Authors: Andrew Wood
Two small pictures hung on the wall, as a pitiful attempt to make it more homely, and a small rug had been thrown across the floor by the fireplace. The pictures were simple watercolour scenes and the rug woollen. On the desk, aside from the pile of papers, stood a lamp, a few candles and a simple writing set.
The windows behind them allowed enough natural sunlight to make the use of lamps redundant. Since the return of the older prince, work had been carried out around the clock in an attempt at speeding up the process. Despite the faint sound of hammering and sawing, it was all very near completion on the top floor.
Work was now taking place on the floor below. This had been set aside for a royal meeting and dining room, kitchen, larders and a number of small staff quarters. These were simple rooms allocated to any of the important house staff. The floor below that, was to be set aside for a large hall, and was hoped because of that, it would not take long to finish. The ground and first floors were to be allocated to the offices of state, and home to those staff who dealt with such matters. The treasury had already been completed, and cleaning up of the dungeons below ground level had proved simple enough.
A number of guards were now permanently positioned around the locked doorway to the sub level. Further men were situated in rooms on the level itself. Therefore, as things stood, four of the larger cells, now had locked doors and was home to the remains of the nations gold and treasure. Although they had not managed to save all the gold from Hamalin, they did succeed in rescuing a sizable amount. Lady Sarena's father had been one of the nation's wealthiest nobles, and she had donated the entire fortune taken from Forwich to the treasury, aside from a few personal items, she wished to keep for herself.
Galliss shuffled through his pile of papers, before finding the piece he sought. "Here your highness' is the treasury balance as of yesterday. We are financially sound, and should be for some time yet," he indicated on the paper he pushed across the desktop. Caldar glanced first, before concurring and handing it to his younger sibling. There may be sufficient coin for now at least, but both knew the nations income through taxation would be somewhat diminished due to recent events. Though they were quite clearly well off for now, it was not going to last forever. Luken however, had been thinking about several things, one of which happened to be income for the treasury.
The cost of rebuilding New Easton would be vast, and people would not have enough money to pay for the homes and businesses being built for them. Luken had devised a plan for each person or family to pay a rental charge for the property allocated. He had been up until the early hours making notes and devising his planned strategy. Always assuming such things would be of little interest to him, but as he had been bed bound, for much of the last week, he had plenty of time to think.
Shuffling around with his own notes, he put forward his idea to Caldar and Galliss, who both appeared keen, nodding as he spoke. "Sounds like a good idea little brother. So we pay for the building and each time we house someone they pay us a weekly tariff?" he enquired, checking he understood correctly. Luken nodded, "yes, not much, depends on the size of the house, maybe just a few coppers for a single room dwelling, up to maybe a few silver crowns for a large business." The two brothers decided they would leave it up to Lord Galliss to set the necessary rates, who accepted to take the job.
The lord had taken well to the role he had been handed. In truth, he was responsible for pretty much the entire rebuild, though he always kept the prince's up to date with what was going on, and how much things were costing. The next subject on the agenda was planning. A number of people had applied to open businesses in the city; Vanessa's brothers and father were one such group. Care had to be taken however; it would not be practical to let everybody do what he or she wished. It was no good twenty people wanting to open inns, and so a plan had been made to make sure only so many of each business type was permitted.
Having royal connections had seen to it, permission was given to Arthur and his boys to start the building on their inn. Even better for them, was they had been allocated a prime spot, although not as large as they wanted, it was situated on the main street. Permission for other inns, had been granted, one was to built nearer the river docks, and two more spaced about the city.
Vanessa's brother Edward and his 'friend' Hunter had applied for a business license. They wished to open a shop, with workshop and living quarters over. Here they wished to make use of their skills in woodworking and carpentry, and aimed to manufacture fine furniture. This had been granted, because not only were they were friends of Caldar, but because this was the very type of enterprise they were looking to encourage.
