Husa'an crouched down to Rowan's eye level, his expression growing more serious
despite the smile still playing at the corners of his mouth.
"Any friend of Kaelen's is a friend of mine, lad. But tell me true, are you here by
choice, or did this old wanderer drag you along?"
Rowan glanced at Kaelen, then back at Husa'an.
"By choice. My village... my family..."
He paused, gathering his words.
"I want to fight. To make things better."
The room grew quiet. Even Nadeen stopped fidgeting with her cloak clasp. Husa'an's
eyes searched Rowan's face, weighing the boy's resolve.
"Fighting isn't just swinging a sword, boy. It's knowing when to strike and when to
wait. When to speak and when to listen."
Husa'an stood, his voice carrying the
weight of experience.
"But I can see you understand that already."
Kaelen stepped forward.
"He's learned much on the road. More than most his age should have to."
"By the way, Husa'an,"
Kaelen said,
"we have been followed for a while now. There's this guard that keeps showing up in the
towns we visit. He was working for the Crown, but since I cut his hand off, he works solo. I think he cares only
about revenge."
Husa'an's eyes narrowed.
"A lone guard, driven by vengeance, can be more dangerous than an army. We must be
cautious. Do you know his name? Describe him."
Kaelen nodded.
"He's tall, broad-shouldered, messy dark hair, but the most distinctive thing is the
hand. His beloved king rewarded him with a metal prosthetic hand."
"Last time we saw him was when we left Mirefield. We slipped away at night, but he might
have figured out where we were headed. We need to be careful in Greyharbor."
"Have your men keep an eye out for him. If he shows up, we need to be ready to deal with
him quickly. We can't afford any distractions right now."
"The roads teach hard lessons,"
Husa'an agreed.
"Is he the reason why this little guy went to follow your steps, Kaelen?"
He looked at
Rowan, who nodded silently.
He gestured toward the table covered in maps and documents.
"Come, both of you. There's much to discuss, and little time to waste."
As they gathered around the table, Rowan noticed the maps showed more than just
Greyharbor. Red marks dotted various locations throughout the region, connected by thin lines drawn
in different colored inks. Some areas were crossed out entirely.
"The situation's changed since your last letter,"
Husa'an said to
Kaelen, pointing to several of the red marks.
"Three more villages have fallen under direct Crown control. They're building more of
those 'Houses of Correction' faster than we anticipated."
The king's newest move was made to cover his worsening popularity among the common folk by starting another war.
Hoping for people to forget his disgusting past of molestation and abuse of power, he started a war with the
neighboring kingdom of Eldoria, a conflict based on fabricated claims. The Crown's propaganda
machine was in overdrive, painting the war as a noble cause to protect the realm from foreign threats.
Nadeen moved closer to the table, her pale eyes reflecting the lamplight.
"The people don't resist anymore. They welcome the Crown's protection, even when it
means giving up their freedom."
"Fear does that,"
Kaelen said quietly.
"Fear and hunger make people grateful for chains, if the chains come with promises of
bread."
Rowan studied the map, recognizing some of the names. Places he'd heard travelers mention, villages
that had once been prosperous. Now they were marked in red, conquered.
"What about the resistance cells?"
Kaelen asked.
"How many are still active?"
Husa'an's expression darkened.
"Fewer than we'd hoped. The Crown's getting better at rooting us out. They've
started offering rewards for information about 'seditious activities.' Neighbor turns on neighbor for a handful
of copper."
"And the nobles? The merchant houses?"
"Most have bent the knee completely. Those who haven't..."
Husa'an drew a finger across his throat.
"The Crown doesn't
negotiate anymore. It's submission or elimination."
Rowan felt a chill run down his spine. This was the reality Kaelen had been
preparing him for, a world where resistance meant death, where hope was a luxury few could afford.
"But not everyone has given up,"
Nadeen said, her voice
carrying a note of defiance.
"There are still those willing to fight. We just need
to find them, organize them properly."
"Why don't we just take down the king?"
Rowan blurted
out, his youthful idealism shining through.
"If we get rid of him, maybe things will
change."
