Horizon of War Series

Lansius enjoyed his late lunch in peace, undisturbed by the shouting and yelling from the staff in the neighboring warehouse. He filled his thick bread with ham and cheese, then offered half to the worker, who graciously accepted it.

“Thank you, master.”

“Eat well, my good man,” Lansius said casually.

The man was baffled by the kind treatment but ate heartily.

Lansius took out Stefi’s wineskin from his bag, poured a bit into his half-filled water cup, and offered it to the man. The worker didn’t refuse the offer, as he was just trying to make a living. “Thank you, master,” he said again, gulping it down.

Lansius wasn’t trying to bribe him with food, as that would be impossibly difficult. Instead, he struck up a conversation. “So, how many years have you worked here?”

“Since the young lord was still a toddler,” the worker recalled.

“Must be more than a dozen years. How much do they pay you?”

The man chuckled and rubbed his coarse facial hair. “Too little.”

His lips formed a small grin. “Master, if you know, why ask?”

“I don’t. I’m new here, and they won’t tell me anything,” Lansius said and offered him two berries. “Tell me, how much does a staff member like me make?”

The worker took the fruit, looked at Lansius, and said, “I heard from a drunken staff member that he got four copper a day.”

About the same. Mine was six copper on campaign, probably four copper during peacetime.

“And how much for a new staff that works in the warehouse?” Lansius inquired.

“Unfortunately, a lot less,” he said apologetically.

Not if I can help it . . .

Lansius grinned. “Tell you what. I’m just here because the captain said so. I believe when things return to normal, I’ll be recalled to Lord Arte’s side.”

The name drop shocked the man. “You’re part of the young lord’s retinue?” He sized up Lansius again, nodding his head as he recalled how Lansius was accompanied by a squire in a black gambeson. “I wish you fortune then, master. Your stay here might be unpleasant.”

“Why is that?” Lansius asked.

The man looked around and whispered, “The one who runs this place is a bit odd in the head.”

Lansius chuckled. “I have the same opinion.”

The two laughed heartily.

Stefi appeared at the warehouse entrance and walked briskly toward Lansius, sweaty from her efforts. Lansius rose and quickly offered her a jug of water, which she took and drank gracefully.

The man grinned while admiring Stefi’s appearance.

“Did you get it?” Lansius asked.

“Keith drove a hard bargain, but your note saved the day.”

Lansius grinned. He had sent Stefi with two pieces of high-quality clothing from the wardrobe in their room to Keith.

Keith wasn’t going to give them a good price easily, but Lansius had written a note stating that he still had a lot and would sell to another if the price wasn’t acceptable. Keith faced a dilemma and gave an acceptable price of three copper per piece.

“He wouldn’t give me socks as a bonus, but he gave me these.” Stefi pulled out two head caps.

Lansius was amused. “Keith was a tough nut.”

“But you cracked him good. I’ve never seen him give that much ground before.”

Lansius gestured for Stefi to take a seat on the clean crate, and she did so, resting her legs from the return trip. Meanwhile, Lansius checked the head cap, finding it worn and yellowish, but clean, dry, and comfortable. He offered it to the lone worker.

“Monsieur, I can’t accept this,” he said, seeming half embarrassed and half fearful, perhaps because of Lansius’s earlier announcement that he was part of the young lord’s retinue.

“What’s your name?” Lansius asked.

“Wade, master.”

Lansius knelt and placed one of the caps in Wade’s hand. “Nice to know you. I’m Lansius, but you can call me Lans.”

Wade clenched the head cap. “Good to meet you, master Lans.”

Lansius returned to the crate and sat as if addressing his subject. “Wade, I’ve been thinking about what you said earlier—about how things might be unpleasant for me.”

Wade nodded, so Lansius continued. “I want to make my stay as enjoyable as possible. Can you help with that?”

“But how, master?”

Lansius smiled. “Tomorrow, bring a friend,” he instructed while pinching another head cap. “If you bring more, I can always part with several iron coins if they’re strong and they work hard and fast.”

Wade grinned. “I have friends. I’ll only bring the best.”

“Tomorrow then. Now, let’s wrap up and end the day.”

“But it’s barely past midday, master Lans,” Wade said.

“It’s useless with just us. I want you to be fresh tomorrow.”

