Stronghold

After examining him for far too long, the guard vanished into the estate.

The gate moaned open after a few minutes.

Baron Atkins sat in the hall in a chair that looked like a throne. 

Each finger had a ring. 

A plump goblet of wine remained unopened, quivering a little as he moved around in his chair.

Atkins said, feigning laughter. "Has House Talvace really dropped this low? Mercenaries are now coming and demanding people." 

Steven did not bow or make any small talk. 

He just moved forward and met his gaze. "I am here to see Rosina Talvace released, the young lady that you locked away."

Laughing, the Baron said. "Her family owes me more money than you or individuals like you could ever imagine."

Steven curled his mouth a little. "Then your dreams might be too insignificant."

The room became quiet.

Baron Atkins giggled and leaned forward. "You have self-confidence, I find that appealing. You do not understand, though; money is not the issue here." 

He paused and then continued. "Control is the key. That young lady... guarantees obedience."

Steven cocked his head. "Without a solid foundation, control is a mirage."

The Baron squinted.

Steven said with ease. "Release the girl, take a payment, and leave House Talvace alone. I promise to forgive all your past atrocities."

"What if I decline?" Then he asked.

Steven answered. "Then I will have to put your power to scrutiny." 

The silence lasted for a while. 

The Baron examined Steven, who was composed, calm, and lethal. 

He was filled with confidence, not arrogant. 

The sort that made even the most dishonest people uneasy.

Atkins whispered. "You dress like a wanderer, and yet your voice echoes like a noble voice." 

Steven grinned more firmly. "It is less expensive to change clothes."

The Baron laughed, and his eyes grew apprehensive. "I will let the girl go. However, do not return here threatening people, sellsword."

Steven gave a single nod. "I would not have to,"

A few minutes later, Rosina was brought out, exhausted and bruised but proud. 

The sight of Steven made her freeze. "Who are you?"

"Someone here to settle debts," he uttered quietly. "Come on."

Twyford gave him a sidelong glance as they walked out of the gates. "That was fast. The Baron trembled at the sound of your voice." 

Steven remarked. "The Baron will reconsider before he bites again. Next time? I am not going to knock."

Even though her wrists were bruised, Rosina walked beside him with steady steps. 

Lord Durwin waited at the gates, anxiously watching with a furrowed brow. 

He felt relief wash over his grizzled face when he saw Rosina.

"You got her back." Durwin broke his voice and whispered.

After saying, "She is safe now," Steven turned to face the steward. "Gather the others and inform them that Lord Durwin has summoned a family council."

The steward winced but nodded and hurried away.

Durwin looked over at Steven. "Do you think this will be helpful? The majority of them only give a damn about the meager scraps they have managed to get together."

Steven looked at him sternly. "Then we will find out who traded their honor to earn coins and if anybody still has the Talvace name in their hearts."

The hall was filled with whispers by candlelight. 

It had been several decades since the room had so many visitors. 

A dozen men and women, members of what had once been a noble lineage feared by many, settled across benches and padded chairs.

One round-faced man twirled a wine goblet and sneered, "This is ridiculous. A council when the entire family has died except for their name?"

"He is correct," a thin woman dressed in silk remarked. 

Durwin held up a hand. "Enough."

Next, he pointed to Steven and remarked, "Rosina was retrieved from the prison by him today."

Gazing around the table, they set their sights on Steven as he remained silent.

A younger man snorted close to the end. "Are we expected to follow a hired blade? If we fail, what becomes of our children?"

At last, Steven spoke up in a composed tone. "I do not need you to follow me so you can go back to your dark corners. Nevertheless, if you are sick of being scavengers and eating the remains, then listen."

The silence dragged on as his voice echoed in the hall.

He remarked. "Headow is suffering, and there is hardly enough to feed your own children. You are kept in place by a group of pampered thugs because none of you are willing to take action."

He scanned the room and proposed. "I have something different to offer, strength and prosperity. Together we can restore the prestige and power of House Talvace."

