“So, what do you think?” Mark said, eyeing Payon as he attempted to read the broad man’s expression. It was stony-faced and never seemed to change much, but he was confident the man's slightly bent, bushy brow wasn't a sign of hostility despite its crude appearance.

“Aye, I should be able to get this done. I've made pipes on a few occasions but in the Imperium. But what’s all this?” Payon said, pointing to the diagram of the steam engine.

“Just a little something that will change life as we know it.”

“That doesn’t sound like a little something to me,” the wide man’s bushy brow curled.

“Intrigued, are you?” Mark grinned.

“Aye, you could say that.”

“Well, this is something I call the Winterclaw Machine. It funnels high-pressure steam through these tubes, which moves the pistons and, in turn, this crankshaft.”

“I don’t know what half of that means.”

“That’s fine,” Mark waved. “The point is, with the steam, we make something move.”

“And?”

“Once you’ve done that, you’ve created power. And that power can be used to complete tasks. For example, our first task will be to connect this to the mill I’ve designed. By turning this gear here,” he added, fingering points along the diagram. “We can set the grinder into motion. It’s simple, but that’s all we need. As the rigar bark is ground down into its refined form, it will fall out through this grate here.”

“It’ll be no easy task to move that thing. Think this little contraption of yours will be strong enough?”

“Payon, don’t you worry about that. This machine will have more than enough strength to do what we need it to do.”

“Impressive,” Jaddrick said. “The stone parts should be quite easy to make. But I’ll need good, workable stone.”

“Right. See my acolytes about that. They should be able to organize someone to find something for you.”

“Thank you, Imperator. But I’ll need to go with them to make sure they get something of suitable quality.”

“That's also easily arranged.”

“Okay, well, if that’s a–”

Knocks rattled the door of Mark’s cabin.

“Enter," Mark turned to the door.

An out-of-breath acolyte stormed in, panting. “Imperator, it’s that weird feral–I mean–commoner, Weedy Eye. He says he’s got important news for you.

“Thank you. Dismissed, Acolyte. Payon, Jaddrick,” Mark nodded to the two men. “I must be off. If you could build the requested items, I would be grateful. But please, if Elowen requests something urgently, see that it’s done.”

“Yes, sir,” the craftsmen echoed.

***

Passing out through the outer walls and into the surrounding forest—which had been pushed back a couple of dozen yards thanks to intentional deforesting—Mark found Weedy Eye.

“Hello there, Imperator,” the man with knotted, graying hair flashed a smile crooked enough to make a child scream.

“Weedy Eye,” Mark nodded. “You’ve got news for me?”

“Aye, that I do. Good and bad. That little thorn in ye side, Imperator Eamon—he's as unlikely as a drunken aunt to make any moves. Burdened with his own problems, as he is. Supply caravans have stopped almost entirely across the Frontier, from what I ‘ear. Whisper has it the Federation got your big old Legate scared. Apparently, he's been stocking up. Might even be plannin’ an attack.”

“Wait,” Mark shook. “The Legate is planning on attacking the Barbarian Federation?”

“That’s what I ‘eard. All rumor, of course. Nuffin’ too trustworthy. But yous better be careful. All kinds a chaos gonna happen if he cuts off the head, so to speaks.”

“Damn it,” Mark gritted his teeth. “We might not be allies, but humans killing each other when a horde of wargs is coming doesn’t seem like the best decision-making.”

“Aye, but ye a strange one, Imperator. Not many yous fellas believes in us stories.”

“So, Imperator Eamon doesn’t have supplies and, from the sounds of it, hasn’t found alternatives like we have in Fort Winterclaw?”

“On the nose, Imperator. Not in a good spot he is. Doubt he’ll be in a position to be attackin’ a horde of chickens anytime soon. Let alone a fort.”

That’s good news, at least. But I’ll still need to keep an eye on him. Just because he can’t do anything about me right now doesn’t mean he might not try later.

“Good. Thanks for the information, Weedy Eye. It’s been helpful. But are you able to keep an eye on Eamon?”

Stolen novel; please report.

“Aye, I’ve got a fella who can sort ‘em out. Spyin’ and all that.”

“Good. Who knows what he might try if he gets his situation under control? I want to know as soon as possible if anything substantial changes in his fort. I must go now. I’ve important business to see to.”

“Aye, Imperator,” Weedy Eye gave a mock salute. “Be seeing you.”

“Weedy Eye,” Mark nodded and turned for the fort.

***

Mark immediately requested that Elowen stock a wagon for a journey to the miasmic fields and headed to his cabin.

There was no time to waste. If he left now, he should be able to attempt the throne ship’s retrieval and return within a week or so before winter proper.

First, though, he had to make sure that his plans were laid out and simple to follow for his people while he was gone.

Winter didn’t necessarily mean that the wargs would be marching on Fort Winterclaw immediately, but he wanted to essentially treat it as such and have as much ready as he possibly could.

The steam engine parts would come first, and he would attempt to assemble them on his return. He then set plans to have the smith start work on the barbed wire as a priority.

He also requested that the moment the walls were up his people would start digging out the trench he wanted.

Unfortunately, there really wasn’t an appropriate alternative to putting Henric in charge while he was gone. He prayed that the man had come over to his side of thinking enough not to lead the fort astray, but he couldn’t really see any way to confirm this. He just had to hope that the risk was worth it.

Most of his valuable assets would also be required to remain at the fort, however, with a mission as important as this, he decided it would be wise to bring others with him.

