On the face of it, what Carwyn needed to do was simple. There were three large mills on the far side of the River Belvin, along with half a dozen storehouses and just as many granaries, plus twenty or so shops and homes that had been built in the past few years.
Most of those homes belonged to the newcomers who had come to Raek Village because of the land that Carwyn promised them, and a few of those newcomers were reluctant to cede the far side of the river to an occupying demon army.
"I understand, yer lordship," Kraki, the Master Brewer, said as he stubbornly folded his arms across his considerable bulk. "Ye want taā clear us out taā make space fer tha demons taā camp. But yer lordship, a man still has a right taā defend āis home. How can I jusā roll over anā let demons go rummaging in my cellars or drinkinā up my best brews?"
"Master Kraki," Carwyn said, barely able to keep from pulling his hair out in frustration. "The Eldritch wonāt touch your home, or your shop, or drink your ale. They just need to camp in the fields near the wall where the sheep and cattle graze. They wonāt come within a hundred paces of your home!"
"Ye say that, yer lordship," the stubborn brewer argued. "But soldiers is soldiers, isnāt they? Anā demon soldiers is likely worse! Like as not, theyāll slaughter thaā livestock taā sacrifice āem taā their heathen gods anā use my ale taā drink themselves drunk in their pagan rites!"
"No, they will not!" Carwyn insisted with a face that grew darker by the moment as his patience waned. He wanted to be with Olwyna right now, and he wanted his father to join them almost as badly, just to put his motherās mind at ease, but he couldnāt accomplish either until he could clear out a space for the Eldritch to camp.
"But letās say, just for a moment, letās say they wanted to do what you said," the young knight said in a tone that revealed just how frayed his patience was. "I fought Barsali in full armor, with a warhorse under me, a lance, a flail, and a shield, and Iāve trained my whole life to fight the Eldritch and other armored knights. Just one fight and he nearly tore me limb from limb," Carwyn said as his tone grew menacing.
"Do you know what it sounds like when your arm is pulled out of its socket?" Carwyn asked as he leaned close to the barrel-shaped man and poked him in the chest. "Can you imagine what it would be like to have his tail wrapped around you, crushing you like a snake crushes a mouse until your eyes bulge out of your head and your blood pours from your ears?"
"If the Eldritch are really going to raid your home to get at your ale, do you really think you can put up a better fight than I did?" Carwyn asked as he stared at the brewer who had gone pale-faced with sweat beading on his brow. "Wouldnāt it be safer to wait things out as my guest in the manor? Iāll have soldiers at the bridges to keep our villagers and the Eldritch apart so youāll be safe across the river," he suggested.
"But, but this is all I have!" Kraki protested. "Yer lordship, ye promised me a new life if I gave up workinā fer me master in Lothian City anā came out here taā teach my trade anā now ye want to snatch away what Iāve built!"
"No, no, I donāt want to take anything away from you, Master Kraki," Carwyn said as calmly as he could. "Iāve been a guest in their home for weeks now. I know these men. They arenāt what you think they are. But how about this," he said as he tried another approach. "If youāll come across the river, just until after the village gathering tonight, Iāll buy up all of your ale thatās ready to drink."
"I know thatās not everything!" Carwyn said when he saw a flicker of mercantile ambition in the heavyset manās eyes. "I know your best brews need to age till spring at least, and if the Eldritch destroy them, then I promise to pay for whatever they damage. But this way, even if nothing happens, you still make out well, donāt you?"
It took another ten minutes of pleading, threatening and bargaining before the brewer finally agreed to pack up and head across the river, and Carwyn had to promise that he would exempt Master Kraki from tithes for five years if he had to rebuild his business because of this, but in the end, the portly merchant took a handful of silver from Carwyn and hurried across the bridge along with the other villages leaving Millside.
Master Kraki wasnāt alone in his protests, and things nearly became violent when seven of the men who tended to the mills and granaries refused to leave for fear that the villageās food supply would be poisoned by the ādemonsā who would be camped just a stoneās throw away from half a harvestās worth of grain.
"Iāve been eating with these men for two days," Carwyn reassured them. "And with the rest of the Eldritch for nearly two weeks now. The last thing you need to worry about is that theyād poison your food," he said, though he winced slightly as he said it.
Carwyn had heard about Sir Ollie poisoning the food given to Lord Hugo and Sir Rainās men, but he firmly reminded himself that Sir Ollie had done so to prevent violence instead of capturing their prisoners more forcefully. The end result would have been the same, but the method was selected as a kindness to the men they took prisoner.
"Captain Barsali is an honorable Champion among the Eldritch," Carwyn insisted. "He would be horribly offended at the notion that he couldnāt defeat an opponent without resorting to poisons in our food. Trust me," he said with a wry smile. "You have more to fear from me and my men if you donāt get moving across the river than you have to fear from him," he said in a tone that contained both humor and enough sternness that the millers eventually relented.
By the time the Carwyn had cleared out Millside and the Eldritch finally caravan trundled through the gates, the day was already growing darker, and the strange weather had grown even colder when the heavy blanket of gray clouds drifted south and east, revealing an icy blue sky just beginning to darken.
For a moment, Carwyn thought he would have an hour or so of peace to spend with his family before they met with the villagers, but that feeling fled as soon as he saw Loftur supporting his father as the old man gingerly dismounted from his horse. At the same time, Carwyn noticed Barsali was moving carefully and resting one hand on his fatherās saddle as if to steady himself while they passed through the village gates.
"Father! What happened?" Carwyn asked as he pushed his way through the crowd to reach the men at the head of the caravan.