they'd be putting innocent lives at risk.

"We can't let anyone settle near the west road between here and Fort Hightower," he said, "but these are the free lands, so we can't stop them. Not unless we change how things are done."

"What do you mean?"

"We need to protect them from Rusol, and apparently they want us to protect them from everything else too. There's no way to do that unless we administer the land the way my father does for his barony. We decide where the farmers can settle, or at least we've got to approve their choices. We'll still let them claim land for themselves--one hide per family--but only in the areas we allow."

The others exchanged glances.

"Can we do that?" Ellerie asked.

"Not by custom, but who's going to stop us? We killed the dragon like we promised we would, but we never said the land would be free for the taking afterward. We either have to take charge of the area or we leave everyone to fend for themselves."

Bobo frowned in thought. "I don't know how the neighbors are going to feel about that. Half the reason nobody's tried to conquer the free lands in the past few hundred years is because nobody else has. When Matagor was here, they never claimed much beyond the village. They didn't want to antagonize Larso."

"We're already waiting for Larso to attack, and I don't imagine Matagor will want to go the expense of mounting a war outside their borders. I can't think of any other way to do this. We need to make sure the farmers are grouped together in the east so our patrols can cover them all."

"Can they, with just two squads?" Treya asked. "The coal mines are to the west, and you wanted to patrol that way too."

"No, we'll need more men. If we don't make enough from the toll bridge and the mines, we'll have to levy a tax." In the free lands, towns usually taxed farmers with milling and trading fees, but that wasn't enough revenue to do anything with. The larger nations taxed the land itself.

"A tax?" Ellerie said. "We shouldn't let that come as a surprise. We should tell everyone now before they get settled."

"You don't think we'll bring in enough without it?" Corec asked.

Ellerie shook her head. "No, the numbers I saw would pay for our original plan, but... we have no idea how many other people will show up. How big of an area are you talking about?"

"Well, it's got to be from here to the hills in the west. Enough in the other directions to provide farmland for everyone who comes. What if we just take the dragon's territory? It's been stable for decades--not counting the past year--so the borders are pretty well set."

"That's... a lot of land," Bobo said.

"How much?"

"Fifty miles north and south, more to the east and west, since the smaller communities dried up when it wasn't safe to use the main roads. Maybe ten thousand square miles? Twelve?"

Corec coughed. The region was significantly larger than his father's barony. In fact, it would have been among the largest baronies in Larso.

"That's too much," he said. "Maybe we should just focus on the road to Hightower, and convince the farmers to go east on their own."

"No," Ellerie said. "You had the right idea. They're here because they want our protection. If we can do it, we should. How many others will come for the same reason, and how much land will we need to accommodate them all? The dragon's territory makes a good boundary. No one lives here now, so they can't complain if things are different than what they're used to."

Corec nodded. It was more responsibility than he wanted to take on, but it was the best way to keep everyone safe from Rusol.

"Then yes, let's warn them about the tax," he said. "We'll need surveyors and extra patrols to cover that wide of an area, even if most of it is unoccupied. One hide of arable land..." He had to stop and think. It had been a long time since his early schooling with his brothers, and after he left home, his education had focused more on military matters and tactics. "One hide of arable land should bring in five to ten gold each year, depending on what the farmer grows and whether he's living off the land himself. In Larso, it's taxed at thirty silver, but ten of that goes to the Church. If we tax it at fifteen, that should be enough. I don't remember the rates for the different crafters and merchants."

"I know what they are in Matagor," Bobo said. "It should be close to Larso, minus the Church tithe."

"We can't tax anyone this year," Treya pointed out. "The farmers won't have time to get in full crops, and all the other trades depend on the farmers' income."

That meant any income from taxes would be over a year and a half away.

"Then we'll have to be careful," Corec said. "If we keep everyone to the east for now, the elves aren't going to cause a problem. The real threats are to the west."

