One full month of tireless effort passed.

Already, the surrounding world had taken note of the exciting, energetic change that had come to the sleepy, remote village of Canthari. Caravans made their way to partake of cheaper agricultural produce and the new, “mill-shaped” ironworks.

Prospero, Olin, Izra, and Olin’s daughter Sadia, stood around the new gatehouse in the late afternoon one day. Prospero and Olin instructed the young guardsmen on the operation of the gate and the collection of tariffs, and Sadia helped the gleeful Izra to count out the mountain of coin that had already been collected this month.

“Heh heh heh, Prospero. Look at this thing you have done! It has only been two weeks since construction of the palisade was completed, and now we have recouped nearly a fifth of the cost of all our construction projects! To think it would be so easy.”

“Really? How much have you got over there?” Prospero asked.

“Twelve hundred!” shouted Sadia. “Master Izra taught me to multiply!”

Prospero chuckled and nodded his approval. “Excellent! Just remember now, the effects of project-based economic stimulus is temporary unless you can sustain the growth. We should not only make plans to grow at a responsible rate, and we must also devise strategies to protect the welfare of Canthari’s people in poorer times.”

“I am lucky for your wisdom, Prospero,” Izra said gleefully as he slid coins around on the table.

“And I am lucky of your edification. You make quite the skilled tutor, Master Eurytus. I think Sadia has also benefited greatly from your instruction.”

“To think a common girl would be so quick on the uptake of something as arcane as mathematics,” Izra remarked, delighted and impressed.

“It’s not as remarkable as you’d think,” Prospero said fondly, with a smile on his face. “We are all equal insofar as our potentials. Only our individual circumstances and the systems we fashion for our societies stand to propel some forward, or hold others back. If Sadia’s soul had been born into your body, and yours into hers, she would be better educated than you, Master Eurytus. This is the truth of humanity.”

Once, even only a month ago, these brazen words might have inflamed passionate outrage and fury in Izra. But having come to know Prospero, mentoring him and welcoming him in discourse in politics, and learning of Prospero’s strange, all-enlightened nature, Izra had been reborn. Where once Olin considered him to be the most insufferable man in the world, now they were like brothers.

“Report!” one of the guardsmen announced as he ran to the door of the gatehouse and knelt, head bowed.

“Go ahead,” Izra said, putting on his airs again.

“A rider waits at the gate, and refuses to pay our tariff. He says he is a messenger sent by Count Amadi Gaynes.”

Izra rushed out of the gatehouse without saying a word to the guard, and Prospero and Olin followed after him in a hurry. The rider waited just before the gate, which was slow to open. The three men positioned themselves in the center of the roadway, and were revealed to the messenger as the gate swung open for him.

“Izra Eurytus of Canthari village greets you, honorable messenger. May we welcome you to join us on a tour of our fair village, before we receive you formally as our guest of honor at my estate?”

The messenger, whose hot-headed impatience about being stopped at a lowly village’s gate, began to cool as he heard the respectful words. “I bear news from your liege lord, Master Eurytus. It was thanks to Lord Gaynes that the Court agreed to instate you to your post here. Would you delay receiving his messenger?”

Izra bowed low again. “In truth, I am wholly eager to hear your message as soon as possible. But the road between this place and Lord Gaynes’ seat in Southaster is a long one, and I judged that you yourself must be weary. If you prefer to deliver your message quickly, we shall oblige you, but I must insist that you stay the night and rest. Come, we shall treat you to a feast and speak with you in our audience chamber.”

And so, the three men of Canthari led the messenger back to the Eurytus estate. There, the messenger was ushered into the seat of the guest of honor, while Izra took his seat as host, and Olin and Prospero sat opposite their guest.

“Good!” Izra declared happily. “Now, honorable messenger, we shall hear our liege lord’s command.”

“Right.” The messenger took a scroll from his satchel and got up to set it on Izra’s table before returning to his seat and helping himself to bread, cheese, olives, and wine.

Izra cleared his throat and unrolled the scroll, looking over it. Prospero watched as his languid eyes opened wider and wider, and he began to read more hastily. As Izra reread the scroll, Prospero noticed the trembling of his hands. Still, Izra collected himself enough to roll the message up and set it down on his desk as if it were just another item of business.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

“Master Eurytus?” Prospero prompted, his tone cautious.

“All across the kingdom, banners are being called,” Izra said, his voice hollow of any tone. Though Prospero now knew the man well enough to sense his despair, there was the matter of Amadi Gaynes’ messenger in the room. They had to seem loyal and eager, at least until the messenger was gone. “A military official, someone from some far flung frontier post named General Mikello Alaric, has seized the Capital, and the boy King along with it. A coalition of the great nobles and military officers is gathering their strength to march on the capital and liberate the king. Every settlement of Lord Gaynes’ fief must contribute one able-bodied person per household as a conscript, and five bushels of grain, and whatever horses and carts necessary to bear them to Southaster, where he is raising his army. I am to lead our force to him, and serve as an administrator in his camp.”

