When scouts returned with news that no wargs or cultists had been spotted in the surrounding lands, Mark sent out his people. There could be no telling how long his enemies and rivals would remain distracted from fighting one another, and he needed to make the most of the power vacuum growing across the Frontier.

First, he sent people to reestablish control over the outposts they had started construction on and increased patrols across the land.

The patrols had two goals: one, to cement Fort Winterclaw’s power over the region, and two, to spread the word of what the fort had achieved and Mark’s leadership.

If patrols ran into ferals still living in the area or traveling through it, they were to tell them about the fort, the work available, and how they had beaten an army of cultists and were building their forces up to take out the wargs themselves. The hope was that this would inspire them to join or support the fort somehow.

The patrols would also provide early warning if the wargs or another threat turned their attention on Winterclaw, allowing Mark to send the troops that would have otherwise been required to defend the walls on patrol.

The returns on these policies started to show themselves almost immediately as more ferals made contact with Fort Winterclaw. This was aided by the fact that more had fled in the wake of the marching armies. These people had nowhere to go, and when they learned that Fort Winterclaw hadn't just defeated one of these armies but was patrolling and securing the land, they flooded toward it.

**Caravan**

A few days after leaving Fort Winterclaw, the trade caravan rolled up to Frostwind Trader’s Post. The eerie sight sent a chill tingling down Clay’s spine. Last time they were here, men stood proudly on guard at the open gates, but now not only were the gates closed, but the figures on the wall kept hunched profiles with their crossbows aimed at the ready.

“Hello, people of Frostwind, we’ve come to trade,” Leonard said, stepping ahead of the caravan and extending his hands to his sides. “Would you be so kind to open your gates?”

“What mad assholes are still traveling the wilderness with those damned wolves out there?” One of the men on the wall shouted back.

“This mad asshole," Leonard patted his chest. "And the followers of Imperator Atlas.”

“Bullshit. All the Imperial slaves ran off; we seen it for ourselves. There ain't no Imperators this far north anymore.”

Leonard turned to Clay with a crooked brow and then back to the men on the wall. “What do you mean they ran off?”

“Got a hearing problem, do ye? Like I said, all them slaves serving the Imperium fled when wargs were sighted. Even the guilders left with them. Just us free men in here now.”

“Now that’s interesting,” Leonard said, only loud enough for Clay and the caravan guards to hear. "Something isn't right about all this."

“They’ve fled back to the Imperium? What are we still doing here? Maybe we can catch up.”

Leonard chuckled, “It’s far too late for that, Clay. Besides, times like this are opportunities for fortune-seeking men like you and me.”

“Fortune-seeking?” Clay shook his head. “Speak for yourself. I just want a safe, warm bed and something to eat.”

“Ah, what a shame. A boy your age should aim higher. But don't worry, you’ll be fine. Leonard, the Great Caravan Master, will make sure of it.” Leonard said, smacking Clay’s back.

“Oi! What in the God-Lord’s anus are ye bastards yapping about down there?” The guard on the wall shouted.

“Just saying how much we’d love a fire to warm our hands around,” Leonard called back. “Would you, gentlemen, be so kind as to allow us entry?”

No reply came, but the gates began to creak open a short moment later.

“Keep your guard up. I’m obviously not the biggest fan of the Imperium, but without them keeping an eye on these dodgy bastards, they could do anything."

Clay nodded, and they slowly drove the caravan into the fort, the wagon's guards raising their shields high and tightening their grips on their weapons.

Inside, the suspicious gazes from dozens of men wrapped up in furs met them. They stood beside the cabins and held swords and crossbows.

“Is someone in charge around here?” Leonard asked as they pulled the caravan up into the middle of the cabins.

“Not really, but ye can talk to me,” a scruffy man wearing a chain shirt over rough furs said, stepping toward them. “The name’s Figgy,” he flashed a near-toothless smile and extended a bandaged hand.

“Nice to meet you,” Leonard took his hand, fighting back a grimace. “You're not in charge, but you talk for the other men?”

“Aye, something like that,” Figgy cackled.

Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

“If no one is in charge, who are you supposed to be? A former mercenary captain, maybe?”

“Not in the slightest. But I get me noggin straight,” he added, tapping his forehead. "And that's enough to be doing the talkin' around 'ere."

"Right. So, it's just you lot?" Leonard said, eyeing the men staring at them. "Everyone else left?"

“You got it,” Figgy nodded. “No rulers. No leaders. Just free men.”

“Free men, huh? And how exactly do free men maintain their freedom when wargs come around here?” Leonard probed.

“If they come,” Figgy grinned.

Glancing around at the cabins as the two men spoke, Clay noticed boards nailed across some of the doors and bolts protruding from some of them.

“Leonard,” Clay hissed.

“Not now, boy. Can’t you see we’re speaking?”

“Leonard!”

“Need to get your little acolyte pet in order,” Figgy chuckled. “Going to be taking orders from a child soon, you are.”

“Just a moment,” Leonard flashed a smile and turned to Clay. “What is it?”

“Something’s not right here. They’ve boarded up doors, and it looks like there’s been a battle inside the traders' post,” Clay whispered.

Leonard turned to look around. “Alright, boy, good catch. Maybe you’re not so useless after all,” he whispered from the side of his mouth and stepped back toward Figgy.

“Put him in line, did ye?”

In a flash, Leonard drew his blade and pressed it against Figgy’s neck before he could react. The men around them inched forward, grabbing and raising their weapons, but Figgy raised a calming hand before anyone attacked, halting the reaction. “What’s going on here?”