Luken and Caldar finally stood, and thanked Lord Galliss for his time and the pair made their way down the corridor, to where there personal belongings were being brought up the stairs. Caldar was quite relieved he was not the one responsible for having to do all that climbing. "If it is alright with you little brother, I shall have those rooms there", he pointed to the nearest one. "You and Sarena can have the one opposite," he added, causing Luken to blush. "Caldar, Sarena and I do not yet share a bed," he said somewhat awkwardly, "we will when we marry of course, but she will need her own room until that time."
Caldar thought about laughing, but noticing his brother was not overly comfortable on the subject of intimacy, he smiled, "that's fine." The two continued onward, and Vanessa was stood watching the pair by a doorway, "come on you, show me where you want this lot putting?" she pointed to Caldar. "Looks like the love of my life is requiring my services little brother, I'll catch up with you later, for lunch maybe."
After wishing both his brother and Vanessa good luck in sorting their room out, he turned to the door opposite into what as from today would become his new home. Closing the door behind him, shutting out any residual noise in the corridor and beyond, he made his way to his chair. Dareen, one of his personal staff was stood with a pair of scissors over a very grumpy looking Taylor. He cast his son a smile, but got only a grimace in return, "Oh come now Taylor, you have to have your hair cut. Now sit still for Dareen, and if you're good you can come with me later this afternoon."
Taylor's face lit up, "are you going practicing again Dad?" he asked with a sudden excitement in his voice. Luken nodded, "Yes, Dagon thinks my body is sufficiently recovered to try a few things Sandred has suggested to him. We have to go down by the river though, just in case it does not work out like it should." Taylor suddenly sat keenly, as Dareen continued her handy work, snipping and cutting, then combing. The youngsters big brown eyes opened fully as his face beamed a big smile, causing the elderly woman to pinch his cheeks in her adoration.
Luken and Caldar were not the only ones fortunate enough to be given a new place to live. The first dozen timber framed houses had been finished, and later that day Lord Galliss was handing over the tenancy agreements to the lucky recipients. The properties where similar to the buildings Luken had been given on arrival to Easton, but a little more substantial. Built on stone footings and timber floor, each had two sleeping rooms, a privy, a living and kitchen area with indoor water pump. Outside, each had a small front and back garden surrounded by a picketed fence. The walls were double skinned, which encapsulated wool in between to act as insulation. The roof was made from wooden shingle, and the windows all glazed with glass.
It had been decided, that the first houses should go to the neediest. Seven had gone to families from Forwich, consisting of two parents and at least two or three children. The other five had been allocated to couples who had willingly adopted children orphaned from Hamalin, as a sign of gratitude for their caring. With the building now progressing quickly, and most of the groundwork done, it was hoped the next dozen should be ready by the end of the week.
To help move their own project along, Arthur and his sons, Eric, Davis, Carlton and Mitch were digging the footings for their proposed building. Once dug, a short stone wall would have to be constructed, onto which would sit their two-storey inn. The main building would have to be constructed from timber, though not of the wooden panelling used for the houses. Work had already started on the making of several large frames that would take the load of the structure. A separate building was also marked out for construction; this would be a stable block and store room.
It was hoped the inn, would have a ground floor consisting of kitchens and bar area, and a common room with a large stone fireplace. Upstairs would be their living quarters, as well as six guest rooms. Always one to think ahead Arthur had already sourced ingredients for the brewing of his ales, and despite the concern of his children, the implements needed to make his extra strong spirits.
The defences at Casham, the town on the Corlan, Besemian border were now quite formidable. Lord Willem, one of the seven ruling lords of the council of South Besemia still maintained his presence, to oversee the continued construction. He had systematically started allowing some of his own men, back to their homes. However, these were replaced with fresh soldiers, newly recruited. He had started drawing up plans for a late summer offensive; once he was satisfied, his base of operation was soundly defensible.
