The town was abuzz with excitement and activity. Even with the smell of smoke that lingered in the heart of Dalmarin, those not at work in the fields crowded the windows and the alleys as the wagon train threaded its way to the still smoldering ruins of the station. This far into the shield lands, traders were an infrequent sight, and they would generally arrive with two or three wagons at most. There was simply nothing that cities needed that they couldn’t find closer to home. It was that inconvenient distance as much as the views of the towering mountains that made the place a quiet paradise.

But now it was almost as busy as it would normally get at the peak of harvest season when every farmer was bringing in and threshing their grain before getting it stitched up in sacks and sending it below. This time though, it wasn’t wheat that was being loaded on to trains: it was everything that they were going to need to fight a war. Coal and sacks of wheat were offloaded, and then one by one, the contents of the wagons that had been carried so far were loaded on in its place. The mules would be loaded too, but only just before they prepared to depart.

By now the next few stations would be growing nervous that the scheduled train never arrived. Messengers might have already been sent, but it would take them days to get someone that could make decisions, and by then Jon and everyone on his side would be long gone. They had a few stops left to make before they reached Jon’s chosen battlefield of course, but they’d made sure to throw that location around to each and every noble and warden that they’d displaced over the last few months that the King was sure to have someone waiting there to face them.

He had to. The valley was a key strategic location between here and the White City. It had once been nothing more than a swampy series of lakes, and marshlands, but dwarven magic had transformed it. Now it wasn’t just a coveted area of fertile farmland, but a key choke point for the whole region, and Jon had chosen it with care to be the site of their first major victory.

Now wasn’t the time to be counting victories before the battles were won, and he forced himself to focus on the task at hand. The sooner they finished with the train, the sooner he could take his friends back to Shaw manor and celebrate their arrival, and the sooner he did that the sooner he could be alone with his Elise. Jon’s smile brightened just thinking about it. It had been too long since they’d last gotten to share a bed, and they’d never gotten to share one that was a comfortable as the one in his boyhood home. Who knew when they’d get the opportunity again after this. It was an opportunity they’d have to make the most of, but only after they saw just how much damage they could do the manor’s wine cellar.

The rest of the day was uneventful, and save for a particularly brutal dressing down from Miss Marne as he returned home to check on the status of their celebratory feast, it was one of the best days in a long time. Jon had found room for Rian and a few others in some of the spare rooms of the mansion, but almost everyone else had pitched their tents on the front lawn or underneath the orchard outback. Even if his housekeeper was right, and he had invited a plague of man shaped locusts into their larder, it was still worth it to him to see the best part of his army brought together like this.

It was a small army, to be sure, at a little less than 200 true believers, but the dwarvish brands they all carried, and the fact that most of them needed no powder to use them, meant that they punched far above their weight, even without Jon and his magics. Together like this he thought they could take on a thousand men and as long as they didn’t have too many horses, they might not lose a single fighter, so as long as he picked his battles carefully and kept a few steps ahead of the kingdom below, they should be fine.

“So this is really where you grew up?” Elise asked, announcing her presence with the question as she walked into the room and joined him by the window overlooking all the activity outside. “I thought you said your home was a simple one?”

“This is a simple house, for a noble family,” he answered without looking away from the window, trying not to sound defensive.

“Jon - I don’t know how to tell you this, but if you have your own bathroom, then your home isn’t exactly a simple one.” There was a smile on her lips as she teased him that he could hear even before he turned to see it.

“Well, that’s hardly fair,” he said seriously as he turned to her and grasped her hands. “I’ve never had my own bathroom. I shared it with my brother.” His serious lasted only as long as it took for her jaw to drop at his audaciousness. Then they both laughed.

“I can’t believe you,” she said, swatting at him playfully. “Me - I don’t see how you could have ever turned your back on this kind of luxury. I’m not sure that I could have.”

“I didn’t,” he answered, his smile fading. “They took it from me. Remember? If they’d just left me alone I’d probably still be here scribbling away for the dwarves while you and Rian and so many others still worked at the cannery and the mudflats in Pearl Islet.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered quietly. “I didn’t mean—”

“It’s fine,” Jon responded, keeping his tone even. “I might not have been able to leave all this if they hadn’t forced me, but once we’re done fighting for the cause I’m going to build a life like this for us again.”

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“You know. Something nice and simple,” he said a moment later with a playful smile, earning him another swat.

“Simple,” she shook her head with a laugh. “At this rate you’ll end up as the new King, and all you’ll want to do is complain about how fancy your castle is.”

“Well - not if it’s a simple one. Then—”

“Enough,” she laughed, as she started unbuttoning her shirt as she walked over to inspect the tub. “You can be cute later. Right now I desperately need a bath.”