Prospero blinked at the report, and quickly turned to see Olin’s reaction. Olin’s face was drawn and stiff. He showed no emotion, not even enough for Prospero to read. Prospero turned and looked back to him. “You, Master Izra? Then who will govern Canthari in your absence?”

“The people will have to make due in my absence. Just as they will have to make due without you, Olin.”

Prospero turned to see Olin’s stony face again. “I am an old man, Master Eurytus. I have fought enough wars for one lifetime. My wife and daughter need me here, working the fields, if they are to survive winter. The same is true for many families.”

“You will not speak defiance in my home,” Izra said venomously. “Our duty and loyalty is owed to Count Gaynes. We shall all make sacrifices to honor it. You may tell him so, Honorable Messenger.”

To which the smugly satisfied messenger merely bowed his head and said. “I shall.”

Prospero’s eyes widened in surprise as his two friends stared angrily at one another. As Prospero judged it, Olin must be tired of playing these games with the upper class and fearful of the toll they might take on his loved ones, but Izra’s loyalty would be threatened if he did not go along with Gaynes’ orders, nor rebuke any dissenters. Particularly not while his messenger was in the room. He and Olin should have played along and waited until they were in private to discuss this.

“Master Eurytus,” Prospero interjected. “As you know, I was but a homeless, itinerant mage before I found my way to Master Olin’s doorstep,” he said, putting an emphasis on the word ‘mage’. He peeked from the corner of his eye to observe the reaction of the messenger, who—yes!—did indeed react with surprise to that information.

“Since then, he has honored me by adopting me into his household,” Prospero continued. This was nearer to a lie, as Prospero had only spent one night under Olin’s roof. But Izra understood the intentions of his words, and slowly began to nod to signal Prospero to continue.

“The order you have received is to send one able-bodied person from each household. I believe Count Gaynes’ war effort, and your own duties as a military administrator, will be best served not by Olin’s presence, but mine. Olin has proven himself to be a good leader with the talent to unite the people in great undertakings. I propose that we leave the administration of Canthari in his care as you and I attend upon our liege. Do you agree?”

“Hahhh,” Izra breathed, and the theatrical vocalization came along with a very real sigh of relief. “Once again, my young protege, your wit is a boon to us all. But, I worry such a thing would be viewed as dishonest.” Prospero could hear the political theater in Izra’s words. Judging by Olin’s hastily reined-in temper, Olin could as well.

“My lord,” the messenger said quickly. “If it is indeed true that this honorable young man here is a mage, having him would be the equivalent of having a hundred soldiers. Worry not, it will not be marked as a dishonest gesture. Rather, it will be a first act of merit to your name, Lord Eurytus, even before the army has marched, if you bring a mage to assist us.”

“Then it is settled,” Izra said, slapping his desk and laughing. “Olin shall remain in Canthari, and take charge of its administration in my absence. Prospero shall attend Count Gaynes’ camp in his stead, and all shall be better for it. Good, good… Now, let us finish our feast, while you tell us what news you have of this insurrection at the Capital, Honorable Messenger.”

Later that night, as the messenger was shown to guest quarters in the main house, Izra, Olin, and Prospero remained in the audience chamber to confer with each other in private.

First, Olin bowed low. “Forgive me, Master Eurytus, for jeopardizing everything. My fury boiled over. Canthari’s people might have been labeled as rebel sympathizers if you had not rebuked me. I understand my folly now, and I am deeply sorry.”

Izra chuckled and patted Olin on the shoulder. “Fear not, Olin. Once again, our new friend found a clever way to deliver us from that peril. Thanks to him, there is nothing to forgive. But if you are to govern in my place, you must learn to think more theatrically. Such performances are necessary to survive in the world of court and state politics.”

“You are most gracious, Master Eurytus. I thank you.” Olin turned and bowed to Prospero. Now, there were tears in his eyes. “And there are not words strong enough to thank you, Prospero. In taking my place, you have spared my life and the lives of my family. I only dread that I am a dishonorable man. I have shown you only a little hospitality, and you have repaid it not only with the incredible wealth and joy and energy you have breathed into our village, but now—“ he choked back a sob. “—Now you even offer up your life, or to put blood on your hands, for my sake.”

Prospero was moved by the man’s earnest expression of gratitude and lament. He set a hand on his back and nodded. “Olin, as I said on the night we met, this world is far crueler and more dangerous than you know. To risk my life is but to make a gambit. To risk yours and that of your family’s would be unconscionable. This is the only proper way for us to handle the situation. Besides, you’ve seen how back-breaking the work of administering this village is. You will be doing that on your own, while Izra and I travel to join an enormous army sent to take out just a single warlord and his retinue. I daresay you’ll be working the hardest of the three of us. Don’t pity us too much.”

Olin laughed and wiped his eyes with his sleeves. “You really are something, Prospero. It was the great fortune of our time to encounter you.”