“What do you mean?” Figgy hissed and took a step backward, but the sword remained pressed against him.

“The doors, why are they barred?”

“Just a little remodeling.”

Leonard pressed the sword, drawing a line of blood.

“Fine, fine, just take it easy, ye mad dog.”

“Speak, and I’ll consider it.”

“It’s just some guild members and tradesmen. They thought they would take everything back with them to the Imperium. But me and the boys weren’t so keen on going back to slavery. We also need to eat and keep us’selves warm,” Figgy shrugged. "Man's gotta eat, ye understand?"

“Sounds tough,” Leonard said. "But you, why didn't you say something sooner?"

"We just simple folk tryin' survive the winter and all that," Figgy grinned. "I'm sure a sellsword like you can understand us, huh, Leonard?"

"You know me?" Leonard's gaze thinned.

"You caused a bit of a ruckus last time you came around here. Few of me boys want ye neck if I'm being honest. I doubt you'd get out of here alive if you were to cut me down."

"And you'll be dead."

"I'll be dead either way."

"You sure you're telling the entire truth? What about the battle that went down here?"

"Just a little misunderstanding is all."

“He's a liar!” Clay said.

“Oi, who you calling liar, boy?”

“Don't worry about him,” Leonard turned to glare daggers at Clay. “Look, I get it. No way I’m going back to the Imperium, either. But it doesn’t take a genius to see things are a bit messed up around here right now, and I don't think you're telling me everything."

"What's it to ya," Figgy hissed. "You weren't 'ere, and neither was your Imperator."

"Look, I can help. But you gotta start talking."

“How about you start? How ye think ye can help?” Figgy narrowed his gaze.

“Like I said, our leader is an Imperator. The only one that hasn't led the north. He could probably help you all out here. Of course, we would need something in exchange.”

“Like what?”

“You mentioned blacksmiths and other tradesmen, right? They're the ones you have locked up in those cabins?”

“Aye,” Figgy’s eyes shifted to one of the boarded-up cabins. "Nice and tight like."

“Well, we need them, and I'm fairly certain you're going to need food soon enough. Trading with us is probably the only way your lot survive what's ahead."

“You want to trade with us?” Figgy asked with a raised brow.

“Not exactly. I don’t think that’s really fair. Your predecessors had wealth and connections and that put us on equal footing. The way I see it, this exchange isn’t exactly even. You see, without us, you’re kinda screwed. Sure, you might have your freedom for now, but what will you do when you run out of food? Not only that, but you’ve taken Imperials prisoner. When all this clears up, your lot are going to be wanted men.”

“Pfft,” Figgy hissed and spat to the side.

“Take that attitude all you like; it doesn’t change your situation. You’ll either be imprisoned or killed when the Imperials return.”

“And what about you? Are you offering us salvation or something? Don’t take me for a fool. I can recognize a cheap spiel when I see it.”

“You’re right. I’m not doing you bastards any favors for free. But if you were to work for me–”

“Trade one master for another, baha,” Figgy laughed and was soon the men around them joined in.

“Hey, look, you can go at it alone if you want. But I suggest you be smart about it. We’re not going to dictate how you run things here or tax all your crowns.”

“Hey, Figgy,” one of the armed men said, stepping forward. “Maybe we should listen to him. He’s kinda got a point. We’re going to get ourselves killed out here without help.”

“Yeah, I ain’t wanna die either,” another shouted.

“Tis all Figgy’s idea. He made us do it. Give him to the Imperators, and maybe they'll let us off.”

“Calm down,” Leonard said. “I’m not accusing anybody of anything. I’m not with the Imperium. I’m just offering you a chance at something better.”

“What do you mean we're not with the Imperium?” Clay said. “Of course we are. We serve an ordained Imperator.”

“Boy, you’re a bit slow, aren’t you? Like I said back in Winterclaw, that ship sailed a long time ago. Now, be quiet if you wouldn’t mind.”

Clay huffed and gritted his teeth. He didn’t particularly want to cause them problems, but lying about who they were seemed sacrilegious. However, a crooked look from one of the dirty men sent him flinching backward.

“Fine, take the sword away from my neck, and we can talk,” Figgy said, eyeing the blade.

“Finally, you're seeing some sense,” Leonard said, lowering the sword. “Good to see.”

“Alright, spit it out then. What are you offering?”

“Our leader is always looking for good men, and from the sounds of it, you’ve imprisoned all the remaining tradesmen, right?”

Figgy nodded slowly.

“Well, we can take them off your hands, and in return, you’ll secure our alliance.”

"And we won't have to work for you?"

"Correct. But I need those tradesmen and anyone else you have locked up if you want this deal," Leonard said.

"Not the whores," a man whined.

“You can’t make alliances without asking the Imperator!” Clay interrupted.

“I said shush it, boy,” Leonard hissed. “Don’t listen to the kid. The Imperator will listen to me.”

"Tell him, Figgy, he can't take the whores."

"You heard the boys," Figgy shrugged.

Leonard glanced around. "Do you want this deal or not? Freedom and your lives; don't get greedy now."

“And what if I don’t want you to take them tradesmen? After all, their skills might be useful to us," Figgy said.

“Then no trade and no protection,” Leonard stared the man down. "And when your men get hungry, that'll be on you."

“Just hand them over, Figgy.”

"If them whores are going with them, so am I," an armored man grunted.

“Yeah, I ain't getting myself killed over those bastards in the cabins,” another crossed his arms. "We already running low on wheat, we are."

"So?" Leonard raised a brow. "Have we got a deal?"

“Fine,” Figgy growled. “But you better make good on it," he added, extending a hand.