“The tub has already been filled,” he said gesturing to the large wooden wash basin. Unfortunately it wasn’t quite big enough for him to join her, but he was sure he’d get the chance to appreciate her beauty later.

He wanted a moment, for her to dip a toe in and note how chilly the water was. Only then did he reach up the slate roof tiles that had been baking all day in the sun, and pull enough heat to from them to make it start to steam.

“Oh you,” she cooed, standing there close to topless. “How can a girl help but love a man that can give her a hot bath whenever she wants. You spoil me Jonathan Shaw.” After that she closed the door, breaking the spell, which was fine. There was plenty left for him to do before dinner in a few hours.

Jon walked the grounds, saying a few words to each of the little subgroups that made up his little army. They were mostly organized around the towns and villages they’d come from when they’d liberated them from the greed of the powers that be. Eventually, just before sunset he finally found the Dalmarin contingent, which made him smile despite himself.

“Well look who decided to join the party,” Jon said as he noticed Juni sitting around with a few other familiar faces around the start of the campfire. “I thought you’d decided to stay here, with your family, Juni.”

“I am,” he said with a tone that was almost as sharp as the look he gave Jon when he turned to him. “I’m just trying to convince some of your converts here that this is a bad idea, and when you leave, they should just watch you go.”

“Well that’s quite the change of heart,” Jon said, forcing himself to sound disappointed. “I thought you believed in the cause.”

“I did,” he answered before he quickly corrected himself. “I mean I do, but that was when I thought you were bringing an army.”

“Well what do you call this, if not an army?” Jon forced himself to smile as he addressed the point, but that only masked his annoyance. He’d had this argument with his own lieutenants often enough. The last thing he needed was someone who nothing about the plan second guessing him

“Well according to all the stories I’ve heard, an army is supposed to be, you know. Bigger.” Juni practically spat that last word like it was some kind of trump card in their conversation, but Jon just shrugged.

“Almost 200 people just walked through Dalmarin. There are tents as far as the eye can see in every direction, and that still isn’t enough to impress you?” Jon laughed. "That’s more than the whole population of the valley if you don’t count the farms that are furthest out.”

“You’re right,” Juni nodded, “But that just means you’ve got two villages instead of one. That still isn’t an army now is it?”

“Who says this is the whole thing?” Jon asked with a smile, even though it was. They might pick up a few more people here and there, but until they really showed how weak the powers that be were, he couldn’t really expect anyone but the true believers to side with them, and exaggerating was easier than explaining. People wanted a sure thing before they made their bet, and while Jon couldn’t give them that, a powerful victory would go a long way towards it.

“But even if you double this, and double it again…” Juni’s words trailed off as he tried and failed to do that math. “Doesn’t the king have ten thousand armored men? And the dwarves - the dwarves are supposed to have more than that. They say—”

When the edge of fear started to show itself plainly in his old friend’s words, Jon interrupted him. “Those are just lies Juni. It's true that there are more dwarves than you can possibly believe below us, but very few of them are warriors. I’ve been to the White City and the deeps. I’ve got a good idea of what we're up against - I probably know better than anyone, and I have no doubt that we can win.”

That wasn’t the whole truth, but it wasn’t a lie either. No one that he knew had been to either place, and he’d been to both. That was worth more than all the storytellers he’d ever heard, but it didn’t change the fact that they were outnumbered at least 500 to 1, but they would never face a fraction of those soldiers at once, and with every victory their numbers would swell.

“Maybe,” Juni said doubtfully, “But if you’re wrong an awful lot of people are going to die. Doesn’t that worry you?”

“Far more people will die if I’m right, than if I’m wrong Juni,” Jon said sadly. “I understand that you have a family and that you aren’t afraid but—”

“I’m not!” Juni said defensively.

“I know, that’s what I said,” Jon answered, knowing full well that that was exactly what he’d implied by saying the opposite. “You aren’t afraid, but the world needs changing, and someone has got to be the one to do it.”

“Maybe the things can’t be changed,” Juni countered, but Jon just shrugged.

“Not from here they can’t, but dwarven magic says that if you stand in just the right place, and you use just enough force with just the right fulcrum, then you can do anything, and in another week or two we’re going to find out if that’s true or not.”

“What if it’s not?” The cobbler asked.

“What if it is?” Jon countered with a question. The response played well with his true audience, which had never been Juni. He wasn’t going to go with them no matter what Jon said, but the rest of them were, and they let out a ragged cheer in response. Juni tried to re-engage the argument further, but Jon didn’t let that happen. He had a dinner waiting, and a beautiful woman to have it with.