From the vague memory of Atlas’s journey, he saw the Imperator head out alone into the foothills shrouded by miasma. He wasn’t sure if that was because he wanted to protect his underlings from danger or if he just didn’t trust them to be helpful.

Either way, Atlas had failed. Bringing someone with him would no doubt endanger them as well, but if he died, then the fort was likely doomed, and all of the Imperials within it.

Callum is skilled and hard-headed, and the fort will be fine without him. Some strength would be useful, as well, to help with the wagon.

Mark scribbled notes as he thought. I hope they can get along… But who else is there? Trayox and the other common laborers are too useful to help get the walls up. I can’t take them. The only one who makes sense is Radic.

The boys had a history, but surely they wouldn’t do anything stupid with him around. And they were both competent.

Mark hummed on the thought for a moment. They were the only suitable people to join him and who wouldn’t take too much value away from the fort.

They would also need two horses for the supply wagon, bolts, crossbows, and swords. He also requested axeheads, nails, and iron coins to be added to the supplies.

If they found ferals along the way who could be persuaded to head toward Fort Winterclaw, it made sense to try to convince them. And iron goods were always a great way to do that.

He also made a makeshift respirator. He didn’t want to rely on his untrained handiwork, but some charcoal, cloth, and fibrous materials might be enough to save him from the toxic fumes if he had no other choice.

Look, I wouldn’t pay for it, but it’s not half bad if I do say so myself. Mark thought as he held the homemade mask up. At least it's better than nothing...

**Acolytes—Callum**

“I can’t believe he picked you,” Erin whined as Callum packed his stuff in their cabin. “You’re actually going on a mission with the Imperator himself. That’s so much cooler than hiring a few craftsmen.”

“And more dangerous. Not to mention he’s bringing Radic along.”

“I thought you buried that hatchet.”

“I did,” Callum shrugged. “But I don’t think he’s too happy about me. Although, I doubt even that dumbass is stupid enough to try anything with the Imperator around. Though, if I had a choice, I’d be taking someone else.”

“Like me?”

“Maybe,” Callum teased. “Depends how useful you could make yourself.”

“Hey! You know I’m as capable as any other acolyte.”

“I dunno. You say that but–”

“Zip it, you. Before you say anything you’ll regret.”

“Calm down. Besides, I think the true potential is staying back here, anyway.”

“What do you mean?” Erin perked a brow.

“Isn’t it obvious? Me and Radic are going along as glorified pack mules. But what happens in the fort while we’re going will show the Imperator who he can rely on. It’s a chance to prove yourself. Step up and show him that he doesn’t need to do everything himself to keep this fort from pulling itself apart. He needs reliable people, and I have a feeling that he’ll be deciding who he can rely on based on everyone's performance while he’s gone.”

“Wow, Callum. You’re actually smart. I hadn’t thought about it like that, but you’re probably right. It’s not like you’re going to be able to do anything the Imperator can’t. But we can while he is gone.”

“Right. And he’s not going to take anyone away from the fort that is too valuable to it. Although, that probably doesn’t include you.”

“Hey, I thought you were being nice!”

“I'm being honest. That’s what you like, isn’t it? Don’t take it as an insult. Besides the boys in the smithy and Elowen, I’m not sure any of the acolytes are vitally important. Well, maybe Erald. I’m sure a bunch of new injuries will show up any time now.”

“He needs the tribunes to keep the ferals in order and get the walls built. And he needs the masters to keep the whole thing stitched together,” Erin mused aloud.

“Exactly,” Callum turned from his packing to wave a finger. “But that gives a lot of room to prove yourself. If you really want to be favored by him, that is. Help make sure his instructions are followed and completed, and I’m pretty confident he’s going to put a whole lot more responsibility on your shoulders. Again, If that’s what you want.”

“It is,” Erin said with a defiant nod. “I don’t just want to be furniture sitting around in this place. I want to be part of the solution.”

“Great. Well, here’s your chance. Meanwhile, I’ll be trying not to die from toxic fumes.”

“You’re joking,” Erin narrowed her gaze on Callum. “But be careful, seriously. Plenty of people die out there all the time, even on the roads that are meant to be safe. All it takes is one powerful gust of wind and… you know.”

“I know. I’ll do my best and hope the Imperator knows what he’s doing.”

“Good luck. You’ll need it,” Erin flashed a sober smile.

**Imperator**

With his orders in place and the little party gathered and ready to leave, Mark officially placed Henric in control of the fort.

“Make sure everything goes to plan, Master Henric. Our lives will depend on it.”

“These plans you’ve given us… they’re a little strange.”

“I’m aware, Henric. But please, trust them. They’ll improve the defenses of this fort more than you can imagine. And with them, we might stand a chance against what’s coming.”

Henric nodded. “Don’t get yourself killed out there. I’ll be damned if I take responsibility for what this fort has become.”

Mark smiled and shook his head. “Never change, Henric,” he planted a hand on his shoulder. "And I have no intention of dying, so don’t worry about that. I’ll be back before you know it—and well before any other Imperials come marching around here. You won’t have to be the face of my decision-making.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

“Alright, you do that,” Mark turned and waved a hand above his head. “Let’s get moving then. There’s no time to waste.”

The two acolytes nodded to their Imperator and urged the horses on as the wagon began to rattle down the dirt path.

Finally, Mark would get to see a little more of this new world he found himself in.