by John Olsen
Master Quincy folded his arms and leaned forward. “This is all highly irregular. Coming up with the budgets for this will be —”
Draken interrupted him. “It will still be your job to manage the grain harvest and trade. Everyone here needs to adjust, to prepare for what may come.” He looked around the room. “Each of you send a status report of your responsibilities in the morning. That will tell us where we stand.”
A rumble of agreement surrounded the table, although some joined in later than others.
Why had Draken insisted Gavin run this council meeting when Draken knew better how to do the job? Perhaps Draken had shifted to a different form of training, to show Gavin what was required to stand in for his father. There was no dodging the training this time.
Oddly enough, Gavin didn’t want to skip out. He saw better how things worked, and how each choice had an impact on real people within the barony. It was his job, temporary or not, to give the people what they needed to keep them fed, housed, and safe. They weren’t just people. They were his people.
Gavin moved to the next agenda item. Despite Draken’s warning the night before, he said, “We still lack information on my father and brother, and need to learn what happened. We need to send scouts. I know I have duties here, but it’s my family and our baron that’s missing. How many searchers can we spare?”
Several of the Masters glanced back and forth all around the table. It was Gavin’s first clue he’d misspoken.
Master Smith slapped his meaty hand down on the table. “We just heard how short we are on guards. Are you daft, boy? You can’t have it both ways. We don’t have dozens of people to go traipsing across the countryside.”
Draken stared daggers at Master Smith until he sheepishly added, “Sir. My apologies. I got carried away. What I meant to say is that we need every spare body here. As our Baron Regent, you listen to us then make the hard choices. Everyone’s heard your father is missing along with your brother. It’s got us on edge.”
Draken nodded. “If I may, sir? Master Smith has a good point, even with his lack of manners. I believe I’m the best candidate to confirm or debunk the information. No team is necessary. I know every game trail within a day’s ride. I’ve traveled nearly all of them with the baron. I know where he’d go if he’s managed to escape the ambush. I’ve cared for the baron’s injured wolf since before the trip, so I’m attuned to her crystal. I’ll take her with me. That leaves you free to be seen here, which will ease the growing fear in the village.”
He used the same tone as before, issuing instructions while making it sound like he asked for permission. At least it seemed as if he was asking permission to go. It was clear that Gavin wasn’t going anywhere.
Gavin nodded. “Very well. This is Stoutheart Barony. As the only Stoutheart here I will make myself seen, and keep everything moving forward. Master Draken, do what you can to find them.” The choice made the most sense, even though his heart wasn’t in it. He wanted to be out searching, but he would do this for the people. They deserved his best, despite him not feeling very inspirational under the cloud of concern over his family.
* * *
Gavin sat at his table and looked idly at the burned-out candle stub in the alcove. Draken paced the floor.
Draken said, “That wasn’t quite a disaster. Close, but not quite.”
“What? I thought it went pretty well.”
Draken looked up at the ceiling for a few seconds before he spoke. “Your job is to prepare for the worst while hoping for the best: weapon storage, increasing stores from the fletchers, and ordinary things at the same time, too, like the harvest and pest control at the granary. But that’s what this council is for. Part of your job, sir, is to be confident and be seen by the people. They need someone to follow, more now than ever.”
“I’ll tour and mingle while you’re gone to improve morale. I won’t just sit around, despite what you think of me.”
Draken flipped his chair around and sat. Gavin had never been brave enough before, but now he asked, “Why do you always do that with your chair?”
“People in this country don’t know how to make a proper chair. This is as close as I can get to the way they use them in the wild lands. Maybe I’ll build a proper chair one of these years and show you.”
Gavin made note of their give and take. Gavin offered to be more responsible, and Draken opened up more as he would to a friend. Gavin wanted to ask more, but they had work to do. “You think I let you down in the meeting. What did you learn from it?” If nothing else, Gavin needed to identify his failures and correct them.
