Against The World

By sunrise, Greykeep had six hundred new builders and nowhere to put them.

This was becoming a tradition.

The Valewood workers entered through the northern gate in organized groups. Surveyors carried measuring chains and bundles of marked stakes. Carpenters arrived with wagons of seasoned timber. Masons brought chisels, hammers, and the particular expressions of people already expecting to find someone else’s work disappointing.

At their head rode a square-jawed man with silver threaded through his beard.

He dismounted near the new water basin and bowed.

“Master Aldren Shaw, chief engineer of House Valewood.”

“Uriah.”

“I know.”

“Most people do now.”

“That is generally what happens when one becomes a king.”

“I am discovering that.”

Aldren looked toward Eleanor.

She stood over the city plans with her arms folded.

He approached her cautiously.

“You must be Mistress Eleanor Stonehand.”

“I must?”

“I studied the bridges your family built across the Dunmar Gorge.”

“My grandfather built those.”

“And you restored the eastern span after the spring flood.”

Eleanor’s expression softened by an amount most people would not have noticed.

I had spent enough time being criticized by her to recognize it.

“You know stonework,” she said.

“I know enough to understand how much I do not know.”

“Good answer.”

They bent over the plans.

Within minutes, they were arguing.

That also seemed promising.

Mary arrived carrying three ledgers, two rolled maps, and a heel of bread she had apparently forgotten to eat.

“You slept,” she said.

“I did.”

“How long?”

“Long enough.”

“How long?”

“Almost three hours.”

Her stare suggested this was not the correct answer.

“It is three more than you had yesterday.”

“That is not how sleep works.”

“It is exactly how counting works.”

She handed me one of the ledgers.

I looked at the page.

Lines of names filled it from top to bottom.

“What am I looking at?”

“The preliminary labor assignments.”

“Why?”

“Because you are about to promise Master Aldren that you will personally raise every foundation in the new district.”

“I was not.”

“You were thinking about it.”

I glanced at the builders unloading their wagons.

“I could save them several days.”

“And teach six hundred workers to wait for you whenever they encounter difficult ground.”

“They came here to help.”

“Then let them.”

I closed the ledger.

“Eleanor spoke to you.”

“At length.”

“That explains why you sound like her.”

“I choose to consider that a compliment.”

“You would.”

Across the field, Eleanor struck the plans with one finger.

“No.”

Aldren leaned closer.

“The western slope gives us more room.”

“It also drains toward the settlement.”

“We can cut diversion trenches.”

“Until the first serious storm fills them.”

“The soil is stable.”

“The surface is stable. The old foundations beneath it are not.”

Aldren looked toward me.

“Your Majesty, perhaps you could settle this.”

Eleanor looked at me too.

So did Mary.

I considered pretending I had not heard him.

Instead, I walked over.

“What is the disagreement?”

Aldren pointed to the western side of the plan.

“We can place thirty longhouses here and complete them within eight days.”

“Six,” Eleanor said.

He frowned.

“You said the location was unsuitable.”

“It is unsuitable. I can still build faster than you.”

“That is not the point.”

“No. But it is true.”

I placed both hands on the edge of the plan.

“What is beneath the western slope?”

“Ruins,” Eleanor said. “Possibly old cellars. Possibly drainage tunnels. The Castellan’s records for that section are incomplete.”

Aldren tapped the eastern side.

“The alternative is farther from the castle and requires another bridge across the stream.”

“But the ground is safer,” Eleanor said.

“How much longer?”

“Four days.”

I looked toward the crowded tents.

Four days meant families sleeping outside longer.

It also meant we would not build thirty houses over hidden tunnels.

“The eastern site,” I said.

Aldren’s disappointment was obvious.

“Your Majesty, with your magic, the western foundations could be stabilized.”

“Probably.”

Eleanor grunted.

“You use that word too often.”

“But if every foundation needs me to hold it together, we have not built houses. We have built a problem that looks like houses.”

Mary smiled.

Eleanor nodded once.

Aldren studied me.

Then he rolled up the western plan.

“The eastern site.”

That decision created seventeen additional problems.

We needed a bridge.

The bridge required stone.

The nearest useful quarry had been abandoned after part of its access road collapsed.

Repairing the road required laborers.

The laborers needed food.

The kitchens were already struggling to feed nearly six thousand people.

Beatrice informed us of this by striking a ladle against an empty grain barrel.

The sound echoed through the castle kitchen.

“That,” she said, “is tomorrow’s breakfast.”

I looked into the barrel.

