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Chapter 116: The Iron Hook
"If you drop that crossbar one more inch, Miller, I'm going to start charging you rent for the floor space," Marcus growled, his breathing coming in sharp, shallow pants as his fingers slipped against the slick, oiled iron of the newly forged brace.Miller didn't slacken his grip on the heavy timber, his broad back bowed under the dead weight of the oak-and-steel assembly. "Hold your tongue and lift your side, commander, unless you want the eastern gate to swing open like a barn door the next time a Westminster patrol leans against it."Marcus gritted his teeth, his injured shoulder screaming in protest as he forced his muscles to contract. He heaved upward, the metal brackets clinking loudly against the mounting plates. "It’s bolted. Secure it."Miller slammed the final locking pin home with a heavy, satisfying clack, then straightened up slowly, wiping a smear of soot and sweat across his forehead with his forearm. He squinted sideways at the commander, his gaze dropping instantly t
Chapter 115: The Ledger’s Weight
"If you bring me another casualty report with ink this faded, Fabian, I'm going to assume you're writing with ditch water and charge you for the parchment," Evelyn said, sliding the consolidated loss report across the scarred pine table of the command hall with a sharp rap of her fingernails.Fabian didn't look up from his desk, his quill scratching furiously against a fresh sheet of rag paper. "The ink supply is finite, Evelyn, unlike your capacity for administrative harassment. That report accounts for every single lost pound of salt pork, every splintered fence rail, and every drop of spilled blood from the Westminster raid.""And it also proves we have exactly twelve days of grain left before we're chewing on our own boot leather," Evelyn replied, planting both hands flat on the edge of the desk and leaning forward until her eyes locked with his. "We cannot survive a second coordinated assault without outside trade, Fabian. Our stores are hollow.""Trade requires a functioning cur
Chapter 114: Shadows on the Ridge
"A signal fire?" Marcus demanded, his hand locking tighter around the pommel of his short sword as he crossed the distance between the planting beds and the guard post in three long strides. "Are you certain it isn't brush clearing? A controlled burn?""At dawn? On the highest ridge overlooking our supply lines?" Kael didn't lower his crossbow, his dark eyes fixed entirely on the treeline beyond the palisade. "It’s burning in a triple-stack configuration. That’s Westminster military code for a localized holding pattern. Vance isn't packing up his camp. He's cementing it.""Damn it," Marcus muttered, his jaw tightening so hard a muscle feathered in his cheek. "We cleared the eastern siding yesterday. We thought we had bought ourselves a week to breathe.""Vance doesn't care about your construction schedule," Kael retorted, his voice entirely flat, stripped of any warmth. He lowered the heavy wooden bow just enough to glance sidelong at the commander. "I've seen this exact maneuver thre
Chapter 113: Roots and Regrets
"If you throw another jagged chunk of granite into my planting beds, Marcus, I'm going to start charging you rent for the privilege of destroying my soil," Lily snapped, not even looking up from her kneeling position in the damp, churned earth.Marcus dropped a massive grey rock with a heavy, hollow thud that sent a small spray of dark loam over the edge of the wooden planter box. He rested his hands on his hips, his breathing slightly elevated from the physical strain. "You're welcome to trade places with me, Lily, if you think hauling foundation stones is easier than untangling three weeks of frost-killed roots and Westminster boot prints.""At least my rocks don't crush my winter greens," Lily retorted, her fingers caked with rich earth as she gently brushed aside a tangled mass of shattered glass and crushed stems. "Look at this. Half a row of my prized winter-hardy turnip starts, flattened into paste by your lovely defensive maneuvers.""The alternative was letting Vance's patrol
Chapter 112: Splinters and Scraps
"Eighty-four nails don't just walk out of a locked chest, Miller, unless your apprentices are moonlighting as blacksmiths," Fabian snapped, his quill hovering threateningly over a fresh column of figures. "And I certainly didn't authorize a requisition for replacement hardware.""They didn't walk, clerk, they bent in half when your precious northern barricade took a battering ram," Miller snarled, leaning his broad palms flat on the crate and glaring down at the administrator. "Now hand over the key to the iron locker, or I take a crowbar to the latch myself.""Break that lock and I will personally deduct the cost from your weekly timber stipend," Fabian retorted, his eyes narrowing behind round spectacles."Do it, and I'll drop every unfinished roof beam right in the middle of your square," Miller shot back, turning sharply on his heel before Fabian could fire another complaint.The burly carpenter stomped away from the administrative desk, his heavy boots crunching hard over the fro
Chapter 111: The Bitter Audit
The morning sun broke over the square with a cold, unyielding glare, casting long, sharp shadows across the hastily patched timber buildings. Fabian was already at his makeshift desk—an overturned ammunition crate covered in ink-stained ledger sheets—slamming a heavy brass weight down onto a stack of requisition forms to keep them from blowing away in the crisp autumn wind."If another person brings me a damaged inventory count before I've had my morning salt-pork, I am locking the warehouse doors and throwing the key down the communal well," Fabian snapped, not even bothering to look up as heavy boots crunched across the frozen mud toward his station."You can lock the warehouse doors all you like, clerk, but that isn't going to fix the eighty-four iron nails missing from my primary tool chest," Miller growled, his massive frame looming over the crate. The carpenter dropped a handful of bent, blood-spotted hardware onto the ledger with a hollow, metallic clatter that made the adminis
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