The wind rustled across the plains, stirring up dust as I looked over the organized ranks of soldiers. A few months of training were insufficient to prepare these young men for battle. And yet I could see their determination to prove themselves as men of North Cove. It twisted my stomach into knots. There was no point in this senseless war. And yet the king was determined to make himself the supreme ruler over all of the Falmoren Peninsula.

  No matter how much I thought the king was a fool for persisting in this war, my frustration was nothing compared to my hatred for those who opposed him. Specifically, Yarbeth and his ilk. It was they who had tried to kill me and my nephew. It was they who had paid money to have mercenaries cause trouble in my county, and many good men died for their greed. It was they who sent the Rabiss to run me out of my land while trying to make the king and Vaspar look foolish. And now they had pushed the ducal court to insist that my people take up arms against the Hitub when I barely had enough men to defend my own lands. How many of these brave soldiers would return? Why was a baron, now a count, who was promised he would not have to send men into battle, forced to do so anyway?

  Much of the food that was intended to feed my people until harvest would be consumed by this small army as they traveled to Kimton to meet up with the primary force in the duchy. We had been building new wagons and had to use all the mules I had bought in the summer and fall to carry the supplies south with my men. In addition to the six hundred men for the army, we were losing fifty men who were skilled in various trades. Blacksmiths, animal handlers, drivers, cartwrights, and leather workers were all needed.

  We lost four members of our sanitation team. They would work alongside the woodcutters, burning charcoal and tending to the water-filtration wagons. Three wagons were rebuilt to ensure my people drank clean water and practiced safe hygiene in the camp. The sanitation team was responsible for all the new rules we had implemented to improve health.

  I was also sending quartermasters and some of my students who had become familiar with math and arithmetic to assist with record keeping. I wanted everything recorded. How much food was consumed, who got sick, any problems, and any successes. Anything that could help us prepare for the next campaign.

  Whether there would be a next time or not, I wanted my county prepared.

  But they were all needed here; so, to the council and the king, I wanted to say, a plague upon both your houses.

  I sighed. Hopefully, the inventions that I had given to the king would help to end the war before my people even got down there.

  But now was not the time for doubts. I had prepared these men as best I could, and it was time for them to do what we had been training them to do.

  I lifted the megaphone to my mouth and shouted in a voice that all the people leaving could hear.

  “Men and women of North Cove, hear me. Tomorrow you march south. You march not as scattered men from scattered villages, but as one body, one voice, one banner. The world will call you soldiers of Falmoren—but I call you sons of North Cove. And that is no small thing.

  "We are a small land, yet rich in strength. We are a people, yet tested in hardship. We are few, but when we stand together, we are not easily broken.

  "Remember this when fear grips you: courage is not the absence of fear—it is the choice to stand anyway. And you will stand. You will stand for your brothers at your side. You will stand for the homes you leave behind. You will stand for the name you carry—North Cove.

  "You cannot choose the war you are sent to fight. But you can choose how you fight it. You can choose to fight with discipline, not chaos. With honor, not cruelty. With unity, not division.

  "When others falter, you will hold the line. When others boast, you will let your deeds speak. When others forget who they are, you will remember: you are North Cove.

  "Let the other counties and baronies see it. Let the kingdom see it. Let the world see it—that more than six hundred from the mountains and river lands of the north march with heads high, shoulders firm, and hearts unshaken.

  "And when you return—and many of you shall return—let your children look upon you and say: These were those who bore our name with honor.

  "So march, people of North Cove. March as one. March as those whose courage will not bend. March, and let the very earth remember the sound of your steps.”

  I raised my hand and shouted.

  “North Cove—stand tall. North Cove—stand together. North Cove—stand forever!”

  The field erupted. Six hundred men slammed spear shafts against shields, fists against chests, boots against dirt. From the back of the crowd, a chat began and rolled forward like thunder:

  “North Cove! North Cove! North Cove!”

  Even the captains who were standing stoically behind me began to chant. The air was electrified with the energy of my people. I took a step back and handed the megaphone to General Draves. He stepped forward and, after a few words of encouragement, started directing the organization of the field camps using the new whistles we had created.

