Chosen of the Endless One [Kingdom Building]

Book 3 Chapter 38


I paced the length of my cramped study, too full of energy to sit still. A small sheet of paper held between my fingers. My thoughts racing. "Holy crap, Benjamin. We won. We frickin' beat back seven hundred raiders!"

Behind me, Benjamin stood straight-backed, composed, hands clasped behind him like the world hadn't just flipped upside down. "Congratulations, my lord," he said. "It really is incredible."

"Incredible," I snorted, more like impossible. I plopped into my chair with a sigh, only to bounce right back up again. Sitting still was not going to happen. "I need details, dang it. How in the world did they get them to retreat from Pine Grove? How did Draves convince them to surrender? We need to find a better way to send messages. Pigeons are great, but you can only send short messages. And now we're out of pigeons! We need telephones. Telegraphs at a minimum."

Benjamin gave a small nod. I had explained the communications of Earth to him at one point in time.

"I've already started organizing the riders to return the pigeons. We'll have a full report shortly."

Of course, he had. He was always two steps ahead of me, which I was grateful for, especially now. I cannot believe Pine Ridge held, we were so sure they would take the bait and charge Marsh Fort. They lost men, but they held. And just minutes ago, we got the last message—Draves says most of the Rabiss surrendered. The rest, fifty or so, scattered into the marsh. Scouts were out right now trying to discover where the individuals or groups had gone.

"We need a holiday." I laughed, shaking my head. "People are going to tell this story for years."

"It will be a memorable week since your birthday is in two days."

"Crap, is that here already? I know you said something earlier, but I completely forgot it was almost here."

Benjamin sighed. "Everyone has been talking about it. I cannot see how you could forget."

"Doesn't matter. No time for a celebration anyway." I walked back toward the desk and leaned against it, gripping the edge to ground myself. The excitement began to dull, replaced by the weight of what came next. "We have to deal with the report from North Point, about Oceanside."

Benjamin nodded. He understood this was a priority. "I agree. If they hit Oceanside, they might've hit the outlying villages, too."

"I'm taking a few men from each town and riding south. I need to speak with Plimgus.

"You think it was coordinated before the North Cove raid started?"

"It had to be. At first, I thought maybe a few of the ships that left the cove, but the timing didn't fit. This wasn't a raid during the retreat. This was a distraction—to keep the south tied up so they couldn't send help north. Imagine if we had not had that trap ready in time. We would have been attacked on two sides. Now all I have to do is chase off one more group."

Benjamin gave me a rare smile. "A fine way to spend your eighteenth."

I smiled back, sharp and tired. "Let's make it count."

******

We set out early the next day. Because my personal guard and I were on horseback, we made it to North Point well ahead of the infantry slogging behind us. Not that I minded the extra time, truth be told, I wanted to avoid the grumbling. Half those men had barely made it back to Bicman after having been told to leave North Point to help secure Bicman, only to be ordered to march straight back down toward Plimgus. I didn't blame them for being upset, but I wasn't about to ride at their pace just to listen to it.

The breeze coming off the hills smelled like churned-up dirt and faint ash or wood fires. When we crested the last rise, North Point came into view—and my gut sank a little. The last time I stood here, the place had been alive with movement: soldiers running drills and shouting instructions. Fields were churning under the power of the Bicman plows. Now? It looked almost like a ghost town. The barracks stood empty, the training yards barren. The wide, tilled stretch of land lay untouched, waiting to be planted.

A handful of guards remained, clustered at the entrance near the old watchtower. Jacob, Headman of North Point, stood tall among them, his steel-gray cloak fluttering faintly in the wind. His grin was already breaking across his weathered face before I even dismounted.

Jacob wasn't like Draves. Where Draves was all stone and discipline, Jacob was warm and approachable, but may the Endless One help you if you tested him. The man could strip bark off a tree with his voice when discipline on the field lagged. That balance was why Draves had recommended him for command out here. I hadn't regretted approving it.

His wife stood nearby, her sleeves rolled up and smudged with soil, waving with a smile that made me think of people of Bicman. A few children peeked from behind her skirts, and more villagers trailed out from their homes or gardens, wiping hands on aprons and trousers, murmuring greetings.