Draken said, “Let me fill you in on the things you didn’t see, and a little on why you missed it. You need to be more aware of what’s going on around you.”
Gavin snorted. “You realize I’ve never spoken with most of those men before, right? Fine. What did I miss?”
Draken held up one finger. “You have Captain Zachary eating out of your hand because you asked for his advice, which your father hasn’t done in over a decade. I’ll give you points for that one, but it seemed like an accidental win.”
He raised a second finger. “On the other hand, Master Quincy is learning to hate you because you’re impacting his ability to squeeze extra rent out of the farmers from their personal crops on the baron’s land. They all try to grow a little extra and skim it for themselves. If they harvest quickly, he doesn’t have time to visit before they’ve stored their private stashes and delivered the barony’s quota.”
He raised a third finger. “Master Smith still sees you as the little boy who hammered his finger black and blue at eight years old, but at least he wants to take you under his wing and be helpful.”
Gavin thought back to the conversations and body language and saw that he missed all the information Draken had gleaned from the visible hints. He had not paid attention to the right things. Now he knew more what to watch for. He might not catch everything the next time, but it wouldn’t be for lack of trying.
Draken said, “Again, your job is to be seen and to be confident as much as your job is to lead. More importantly, you must always be aware. You need to direct people and get out of their way. You’re to act as the mind and soul of the barony. You’re not the feet, or the hands, or even the eyes and ears. Others feed you the information, and you decide what to do.”
Gavin said, “It appears dodging all that combat training is about to pay off if I’m meant to run the barony from here, away from fighting and danger.”
Master Draken gave him a withering glare. “Yes, but you must also be seen to care. Do you?”
Gavin glared at Draken for the rebuke which hit too close to home. He cared about the people, perhaps more than anyone in his family because he spent more time among them, but he had never been able to make a difference before. He caught on that thought. He had a fresh chance to do what was best for the people. As Draken implied, the decisions all fed back to him. He could make a difference. He would make a difference.
Draken stood and walked to the door. “I expect to be no more than three days on this scouting mission. Don’t accidentally burn the castle to the ground while I’m gone, sir.”
“You’re still bringing that up? The fire wasn’t my fault. I never could convince you, or my father, I didn’t start it.” Gavin understood Draken meant well, but his strict methods and rough exterior rubbed people the wrong way, and Gavin was the most frequent target of his insults and insinuations. But Gavin expected nothing better after he’d ignored Draken, disobeyed him, and returned insults freely for years. He had been so caught up with not being the heir that he hadn’t been much of anything.
But, things were different now. Gavin had to build a working relationship with Draken and with a whole council. Even if Draken found his father, and Gavin reverted to the ignored second son, things would never be the same. It might not be permanent, but he had no choice but to step up. He owed an obligation nobody else at the castle was qualified to fill. Not an obligation to
his father, but to the people who had supported and befriended him as he had grown up.
Gavin embraced the job at hand and said, “If you find my father and bring him back, the two of you can take turns telling me what I did wrong. I’m sure it will be a long list.” Yes, things were going to change.
* * *
Without food, the barony was nothing. Gavin felt a need to check on the granaries and food supplies, after visiting the main wall and the trade carts, with Jase following along behind as a personal guard and assistant. It hadn’t occurred to Gavin that his father always had an armed shadow, and the constant escort made him uneasy. It had seemed second nature for his father to always have a guard ready at hand, sometimes to do nothing more than stand and frown while wearing a sword. For him, it seemed a terribly inefficient use of time.
Jase picked up his pace to walk beside Gavin. “I received word the Tanners arrived while you were in council.”
Gavin nodded. “Thank you. I want to visit them later.”
Two servants in the courtyard stood aside to make way as he walked past, which came as a surprise. Before, he had gone wherever he wanted without anyone paying particular attention, and he was the one who dodged those who walked with purpose. He wasn’t sure whether he should say something to them or not. Did one thank people for getting out of the way? He was sure Jase would frown on it.