  When I first asked about whistles for military use, I was surprised they didn't use them. Since they had whistles, I thought they must use them in the military. As soon as I told them about using them, I left the rest up to the military to experiment with command signals. Then I drew up some designs to be turned on the lathe or cast in copper and bronze.

  I had a bosun's whistle that I had picked up online at one point it was good, but the loudest whistle I ever heard was my scoutmaster's dual-pipe emergency whistle. That thing was crazy. And hard to forget, since one of the kids in our troop snuck into the leader's tent and grabbed it. Then he blew it into Zach's ear to wake him up. We all did stupid things at camp, but that one took the cake. Zach's eardrum was ruptured, and he got permanent hearing loss. Don't know the other kid's name, but he left the troop after all the backlash.

  It took them nearly a month of fiddling with the design before I was satisfied with it. But once it was blown, there was never any doubt where the sound was coming from.

  Only the generals’ signalers carried horns. Whistles cut cleanly through noise at close range, but a horn carried across an entire battlefield. Sometimes, the old ways simply worked better.

  Sergeants and lieutenants carried whistles. Each one had a distinct sound, so there would be no confusion. The amount of training required was borderline ridiculous, but in the chaos of battle, responding to the right command mattered just as much as knowing how to hold a spear.

  * * * * *

  I looked over the troops one last time as they marched from North Point onto the Great North Road. Four men sat on horseback next to me. General Draves and three other men were preparing to head out with the troops. Sir Vance of Cofi would be over the Bicman troops. Sir Harver would oversee the Plimgus troops, and Baron Malcomp's son, Julius the Second, would handle Malcomp's men. Together, they would make up the leadership of the North Cove Army. We watched the men as they left. They marched in uniform rows of four abreast in each platoon of 20 to 30 men containing a few squads. Between the platoons were the various wagons and non-combat personnel.

  "They look good. You have all done well." I said.

  Draves gave me the look of a proud father, "Many other people went into making these men into soldiers. Your innovations will save many lives. I am sure of it."

  "All I ask is that you bring them home safe. That goes for all of you as well."

  The four men who would be leading the army nodded.

  "I expect regular reports, gentleman."

  "Of course, my lord," Julius said, "It shall be as you say."

  "Remember, honor, I expect you to conduct yourselves and ensure that the men do as well."

  All of them nodded.

  "Very well, good luck, men. Return with honor and glory."

  With that, they said their goodbyes and turned to take the lead of their individual companies. I watched them go. Draves lingered, and I turned to look at him. "I think I am starting to understand the worry any leader has of sending his men to war, knowing it will be the last time they may see some of their men."

  Stolen story; please report.

  "This last year has shown me that if there is anyone to be concerned about, it is you," Draves said, trying to lighten my mood.

  "What are you talking about? I'm invincible. I have survived more things here than I did in my last world. It only took the world three tries to kill me there. How many times have I almost died here?"

  "five."

  "Really? I thought I had survived three, which two am I missing?"

  "Did you count the poisoning?"

  "Of course?"

  "The time on the beach with the Rabiss?"

  "Yep."

  "The assassin who broke into the manor?"

  I shook my finger. "That doesn't count. I wasn't here."

  "But, if you were, you would have been the target."

  "Nope, we're not counting 'what-ifs'. I am sticking with three almost deaths, if we include the one on the road to Melnon during the retreat from Pine Ridge."

  "What about the incident with the duke?"

  "That was merely a flesh wound, and I would have been fine if I hadn't gotten close."

  "You said no 'what ifs' and he was planning on killing you," Draves said flatly.

  "Fair enough, then we have four. Don't worry, I will be fine. Chris is training new soldiers, and by the time you get back, we will have at least a thousand North Cove soldiers."

  "We have enemies on our doorstep, my lord. And wolves among our mars." Drives said.

  "Hopefully, the new baron and his family will only be interested in eating, drinking, and hunting. If not, I will rein him in. Also, the wall will be a big deterrent, and even if they make it to the swamp, they are going to have a heck of a time making it through. We ran out of time to prepare all the traps we wanted to create for the Rabiss, but we have a little more time now."