Husa'an shook his head.
"It's not that simple, lad. The king is just one part of a much larger system. Even
if we were to remove him, he's well guarded, and there are others who would step in to take his place."
A short moment of silence as Husa'an thought about his lost comrades, then he continued.
"The so-called king had two of my best men and friends executed about two years ago
when we first attempted assassination. They were caught and tortured for information, but they never broke. The
king had them publicly executed as a warning to others. It was then when we lost a third of our followers. The
fear of that kind of punishment has kept many from joining us since. Not that we would be that public..."
Little Rowan's face fell. But it was now when his current exhaustion gave in.
"You seem tired, lad. Maybe you should rest for a bit. We have a long road ahead of
us, and you'll need your strength."
Husa'an's voice softened, showing a rare moment
of concern.
Rowan nodded, grateful for the reprieve.
"I think I will. But... "
"Come with me,"
Nadeen interrupted, her tone gentle but
firm.
"I can show you to a room where you can rest. It's not much, but it's
safe."
Rowan looked at Husa'an, who nodded in agreement.
"Go ahead, Nadeen. I'll stay here and go over the plans with Kaelen."
Nadeen led Rowan out of the room.
"Nadeen has it for you, Kaelen. She's trying her best to look as skilled as
possible, to appeal."
Husa'an's eyes twinkled with a hint of amusement.
"No, I'm not trying to set you up with her! I just think you should be aware of her
affection. She only heard stories about you, and now that she finally met you, she's smitten."
And after a short pause, Husa'an added,
"She - if not for the cause, she would fight for you."
"I will keep that in mind,"
Kaelen said, a small smile
tugging at his lips.
"She guided us well. I can see why you trust her."
"Either way, we need to think of a plan."
Meanwhile, Nadeen led Rowan through the winding corridors of the safe house,
eventually stopping in front of a modest door.
"This is your room, Rowan. You will share it with Robert and a few others. They're
good people, and they'll look out for you while you rest."
As she opened the door, laughter and distinguished articulated speech could be heard. Inside, the group had made a
makeshift podium out of crates and barrels, where a few of the older members were acting out a play. It was a satire
of the king and his court, mocking their incompetence and corruption. The room was filled with laughter, a rare
moment of levity in their grim reality.
Nobody noticed Nadeen and Rowan enter.
"And I say! Under my rule, everyone shall face consequences for their actions! Especially the
molesters and abusers! I will make sure they are punished to the fullest extent of the law!"
one of
the actors shouted, mimicking the king's grandiose speeches. The audience erupted in laughter, the absurdity of the
performance providing a brief escape from their harsh lives.
Another actor, playing the role of an advisor, whispered aloud to the king,
"But sire, you are a proven molester and abuser yourself, surely the claim must be changed to
'especially the molesters and abusers, but not you, sire!'"
The crowd roared with laughter, the
satire hitting close to home for many of them.
Rowan couldn't help but chuckle along with them, the
humor providing a much-needed respite from the weight of their situation. As the play continued, he found himself
feeling a sense of camaraderie with these strangers, united in their shared defiance against the oppressive regime.
Another actor, acting as multiple plebeians, shouted
"Oh, we love the king, for he gives us moldy bread and muddy water! We are so grateful for his
protection!"
The audience laughed again, completely overshadowing
Rowan's
appearance.
"Don't worry about it, Rowan,"
Nadeen said with a smile.
"They're just having fun. It's important to keep our spirits up, even in the darkest
times."
"But worst of all, it's actually a tad funny,"
she added with a chuckle.
"The king's propaganda is so ridiculous that it's hard not to laugh at it. We have
to find humor in the absurdity of our situation, or else we'd go mad."
Rowan nodded, understanding the importance of finding moments of joy amidst the struggle.
"I guess you're right. It's just... hard to see the humor sometimes when everything
feels so bleak."
Nadeen's expression softened.
"I know, Rowan. It's not easy for any of us."
Nadeen then found a place to sit with Rowan, since currently he would not fall
asleep anyway. They stayed through the entire play, occasionally laughing at the irony. It was a bad play, bad
acting, but it was that much funnier because of it. It was sincere.