He had received word a few days earlier of the outstanding victory achieved by his allies in the west. He had sent a letter in return to request the three hundred men he had sent with the crown prince, to be despatched back to him, when it was feasible to do so. He had also once more asked the question of the prince, finally stepping forward and becoming king, and had jokingly written he was awaiting his invitation. The victory was not the only good news, Prince Caldar had informed him, that the younger royal was also alive, and more bizarrely, was some great and powerful magician. This he had to see, before he fully believed it, though he had heard of numerous rumours confirming as much.
He knew that his main targets before the summer's end would be to remove the force opposing him, and to retake the city of Bashek. If he could do that, he could allow many of his own men to return south, perhaps in time to help with the huge harvests. With help from his allies, he could keep a smaller force to hold the defences at Casham. With the city retaken, he could then move a sizeable defensive force and hold there until next spring, before making any further offensive action. Those at least, were the goals set out by the council for him to fulfil, though achieving them maybe something else entirely.
The forces of the north Besemians had dug themselves in, a mile or so north of his own defences. His scouts believed there were no more than fifteen hundred in number, though all proper soldiers, probably not of any quality. He had run several ideas past his own officers, on ways to defeat them, and yet was still torn between two. He could make a large-scale advance and hope to overpower his enemy, though he knew this could and would prove costly as far as casualties were concerned. His personal favourite was a far more drawn out procedure of making smaller raids against the defenders. He hoped doing so might well be the best way forward for now, slowly reducing their numbers before making a much bolder move.
He had already set in motion, plans for retaking his nation's capital city. His spies had told him, Bashek was currently being governed by a Darekian priest, answering directly to the Overlord Fenlor. Darekian soldiers were holding and patrolling the city and walls, and the people had been subdued into little more than lives of slaves. He had sent in a couple of his best operatives to set wheels in motion, to spread word of the south coming to save them and start underground resistance movements. These were to work in small groups, slowly removing the guards, and making life for them within the walls unbearable. To prepare the city and its people for the time it was feasible to retake it.
Jared, short sandy coloured hair, clean-shaven, mid twenties and of average height and build, was one such operative. Kaden, short, stocky, in his thirties with a round chubby face and thinning brown hair, was his accomplice. The two men had ridden from the defensive lines at Casham, moving by night until they had at last reached the walls of their target city. Bashek was set in the valley below them. Coming as they did from the far south of Besemia, it was the first either had seen of their capital.
Tall dark stonewalls some forty feet in height, interspacing the several square towers that ringed the city. Even from this distance, they could make out the dark red flags of their enemy flying from the flagpoles. The very light breeze just enough to flicker them into life. As they discreetly made their way nearer, they could now see the Darekian guards positioned atop the walls and more importantly the main gates.
For now, they would set camp, some distance still from the city and observe. Their directive was to mingle with the populace and start bringing down the occupying force from within. Firstly and foremost, they had to watch and find a way past the guards. Only lightly armed, they were however well supplied with the necessities for survival, as well as a large quantity of coin. However, from what they had been told in their briefing before departure, it was doubtful Darekian soldiers would be susceptible to bribery. The minds of the enemy apparently worked differently from that of normal men.
Inside the capital, two guards dragged a man into the room and threw him down to the tiled floor. Lamps lit around the walls flickered, casting a dim light. A tall-cloaked figure turned, and spoke in a low rasping voice, "why do you bring this maggot before me?" One of the guards, a well built man, tattoo's covering most of his face, replied, "We found this one trying to escape the city without a permit." The cloaked figure leant down to the beaten face of the prisoner, "keen to get out are you. Do not worry, your time will come," he chuckled. Turning to the guard "take him to the dungeon; he can make up the numbers we send to the homeland next week." The guards dragged the prisoner up, "when I escape I am going to kill you first," he spat at the larger of the two guards. His insults only earned him another punch to the face, and the robed Darekian priest, chuckled again, a hoarse phlegm ridden sort of sound, "this one has spirit, he will make a fine Orlac." The man's screams faded as he was dragged away and down to the dungeons.