Token of Gratitude

Leila stepped out into the courtyard, arms aching from too many late-night strategy sessions and early alarms. She was about to check on the farmland boundary when a watcher on the wall gave a sharp whistle. Instantly, orchard staff paused, heads turning.

"Caravan approaching!" the watcher called. "Two wagons, a few people on foot… they're not hostile so far."

Curiosity spiked. An unknown group? Another threat? But then Mark, who stood near the orchard gate, recognized a familiar banner fluttering at the wagon's rear. He exhaled in relief. "That's from the Redwood Enclave. Remember them from earlier arcs?"

Leila's tension eased somewhat. Redwood Enclave had shared a tenuous alliance with the orchard settlement some arcs ago—trading small amounts of ammo for orchard produce. They parted amicably, promising future cooperation. This was a potential good sign, unless infiltration threatened it.

"Open the gate cautiously," she told the watchers. "We greet them, but we keep an eye out. No infiltration surprises."

Tamsin's watchers nodded, weapons at the ready but not aimed. Harriet's group stepped aside politely, orchard staff gathering to observe. The orchard donkey, tied to a feed post, gave a curious snort as the gate creaked open.

Two wooden wagons rattled in, each drawn by a pair of lean horses. The small caravan was led by a man named Garrett, a grizzled figure Leila faintly recalled from Redwood's first meeting with them. He doffed a dusty hat in greeting. Behind him, Redwood enclavers carefully guided the wagons, which appeared laden with sacks and crates.

Garrett halted near the courtyard center. "Leila, Mark, orchard folks—good to see you again," he said, voice carrying a folksy warmth. "We heard about your trouble with Jace's band. Figured we'd bring a little something to show we stand by you."

He gestured to the wagon's contents. A younger Redwood enclaver hopped down, removing the tarps that covered the crates: inside were surplus seeds, a few medical supplies, and even a small box of salt—quite a luxury. A wave of murmured excitement rippled among orchard staff. Tamsin's watchers, though still watchful, relaxed minutely.

Leila approached, her posture guarded but polite. "Garrett, we appreciate this. I wasn't expecting Redwood Enclave to take such a risk, traveling here."

Garrett shrugged. "We heard about Jace's siege from travelers passing near Redwood. We figure… best to keep an ally strong than let them fall. We had extra seeds after a good season, a bit of surplus medicine. Not a fortune, but—" He waved a hand at the wagon. "Every little bit helps."

She exchanged a glance with Mark, who beamed. "This is more than we expected, truly," Mark said, gratitude evident. "Thank you."

The orchard donkey brayed as Redwood enclavers began unloading sacks of seeds—corn, beans, carrots. Fiona hurried forward, eyes sparkling. "We can re-diversify the farmland with these! It'll strengthen our next harvest."

Nearby orchard workers whispered excitedly, some rummaging in crates of medical bandages and basic antibiotics. Harriet's group also peered curiously, stepping forward to help. Tamsin's watchers kept a perimeter, scanning Redwood enclavers for any suspicious moves. But everything seemed genuine—no infiltration red flags, no hidden weapons. Garrett and his people displayed open hands, offering no sign of ill intent.

Leila's chest stirred with a cautious warmth. So Redwood Enclave truly wants to support us. Another anchor of hope, overshadowing old cynicism. But infiltration had taught her never to relax fully. Still, we can't treat every visitor as an enemy, she reminded herself, recalling Kai's gentle admonishments that some enclaves genuinely sought mutual support.

As Redwood enclavers and orchard staff bustled around the courtyard, unloading supplies, Mark sidled up to Leila. His eyes gleamed with an idea. "We should do something special—host a mini 'exchange fair' here. Strengthen alliances, maybe invite Redwood, Sunridge, and any other enclaves we trust. Show them what orchard farmland can offer, and see what they might trade."

Leila's brow furrowed. "A gathering with multiple enclaves at once? That's a big step."

Mark nodded, voice low. "Yes, but Redwood took a risk to bring us these gifts. Sunridge's knowledge could benefit Redwood, we can all share resources. We'd handle infiltration risk by tight screening at the gates, watchers posted, Tamsin's faction on alert."

Her chest tightened with reflexive worry. "You know infiltration thrives in crowds. A fair could be the perfect stage for sabotage."

Fiona overheard, nodding sympathetically. "We'd have watchers at every entry, searching gear, verifying identities. But the orchard settlement needs more alliances if we're to stand strong against Jace's next assault."

Leila swallowed. She's right. The orchard's farmland expansions were promising, but advanced water or solar from Sunridge combined with Redwood's seeds or Redwood's own trade goods might catapult them to new heights. She pictured infiltration sabotage—a horrifying possibility—but also saw the orchard's future success if alliances flourished. "Alright," she said at length, "but we do it with maximum caution. And keep it small."

Mark exhaled relief, a grin lighting his face. "We'll plan thoroughly. Don't worry."