  "Are you still planning on using the black powder?"

  I sighed, "As much as I don't want to, we need to continue to work on it. Our southern border is hostile to us. What do you think will happen as soon as the kingdom collapses?"

  "They will come for us," He said with a nod. "You seem more sure of this course of action."

  "I have been teetering on the edge for a while, but it was my meeting with Yarbeth that pushed me over. I am beginning to realize what would happen if I were to run from this. Black powder will be introduced now or in the future. I won't let my people suffer just because others will suffer more for my choice. I will try to make sure we use it for defence, but it is wishful thinking to imagine it will stay that way."

  "Do not forget the other uses. They would never have completed the canal so quickly if not for the black powder. Removing the stumps from the land with black powder was one of the reasons we were able to get as many fields around Cove Town planted."

  He was right. There were also estimates for equipping all the troops we were trying to gather. My people had started blasting the iron veins they were finding and getting the ore out several times faster.

  Yes, I understood its benefits, and I understood that those seven hundred raiders would have done in Pine Grove what they had managed in Oceanside if it hadn't been for the black powder, but I would bear the burden of what I was doing for the rest of my life.

  "I understand, and we have no choice. I fear that was only the first of many conflicts we will have. The Endless One either wants me to advance this world faster or use me to play a city defense game. I hope it is the former,” I said quietly. “But I am not foolish enough to rule out the latter.”

  Once again, Draves was kind enough not mention my modern reference. Of course, I had been calling their large-scale trainings war games, so maybe he did get it.

  "I think you have been doing well lately, my lord. The message has been sent to Count Bolster in the South, explaining Yarbeth's plan to steal his resources by exploiting the pass, and with any luck, he will be able to put pressure on the people trying to kill you."

  I nodded.

  "If we get a crew for our ships, we might even be able to set up an in-person meeting with him."

  I wonder how long it would take to travel along the East Coast around the Barren Lands. Also, why didn't ships normally travel that way?

  "How is the recruitment going?" He asked me.

  "The hiring in Bicman and Cove Town went well. Barry says we need at least fifty rowers per ship just to get them moving, but the reality is closer to seventy. We have thirty men so far, if you include the ten Rabiss who are training them. We need to fill in the rest with people from Malcomp and Plimgus.”

  “You aren’t going to fit the ship with sails like you wanted?”

  I shook my head. “I want to, but with the way the ship's hull is, we have come to the conclusion that we are more likely to capsize the ship. It just isn’t worth the risk, which means it will be at least a year before we have enough cured wood to make a ship, and then the months it would take to build it. Unless, of course, we send some of the raider ships to Carok and purchase lumber. We are definitely not going to try to get it from Vaspar. Unfortunately, the expense cannot be justified just yet. I need people to come here and buy my stuff. Using our lumber mills to cut the wood is a better idea. Besides, it is going to take a lot of cotton to make the lighter sails, and we still don't have a rope-making machine."

  We were interrupted in our conversation by two NCDF escorting a man in well-tailored traveling clothes. The man was on horseback, but I could still tell he was tall. He carried himself like a noble and had the black, wavy hair that I found most common in Falmoren nobles. I was just praying he wasn't here to deliver a letter. Fortunately, he did not look like a courier.

  He bowed from his saddle. Which I always found impressive. I had practiced it, but it always felt awkward.

  "My lord, I am Jarum. Cousin of Baron Desmond Eval of Westcove." He said in an extremely formal tone.

  I nodded politely, barely containing my excitement. I swear the Endless One had just answered my silent prayer for trade partners. "Welcome, Jarum. Even out here, we have heard of the illustrious Baron Eval and the great trading port of Westcove. What brings you to North Cove? We are too far out of the way for this to be a social call."

  "You remind me of my cousin, straight to the point. After my last visit to Vaspar, I returned home with a few items that had been created in your county. My cousin has sent me as an envoy to discuss a trade deal and political relationships. He is most interested in your book paper."

  "Then I am sorry that you came all the way out here. I do not sell that particular paper. Only the finished product."

