The goblin's head began to smell before noon.
Bradley had ordered it washed and mounted high above the eastern gate—not as spectacle, but as confirmation.
The fence had held.
The arrows had reached.
The wall still meant something.
By midmorning, a faint metallic rot threaded through the courtyard, mixing with hay and damp wood. Farmers gathered in quiet clusters, glancing up at the mounted proof.
They did not look reassured.
They counted.
One dead.
Seven seen.
Six missing.
Captain Hadrik stood beside Bradley near the gate, gaze fixed beyond the fields.
"They watched us retrieve it," the captain said.
"Yes."
"They did not test again."
"Not yet."
Hadrik shifted slightly. "You expected retaliation."
"I expected an evaluation."
A glance sideways. "Is there a difference?"
"For them? Yes."
The hammering of reinforced posts carried faintly across the yard. Farmers worked without complaint now.
Fear had become cooperative.
Useful.
By midday, the merchant association requested an audience.
They did not come to the manor.
They summoned the Town Lord.
Which meant concern had outrun courtesy.
Wulfsige Tatume received them in the lower hall. Candace stood beside him, hands folded calmly. Oswald remained near the window.
Bradley stood at his father's right—not leading, not hidden.
Herrik Vane, narrow-shouldered and careful with tone, bowed shallowly.
"We are grateful for the swift response to the eastern disturbance," he began. "However, livestock loss has already shifted grain prices by two copper per sack."
Minor.
But frontier towns bled through minor wounds.
"Temporary," Wulfsige said evenly.
"Perhaps," Vane agreed. "But caravans from the southern road have been delayed twice this week."
"Because of goblins?" Wulfsige asked.
"Because of a rumor."
That was worse.
Bradley spoke before dismissal could follow.
"How many altered routes?"
"Two. A third considers Korvossa."
That name hung longer than it should have.
Avoidance meant reduced tax.
Reduced tax meant weakness.
"We increase escort visibility," Wulfsige said.
"Visibility may not suffice," Bradley replied evenly.
All eyes shifted.
Vane raised a brow. "And what would suffice, my lord?"
Bradley considered carefully.
If caravans believed instability was growing, they would avoid Old Dornelis before instability fully arrived.
"Announce patrol success," he said. "Not a threat."
"You would exaggerate?" Vane asked.
"I would emphasize the outcome."
Candace's gaze sharpened slightly.
"And if goblins escalate?"
"Then our statement remains accurate."
A pause.
Vane studied him.
"You are certain they will escalate?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Seven approached reinforced fencing within hours."
Oswald spoke quietly from the window. "Or coincidence."
Bradley met his gaze. "Coincidence does not split at blind corners."
Silence settled.
Wulfsige dismissed the merchants with measured assurances.
When the hall cleared, he turned fully toward Bradley.
"You are stepping close to authority you do not possess."
"I am stepping toward responsibility you assigned."
A tightening at his father's eyes.
"You proposed the bait," Wulfsige said. "If this worsens—"
"It will," Bradley said calmly.
Oswald exhaled faintly. "Confidence inspires."
"Predictability informs," Bradley replied.
Candace studied him.
"And your adjustment?"
Bradley did not hesitate this time.
"We cannot sustain reactive defense."
Wulfsige's voice cooled.
"Mercenaries are already deployed."
"The affordable ones," Bradley said.
"And the rest," Oswald added dryly, "require coin we lack."
"Then we change structure," Bradley said.
Silence.
Wulfsige narrowed his eyes.
"Explain."
"We formalize monster contracts locally."
The word settled heavily.
Formalize.
"A guild," Wulfsige said flatly.
"A controlled civilian structure under House authority."
Oswald crossed his arms. "We have guards."
"We have seventy-six," Bradley replied. "Twelve capable of extended patrol. Rotations strain. If war drags on, reinforcement will not arrive soon."
That required no elaboration.
Wulfsige stepped closer.
"Guilds dilute noble authority."
"Only if unmanaged."
Candace tilted her head slightly.
"And you would manage it?"
Bradley chose precision.
"I would assume operational responsibility under House Tatume."
Oswald's mouth twitched.
"You."
"Yes."
"For armed civilians."
"Yes."
"And you would not embarrass the house."
"No."
Wulfsige stopped an arm's length away.
"You stand on six months of probation."
"I am aware."
"And you would stake that on organizing drifters."
"Yes."
"Why?" his father demanded.
Bradley did not speak of ambition.
He spoke of arithmetic.
"Instability compounds."
The room quieted.
Wulfsige turned toward the window.
"And funding?"
"The southern tavern," Bradley said. "It is underutilized."
Oswald blinked. "You intend to build a structure in a bar."
"I intend to repurpose existing traffic."
Candace's lips almost curved.
Wulfsige did not smile.
"You would require capital."
"Yes."
"How much?"
"Five gold."
Oswald straightened. "Five?"
"Minimum."
Wulfsige's expression hardened.
"House expenses are already strained."
"Then consider it preventative."
"In what?" his father asked.
"In preserving tax stability."
Silence pressed heavier.
A horn sounded faintly from the eastern wall.
Short.
Alert.
Hadrik's voice echoed across the courtyard.
Wulfsige's jaw tightened.
"You have two conditions."
Bradley remained still.
"First: this remains under House authority. No independent charter. No allegiance beyond this wall."
"Understood."
"Second: if this fails publicly, you leave this house."
Clear.
No room for appeal.
Bradley inclined his head.
"Accepted."
Oswald studied him.
"If this succeeds, Korvossa will notice."
"Yes."
"And they do not ignore militia growth."
"I know."
Candace watched him closely.
"This is about stability."
"Yes."
"For the town."
A brief pause.
"For the town."
That was enough.
By dusk, word began moving through Old Dornelis.
Not that a guild existed.
Only that something would.
Guards whispered in the barracks.
Farmers speculated at the well.
Two retired soldiers appeared near the southern quarter without invitation.
Captain Hadrik found Bradley once more near the eastern wall.
"You multiply variables," the captain said.
"Yes."
"Intentionally."
"Yes."
Hadrik studied him carefully.
"You understand goblins are not the largest threat."
"I do."
"And you proceed anyway."
"Yes."
The captain looked toward the forest.
"Then we adjust patrol routes tomorrow."
Bradley nodded.
"Tomorrow, we will adjust everything."
Behind them, the mounted goblin head shifted in the wind.
Proof.
Warning.
And perhaps—
Invitation.
Pressure had not lessened.
It had diversified.
Bradley turned from the wall and walked toward the southern quarter.
The tavern doors were shut.
Dust gathered along the windows.
A neglected structure.
Like the structure he intended to replace.
He rested a hand briefly against the worn wood.
Weak body.
Limited funds.
Uncertain manpower.
Escalating threat.
Good.
Constraint defined structure.
Tomorrow he would announce it publicly.
And if no one came—
He would stand inside alone.
For one day.
Then two.
Until structure existed where reaction once had.