Someone mockingly said. "Big words coming from a sellsword." 

Steven had a slight smile. "A sellsword who forced Baron Atkins to back down and doubt his strength."

That momentarily silenced the scoffers.

Steven added. "Lord Durwin has promised to do the same. I need a handful of people who are still optimistic about the future."

The thin woman made a clicking sound with her tongue. "For another idiot, I will not risk my neck. I am heading out."

With a few more murmurs of agreement, they stood up and walked out of the hall.

However, some were left. 

Robert was one of them. 

The door closed behind the deserters, and Durwin let out a long sigh. "So few."

Steven spun around, his eyes blazing with silent determination. "It is sufficient. Fire only requires a spark."

Still wearing dust from the road, Clinton strode into the small courtyard. 

Sitting beneath the lone olive tree, Steven silently sharpened his blade.

Next to him, Rosina was organizing herbs into tiny bags.

Clinton sighed as he took off his gloves. "We were unable to purchase the house back."

Steven kept his head down. "Baron Atkins?"

Clinton responded. "He made no effort to conceal it."

A pause ensued. 

The blade brushed against the whetstone in a whisper.

"I understand," mumbled Steven.

Rosina furrowed her brow. "You appear unsurprised."

"I am not," Steven declared. 

At last, he raised his head, his eyes glinting coldly. "As soon as I found out who owned the estate, I realized it would not be that simple. I had to give it a try, though."

Clinton folded his arms. "What comes next?"

Standing, Steven declared, "We cannot flee simply because they blocked one of our routes. If we exhibit weakness at this time, the jackals will detect blood."

Wiping her hands, Rosina took a step forward. "There is a different location."

Both men looked at her.

She hastily added. "Although it is not much, it is technically Talvace land. In the southern section, close to the deserted district, my grandfather had a small mansion."

Clinton frowned. "That region? Half of it is in ruins."

Rosina said, a faint smile teasing her lips, "Exactly, nobody is interested in it. The foundations are still solid, and silence is necessary if you intend to restore the Talvace name—away from prying eyes."

Steven nodded a little. "It might work."

Clinton gave a head tilt. "Are you certain about this?"

Steven turned and said, "I am going to check the place first." 

Rosina followed him with a smile on her face. "I will take you there right away."

"I will inform the men," Clinton declared. "To be honest, though, I dislike the sound of the abandoned district. It has the smell of thieves and rats."

Steven had a sly smile. "Good. The more dangerous they perceive it to be, the fewer adversaries will be observing."

With their horses in tow, the trio rode out through Headow. 

As they traversed crowded marketplaces and dilapidated lanes, Steven surveyed the horizon. 

Finally, they arrived at the abandoned district. 

Rosina gestured ahead. "We have arrived."

The building was low and tucked away behind olive tree groves. 

Clinton pushed open the creaking gate to reveal a courtyard overrun with weeds. 

Windows with arches. 

Heavy walls of stone. 

Mosaics under the grime faded.

Steven dismounted the horse and entered the gate slowly. 

Exhaling, he put his hand on a stone pillar. "This will become our stronghold."

"Are you certain?" Rosina inquired.

He smiled at her, a rare, self-assured smile. "The city has forgotten about it and left it behind, and it is buried in silence which came it ideal."

Clinton mumbled, "I would not be cleaning up after rats if they appeared."

It had been days since Steven laughed loudly. "We will arm them with swords and declare them recruits."

He walked towards the dusty main hall as Rosina was leading the way. 

A few minutes later, a man appeared behind her. 

Steven recognized the face—one of the three men who had been beaten in the streets. 

"Remember him," Rosina remarked. "He was determined to assist, I questioned him about his skills."

Steven looked up. "And?"

Rosina pointed. "Robert was an apprentice blacksmith before the collapse of our family."

Steven stated. "Blades alongside hammers will be more important than gold. Are you still able to forge?"

"Yes, I never lost sight of the craft. l will need a proper forge," Robert remarked. 

Steven said plainly, "Good, we start tonight. If you know others like you, bring them."