The play ended, and the audience applauded, some even cheering. The actors took a bow, their faces beaming with pride
in their performance. The spirits were lifted.
Such a small thing, a moment of connection, and it already lifted the morale of everyone involved.
Now the folk started to notice Rowan and Nadeen.
"Hey, who's this?"
one of the older members asked, his eyes narrowing as he looked at
Rowan.
"Is this the kid Kaelen brought in?"
Nadeen nodded,
"Yes, this is Rowan. He's here to help us fight against the Crown. He's been through
a lot, but he's determined to make a difference."
The older member looked at Rowan for a moment, then nodded.
"Well, welcome to the end of the world, kid!"
Rowan smiled weakly, trying to hide his nerves.
"Thank you. I'm glad to be here."
The older member clapped Rowan on the back.
"Don't worry, kid. You'll fit right in! In - in here, somewhere, you know."
He gestured
around the room, indicating the group of rebels.
Some of the other members helped with the cleanup, introduced themselves, and left to their duties and other rooms.
Nadeen stayed with Rowan for a while longer, chatting with him about his past, his
hopes for the future, and what he wanted to do to help the cause. It was a comforting conversation, and it helped
Rowan feel more at home in this new environment.
Then Robert came in.
"Yo, Rowan! I've heard you sleep here now!"
Robert was a tall, lanky
man with a scruffy beard and a mischievous grin. He was one of the more lighthearted members of the group, always trying
to keep the mood up with jokes and pranks.
"Yeah, I guess so,"
Rowan replied, still feeling a bit
overwhelmed by everything.
"Well, if you need som'thing, just let me know!"
Robert said with a
grin.
"And I wouldn't mind helpin' ya as well, lassy,"
he added, winking at
Nadeen, who rolled her eyes but couldn't help but smile at
Robert's antics.
"Thanks, Robert. We appreciate it."
replied
Nadeen with
a lowering tone hinting at her annoyance.
"No problem, Nadeen! I'm always here to help!"
Robert said with a
chuckle. Then he went to his bed, shuffled something around in his nightstand, grabbed some stuff, and left the room
with a loud
"goodnight, everyone!"
Nadeen helped Rowan get settled and then left him to rest.
Kaelen and Husa'an bent over the map once more. The room felt larger without
Rowan's restless presence.
"The mill contact. What can he actually do?"
Kaelen asked,
tracing a finger along one of the colored lines.
"Patrol schedules. Supply manifests. Movement orders before they're posted."
Husa'an straightened.
"He's careful. Knows the risk. Been
feeding me information for months."
"The Eldoria campaign, how deep is the Crown pulling from the garrisons here?"
Husa'an's expression shifted.
"Deep enough that the Houses of Correction are running short on overseers. They've
been pulling seasoned men west for the front. What's left at the Yards are fresh appointments. Younger.
Greener."
Kaelen said nothing for a moment. Just looked at the map.
And then Nadeen returned, stepping through the door with her hood still half-up.
"What did I miss, boys?"
But she blushed when
Kaelen
looked at her in response.
"You missed a lot, Nadeen! We planned a wedding ceremony, horse carriages, a feast
and dancing! It was quite the night!"
Husa'an said with a hearty laugh, teasing
Nadeen about her apparent romantic interest in
Kaelen.
Nadeen reacted, blushing furiously and stammering,
"W-what? -"
Interrupted by Kaelen, who stopped Husa'an's teasing with a raised hand.
"Stop it, Husa'an."
Not angry, nor annoyed.
"I'm sorry, Nadeen, for Husa'an."
But Nadeen shook her head, still blushing. She mumbled something unintelligible, but it was clear
she was trying to deflect the attention away from herself.
She moved to the table. Composed herself visibly. Then pulled a folded parchment from her cloak pocket and laid it
flat.
It looked indistinguishable from the Crown's official announcements. The weight, the color, the seal pressed into
the bottom right corner with practiced precision.
"I've worked on this for months,"
she said quietly.
"I can replicate the seal. The script. The spacing. I've memorized every bulletin
posted in this city."
