Ethan sat inside the pitch-black council room, staring at a ceiling he couldn’t see. His fingers absently tapping against the arm of his chair as he considered. Over and over, the changes that would have to come. And soon.

  “Ethan?” A soft, feminine voice and the rising blue core light brought him from his meditative fugue.

  “Ermina? Were you looking for me?”

  “Yes. I didn’t expect to find you pouting in the dark.”

  Pouting? Merely thinking. But it wasn’t a charge you could argue against. Not without confirming the accusation. So he didn’t.

  “Is it that bad?” The curtain shifted behind her and a stream of bodies began to work their way in. James, moping a bit without his bride. Guile with yet another weapon in need of sharpening. Conner and Sigismund each with a leg of something that looked a lot like wolf and Ranier with an arm full of scrolls. Only Blake was missing, off in his half-completed tower poring over the new ritual.

  He considered them calmly for a moment, then responded. “Well, it’s not good. But bad… I can’t really say. The pay is commiserate with the risk. And if our core needs conflict to grow… We could be getting paid twice. But it is a risk. And we’ve not lived this long by ignoring such.”

  They had to be enumerated, considered and mitigated where possible.

  "A year and a half to two years." he muses, running numbers through his head.

  "One year right?" Ranier objected.

  "One year to the reveal." Ermina offered, shaking her head. "Just because he knows doesn't mean he'll know how to react. Nor is he able to arrange it instantly. It's not exactly a situation he could have predicted. And even once he decides to act, he’ll need a catspaw."

  For a noble of a similar tier to attack them for a legitimate grievance, why that was the heart of the feudal system. But for a senior noble to interfere? That would be a challenge to their own senior noble.

  The Emperor.

  “-a Count reaching down to attack a Baronet?” Ermina’s voice broke through his musing, again. He needed to watch for that. His attention was wandering a bit far today. “One with the Emperor as his liege? No. He'll need to create a reason, and use someone lower down to prosecute it."

  "Like a certain baron who already hates you?" Guile smirks.

  "That does seem the most likely avenue of attack." Ethan admitted.

  "He has what? 500 men? Plus a significant militia for town defense?" Conner, spat to the side.

  Ethan turned, as did the rest of the room to stare at James.

  “What?” The not-a-spy-master asked.

  “How many does he have?”

  “I was only there for an evening!” He protested.

  “Ahuh… so how many?” Guile repeated.

  “Haaa, 457 at the Baronial seat. A bit better than average on the tier spread, too.” Average was about ten tier 1s per tier 2. “In the light at least. I’d not be surprised if he had an uncle or grandfather at Tier 3 hiding away. Many a noble family does. Or a few more men dispersed to defend various resource nodes.”

  Guile stared at him, smirking. He just rolled his eyes to the soft laughter that filled the room.

  “Alright, alright.” Ethan brought the revelry down a notch. But it was a welcome break in the tension that was beginning to feel dense enough to drink… or drown in. “That puts us at a significant advantage in the 2nd tier.” Nearly 60 between Pahadi and Lancers, and with Principis available that was about to go up at least forty more. As unbalanced in its own way as Ranier found their economy! “But a disadvantage on the rest.”

  Their new armsmen recruits and the hunters were all in the level 10 to 12 range. An impressive feat for the few 12s, to make so much ground in so little time. But it would take between 8 years and never for them to hit level 19.

  Well, 8 years without the training buildings. How much they could gain in most of two years with training buildings, constant drilling, conflict and regular rifts? Why, they would have to see.

  But that was a generic response. A good one, to be sure. He’d never complain about to many quality troops. But specific solutions were better for specific problems. If an assault was to come, where and how would it come? And how could they anticipate and stack the deck against them before it ever happened?

  He walked to the side, ignoring for a moment the continuing arguments about how the Count would react to the news. Oh, he didn't disagree. He'd love to be a fly on the wall of that council chamber. It would do wonderful things for his ego, no doubt!

  But it wasn’t immediately germane. Picking up one of several sandboxes, he moved it carefully back to the table, nodding in thanks as Sigismund stepped forward to move the parchment and scrolls out of the way.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  Promise expanded below him in crude, grainy glory. Terrain features mostly, but with a small forest of flags to show the intended settlement and fortifications. Fortifications that would need to be revamped, rearranged and accelerated.

  The surrounding terrain likewise needed scouting. Were there any high passes that would allow a flanking force to slip through? He'd love, even with only a year or two of training, to pit his tier 2 Pahadi against an equal number of forest scouts in the mountains! Or better yet an unequal one in his favor. But he wasn’t willing to lie to himself. Even high tiers and specialties could be overwhelmed by sheer numbers.

  He moved a few tokens around. Alone at first, but the conversations began to peter out as men, and one woman, moved to his side, adjusting the tokens from time to time or objecting to a particular placement.

  At last, Ethan moved back and sat down, staring at the ceiling for a moment as he tried to work it out in his mind.

  "Rafts on the lake," He mused, "large timbers from the Great Forest as improvised bridges or skirmishing through the mountains." The three most likely venues for an assault. And likely all three at once.

  "He doesn't have the men for this." Ermina objected. "Across a bridge in unfamiliar terrain? He'd need a significant advantage in numbers, would he not? An advantage he doesn’t have."

