“Like noble families and houses, not all guilds are the same. This is a well-known fact. What’s more, their differences are not necessarily a benefit to those with whom they conduct business.”—from the journal of Seldan Huerst, Tradesmans’ Guild

  Castle Tower, Cryptonia, Ground Plane

  The first guild representative to arrive was Master Juris Evermar from the Harvesters’ Guild. He was joined by Talas Kiban, and a few others acting as guards. They rode through the front gate on an open wagon that bore what supplies they needed for the journey. Jasper had been alerted to their approach by Sergeant Keifer, back in his place manning the gate house. Jasper, Titus, Calian, Fern, and a few of the servants met the travelers on the steps of the Keep. The young noble wore his new semi-formal grey jacket and tan trousers, saving the fancier court clothes for later. His sword was belted at his waist over the coat, and an ornamental dagger hung on his opposite side.

  The wagon ground to a halt and Talas hopped down to assist his superior, but Jasper’s people had brought a step to help his descent. Evermar was old, slightly stooped, and gripped a brass-capped cane in his right hand. He wore robes befitting his station in the khaki, tan, and yellow of his guild. There was a glint of mischief in Evermar’s eye that belied his long years. He smiled and thanked the servants as they took away his stool. Jasper took a step forward and bowed as Calian had taught him. It was not as stiff as it used to be, and he felt more comfortable with the motion.

  “Master Evermar, I am Jasper McKenna. Welcome to the Tower.”

  “Ah, Lord Jasper,” the merchant returned his bow, surprisingly graceful for his age. “I am welcome indeed. It is good to lay eyes on the place again.”

  “You have visited before?”

  “Yes, my Lord. Many years ago—before you were a twinkle in your sire’s eye, I dare say.” The old man chuckled, and Jasper could not help but laugh along with him. He ushered the group inside while Calian oversaw the unloading of the merchant’s baggage. Evermar was escorted into the Main Hall where a small table sat to the side, the same one Jasper had used to meet with the messengers. Jasper waited for the old man to make himself comfortable before sitting as well. Talas stood over Evermar’s left shoulder, mirroring Titus, taking his place behind Jasper.

  “I am very glad to have you here, ser,” said Jasper, reclining a bit in his chair. “In my brief time here, I have come to fully grasp just how sorely the region lacks good trade.”

  “A thing we in the Harvesters’ Guild know all too well,” Evermar nodded. He rested both wrists on the ball of his cane, the tip planted evenly between his feet. “As I am sure my man Talas has told you, Lord, your land is a fertile one. I, and many of my fellow guild members, believe the land is meant to be tilled, planted, and reaped. It is good for the soil to be turned, good for the people to have grains to eat, and good for the body to work under the sun as the gods intended.”

  “I could not agree more, Master Evermar.” Jasper smiled. “I think you and I will build a strong partnership.” The old man’s gapped teeth showed in a broad grin.

  “Let us have something to drink then and toast our good fortune.”

  “Of course.” Jasper turned to the nearest dwarven servant. “Telli, please bring us some cups and a bottle.”

  “Yes, Lord.” She bobbed a quick curtsy and was gone. In less than a minute, she had returned with a tray bearing enough glasses for them all, along with a brown carafe of light, fruit alcohol for which Jasper had developed a fondness. Telli deposited the tray and placed the cups before pouring a measure into each. Jasper lifted his.

  “To new friends and fruitful journeys.”

  “And long summers, that the harvest may be bountiful,” Evermar added before taking a drink. His eyes widened and he studied the cup in his hand intently. “Oh, that is very nice. Is that strawberries?”

  “It is. One of the brewers in town brought a cask as a gift for the celebration, and I admit I’ve fallen in love with the stuff,” Jasper chuckled. “Not too strong and just enough flavor to be pleasant.”

  “It certainly is. I may have to purchase some for myself.”

  “I’ll have Calian give your man his name and directions to the brewery.” Jasper smiled.

  “Wonderful.” Evermar drained the rest of his drink before setting it down on the table. “But now, a little business. Let us discuss your situation, what you would offer the Guild, and what you would have in return.”

