“Well, I just want to run this place well,” Lawrence said embarrassingly and Halafina wagged a fish stick at him.

“It is already well enough. A man with no ambition will only get swallowed and eaten by other people!” Halafina said, as if attempting to correct Lawrence’s vision. Halafina was unused to being around someone as humble as Lawrence – The merchant princes or merchant families that she used to fight for often had rumours of violent struggles for power.

Aside from the towns and villages she dropped by on her way here, Tears was probably the only place where power was concentrated in the hands of one person safely and even at that, the power was given to Lawrence willingly, both by the lord of the region as well as the more senior figures in this place.

“Sometimes, it is best to not be overly greedy and take things one step at a time, you know?” Lawrence replied and Halafina shrugged in reply.

To Lawrence who had reports of massive armies out there, chaos and instability, this place sounded like paradise. He was not wrong – Many, if not all of the townsfolks considered it as such.

“Well, taking it slow isn’t a bad thing…” Halafina said, with Lawrence in agreement.

“Have you tried the Guardian’s Bakery?” Lawrence asked and Halafina’s eyes lit up, as if remembering the taste of something.

“Yes, breakfast is served by the Guardian’s Bakery! Bread and butter! It has the most amazing bread I have ever eaten! When I was still in my fighting days, breakfast was sawdust bread. Sawdust.”

“Can you imagine my surprise when it was nothing but actual, fluffy bread?” Halafina said excitedly. Lawrence wondered for a moment if perhaps Halafina was journeying around for the best food in the realm but quickly dismissed that thought from her head.

The epithet of ‘sawdust bread’ has been applied in past times to many breads of uncertain constitution and gritty, hard texture which have been produced in times of great privation or punishment such as wars and prisons. Sometimes such bread did literally contain sawdust – or ‘tree flour’ as it is also called, as this sounds slightly less inedible.

Nineteenth century scientists were able to justify the addition of sawdust to ordinary bread by claiming not only its nutritional value but its digestibility. The subject of ‘sawdust bread’ got quite a bit of journal space at the time on account of the possibility of it assisting the feeding of the poor at little cost to the rich during times when wheat prices were high.

The reason was that bread was sold by weight back in the days, and people don't really have a good way of knowing what flour is and what sawdust is. Therefore, this was used as a business tactic to undercut honest businessmen.

“But what this town lacks… Is really… Hmmm… Everyone is just busy working or they go out and eat. There isn’t something that brings the town together! Like…” Halafina said, struggling to find the right word.

“Festivals? We have some planned…” Lawrence mumbled and Halafina shook her head.

“Right now, the people rally behind you. What happens after you are gone?” Halafina asked, prompting Lawrence to go into thought.

“Isn’t the thought of home enough?” Lawrence asked and Halafina wagged her finger.

“People can uproot and move. It is common. But what would make people stay, you know what? I’m not going to go any further than this. No matter where I go, I don’t call myself a Carminian but a man of Black Bay?”

“In the Sand Kingdoms, or even the merchant empires, they have a cause for people to rally around. The Caliphates may call for a crusade against the heathens or… The Boulesky always revolved around tradition and honour. What about your legacy for Tears and Black Bay Village?” Halafina asked, downing her ale in one go and ordering another one.

As Lawrence pondered over this question and made more idle talk through the night with Halafina, he was reminded by the awkward barmaid to pay for the tab in private.

“Milord!”

A soldier stumbles as he runs from the messenger post in Everett and without even knocking, throws open the door to the great fortress, stunning Lord Black and Kaisenberg, who were in deep discussion.

“Milord! A letter from Tir Envar! Father Karl Franz and a group of emissaries will be visiting Black Bay Village!”

Lord Black, who had taken a drink of water, spat it out as the perspiring soldier held up a letter and ran to the lord and gave it to him. Quickly opening the letter, Lord Black’s face started to pale as he read the contents of the letter.

“Kaisenberg! Pick the knights and have them receive Father Karl Franz and his entourage! They will stop by here first before moving to Black Bay!” Lord Black said loudly and Kaisenberg immediately bowed, leaving to carry out his duty.

“Johannes! Get Johannes!” Lord Black cursed as he ordered the soldier who immediately began on another leg of his run, lap two.

“Clean the place up! Servants! Servants! Guards!” Lord Black roared, throwing open the doors of the Great Hall as he summoned every living being to clean up the place. After all, a senior ranking member the clergy was coming, with paladins and crusaders following behind.

The contents of the letter was as follows:

To Lord Black,

This letter is sent by the High Clergy to inform you that Father Karl Franz and his entourage of 120 men have set out towards you. Their final destination is that of Black Bay Village. We humbly request that you play host to our elderly Father. May God’s light always shine upon you.

By God’s Authority:

High Clergy – Church of Torrens

No mention of the reason of arrival. What if they were here to extort donations to the church? Wait… What if that was it?

“Lord Black, you called for me—“

“Johannes! What is the decent amount to give to the Church if the requesting member of the church is Father Karl Franz?” Lord Edward Black asked, collapsing into his chair and rubbing his forehead.

“Ah.”

Johannes sat down, taking a book from his bag and seemed to look through a few numbers.

“Which bridge would you ideally want collapse from disrepair?” Johannes asked – This was his way of saying, tell the church to screw themselves.