"Keep your hands where I can see them, scout," Marcus growled, his knuckles white as he shoved the prisoner hard against the rough-hewn timbers of the gatehouse. "One twitch toward that belt knife and I won't bother with a warning."Kael didn’t flinch. The Westminster scout simply spat a glob of grey-brown phlegm onto the freshly swept dust of the threshold, his bruised jaw tightening into a crooked, humorless grin. The long, jagged scar slicing from the corner of his left eye down to his stubbled jawline twitched with the movement."You’ve got a real charming welcome committee here, captain," Kael rasped, his voice sounding like dry gravel sliding down a tin chute. "Is this how you treat visitors who bring you free intelligence, or am I just special?""You're a scout for a regional militia that burned three supply depots within twenty miles of this ridge last month," Marcus snapped, pressing the iron head of his pike an inch closer to the man’s throat. "Call it an abundance of cautio

"I told you to lay the wet mix diagonal to the drainage slope, not straight across like a damn sheep-pen!" Miller roared, his face flushed the color of a bruised beet as he slammed his heavy wooden trowel down onto the freshly laid stone pavers with enough force to send a shower of gray grit flying across the square.A lean, frantic-looking refugee named Jory dropped his bucket, splashing a thick slurry of lime and sand directly onto the hem of Miller’s canvas trousers. "The cart axle snapped, master carpenter! What was I supposed to do, let forty pounds of salvaged slate tumble into the mud?""You were supposed to look where you were dragging your rickety junk before you plowed straight through three days of hard labor!" Miller grabbed a fistful of Jory’s wool tunic, hoisting the smaller man onto his toes with terrifying ease. "This square is the only thing keeping this settlement from turning back into a mud pit when the autumn rains hit, and your rolling pile of trash just turned t

The harsh morning light cut through the mist clinging to the timber palisade, illuminating the dense white plume rising into the grey sky far beyond the northern ridge.Marcus dropped his heavy hammer, the iron tool sinking deep into the mud of the nascent square, and pointed a calloused finger toward the horizon. "Kael said they patrol every three days at dawn. He wasn't wrong. Look at that."Evelyn hurried over from the quartermaster’s tent, her coat flying behind her in the crisp morning wind as she squinted up at the distant pillar of dark grey smoke curling against the pale clouds. "That’s less than three miles out. Is it a scouting party or a full advance?""Small troop. Ten, maybe twelve riders max, moving slow and burning brush as they go," Marcus said, his jaw tightening as he unholstered his service revolver and checked the cylinder with a sharp click. "They’re sweeping the valley, mapping every new chimney and fence line we’ve built this week."Kael stepped out from the sha

"Get your hands off me unless you want to spend the next week pulling barbed wire out of your chest," Kael rasped, his voice cutting through the rising morning wind without a trace of fear. "You want to choke out Westminster’s vanguard? Choking them out starts with what you do right now, not who you throw against a log wall."Marcus kept his knuckles locked in the scout's jerkin for a tense second longer, his breathing heavy and measured, before shoving Kael away with a sharp twist of his wrist. "Talk. Fast. Before I decide you're more trouble than the patrol three miles out.""They're coming up the old logging trail because the lower creek bed is choked with silt from the spring thaw," Kael said, straightening his leather vest and brushing a stray splinter from his sleeve. "It forces them into a single-file bottleneck right where the north ridge narrows into the gorge. If you stack heavy timber across that track and lace it with rusted wire, you'll turn twelve mounted enforcers into

"They aren't just running, Evelyn, they're spreading a panic that'll empty this entire square before sunset," Marcus warned, his boots hammering hard against the packed earth as they rounded the corner of the communal kitchen.Evelyn didn't slow her pace, her eyes locked on the chaotic knot of wagons and shouting refugees gathered near the west gate. "We stop them right now, or we won't have a settlement left to defend when Vance’s patrol clears the ridge.""Let the cowards go," Kael drawled, stepping out from the shadows of an overhang with a toothpick wedged between his teeth. "You spend your energy chasing ghosts with carts, you won't have any left for the real wolves coming down the trail.""If they bolt into the valley, Westminster scouts pick them up, interrogate them, and find out exactly how many guns we've got and where our water supply is buried," Marcus snarled, spinning on his heel to face the scout. "They aren't just cowards; they're walking intelligence reports.""Then s