Wade nodded happily, grateful to find a benevolent staff member who wasn’t stingy with his purse.

The following day, after a good night’s sleep, Lansius arrived at his section of the warehouse to find five men already working. Stefi had yet to arrive, but he didn’t mind.

“Morning, master Lans,” Wade greeted him, while the rest bowed their heads slightly in respect.

“Morning, Wade. You’re working early today.”

Wade and the men smiled, charmed by Lansius’s down-to-earth attitude, unlike that of the other staff. “Are these men enough, master Lans?”

“Only if they’re as good as you said,” Lansius replied. “I can give two irons per person, to be paid each evening. I’ll allow you to return to your original post, so as not to offend the senior staff, but try to return when you can; otherwise, I can only give one iron.”

The men understood and grinned knowingly.

Lansius continued, “Let’s keep this a secret between us, lest the acting head clerk causes us problems.”

“There won’t be any,” Wade said with confidence.

Lansius pulled a head cap from his bag and gave it to Wade. “Foreman Wade. Reward this to whomever you please.”

With that, Lansius effectively established a hierarchy and command structure. While the ones who ultimately paid for the workers was the office, by using bonuses or bribes, he made them more inclined to work for him instead of the other staff. Afterward, things progressed smoothly despite the inevitable mishaps and snags that accompanied untangling such a large mess.

In just three days, the warehouse had visibly transformed. Master Hubert had heard rumors but couldn’t be bothered to check until Vince brought him the record.

“Yes, I read that. Did you want more praise?” Hubert scolded his staff while remaining seated behind a large mahogany table.

“Master, a confession. I wrote that, but the calculation was the new clerk’s doing.”

Hubert’s sharp eyes gazed at Vince, who didn’t back down. “Are you implying that he works at noon and calculates records at night? Does he not need sleep?”

“Oh, I checked, master. The light in his room faded before midnight,” Vince clarified.

“Then how is it possible . . . unless he’s really good with numbers,” mulled Hubert.

Vince nodded. “His writing is near illegible, but his calculations were spot-on.”

“But why did you report this to me and not use it to your advantage?” the acting head clerk inquired.

“Because the new clerk is just too good, and now everybody wants to use him too.”

Hubert chuckled. “And what are you proposing?”

Vince didn’t hesitate. “Give him a chamber and put him to work. Let us be the only two who have access to him.”

Hubert smiled. “Arrange it.”

A few weeks had passed, and the frigid winds and snow that had held Riverstead City in their grip finally dissipated. Warmer air from the western sea quickly brought changes to the landscape. The snow thawed, rivers flowed once more, and the grasslands and tree lines sprang back to life.

Despite the muddy roads and persistent drizzle, refugees began to flock back to the city. The first week of spring saw Riverstead come alive with bustling markets and ongoing repairs throughout the city. There were even talks of spring festivals and victory celebrations.

As the city returned to normalcy, Lansius continued working alone in a small study. As he had planned, Hubert finally accepted him as a fully fledged clerk with all its benefits. He was assigned to the third floor, just at the far end from his room.

Hubert through Vince kept supplying Lansius with endless calculation work, ranging from minor purchases for kitchen supplies to various taxes received by the city. Dark shadows circled Lansius’s eyes, and he yawned at random intervals. However, the cause of his sleep deprivation was not work-related.

While he feigned naivety around Hubert and Vince, Lansius was well aware that working too quickly could lead to exhaustion. Since he was paid by the day rather than by the task, he deliberately paced himself. Sometimes he would double-check his work, at other times he would study the documents on hand. However, his favorite diversion was reading books under the guise of studying.

The municipal office didn’t have a proper library, but Lansius had discovered two old, leather-bound history books. While they read like children’s stories—filled with tales of creation and heroism—he found them captivating. He was particularly intrigued by accounts of elves, dwarves, and half-humans, as well as their legendary deeds.

He also came across an old, incomplete report about the Mage Guild, which detailed its founding, headquarters, and objectives. This gave him something to discuss with his fellow clerks, usually Vince. From these conversations, Lansius learned that mages were rare. Even Lord Maurice only employed one.

Aside from mages, there were also saint candidates, said to possess the ability to heal. Lansius was skeptical, considering them to be physicians at best, if not mere shamans.