  Conner raised a hand and waved it back and forth. “Yous half right, My lady. To push in an assault? Yes. But to spoil? Is wouldn't-" Ermina cleared her throat gently and he gave her a frustrated look. Then sighed and continued, speaking a bit slower and with distinct diction. "Harassment is more likely. A few onagars or scorpions set up across the river to make Promise unlivable. Interdict our trade and push scouts into the mountains with an eye towards hitting our herds. Straight numbers aren’t everything. It's how many you can mass against a specific target, and how many can defend it. If we’re stuck dealing with several rifts, the number of defenders at promise will have to drop in response."

  Ethan nodded cautiously, even that was only half true, "The Baron may not have the troops alone." He pointed out. "But who is to say that troops in his colors were always his? A glove is all well and good, but it’s the hand inside that does the clenching."

  Conner winced. "Tier 3 troops..."

  Ermina shook her head. "No Sir Conner. Not like that. It's too obvious. There are traditions and boundaries to this sort of behavior. As nobles, you have to remember that. Even the use of 'bandits' is governed by customs. There are limits, steep ones with real Imperial consequences to overstepping. Slip a century of tier 1 troops in? Easily. Tier 2s are more visible." Every tier 2 was a man, or woman, of significant standing. People noticed where they went, and when they disappeared.

  "A few men taking a trip to help a ‘dear’ friend they only met on arriving? This is possible. Even for a Tier 3. But not a unit of the same. And even a few tier 2s could draw attention that neither the baron, nor the count, will like. It's all well and good to win, but the surrounding barons are not fools. What can be used against us can also be used against them in the future. The balance is a delicate thing, and is maintained for oneself as much as others."

  She considered, then shook her head. "The easiest support, and hardest to object to, is for the Count to supply his own troops for garrisons and rift suppression. You tell me what that would do for Conners ‘massing’ of troops."

  Ethan grimaced. That would... well increase the forces they would see by half at least.

  It wasn't like Ethan also didn't have other defensive obligations.

  She continued with a small smile. “But, that may not work either. The Baron would have to agree after all. And it’s easy to get a cat to catch the rat, harder to get it to ignore the cream. Or to leave when no longer needed.”

  James snickered. “Oh, I can just see that. Good job on taking the mountains, you don’t mind if we walk off with the silverware, do you?”

  “Just so, if a trifle classier.”

  "It comes down to trust and reasonable precautions then..." He mused, then sighed. "And as we don't know the Baron or the Count well enough to predict, that means we plan for a worst case and hope for better. And to do that..." he considered, then grabbed a few small flags showing a guard tower on their pennants and set them up at the narrowest sections of the river. "We still have those siege engines, do we not?"

  Conner perked up. "Why yes, yes wes do! Have to assemble them." Not the easiest task, but they had time to fumble through it.

  "A well-built tower will shrug off stones and spears from smaller, portable engines. Not the larger set piece, perhaps-" Though with a thick wall of basalt, backed by a monster core powered reinforcement ritual he'd not put it passed even heavy engines, "-but that would be showing the Count's hand, I suppose." He raised an eyebrow and Ermina nodded.

  "Arrow slits, archers and ditch work for men. Engines, fire and floating logs for boats and rafts.” Maybe a few spikes placed along the lake shore to force a marine force to disembark farther out in the snowmelt water.

  He placed another tower halfway up the hillside above the planned bridge, one that would now have to have a removable mid span, or more. “Height equals distance for defensive pieces to suppress their engines."

  He nodded and moved to the surrounding mountains, placing different flags into them. "Supply caches, arrows, food and bandages, strong points for retreat or stashing the wounded." Well situated, it would weigh the skirmish battles in the hills heavily in their favor.

  Conner watched, nodding with satisfaction, and a bit of pride for that matter.

  "A good enough start, exact placement will depend on the terrain." James muttered, "But about that stranglehold on trade. What about this?" He unrolled the much fancier empire map beside the sandbox and gestured to the west side of the Silberstrom. "It's a monster-infested hell, but with a larger escort we could side-step the entire province. Cross back over in Rivervald on My Lady's father's ships."

  Ethan stared. Huh. He hadn't... Trapped in conventional thinking. Of roads, patrols and hospitality. Still, that thinking had its reasons: "No road." He mused, and that would slow them down, maybe even make wagons unusable in the forested sections. Throw in the heavy escort required and it was significantly slower, and more expensive than using the river road. But it was an option.

  "Well spotted Sir James!" It was a new perspective. and perhaps that was what they needed to consider in other places. "I wonder. Are there any paths through the mountains here?" He gestured to a line directly between Alfwin and Rivervald. High roads, and monster-infested ones for now. But with time, they might be able to fix that.

  "A thought, but not an immediate one." Ermina objected. "The scouts can start looking, but I doubt it will pay off without several years of path-breaking and clearing."

  Ethan shrugged. That might be a bit pessimistic. But then again, it might not be. Either way it wasn’t something he could guarantee would be open before the conflict broke out.

  And that meant: "We will need a trade caravan. This year in the late summer or fall. Wine, grain, additional herd animals, weapons and Basics." It would be a struggle to pay for it all, and if they dumped all the nicest furs onto the market at once, even Ethan knew it would depress prices. But needs must. If they didn't buy it then, they might not be able to for quite some time. Even if James’s little trick worked, it would still be a great deal harder and more expensive.

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