Husa'an leaned over to study it. His eyebrows climbed.
"What I want to forge isn't a pamphlet,"
Nadeen
continued, steadier now, the blush fading as her mind took over.
"The Crown is
pulling soldiers west for Eldoria. Every garrison is being drained. So, what if there was an
order, properly sealed, formally worded, conscripting the labor gangs from the Houses of Correction into the
campaign? Workers reassigned to the front. Construction suspended until further notice."
A silence settled over the room.
"The Mirefield Yard stops,"
Kaelen said
slowly.
"Workers scatter. The overseers have no authority to hold them if the order
comes from the Crown itself. And every other Yard that receives a copy..."
"Months,"
Nadeen said.
"Maybe more. And they blame the war, not us."
Husa'an let out a low whistle. Then his eyes narrowed.
"There's a problem. The garrison commander here, he's thorough. He'd send a rider to
verify before acting on any order that reassigns his labor. If he traces a forged document back to
Greyharbor..."
He didn't finish.
"Then the order needs to already be in the ledger before it reaches him,"
Kaelen said. He looked at
Husa'an.
"Your contact, can
he log an incoming order before it's formally reviewed? Make it look like it came through proper channels?"
Husa'an was quiet a moment.
"...Maybe. It asks a lot of him."
"Ask him. Don't pressure him. He says no, we find another way."
Kaelen turned back to the map.
"The market scheme, keep it. The war has dried up grain. The Crown is requisitioning
supplies for the front already. Prices are climbing on their own. We buy what's left in the villages along the
trade route, sell to the poor at cost, to the Crown's suppliers at a premium. The resentment falls where it
belongs."
"They started the war,"
Nadeen said.
"We're just opportunists, the same as their own merchants."
Then Theresa, who had been quietly listening to the conversation, spoke up with her slow and cranky
voice.
"Young mind is brilliant and sharp indeed. But does not consider that this uncommon
behavior might attract the unwanted attention of the Crown towards this very city."
She said it
without accusation.
"We remain hidden in the shadow of the candle. That is our
protection."
"None of this touches Greyharbor directly,"
she
continued.
"But test it first at Rivergate. I know the garrison
commander there. A vain man, easily satisfied, desperate to appear competent to his superiors. If a forged
conscription order arrives and halts construction, he will not investigate it. He will write to the capital
praising the king's wise allocation of resources."
A dry pause.
"He is precisely the kind of fool who turns our forgery into their official record."
Kaelen looked at her for a moment.
"If it holds in Rivergate, we know the document works. If it fails, the
damage stays there. Greyharbor stays clean."
"Precisely."
"One more thing,"
Kaelen said, turning to
Husa'an.
"The Officer. When you brief your men tomorrow, include him.
Metal prosthetic hand, broad-shouldered, dark hair. He's not working for the Crown anymore. No backup, no
orders. But that makes him harder to predict, not easier."
"I'll have the gate men watching by morning,"
Husa'an
said.
Kaelen knew Theresa for years, and he respected her wisdom and experience.
Nowadays, she had become feeble and slow. Age finally caught up to her, but her mind was still sharp as ever.
Before they continued to discuss more of their plans, Kaelen shifted a nearby armchair towards
Theresa and gestured for her to sit down. Even if proud and a little stubborn, she knew her current
state and understood the gesture. She sat down with a sigh, grateful for the comfort.
"Thank you, Kaelen. I appreciate it."
she said with a tired smile.
A night of careful discussions and planning followed, with Kaelen, Husa'an,
Nadeen, and Theresa working together to come up with a strategy for their next
move.
It's right at the brink of dawn they left for their rooms. Kaelen had his own room in the place for
years now. Everyone respected his place within the group, the mutual history. And to his surprise, his room was
untouched this whole time. Even dust and spiders took place within.
The familiar place brought back memories and helped Kaelen overcome the annoyance of cleaning up
before he could rest. But as he sat down, done with the work, he immediately blacked out.
Exhaustion from everything in the latest weeks caught up, and in this environment, Kaelen finally
had some peace to rest.