The change in people's attitude hit me harder than I expected. A year ago, they either hid inside their homes or, at best, stared with guarded suspicion. Now, they cheered.

I couldn't help the grin spreading across my face.

"What's got you grinning so wide, my lord?" Rick asked, pulling his horse alongside mine.

I glanced over, still half-lost in the scene unfolding below. "Because, despite the Rabiss raid, these people have hope in their eyes. Because I see what this place will become."

He raised an eyebrow. "And what's that, my lord?"

"A seat of power," I said, my voice quieter now, as if speaking it aloud gave it form. "We'll keep expanding. One day, we won't need to pull from the academy to fill our ranks in times of trouble. That means more people will be here on a constant basis. But that means this little village will need more than barracks; it'll need permanent homes. And then a town. I see a new barony—split from Plimgus. A city is going to be built here one day."

Rick snorted. "A barony split from another is usually given to a descendant of the original baron. Will you give it to a Plimgus?"

"Hopefully not," I muttered, shooting him a sideways look. "Don't ruin the mood."

He chuckled and nudged his horse ahead.

After greeting Jacob and handing my reins off to one of my guards, I followed Jacob to his home. It was stone-walled and had a few rooms. The kitchen/dining room had a warped table and a few chairs. An open window gave the room its light. We went over recruits, training rosters, and expenses. I groaned at the expenses. It was a drain, truly an open wound in our finances, but a necessary one. Maybe the most necessary thing in North Cove County. I just had to hope we could grow fast enough to outpace whatever war the future had in store.

By the time the sun bled red into the western sky, the infantry finally rolled in, dusty, tired, but still marching in clean formation. No supply wagons followed them; they'd traveled light to make time. The camp sprang up fast, tents unfolding like flowers after a rainstorm. Fires sparked to life as the men unloaded the meager rations they had carried. With fresh provisions from North Point, they'd march again tomorrow. The new North Cove road south had shaved an entire day off the journey for the men who would have normally had to weave their way down a pitted trail that at some points was barely large enough to hold a wagon. It made me impatient to see it finished all the way to Malcomp. Once it was, caravans would come, and with that, the wealth of our county would grow. What was once a five-day journey could be made in two at the most if on horseback.

That evening, I walked through the camp, stopping to speak with the soldiers. I gave them my thanks, telling them how far they'd come, how proud I was of their grit and discipline. I tossed in a promise of ten days of leave once this mess was over. Their faces lit up with the news. Whether it was my praise or the promise of rest, it didn't really matter. When I left, the air in camp was lighter.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

Just as I was about to turn in, a runner appeared at the edge of the camp, with dust coating his horse and tunic.

"My lord," he said in surprise, dismounting and bowing low. "I am glad you are here. It saves me from a longer trip. I have a message from Plimgus."

I waved him forward. "Speak."

"Both Lord Malcomp's and Lord Plimgus's knights that had previously been in North Point have moved toward Oceanside. They plan to scout and establish blockades once they gauge how far the Rabiss have advanced. Also—" He hesitated. "Lord Plimgus himself left several days ago with his sons and a small guard contingent. They've not returned."

My mouth opened on instinct, and I blurted out, "Is that man an idiot?"

The words cut the night air like a knife, and soon, soldiers who were close enough to hear were murmuring. The guards near me froze, eyes flicking to the runner and back again. I could feel the tension coil. Insulting a noble—especially in front of commoners—wasn't done.

But I didn't care. The man was a jerk.

I pushed forward, voice sharp. "What did he hope to accomplish with a handful of guards? Did he even bother sending scouts? He's just asking to be captured or worse."

No one had an answer.

And honestly, I wasn't looking for one. I'd lost too many men thanks to his political games during the mercenary mess. But despite my frustration, I knew one thing: he wasn't a fool. His plan with the mercenaries did seem well thought out. It probably would have worked if I hadn't sent so many men. The fact that my men had cloth armor helped as well. So, that being said, if he went down there with so little backup, it meant he knew something I didn't, or he was playing a game I hadn't seen the board for yet.

