Chapter 10 — Extension of Authority V2
The first caravan under joint escort did not arrive with confidence.
It arrived with caution.
Three wagons from the southern road rolled toward Old Dornelis beneath a sky the color of dulled iron. The canvas covers were tied tight. Drivers kept hands near reins instead of draped lazily over them. Two hired swords rode alongside—men accustomed to guarding cargo, not trusting frontier assurances.
At the eastern gate, a second notice board stood beside the bounty ledger.
Joint Escort Provision — Merchant Association & House Tatume
Eight Silver per escort beyond perimeter.
Guard command retains engagement authority.
Incident reporting required within three days to Korvossa.
Clear.
Bounded.
Recorded.
Bradley stood beside Captain Hadrik as the caravan slowed.
The lead merchant squinted at the board.
"So it is official," he muttered.
"No," Bradley replied evenly. "It is documented."
The merchant looked at him carefully.
"That is not the same."
"No."
Documentation survived scrutiny.
Officialdom attracted it.
The first escort team numbered six.
Ulric and Halric for close defense.
Maelor and Deorwine at range.
Two guards were assigned visibly by Hadrik to preserve authority.
Bradley walked beside the second wagon.
Not at the front.
Not at the rear.
Visible, but not leading.
If he demanded legitimacy, he would share exposure.
The southern road cut through sparse woodland before bending east. Less open than the eastern perimeter. Narrower. More vulnerable.
Maelor signaled once.
Fresh tracks along the roadside.
Not goblins.
Too large.
Halric crouched.
"Orc?"
Maelor shook his head.
"Boot."
Hadrik's posture tightened slightly.
Boot meant human.
Bandits were different from monsters.
Monsters justified suppression.
Bandits embarrassed authority.
Bradley adjusted the calculation immediately.
If bandits tested escorts and succeeded, Korvossa would intervene faster than for goblins.
Because nobles tolerated monsters.
They did not tolerate loss of control.
They advanced cautiously.
Half a mile ahead, the road narrowed between two low ridges.
Bradley stopped walking.
Hadrik noticed instantly.
"Speak."
"Compression point," Bradley said quietly. "High ground advantage. Reduced maneuver."
Ulric glanced toward the ridges.
"Ambush-friendly."
"Yes."
Hadrik nodded.
"Tighter formation."
They did not retreat.
Retreat signaled weakness.
But they did not advance carelessly either.
Deorwine repositioned to rear coverage.
Maelor angled left toward the slope.
The first stone fell without warning.
Not heavy enough to shatter a wagon.
Heavy enough to announce presence.
Three figures appeared atop the ridge.
Humans.
Faces wrapped in cloth.
Blades rust-marked but serviceable.
Bandits.
One shouted down.
"Leave the rear wagon. No blood."
The caravan driver froze.
Halric swore under his breath.
Hadrik stepped forward at one pace.
"This road operates under House Tatume protection."
The bandit laughed.
"Your house is small."
Accurate.
Bradley stepped slightly closer to Hadrik—not ahead, not behind.
"Brief negotiation," he murmured.
Hadrik did not look at him.
"Quickly."
Bradley raised his voice.
"The rear wagon contains grain."
Silence.
The bandit leader tilted his head.
"And?"
"Grain spoils when spilled."
A pause.
"You prefer coins," Bradley continued. "Coins can be negotiated."
Ulric shot him a sideways glance.
Halric frowned.
The bandit leaned casually on his blade.
"You offer a coin?"
"I offer predictability."
A short laugh from above.
"We are not merchants."
"No," Bradley agreed. "You are opportunists."
Silence stretched.
Bradley continued evenly.
"This road will be escorted regularly from today forward. Each attempt increases your exposure."
The leader spat.
"And today?"
"Today you measure response."
A longer silence.
Maelor's bow remained drawn.
Hadrik's hand stayed steady at his sword.
Bradley spoke again.
"If you withdraw now, you remain unrecorded."
The word lingered.
Recorded.
Bandits feared documentation more than blades.
Documentation brought mounted knights.
And mounted knights did not negotiate.