  “Of course.” Jasper held out his hand to Titus, and the knight produced a small map of the region. Jasper leaned forward onto the table and outlined for the merchant his desire to plant more farms and grain mills over the green fields around The Vill and the Tower itself. He, Calian, and a few of the local farmers had spent much time over the last couple weeks discussing which land would be best suited to grow certain crops. Evermar posed questions every so often but largely let the younger man speak unhindered. Coming near the end of his spiel, Jasper addressed one of the primary concerns of the farming problem.

  “I spoke to Talas of this to some extent, and he reminded me that one of our most important issues would be to convince farmers to uproot themselves and travel all the way to a foreign land with little idea what it might be like to live here.” Jasper sighed, sitting back once more. “I hoped you would have a possible solution, ser.”

  “Hmm, it is quite a problem before us. You are correct regarding the difficulty of urging folk to come around the mountains. I may be able to influence a number of people to make the trip. What I believe the best course of action would be is to start with a handful of transplanted families, or those starting from scratch, then use their success to draw in more.”

  “That sounds like an awfully big assumption that there will be success,” said Jasper, dubiously scratching his chin. “I only know a little about farming, but I do know how reliant the workers are upon the weather.”

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  “There is a saying in my family,” said the old man. “‘If you plant no seed, expect not to grow a field of wheat.’”

  “Ah. Yes, there is a similar saying where I am from,” said Jasper, smiling to himself. “Very well. Encourage your farmers to make the attempt, and we will do everything within reason to assist them. After all, with no crops, the people starve—us in the tower included.”

  “Right you are, Lord.” Evermar fidgeted with his glass. “I don’t suppose you could spare a bit more of that, eh?” He nodded at the bottle and Jasper poured him another, grinning.

  “As long as we don’t have too much. Cook Harla might skin me and put me in the pot!” They laughed and continued to converse over details about the Land and how different it was in the south. Jasper’s insatiable need for information and curiosity burned like forge fire, but the elderly merchant also had questions for him about his birthplace.

  “Like many, I suppose, I have never met someone from beyond this Plane,” said Evermar. “What is your home like?”

  “Very different,” Jasper said. “I suppose the biggest differences would be the lack of magic and the technological advances in my world. We have a kind of self-drawn carriage, a vehicle to transport oneself or others across great distances without the need for a horse.” Evermar’s white brows went up in amazement.

  “Really? And you say this is not magic?!”

  “No ser, merely very advanced science and engineering. There are a great many non-magical wise men and alchemists in my world who invent wonderful machines that have taken over much of the manual labor we do by hand here. The washing of clothes and dishes, for one, can all be done with very little effort.”

  “Bless my soul.” Evermar shook his head. “I should like to visit such a place one day. What wonders you must have seen. I imagine our world is frightfully dull by comparison.”

  “Not at all, ser. The fresh air and the natural beauty here is unlike any I have ever seen. I hope to see more of it.”

  “Well, should you ever come south, you must make a trip to my steading outside H?llthar.”

  “It would be my honor, Master Evermar.” Jasper bowed in his seat. Calian appeared beside him.

  “My Lords, the Guild Master’s luggage has been safely put away in the assigned rooms.”

  “Ah, good.” Evermar stood with only a little difficulty, Jasper joining him. “By your leave, Lord Jasper, such a long trip has tired my old bones, and I would take some rest.”

  “Of course. Though I would not miss dinner. Cook Harla will be hard at work already preparing a fine meal for us. We typically dine at the sixth bell.”

  “I shall not be late, ser.” Evermar bowed again and Calian led the way to his room. Talas smiled and gave a respectful nod as he departed.

  “That went very well,” said Titus, finally breaking his silence.

  “I agree. He seems to be a reflection of his messenger, which is good.”

  “I worry that may be the case for all of them, ser.” Titus crossed his arms. Jasper shrugged with a sigh.

  “We’ll have to cross that bridge when we come to it. Drill continuing as planned?”

  “Yes, Lord. Delgan and Benn are marching the cohort in files down the riverbank.” Jasper’s brow furrowed in confusion.

  “What for?”

  “The soggy and uneven ground will build up leg strength and improve balance. An old trick, but an effective one to train for long marches and prolonged battle.”

  “That’s a great idea,” said Jasper, nodding. “Was there anything else we needed to do before—?”