"What about here?" Treya asked. "The village?"

"We can fit people inside the fortress if there's a surprise attack, but that won't work for a drawn-out siege. If Rusol sends the army, we'll have to get these folks away to somewhere safer. We need more scouts." He paused, then shook his head. "No--we need someone to watch Fort Hightower. If the army's headed here, they'll muster out at Hightower. That could take a month or more, and then it'll take weeks for them to reach us. A scout could get back in time to warn us."

"A scout?" Ellerie asked. "Or Leena?"

Corec shook his head. "Not Leena--she's too busy already, and I don't want to send her into Larso unless it's absolutely necessary. Maybe she can check the border once a week until we find someone. If we've got a man in Hightower, he'll hear all the rumors and see what's happening." It would be a spy, really, rather than a scout. Was this how Yelena's spy network had first started?

#

The small tavern was crowded for its first night, the new residents of the village taking a break from attempting to clean and repair the homes they'd claimed. They stared uncertainly at Corec as he entered, but so far none of the families he'd spoken to about the tax had outright rejected the idea.

He made his way over to Katrin, who was standing behind the bar serving drinks.

"Did Shavala make it away all right?" she asked.

"We snuck the dragon out without anyone noticing," he murmured in reply. "She's going to camp out in one of the abandoned villages. How's it going here?"

"If we're this busy every night, the ale I asked Boktar to buy is only going to last for a few days. And they keep asking for apple brandy. Who drinks apple brandy?"

Corec snickered. "In the city, only rich people. It must be cheaper here, with the orchards."

"Well, I don't have any, so they'll just have to wait. But I did learn something."

"What's that?"

"I would have made a lousy serving girl. And there's no way I can play music and serve drinks at the same time."

"Maybe you can find somebody here looking for a job."

"I have someone in mind already," Katrin said.

"Oh?"

Before she could reply, Boktar appeared at Corec's side, leading an older man.

"Corec," Boktar said, "this is Mr. Jonson. He was the miller in Springwater before the dragon came. He asked if he could speak to you."

Jonson gave an awkward half-bow. "Yes, ahh, Lord Corec. There's no mill here, and the banks of the river are too steep and at too much of an angle to build a waterwheel. Even if I could dig out enough space, with the way the water is funneled through the ravine, I'd just get flooded any time there was a little rain. Is there a stream nearby? The river's too much, really, for what I need."

"Just call me Corec, Mr. Jonson. I'm not a lord."

"Oh, ahh, yes, sir."

"We have a list--where's Bobo?" Corec looked around. "I don't see him here, but a man named Bobo has a list of all the villages in the area that had grist mills. We haven't sent anyone out yet to see what condition they're in, but I believe the closest is just a mile or two away. If you'd like to look it over, we can get you a map, and some soldiers as an escort."

Jonson nodded. "Appreciate it, sir. This is in another village, you say?"

"Yes, but nearby, and close to where we hope to settle the farmers. I'm sure some of the buildings are still standing, but I don't know about the mill."

"If the millstones are still in good shape, everything else can be rebuilt, but I'll need some strong, young backs to do the work," Jonson said.

There were already more projects available than the road crew and carpenters would be able to handle, but the grist mill would be necessary with this many farmers.

"We'll make sure you have the help you need after we've made some progress on the roads and the fortress walls. Boktar, would you ask two of the men to... No, wait--ask Sarette to tell the squad leaders to choose two men to serve as an escort."

"Sure, Corec."

By the time Jonson and Boktar left to look for Bobo, Katrin was busy with customers at the other end of the bar. The next person who came up to Corec was less welcome than the miller had been.

"Conley," Corec said flatly, "I didn't know you were coming back."

"Someone must minister to the people," the bearded priest said. "Bobo and Miss Treya, as powerful as they are, don't seem interested in that sort of thing."

"I doubt farmers and villagers are going to need any sermons from the God of War--and I certainly don't want to hear them myself."