The leader studied them carefully.
Six escorts.
Two visible guards.
Structured.
Not frightened farmers.
Not isolated wagons.
He weighed the cost.
Then lifted his hand.
The bandits stepped back from the ridge.
Not fleeing.
Withdrawing.
Halric exhaled slowly.
Ulric muttered under his breath.
Hadrik did not relax until the ridge cleared.
Only then did he glance at Bradley.
"You risked a coin."
"I risked reputation."
"They may return with more."
"Yes."
"And then?"
Bradley met his gaze.
"Then escalation clarifies jurisdiction."
Hadrik's eyes narrowed faintly.
Not comforted.
Not displeased.
The caravan reached the halfway post without further incident.
Eight Silver per escort was distributed before return.
Publicly logged.
Two additional caravans were scheduled by evening.
Revenue diversified.
Burn rate stabilized.
For now.
But political exposure increased.
Because success invited imitation.
And imitation invited attention.
Back in the tavern, Oswald entered without knocking.
"You confronted bandits."
"Yes."
"And resolved without blood."
"Yes."
Oswald studied him.
"You understand what that means."
"Yes."
"If bandits spread word of structured escort, others will test."
"Yes."
"And if they coordinate?"
Bradley closed the ledger slowly.
"Then visible knight endorsement becomes necessary."
Oswald's gaze sharpened.
"You seek Korvossa approval."
"I seek conditional acknowledgment."
"And if acknowledgement becomes oversight?"
"Oversight is preferable to prohibition."
Oswald exhaled quietly.
"You are narrowing maneuver space each week."
"Yes."
"And your body?"
Bradley flexed his shoulder briefly.
It protested.
"It functions."
"That was not my question."
Bradley met his brother's gaze evenly.
"It endures."
Oswald studied him longer.
"You are not pursuing glory."
"No."
"Not redemption."
"No."
"Then why extend beyond suppression?"
Bradley did not answer immediately.
The tavern was quiet.
Names written in ink.
Coins recorded.
Blades resting along the wall.
"Because disorder multiplies," he said at last. "And multiplication is expensive."
Oswald's expression shifted subtly.
Recognition.
"That is not how nobles think."
"No."
"It is how stewards do."
Bradley inclined his head slightly.
"Yes."
Oswald's mouth tightened faintly.
"If this grows, you will not remain a second son."
Bradley held his gaze.
"Then the structure must already exist."
Oswald left without further comment.
That night, Bradley walked the eastern wall alone.
The forest remained still.
The southern road is quiet.
The town lit with modest confidence.
Three postings hung beneath the gate lantern.
Subjugation Contract.
Joint Escort Provision.
Material Resale Ledger.
Structured.
Visible.
Bounded.
For now.
His legs felt heavier than usual.
The day's march had not been trivial.
His shoulder throbbed more sharply than the previous night.
Improvement was incremental.
Fatigue accumulated faster.
Below, a guard called quietly to another.
Routine.
Normal.
That was the point.
Goblins tested fences.
Orcs tested strength.
Bandits tested authority.
Korvossa tested legality.
Pressure layered.
And now authority extended outward.
Extension invited resistance.
He leaned against the cold stone and exhaled slowly.
Tomorrow he will draft a formal petition to Korvossa.
Not independence.
Not ambition.
Conditional charter recognition framed as merchant necessity.
Because authority that expands without acknowledgment eventually provokes correction.
Better to invite supervision than to invite suppression.
From the western darkness, an owl lifted briefly.
Then silence again.
He looked toward the southern road instead of the forest.
If bandits regrouped—
The next attempt would not ask for grain.
It would test blood.
And if blood was drawn under joint escort—
Korvossa would not send a steward.
They would send mounted knights.
Recognition had been granted.
Consequences had followed.
Extension now required endorsement.
Or confrontation.
Behind him, Old Dornelis slept with more confidence than a month ago.
Which meant there was more to lose.
Bradley straightened from the wall slowly.
The town held.
For now.
But holding had grown heavier.
And something beyond the ridgeline had just learned that House Tatume no longer avoided the road.