I dismissed the rider and walked away from the listening ears of my men. Rick stayed at my side.

I ran a hand through my hair and let out a slow breath. I couldn't afford to underestimate Plimgus. Or waste time.

If Plimgus had plans of his own, we'd need to act before those plans turned against us. And beyond that...

My thoughts darkened, and my jaw tightened.

"I have a bad feeling about this. I don't trust that man, and Zed's down there," I said finally. "With his whole family."

Rick looked at me. He didn't need me to explain. We both knew what that meant.

I let out a slow breath. "I haven't known him long, but I trust him. He's one of the good ones. And I won't leave him to get swallowed up by someone else's scheming. If Plimgus isn't already dead when I get down there, I may just kill him myself. Especially if what is happening is what I suspect. He is a pawn of the Council after all."

Rick gave a single nod, slow and steady. "Then get some rest. We will move quickly tomorrow."

*****

We rode hard the next morning, our horses' hooves thundering down the new dirt road, the wind snapping at our cloaks as forest blurred past. It was my birthday, but like I told Benjamin, there would be no celebrations until our lands were free of Rabiss. By the second bell past noon, the silhouette of Plimgus Manor rose into view, a sturdy two-story estate perched atop a grassy hill, its stone walls standing gray and proud against the clear morning sky. The village nestled below it was quiet, subdued, with smoke curling lazily from chimneys.

As we approached the hill, the road curved into a steep cobbled path. I slowed my horse, frowning slightly.

When did Plimgus cobble this road? And why? A vanity project? Or a gift to the Baroness? Wasteful.

Then I laughed at myself. This is coming from the man who has a concrete drive at his own estate.

The manor wall came into full view, flanked by two squat towers. The gates had already been opened for us, as if they'd been watching our approach from the moment we crested the last ridge. Guards in dull uniforms stepped aside with a salute, and we passed beneath the arch into the courtyard.

It was large. A pale cobbled drive circled the center artificial pond, long dry, the stone basin half-filled with dead leaves and windblown dirt. Planters lined the edges, but both the planters and the pond had been neglected during the winter. Training dummies sat off to one side, unused and weather-stained.

I dismounted and handed my reins to a boy. I strode toward the manor, my jaw was tight, and I was fully prepared to storm into the house and demand to know what sort of madness had overtaken Plimgus. Well, that was my plan until until the door opened first.

Out stepped the steward. And behind him, Edward.

I froze mid-step. "Edward?" I asked, voice catching with surprise. "What are you doing here?"

He looked like he'd aged five years. His clothes were neat and pressed, but it looked as if he had traveled hard the last few days. Before I could push him further, the next figure through the doorway stopped me cold.

"Fredrick?"

He gave me one of his signature grins, the lopsided one that used to charm all the girls at the balls in Vaspar. Oh, and that one time he dragged me to a tavern after he got bored at a ball. "Oh, you know," he said, voice light but strained. "Thought I'd try the country life. Get some fresh air. Maybe some exercise."

I raised an eyebrow, summoning my best Marshandra impression. "Extra exercise, you? Haven't you been training to head south?"

He didn't respond to my teasing. He looked like he hadn't slept in a week. And Edward, Edward looked like he was carrying bad news as well.

Fredrick's smile cracked. "Count Bicman, might I have a word with you?" he asked, suddenly formal.

"Of course, Lord Vaspar," I replied in kind. "Let's adjourn somewhere private. Judging by your face, this isn't going to be a light chat."

We entered the manor and veered left, toward the guest quarters. The hall was quiet, just the muted creak of our boots on old wooden floors and the low hum of voices behind closed doors. After three doors, Fredrick opened one and gestured for me to enter.

The guest room was as large as my own back in Bicman, a simple bed, writing desk, hearth with fresh logs already stacked. The ash had been swept recently, but the scent still lingered.

Fredrick sat on the edge of the bed and buried his face in his hands. Then began to rub his face as if fighting off exhaustion. I waited a moment before lowering myself into the chair.