There were a lot of mysteries in this world, and he had to admit that he was rather excited with the possibility that magic was real. This fueled him to read as much as he could during the daytime, and by the dim light of his rushlight, he continued his reading well after sunset.

This passion for reading led to his peers respecting him, mistaking his haggard looks as proof of his hard work.

Just like any other day, Lansius was working in his chamber when a sudden knock on the door alerted him. “Who—”

Before he could complete his sentence, a woman in a black gambeson barged in. Lansius recognized who had entered and continued working as if nothing had happened.

Stefi took the only other seat and slouched. “Ah, it’s much cooler in here.”

“Well, it’s the third floor.”

She noticed a plate with a slice of spiced ham, beans, and hard bread on the table. “Oh, Jan has made his rounds?”

“Yeah, not long ago. Help yourself,” he said, without losing focus on his parchment and wax tablets.

“They’ll whip a squire like me if I ate before the master,” she teased.

He chuckled but remained focused. Stefi took the only cup on the table and drank it straight. However, her simple act robbed Lansius of his focus.

Her lips. . . on my cup.

“Ah, it’s refreshing!”

He banished his inappropriate thoughts, which had been triggered more often since they were apart. “It’s just water.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter,” she exclaimed and unfastened the lower part of her gambeson.

Lansius’s eyes opened wide.

“There you go.” Stefi pulled out a wrapped package and slammed it on the table.

“Oh, a gift?” he blurted.

“Hehe, a present for graduating from that warehouse.”

Lansius chuckled as he unwrapped the package. “A belt! Oh, you didn’t have to.”

“Go on, test it,” urged Stefi.

Lansius approached her and tried on the belt by wrapping it around his waist. However, he had never tied a sword belt before and got confused. Stefi assisted him and tied the ring belt. With her help, the sword belt fit snugly and correctly.

“So, this is how you wear one.” He moved about to appreciate the look. “You’re very good at this.”

She chuckled at his remark. “Lans, I’m a squire. That’s what I do for a living.”

Lansius realized his error and grinned sheepishly. Indeed, a squire’s primary job was to help their knight don their gear.

“Do you like it?” she asked.

“Of course. But are you sure it’s not pricey?”

“Don’t fret. You need it; the old one is worn out.” She added, “Next is a sword and shoes.”

He found her enthusiasm amusing. “I don’t think a clerk needs a sword.”

Stefi shrugged and poured another cup of water as Lansius returned to his seat. He then brought an earthen jar to the table along with a bronze goblet from the bottom cabinet.

“What’s that for?” she asked, nodding toward the jar and goblet.

Lansius smiled as he poured the contents generously into the goblet. The rich aroma had a hint of honeyed sweetness.

“It’s mead. Where did you get it?” She became excited.

“One of Wade’s men broke an amphora, so all of them got their pay docked. I felt pity and helped out a little.”

She whistled. “Must be expensive.”

“Yeah, but I got this in return. So drink up and be delighted.” He handed the goblet to her.

She gulped it with a big grin on her face.

Her reaction brought a smile to his face. “Hey, wanna go out for lunch?” Lansius asked.

“If you insist,” Stefi masterfully quipped, putting a smile on Lansius’s face. He wanted to visit Keith’s shop again to look for gifts for Marc, Tanya, and Arryn. His campaign money was yet to be distributed, but that didn’t deter his eagerness to browse around.

The day had turned dark. Even Lansius, usually awake late into the night with his reading, had succumbed to sleep when suddenly, the peace in his room was broken by a voice calling his name.

“Master Lansius! Someone called again from outside the room, urgency evident in the tone.

Lansius opened the door, peering out into the pitch-black hallway. Only the dim light of a servant’s lantern illuminated their surroundings.

“Jan?” Lansius opened the door slightly wider.

The boy looked distraught. “Some people are leaving the city in a hurry,” Jan whispered frantically. “Master Hubert and Vince too. Wade saw them packing goods onto a fast carriage.”

Lansius’s mind raced as he tried to make sense of why Hubert left, along with Vince.

Embezzlement? No, the old crook is far too eccentric for that, and Vince collects wages for doing nothing.

There was only one possibility left: war.

“Quick, help me pack my things,” Lansius said, rushing over to the cabinet and flinging its contents aside. He knew he was probably too late, but he didn’t need to outsmart anyone—just enough to get himself out of harm’s way.

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