Necromancer: Kingdom Building with My Legion of Undead Knights

The injured knights were helped out of the great hall by two others who had been called in, taken to get cleaned up and looked at properly.

The one holding his ribs was going to need a few days before he was useful for anything physical. The one with the cut above his eye had stopped bleeding but the swelling around it was going to make the next morning uncomfortable.

The knights that had been called to take them out looked at them, squeezing their faces in one that said: ’Sheesh’.

They couldn’t imagine the pain the beaten knights barely sitting on the floor would be going through.

All three of them were walking though, which was the main thing, but they were barely doing so, needing a lot of support.

When they were gone, the hall was quiet again except for the two halves of the broken table on the floor, which nobody had moved yet.

Garren looked at the table, then at Darion.

”I didn’t anticipate this,” he said. ”I genuinely didn’t. That road has been used for trade for years without incident.” He paused. ”I should have sent more knights.”

”More knights wouldn’t have changed what they thought of Percvale,” Darion said. ”That’s not a numbers problem.”

Garren accepted that with a slight nod. He was quiet for a moment, thinking in the careful way he thought when he was working toward a suggestion rather than just an observation.

”The village leader,” he said eventually. ”I’d be surprised if he ordered this.”

Darion looked at him. ”Why?”

”Because village leaders, as a general rule, don’t start fights with baronies. Even weak ones. Even ones with reputations like ours.” He folded his arms.

”The cost-benefit doesn’t work in their favor. A barony, even a struggling one, has more organized force than a village can put together, and village leaders know that. What’s more likely is that some of their warriors saw an opportunity and took it without anyone above them knowing it was happening.”

Darion thought about that. It was a reasonable read of the situation. Warriors on a road, men from Percvale, meat and horses and armor sitting right there, the decision to take it had probably been made in about ten seconds by people who weren’t thinking past the immediate opportunity.

”Which means,” Garren continued, ”That writing to the village leader directly is the correct first step. Not as a threat, but as an inquiry. Formally and calmly, explaining what happened, asking for an account of it, and leaving the door open for the village to make it right before it becomes something larger.”

Darion scratched his chin. ”That’s not a bad idea.”

Who knows, perhaps the village leader would apologize for what his men did and make amendments.

”It establishes that Percvale responds to things through proper channels. It gives the village leader a chance to deal with his own people rather than forcing a confrontation. And it tells us whether we’re dealing with someone who can be reasoned with or someone who already knows what happened and is comfortable with it,” Garren explained.

”And the messenger we send with it?”

Garren’s expression was honest about this.

”At some risk, yes. But a letter requires a messenger and there’s no way around that.” He paused. ”We send someone capable. Someone who can read a situation and leave quickly if it goes the wrong direction.”

Darion nodded slowly. He didn’t love putting another knight on that road after what had just come back from it, but Garren’s logic was sound. You couldn’t respond to everything with force, especially not at Percvale’s current capacity, and a formal letter gave them information and options that going in with weapons didn’t.

”Fine,” he said. ”Write it.” He honestly did not know how he would lead the Barony without Garren, the man played a huge part in a life at this point.

Garren went upstairs without further discussion. Darion heard him moving through the corridor above, the particular sound of someone going through a chest or a shelf, then footsteps returning, and Garren came back down carrying a rolled scroll, a small bottle of ink, and a pen, which he set on the undamaged end of the room away from the broken table.

He uncapped the ink, smoothed the scroll flat, and looked at Darion.

”Tell me what you want to say.”

Darion thought for a moment, organizing it.

”Start with the formal address. Baron Darion of Percvale, to the leader of Gonnb village.” He paused. ”Actually, do we know the leader’s name?”

Garren considered. ”I believe it’s a man named..

uh..Aldous. I’ve not dealt with him directly but the name comes up, I remember it.”

”To Aldous of Gonnb, then.” Darion began moving slowly around the room, thinking aloud while Garren wrote. ”It has come to my attention that on the road passing your village, three knights of Percvale were attacked, relieved of their horses, armor, weapons, and goods, and beaten severely before being told to flee. I write not in accusation but in inquiry, to understand whether this was carried out with your knowledge and authorization, or whether it was the independent action of individuals within your village acting without your sanction.”

Garren’s pen moved steadily across the scroll.

”Continue with, Percvale extends the courtesy of this correspondence before drawing any conclusions, and requests a response within a reasonable period. The goods taken represent a meaningful loss to this barony, and I would ask that you consider what restitution, if any, your village is prepared to offer.”

Darion paused, thinking about the tone. ”Close it formally. Baron Darion of Percvale. Keep the whole thing even, no threats and no anger in the language.”

Garren finished writing, let the ink settle for a moment, then lifted the scroll and read it back. The formal language sat well, it was lukewarm, specific and leaving nothing ambiguous but nothing aggressive either. The kind of letter that put the recipient in the position of having to respond seriously rather than dismiss it.

When Garren finished reading, he looked at Darion.

Darion looked at the scroll.

”That’ll do.”