Chapter 387: Eviction Notice
"Well, Sir Hoss, how does the armor feel? I selected it especially for you."
The blackened steel armor had been worn by some ancestor of Pinchpenny's and the set of chain and plate armor had languished in the treasure room for centuries. Its enchantments resized the set to the new owner, and the weight was only a few pounds, yet protected like the finest dwarven steel.
"It fits like a glove, sir like it's part of me. But are you sure about making me a knight? I doubt anyone, including me, thinks I deserve it. I've got no training, and I'm lowborn to boot."
Baron Pinchpenny smiled to himself. He was certain Hoss was correct, that no one else would think he should be made a knight. They had rules, after all, making it difficult for the lowborn to gain even a toehold into the nobility. "It doesn't matter what anyone else thinks, Sir Hoss. I think you deserve to be a knight. You've helped me through a difficult adjustment period, seen to my special needs, and served me loyally. For that, you deserve the honor. The armor is a gift for saving my life, yet again. How many assassins has it been this month? 3 or 4?"
"Six, sir. Two of them I caught while they were scaling the walls with grapple hooks, and cutting the ropes was easy. And the last was a little, sneaky guy. His neck snapped as soon as I grabbed him. I didn't want to cause a fuss and disturb your rest, so I tossed the body out the window. The gardener finds the bodies and tosses them into his compost pile. Waste not, want not."
"Well, good to see them contributing somehow in their deaths. And how are you and the sword getting along?" The sword was on Hoss's back and never far from him. If he didn't put it next to his bed at night, it was laying next to him in the morning, which caused problems with anyone else trying to sleep in the same bed.
"We get along better now, sir. Came to an understanding. She's a lot better at swordplay than I am, so she's in charge during a fight, but she's quit trying to rule my life the rest of the time. It was a little odd at times. My vision goes red, and she's yelling, 'kill, kill, kill,' and I'm only trying to talk to the cook about the dinner menu. We've worked out a schedule and keep to it, and the assassins help a lot. She's just a growing girl and needs her meals. But she's learning to behave."
Pinchpenny smiled again. He wouldn't tell the young man how often that sword had broken those who tried to wield it. Once again, Hoss had risen to the occasion and surprised him. "Well then, if you're ready to go, let us visit our neighbors and allies."
"I'll prepare your carriage, sir, and bring my warhorse. He needs a workout."
"Good, good. Your horse, and maybe your sword as well, will get some exercise."
When the Baron had first expressed a desire to travel, some weeks ago, Hoss had put the few competent craftsmen in the castle to work repairing the dilapidated carriage and harness. They replaced so much of the carriage that it was difficult to say if it was still the same one. Meanwhile, Hoss searched for a team of horses and bought four from the Legion outpost after negotiating. Along with nearly every other job, Hoss was now in charge of finances. Knowing he didn't have a head for numbers, he hired a scribe who did. The man and he got along fine after Hoss gave him an almost decent salary and the promise of a painful death if he cheated him. Hoss would go down to one of the treasure rooms, take out the gold he needed, and turn it over to the scribe. He'd also decided that better relations with the Legion were necessary since nearly all the castle guards were gone. In exchange for a thousand gold coins to use for repairs to the barracks and stables, along with a rent reduction to 1 copper coin per month, the Centurion in charge agreed to staff the castle with guards. The arrangement worked for both he and the Centurion, and the Baron was fine with it, having other things to do now besides squeezing copper pieces until they screamed.
So today, on a somewhat sunny but cold day at the start of winter, Hoss rode along beside the freshly painted and repaired carriage pulled by four black horses as they went to visit the large farm complex a half-day journey down the broken road. It would have normally been only a drive of two hours, but traveling on the area beside the roadbed took more time. In his mind, he questioned who was getting hurt by the bad road. It was true that travel to Gadobhra was slower now, and trade with Northguard had always been meager, owing to the Baron and his taxes, but Hoss wondered if come spring, maybe the Baron would see things a bit differently. It was something to think about during a four-hour ride through the countryside.
As they approached the lands the Baron had ceded to this 'corporation' to build farms that would replace the peasant villages the Baron had been so annoyed with, Hoss called a halt and dismounted to talk to his Baron.
"Something the matter, Sir Hoss?"
Nothing I can put my finger on, but doesn't this place look big to you? Like, really big?" The Baron looked out the window of his coach, noting the long rows of buildings. He'd have assumed from the size they were barns, but there were windows on each of the three levels. Housing of some sort? And why so much for peasants? Chimneys sprouted along the rooftops, indicating many hearths. Beyond these were the actual barns, dozens of them built in long rows, each with a silo for animal fodder. Fields stretched out forever."
"Die."
And they did, like puppets with their strings cut. Bodies fell to the ground, fading as the life was sucked out of them.
Hoss whistled in appreciation. The sword was disappointed and angry, but the fight was over, and she honored their bargain and let him stay in control. The Baron, however, took an unsteady step backward and leaned against the carriage. Hoss hurried to him, concerned.
"Are you ill, sir? Should I get your tonics?" He was already pulling a satchel out of the carriage and handed a large bottle to the Baron, who drank it down.
"Thank you, Hoss. Those people...they aren't real! They have no souls to drain. I expended too much of my power and received little in return." All of the bodies but two faded away, leaving headstones to mark where they fell.
Hoss handed him a second bottle. "Those players we hear about. They'll pop back up at some point. They must hide their souls someplace else."
The Baron stood. "An astute point, Sir Hoss. I have ways of dealing with the Unsouled, and next time I will be prepared. For today, why don't you ride over and convince those peasants to hitch up those wagons they've loaded along with any others? I want them headed back to Northguard with us. Find someone and put him in charge. We're taking as much north as possible before winter sets in. And once the snow clears, I'll want monthly shipments in the spring.
"I'll go see to it, Your Excellency."
The Baron watched as the competent young man rode off, contemplating the new fields and buildings he had just acquired. On the ground were two bodies. One was the scribe, and another was a man in ragged leather armor with a spear. After a few minutes and a mana potion, Pinchpenny had enough for a spell, and the two rose to serve him. "Give me your names, and tell me what you wish to do now with your second chance."
" Jonas ...Barlowe? Uh...the numbers...balance the books, and keep track of it all...my job...."
"Urhuh? hungry eat hungry..."
The baron sighed; one out of two wasn't bad, and the poor fellow might have spoken that way while alive. He cut the string and let the body fall. "Exactly right. You work for me and will continue to do the accounting. Feel free to kill anyone that cheats me." The scribe shuffled off to his desk to get to work. An hour later, Hoss rode back, and behind him were thirty-seven wagons of goods. They were piled high with boxes and barrels of goods that would have fetched a good price.
"All ready to go, sir. I have a hundred folks coming with us, just regular peasants. Alchemarx didn't run off all the peasants, these they put to work here on their farms. I figure we can house them for the winter at Northguard, and I'll put them to work on the castle. There's a lot of cleaning and repairs that need to be done. I'll shift them back to here or or start a new village at Northguard after I skim off the best to work at the castle."
"An excellent plan, Sir Hoss. What do you plan to do with this large farm?"
"Keep doing what they were doing before, sir. Those workers that are left are here for five years and work for Alchemarx, but they don't know what will happen now that we have taken our land back. So I told them just to keep working. They'll prepare the fields for spring, tend to the animals, and cut timber for new buildings and charcoal. I'll be back to check on them in a couple of days. Those Players can walk back from death awfully fast. I may have to kill Mr. Reggie a few more times until he gets the message."
"A sound plan, Sir Hoss. Make it so."