“There is nothing in it.”

“Exactly.”

“What about the Westmere grain?”

“Three wagons arrived this morning. Two went to the infirmary and the third is being milled.”

“How long will it last?”

“Until tomorrow evening.”

Mary consulted her ledger.

“Valewood’s supply convoy should arrive within two days.”

“Should?” Beatrice asked.

“Assuming the northern road remains clear.”

Beatrice pointed her ladle at me.

“You cannot feed people with assumptions.”

“I know.”

“You cannot feed them with magic either.”

“I also know that.”

“Good. Then find me grain.”

She returned to a steaming pot.

I looked at Mary.

“Is she always like this?”

“Yes.”

“I like her.”

“So does everyone she feeds.”

The kitchen doors opened.

Evelyn entered wearing a dark green traveling cloak. Her silver tree brooch had been returned to its place at her shoulder.

Two Valewood guards followed her.

I had known she planned to leave.

That did not make me happy about it.

“You are going home,” I said.

“For a short time.”

“To report on the king.”

Her mouth curved slightly.

“Among other things.”

“That sounds threatening.”

“It is only threatening if you gave me something unpleasant to report.”

I thought about everything she had witnessed.

The overcrowded settlement.

The broken walls.

The contaminated well.

My decision to enter Harwick’s citadel with five people and no clear plan for leaving.

“I may have given you several things.”

“Yes.”

Beatrice filled a bowl and placed it in front of Evelyn.

“You are too thin.”

Evelyn blinked.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Eat before you leave.”

“I had breakfast.”

“Then have another.”

Evelyn looked at me as if I might help.

I took a piece of bread from the nearest tray.

“She is difficult to defeat.”

Beatrice pointed the ladle at me.

“That was not offered.”

I put the bread back.

Evelyn sat.

Mary hid a smile.

We joined her at the kitchen table while Beatrice supervised her meal from across the room.

“What will you tell your parents?” I asked.

“The truth.”

“That Greykeep is one bad week away from starvation?”

“That its food supply is dangerously low.”

“That sounds more official.”

“It is the same truth.”

“What else?”

Evelyn lowered her spoon.

“That Greykeep has returned.”

I waited.

She continued.

“Not merely the castle. Not only the Crown. Its laws carry authority again. Its gates are opening. Its people are coming home.”

“And the king?”

Her gaze met mine.

For once, she did not answer immediately.

I became very aware that I had not changed clothes since Westmere.

There was dried mud on one sleeve.

My hair had probably surrendered several hours ago.

“He is not what we expected,” she said.

“Is that good?”

“I believe it may be.”

Something in her expression changed.

It was subtle.

Warmth where there had once been careful judgment.

Then Mary shifted beside me, and Evelyn looked back at her bowl.

“I will ask my father to release additional grain from our southern estates,” she said. “My mother controls the family’s textile houses. She can send blankets, canvas, and winter clothing.”

“Winter is still months away.”

“With nearly six thousand people, months are not a long time.”

“That sounds like something Mary would say.”

“It is.”

Mary nodded approvingly.

“Your parents will agree?” I asked.

“My father will argue.”

“That is less encouraging.”

“He argues before agreeing. It allows him to pretend the decision was difficult.”

“And your mother?”

“My mother will ask what Valewood receives in return.”

“Also less encouraging.”

“Tell me what you can offer.”

I thought about it.

Greykeep had land.

Damaged roads.

Empty towers.

More work than people could finish in years.

“We can guarantee Valewood merchants equal access to the new market,” I said. “Not exclusive access.”

“Good.”

“We can reopen the northern transit route once the Castellan confirms it is safe.”

“Better.”

“And we can recognize the current Valewood boundaries.”

Evelyn became still.

Mary looked at me sharply.

House Valewood had once governed Greykeep’s eastern territories. After the old kingdom fell, its lands had expanded.

Some of that territory might have belonged to Greykeep.

Recognizing it meant giving up a potential claim.

“You would do that?” Evelyn asked.

“If the people living there accept Valewood’s rule.”

“That condition may trouble my father.”

“Then he can argue before agreeing.”

She laughed.

Not the small, controlled laugh I had heard before.

A real one.

It changed her entire face. She was exceptionally beautiful when she wasn’t scowling.

For several seconds, I forgot about the empty grain barrels.

Evelyn noticed me looking.

Her cheeks colored.

She turned toward Mary.

“I should leave.”

“You have not finished eating,” Beatrice called.

Evelyn immediately returned to the bowl.

I decided I liked Beatrice even more.

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