Word of his arrival preceded him along the entire path to the granary. Despite wearing his usual breeches, shirt, and vest, everyone noticed him. He nodded and waved to acquaintances who were oddly distant, yet respectful. As a middle-ground decision, he smiled when people acknowledged him.
The granary stood behind the main barony castle, but within the outer wall for protection. Gavin bypassed the stand-alone silos for storing corn and wheat and entered the wing of storage rooms filled with bags of flour and barrels of pickles and other sundries. Salted meats hung from the rafters, and barrels of ale were stacked and stored against the coming fall and winter. The air smelled of meal and vinegar.
Jase led Gavin to a small door. “The rat catcher lives here. He can tell you about the granary.” Jase knocked, and the door opened immediately.
A scrawny boy of sixteen stood at attention inside. “Baron Stoutheart. Thank you for visiting, sir! I’m Willem. What may I do for you?” It was a well-starched speech, as if he’d given it before. Maybe it was how the boy addressed the old baron.
Gavin had only seen him out and about once or twice. The boy either kept to himself or was too busy to join with friends.
“Tell me about the granary, Willem. What do you do here?” If Gavin stuck to open-ended questions on his tour, he could leave all the hard thinking up to the people he met.
“As the rat catcher, I guard against pests, not just rats. Things like mice, bats, and bugs. I protect the stored food within the castle walls.” He stood straight and looked Gavin in the eye, obviously proud of his position.
Gavin glanced around the poorly lit room. Willem occupied a tiny sleeping area barely large enough for one person, with a cot and makeshift table next to a small fireplace. “You do this alone? You catch all the vermin?”
“Yes, but I get help from Doom Bringer, Death Claw, and Skull Crusher. That’s Doom Bringer up there.” He pointed to the top of a stack of crates where Gavin spotted a black shadow with green eyes. The cat stood and stretched, and then hopped down from one box to the next until he head-butted Willem’s leg and walked past to plop down onto a pile of rags beside the small cot.
“Well, from the looks of you, you’re certainly not raiding the pantry.” Gavin considered Willem’s wiry frame and smiled at his own joke before realizing it was rude to point out Willem’s poor state.
“Oh, no. Of course not. I’d never dream of it. I eat what I can get from hunting or trading, sir.”
Gavin looked around and saw no hunting equipment. “What is it you hunt?”
“I already told you. Sometimes they’ll bring down a pigeon, too.”
Did he consider squab a special treat? This wouldn’t do. Gavin made a mental note to have the cooks set aside some fresh bread and cheese for Willem. “Thank you. Keep up the good work. I’m sure your effort helps a great deal. It’s been a while since I thought of all the hard work that goes into running all the daily details of the castle. I’ll get back with you soon.”
Gavin would give compliments and build friendships wherever he found them. He needed allies and information sources, even among the lowest of the common laborers. He was responsible for everyone, after all.
Jase scowled as they walked, so Gavin said, “What’s bothering you? Is it Willem’s condition, or my response?”
“I know that look in your eye. He’s been there a few years now. If Master Draken comes back with your father, it won’t go well for you if you change how things are run.”
“You’re right. Thank you for your concern, but I owe the people my best, not what my father would do. If my father doesn’t like the things I change, he’ll tell me when he gets back. Loudly and several times.”
Gavin thought a great deal about the idea of allies as he traversed the main hall on his way to the cattle pens. He had misread or failed to notice many of the signals at the council meeting, and he risked losing their trust and cooperation if he didn’t learn from the experience. He wouldn’t fail like that again with the council or with the people at large.
Even if his father came back tomorrow, Gavin was better equipped to set goals and meet them rather than slide by with minimal effort as he had done for years. He was determined to do something to make a difference, to make life better for the people. For his people. Lurking in the shadow of his brother had never gotten him anywhere, and now he was in charge and on full public display, for good or for ill.
