>>5207366>>5207486>>5207507>>5209808You consider just taking the opportunity to drown your newfound sorrows in relative solitude, but one thing Alys said sticks with you as much as the sharp sting on your bearded cheek. You were not raised to neglect your duty, and what kind of man would you be if you fell short at the first mere setback? Are you some child to need some paternal figure to descend from the heavens and give you a personal endorsement? Of course not. Your mental imagery is filled by the disappointed face of your father, the details indistinct as the passage of years since the man's untimely death wears away his features like the surf does the shore. She's right of course. You cannot just let the men hear of this failure and wonder what in the Depths' you are going to do about it. If these men and women are to pledge themselves to you, you must earn their respect even if you cannot get it delivered to you by the Divine.
On the way out, you have a second thought. You haven't eaten for a day, so you take a swig of ale accompanied by a few hearty bites of the roast to chicken to keep you going before leaving to find where the men are billeted.
Asking around the various stables you think the horses likely to be housed, you soon find that while Friedrich and some of his closest companions have taken billet at a nearby inn, the body of the functionaries and a majority of the household knights have surprised you by expressing welcome frugality outside of the city limits themselves. It it a green, pleasant clearing, easy enough to find. The stable hand who told you of it mentioned that it is maintained by the Clergy for the sake of the many pilgrims who come through Avighon seeking blessing, favor, or to enter Holy Service.
The wagons are gathered together and made into a pleasant makeshift camp. You see your new subordinates milling about, many cooking an early dinner on spits over a number of fires. You see the same nursemaid from before looking after the infant, rocking him softly while using one of the covered carts to stay out of the afternoon sun. Alys is nowhere to be seen. This is unsurprising to you, but you suppose she could have simply booked a room instead. You doubt it though.
It's not long before the man from before in the robe of the Revenue Service approaches you. “My Lord Captain-General, excuse my lack of introduction. I am Arvent Bardus, late of the Imperial Revenue Service and by will of our beloved Emperor sworn to the Order as treasurer, as it pleases you.” You nod in acknowledgment.
“Honored to meet you, Brother Bardus. Is there a financial matter I should see to for the caravan?”
He looks confused for a moment before catching himself. “Ah, no Captain-General, we have plenty to go around. I have been named by the others as the head of our little caravan when yourself or Sir Friedrich are indisposed. The initiates are wondering how your time at the Bastion went?”
