"Sir Thorold, hath the Baron yet returned?"
In the great hall of Brindlemark Castle, Celeste sank into the main chair, weariness etched upon her face.
"Milady, the Baron hasn't been seen outside his estate for the past three days."
"That so? Isolde, how goes the enforcement of the new law? Have the people shown any discontent?"
Isolde, the sole remaining steward of the original town hall, considered her words carefully.
"Some among the populace do lament the command to eat but once daily, yet the majority comprehend the necessity. The troubles of Brindlemark are plain, and hearts have been readied… only…"
"Only what?" Unease pricked Celeste, though she forced her voice steady.
"Milady, it grieves me to say that near thirty percent of Brindlemark's merchants have departed. Trade, along with the bounty of our fields, sustains the coffers. The new decree hath stirred apprehension among them, and prudent men see ill ahead."
Isolde paused, her tone heavy with helplessness. "Yet all is not lost. The small and cautious merchants have fled, but the great traders remain steadfast within Brindlemark."
Celeste's heart sank. The wealthier merchants would not stay indefinitely. Should the town falter, they would depart, leaving Brindlemark cut off from trade and facing famine.
"Can we entreat the merchants for coin or food?" she asked cautiously. Though improper for nobles to borrow thus, no other means remained.
"Verily, these merchants are wily beyond measure. Though they feign courtesy, they speak not a word when loans are sought, inventing excuse upon excuse. They hold us in disdain; even surpassing the market, they would grant naught but a fraction of what is due."
Isolde's sarcasm cut deeper than her words. She had long distrusted these cunning men.
"Then why do they linger?" Celeste asked, uncertain in matters of commerce.
"They bide their time," Isolde replied. "The Baron is newly enthroned, and they trust he may aid us. The odds are slight, yet they gamble, for as it is said, 'From crisis comes opportunity.'"
Celeste bit her lower lip, regret pricking her heart. She had always feared her hesitation drove Darien from the castle, and now the burden fell wholly upon her.
"Might I inquire of the new Baron's identity?"
"Milady, these three days past have shown me naught but his station. Baron Darien hails from the West, of fair birth and ample wealth," Sir Thorold answered.
Celeste's mind traced the distant North to the royal city of Solgrin, yet all that mattered were the final words.
"Wealthy?" she asked.
"Verily. He acquired the finest residences and the foremost business quarter of Brindlemark from the former steward. Even Lord Charles' title and lands were his for a mere hundred gold coins," Sir Thorold said, awe in his tone.
"That pansy! A lecherous, gluttonous pig!" Isolde spat, grinding her teeth. The hundred gold coins—meant for the lord's mansion—had been seized, along with Charles's relics, by the avaricious steward. Were it not for his stripping Brindlemark of its stores, the town might yet have endured the winter's cruelty.
"It seems I must seek the new Baron without delay," Celeste sighed. Brindlemark was in peril, and she would risk Darien's ire to secure his aid.
---
Darien opened his eyes to his chamber, high upon his estate in this new realm.
"Hah… I've made it through safely," he muttered, weariness tugging at his limbs.
His gaze fell upon the heavy bag at his side—it was no wonder he felt spent. One bag alone was enough; safety must come first.
Setting it aside, he resolved to take a quick repast before venturing forth. In short order, he prepared toasted bread with scrambled eggs, diced tomatoes, fresh herbs, and a few slices of cured ham, accompanied by a strong cup of coffee. Quick, simple, and satisfying.
Just as he reached for a bite, a knock came upon the door.
"Huh? Who goes there… Aelfric?" he muttered, peering through the crack.
Celeste's hand hovered mid-knock, startled the door opened so swiftly. Darien felt a momentary puzzlement before speaking.
"Good morrow, my lady… may I ask what brings you here? Have you eaten? Would you like to join me?"
---
🔍 Did you know?
- In medieval towns, merchants were often the most cautious members of society. During times of crisis or famine, they sometimes fled the town to protect their goods, while small traders or peasants had little choice but to stay.
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