  The man didn't look discouraged at all."That should be fine. Unfortunately, the publishing house in Vaspar is no longer there."

  "Count Vaspars' son, Petey, doesn't like me very much, so we had to remove ourselves from his territory."

  I saw the smile that crossed Jarum's face as I said Peter's nickname. "If you called Count Vaspar such a ridiculous name, I can see why he dislikes you."

  "No, I haven't had a chance. Hopefully, the name will spread," I said with a grin. "Now, as far as books go. I was planning on running a shipment down to Carok next month, but I could spare a few for you."

  I saw the glint in his eyes as he prepared to bargain. "How much would you like for them?"

  "It all depends on the number of pages, the quality of the material used to make the book, and, of course, the popularity."

  "And what if I bought all of your books. Is there a discount on the price?"

  "I don't have that many books, but I suppose I could give you a discount of one twentieth of the price."

  Jarum's eyebrows rose in surprise, "I have never heard of such a small bulk discount. I am used to seeing at least a fifth."

  I chuckled, "As a cousin to a Baron, I am sure you are. However, this is a niche item, and quantity is low while demand is high. That is not even mentioning it is still a novelty. I suppose I could give you seven one-hundredths off."

  "You forget, if I were to take all your books, you would not have to ship them yourself, that is at least worth a fifth."

  Then the real bargaining began. He was good at what he did and ended up with a 15% discount. I would have Edward discuss the price with him. We also discussed how many I can produce in the future. He pointed out that since I could no longer sell in Vaspar, I could either sell in Yarbeth or send them down the coast.

  Honestly, Yarbeth would probably be better, but selling anything in that man's county put a bad taste in my mouth. Again, I would push this off onto Edward. When we finally concluded everything we could with the topic, I reached into my belt and pulled an obsidian knife from its sheath. Samual had made it for me; it was always on my hip.

  I held the knife out to him. "Have you ever seen anything like this?" I asked.

  He grabbed the blade and began to examine it. His expression was neutral, and at first, I thought he was just playing it cool to get a better price. But his next statement surprised me.

  "This is a decently made obsidian blade. You can tell the craftsmanship was done by someone not used to working with obsidian. I would value it at three silver pennies in Westcove. Perhaps a silver crown in Carok, since they are farther away from Filew, where we obtain our obsidian."

  "I see," disappointment evident in my face.

  Picking up on this, Jarum said. "I assume you have a lot of it."

  I nodded.

  "I do a lot of traveling for my cousin. So I have been fortunate to see a lot of things. I recommend you hire someone skilled in crafting with obsidian. It works well for knives, arrowheads, jewelry, and inlays. In Turabe, they use obsidian mirrors in the temples. They use the mirrors to reflect the image Harzarki spirits and to call upon the dead. So don't expect to sell obsidian in Turabe. Sale of it there will get you the death sentence."

  "Do they perform human sacrifices?" I asked.

  "Not that I know of, but their temples are locked down tighter than my cousin Dez's treasury, so who knows what goes on in there."

  "Thanks for all the info."

  "No problem. I have a favor to ask you, though. Is there a place I can have one of my ships pick me up? When the dock authorities found out where I was going, I was robbed by them, and I doubt any return trips from your county will be met with approval."

  "Wow, things are worse than I thought?"

  "Here is an example. During my last visit to Vaspar, I was introduced to a number system that had taken over every market. I bought a meter stick, measuring cups, and weights to show my cousin. When I came back this time. There were signs posted publicly that the use of that measuring system was prohibited. Those using it would be given a lashing in the public square. I didn't understand it until someone said the new count was convinced the system was created by the "Thief of the North." That is the name the count has given you."

  Thief of the North. Maybe Petey is too kind a name for him? I think I will start a propaganda campaign. I wonder what the duke will say when he hears that the usurper disagrees with his decision to make me a count?

  One thing I was certain of was that this was a prelude to war. Hopefully, I could stop it before it started.

  Have a great weekend. Again, thank you for your support here and on Patreon. I cannot remember if I let you all know I put a fun map of the Cove up on Patreon. It isn't completely accurate, but it looks cool.