  “My Lord!” One of the gate sentries interrupted, jogging down the center of the Main Hall. It was one of the more promising militia that had been granted a post. He was younger than Jasper by about seven or eight years, but had shown promise, loyalty and an eagerness to prove himself that his superiors all admired. Jasper fumbled for his name as the man came to a panting halt.

  “It’s Maban, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, Lord.” Maban bent double, bracing his hands on his knees.

  “What is it, private?” Titus said a bit sharply, reminding the young man of his station. Maban straightened to attention and gave his report.

  “More arrivals at the front gate, Lord. By their colors and banner, ‘tis the Banking Guild.”

  “I believe this is going to turn into an interesting evening,” Jasper said, his voice lacking excitement but still managing to hide the apprehension he felt. “Thank you Maban. Return to your post and alert us when the others arrive.” Maban saluted smartly.

  “Yes, Lord!” He returned the way he had come, double time.

  “Do you think your friend Loric’s master will be anything like him?” Titus wondered aloud. Jasper shrugged.

  “No idea. Hopefully not. Has there been no word from the Emperor? Or the Stone Elves?” Titus made a face and shrugged.

  “None yet, Lord.”

  “One would think that a prominent new noble appearing in a neighboring country would warrant at least a courier.” At Titus’ chuckle, Jasper shot him a look. “I’m not being prideful, Titus, just pointing it out. It’s kind of rude.”

  “I’m sure we will hear something eventually, Lord. Word does take some time to travel around the mountains, unless it’s a bird. And the elves do not always perceive time as we do.”

  “I’m sure you’re right. Well, let’s go see what we’ve got.” Jasper returned to the Keep steps and awaited the new arrivals. Titus remained by his side, and Calian reappeared just as the finely dressed travelers came through the inner gates. Their wagons were more decorative in construction, though they were quite functional. A half dozen guards with swords and crossbows rode horses with the cart bearing the messenger, Loric, and another man.

  He was older, but not as far along in years as Master Evermar. Shoulder-length white hair was combed back over his head. He wore a black tunic over a white shirt with frilled lace at his throat and a dark emerald outer robe that hung on him in such a way it was clearly well-tailored. The hems, cuffs, and lapels of his robe had swirling golden cord designs stitched into them, further revealing his wealth. Despite the expensive clothing, he looked uncomfortable and slightly green. Loric dismounted and gave commands to the men with them, and an ornate stepping stool was placed for the representative to disembark. The man did not deign to look at his entourage but kept his chin high as he descended to the cobblestones. Jasper groaned inwardly. When the man approached the steps of the Keep a bit unsteadily, Loric spoke up.

  “Lord Jasper, I present to you Master Rubeus Torald, sitting member of the High Council of Currency and the Banking Guild.” Jasper bowed.

  “You are most welcome, Master Rubeus. We are glad to house such a ranking member of the Guild as a guest.” His guest returned Jasper’s gesture, though he was clearly unimpressed with the young man’s appearance or display—Jasper could not tell which. He reasoned that Rubeus’ obvious discomfort likely had a hand in his brusque attitude.

  “Your welcome is appreciated, Lord Jasper. I am most interested to discuss your intentions with the Guild, but I must beg your pardon. The journey has been long, and I have felt unwell since our departure from Southton. The northern roads were murderous.”

  “Of course. Calian will show you to your rooms, and if you require a physician, please do not hesitate to ask. Our elven healer is most qualified.”

  “I will, if necessary,” the Guild Master huffed tiredly and ran a hand through his hair. The steward moved forward and gave a slight bow, gesturing through the doors behind them.

  “This way, Master Rubeus.” Jasper nodded politely to Loric as he swept past with his superior, and the messenger gave a tight smile. Across from him, Titus raised his eyebrows in amusement after they disappeared inside.

  “I guess I’ll be in charge of this lot.” He jerked his chin at the wagon and handful of guards standing around looking a bit unsure what to do. “The barracks should have plenty of room while we have half the recruits out on maneuvers.”

  “That sounds good.” Jasper looked through the Keep doors and shook his head. “I was expecting a bit more pomp and ceremony.”

  “Travel sickness, I’d guess, Lord,” Titus shrugged. “Or maybe a bad bit of meat. It can fell even the stoutest of us.”

  “Mm. Well, let’s get to it.”

  “Aye, Lord.”