"What are you doing here, Fredrick? How long have you been at Plimgus?"

He let out a breath like he'd been holding it for hours. "My father's dead. Assassinated. I don't have proof… but I'm sure it was Peter."

I blinked. "What? Your brother, I didn't see that coming."

Fredrick gave a bitter chuckle. "Neither did my father. He was always too soft on Peter. The precious heir. Blind to his faults. Now Peter's Count, and I figured I'd better disappear before I ended up with a knife between my ribs."

"And he just let you walk out?"

"I spun a tale about diplomacy. Said I'd come here to reassure you that Peter values peaceful relations. That you had nothing to worry about. And to convince you that he was not responsible for my father's death." He looked up, eyes tired. "Not my best performance. But my brother is so full of himself, he thinks I am stupid enough not to see what he did."

I leaned back and gave him a dry look. "Well, you totally failed in your attempt to convince me not to worry. You suck as an envoy."

He snorted despite himself. "Yeah."

"So you're hiding out?"

"Me and a few of my guards. Already had to dump one of Peter's men in a ditch. Might've been a spy. Might've come for me… or you."

I frowned. "And Edward?"

Fredrick's expression sobered. "Actually… all your people who were in Vaspar are here. The publishing house burned. So did their housing."

My stomach dropped. "He burned down North Cove Publishing?"

Fredrick winced. "That was me."

"You what?!"

"I had no choice," he said quickly. "Either torch it or let Peter kill all your people. He hates you, Amos. Thinks you stole land that was his by birthright. He wants you dead."

I ran both hands through my hair and stood. "More assassins, then."

"Or mercenaries and my father's soldiers," Fredrick said, grim. "A show of power fits his style."

This made me think. Was this the thing Tanya was warning me about? Was Benjamin right after all? I refocused on the matter at hand. I was already planning on preparing for the worst, so there was no need to dwell on it. "What do you need from me?"

"A place to stay. Until I figure out how to kill my brother."

I gave him a long look and said, "And what do I get in return?" More as a joke than anything. It's not like I would refuse a friend who had helped me out in the past.

He cracked another tired smile. "A loyal ally in court. And my friendship."

"Deal. Once I wrap things up here, we'll head back to Bicman, and we'll prepare for your triumphant return to Vaspar. I need to figure out this mess. Actually, I am surprised that the Baroness wasn't out to greet me when I arrived. With her personality, I thought she would be the first to blame this all on me and demand I fix it."

He stood up and stretched. Then walked over and put his back against the wall. It looked like he was trying to fight off exhaustion.

"She didn't greet you because she is in mourning."

I gave him a confused look.

"Oh, that's right, you just got here. Sorry, I have been too wrapped up in my own problems. A pigeon arrived from the group that went out to Oceanside. Oceanside was completely pillaged, and everyone was taken as slaves as far as they can tell. They found a grave marked with Baron Plimgus's name, and after digging it up, they confirmed that it was him. His heir was hanging from a tree with a wooden plank labeled kinslayer on it. His other son is nowhere to be found. It looks like my family is not the only one with issues."

"It must be something in the heir," I said. My pun fell flat. But the situation made me rub my chin. "Fredrick, it appears that I am in need of someone to run Plimgus until we find the younger son. How would you like to help me out?"

He stared. "You want me to stay here. With that witch of a baroness still lurking around?"

"Actually," I said, "if I'm right, she won't be here much longer. And this is a good place for you to plan your move. If Peter comes looking, you can fight him here and win. Maybe slay him on the battlefield in some dramatic way. I'll write a book about it."

Fredrick's eyes narrowed. "I wasn't planning to fight Vaspar's soldiers. I trained with those men."

"All the better. Would they be more likely to support you or your brother in this conflict?"

That made him pause. And then nodded. "I've already started rumors. Julie's spreading them through Vaspar. The whole county's whispering. If that momentum builds…" He gave another one of those grins as he leaned against the wall. "This could work."

"Good. Now, what do you think about espionage?"

He raised an eyebrow.

I smirked. "We already know you're a terrible diplomat. But maybe, just maybe, you'd make a decent spy."

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