* * *
Gavin came to a stop near a corner off the main hall as he pondered his new influence. Lack of sleep had made him easily distracted, but the voices of servants in the main hall brought him back to his current errand.
“Pshaw. He don’t look strong to me, but he’s got a heart of gold. I don’t know how he whipped the council into shape when he’s still in mourning. I hear he burned candles all night long.”
A second voice replied, “No, I’m telling you. The new Baron Stoutheart ain’t one to be messed with. I heard he killed a bear and two men with nothing but a short blade. He’s stronger than he looks. Did you hear he’s hiding a stab wound? There’s a hole right through the armor he wore as he arrived, but he’s walking about like nothing’s wrong.”
Gavin motioned to Jase to move back quietly and then spoke in a loud voice as they approached the hall for the second time. “Jase, when we get to the pens, I would like to talk to the Tanners in private for a few moments.”
They rounded the corner as Jase replied, “Of course, sir.”
Two of the household servants were on their knees with heads down, scrubbing furiously at the floor. They didn’t glance up as Gavin and Jase passed them.
Once out of earshot, Gavin asked, “You didn’t say anything to anyone last night about the candles or armor, did you?”
He’d never believed his father’s paranoia about the flow of information being the key to power, but now he began to understand. These wild stories about him could impact his ability to make choices and enforce orders if people got the wrong idea. Stories always got more outrageous as they passed from mouth to ear.
Jase raised an eyebrow. “Of course not, sir. Well over a dozen people saw you arrive, and several servants helped to fetch the candles for you or saw someone else involved. I didn’t say who they were for. Someone made assumptions.”
Gavin’s mistakes from his meeting motivated him to listen and watch for signals. He listened to Jase’s tone and watched his body language for clues. Jase was obviously appalled at the idea he would spread any gossip learned through his post.
Gavin tapped a finger on his chin. “I think it’s time you start saying more, but selectively. These rumors ar
e sheer idiocy and have to stop. I’m not the baron yet. I didn’t get run through with a blade, and the bear–”
“If I may be bold, sir, you can’t catch up to a rumor once it’s started. These sound harmless to me.”
Gavin grimaced. “Maybe I’ll start some true stories to make up for all the false ones, then. Gavin never got stabbed. Gavin can’t fly or eat rocks for breakfast. How about this: I never wanted those two men to die.”
As they passed the hall’s exit, the guard there snapped to stiff attention and said, “Sir.” Gavin hadn’t seen such a formal response, even to his father, in years.
Jase broke his stern guard visage with a quick grin. “It seems the guard staff will be receptive to your direction. Captain Zachary has spoken to the men about you.”
When they got to the cattle pens, the beasts had been let out to pasture for the day. Runner would earn his keep, chasing the cattle from pen to field and back every day. Gavin finally found the Tanners at the edge of the outside pasture.
Jase kept a watchful eye on the area, barely out of earshot as Tover waved and came over to talk. “Baron Stoutheart. To what do we owe the pleasure?”
“Really? Unless I miss my guess, you probably changed my soiled pants more than once when I was a toddler. When my mother died, you and your family filled in quite often. Must you still be so formal all the time?”
“No, good sir, but my parents taught me manners. I do my best to keep them.”
Gavin lowered his gaze as red crept up his cheeks. Tover was right. “Could you at least not call me Baron Stoutheart? My father may still be out there and on his way back.”
“As you wish, good sir.” Tover nodded to emphasize his compliance.
“I burned a candle last night for Ned. Shall I send candles for you and Saleena? You seem pretty busy with the cattle.”
“No, sir. We’ll be fine. Saleena lit candles for Ned and your family as soon as we got back, but she’s still awful quiet and wants to be alone a lot. I’ll get by herding the cattle without her for the moment. I’m younger than your father was, after all. Um, I mean, younger than he is.” There was an awkward pause.