As midday heat settled, Redwood enclavers completed unloading their gifts, orchard staff sorting seeds and medical supplies for safe storage. Harriet's group pitched in, helping ferry crates to the orchard's storeroom, Tamsin's watchers trailing them to ensure no infiltration attempt was made. Meanwhile, Redwood enclavers found a shady spot to rest, snacking on orchard produce as a token of hospitality.

Some orchard watchers wore skeptical expressions, echoing the sentiment: Why so elaborate a defense if Jace/Ellie are gone? But the orchard's leadership had repeated the warning: They always come back. Redwood enclavers looked uneasy at the mention of Jace's cunning. Many enclaves knew his band's reputation—a ghostly threat that reappeared whenever success took root.

While orchard staff convened a short ceremony of thanks—handing Redwood enclavers a hamper of fresh produce in return—Kai and Leila stood by, observing. The orchard donkey snorted from a corner, as if bored by all the fuss. A swirl of subdued optimism hung in the air. The orchard was forging alliances, not just cowering behind walls.

Kai nudged Leila gently, voice pitched low. "See? Some enclaves really do want mutual support, not infiltration or sabotage."

She glanced at him, heart twinging with conflicting emotions. "I know. It's just… I can't forget what infiltration can do, how Jace/Ellie manipulated so many enclaves. My cynicism protects us."

He gave a small, understanding nod. "Yes, it does. But letting alliances grow can also strengthen us against them. It's not one or the other."

She exhaled, letting that truth settle. "Fine. I see your point. A mini exchange fair—with tight screening—might be the next step."

After Redwood's caravan had spent the afternoon resting, orchard watchers escorted them back to the orchard gate at dusk. Garrett left behind a final note: "We'll keep in touch, might come for that exchange fair if it happens. Watch yourselves—rumors say Jace's group isn't fully beaten." He clasped Leila's hand, a genuine warmth in his gaze. "But it's good to see pockets of hope remain."

She nodded, sincerity edging her voice. "Safe travels, Garrett. We'll keep watch."

As Redwood's wagons rolled out into the fading light, orchard staff and watchers parted ways, returning to chores or bunking for the night. Harriet's group retreated under Tamsin's watchers' supervision, orchard donkey returning to its stable. The orchard settlement's new gifts—seeds, medical supplies—were stored in a locked storeroom, watchers assigned to guard. The orchard might feast a little better, treat the wounded more effectively. Small steps forward, Leila mused.

She lingered by the orchard fence, the last rays of sun casting the farmland in gold and shadow. The newly sown seeds, the fresh compost, the watchtower expansions, and now Redwood's gifts all signaled that the orchard was building a future beyond pure survival. Yet inside her chest, the knowledge that infiltration or Jace's next assault might unravel it all never fully receded.

Kai found her, the orchard lamplight dancing in his eyes. "We gained new seeds, more medical supplies, and Redwood's trust. That's a good day."

She nodded, lips quirking in a faint, wry smile. "It is. I just… remember infiltration nearly destroyed us once. Mark's idea of a bigger exchange fair looms, and I can't help but worry about sabotage. But I suppose we can't hide behind cynicism forever."

Kai's expression was gentle. "You won't let infiltration catch us off guard again. But trust is a weapon, too—trust that allies might shield us from Jace."

A soft hum of acceptance escaped her. She recalled how synergy between orchard watchers, Tamsin's faction, Harriet's group, and Redwood's gifts had already borne fruit. Maybe forging stronger bonds is the path forward, she thought, glancing at the farmland with a subdued longing to believe in a safer tomorrow.

As night descended, watchers patrolled with calm vigilance, orchard staff whispering about Redwood's generosity, Harriet's group quietly turning in for the evening, Tamsin's watchers finishing final checks at the orchard gates. Leila stood near the orchard's storeroom, verifying that Redwood's gifts were accounted for. The donkey dozed not far off, unperturbed by the orchard's subtle tension.

She parted ways with Kai after exchanging a few more words of cautious optimism. He insisted on reminding her that alliances could be genuine—that Redwood's token of gratitude wasn't a trick—and she gave him a small, grateful nod, though her heart still ached with caution. The memory of Jace/Ellie's betrayals weighed heavily, coloring every act of generosity with a hint of fear.

Yet the orchard settlement ended the day in a hopeful murmur. Redwood's caravan had proven some enclaves truly wanted mutual support, not infiltration or sabotage. Mark's notion of a mini exchange fair gained traction, orchard staff and watchers quietly intrigued by the possibility of forging lasting alliances. Tamsin's watchers, while suspicious, complied with thorough screening, trust building step by step.

Leila retreated to her quarters, letting the orchard's hush envelop her. She pictured the farmland expansions, Redwood's gifts safely stored, and the potential of an exchange fair bridging enclaves against Jace's looming threat. The orchard was forging onward, seeds of confidence sown in every corner, overshadowed but not defeated by the knowledge that Jace and Ellie always come back.