Chapter 13: Worries

Taking a deep breath, Gwenis calmed himself. "There's no need to rush," he reassured himself. "Even a damaged ship has many nails to hold it together." As the Baron of Targus, he was determined to find something valuable in his domain to mend the gaping hole of debts.

Motivated by this thought, Gwenis began a thorough search of the study, followed by a chaotic upheaval of the baron's bedroom. His efforts yielded a meager sum of six silver coins and nine copper coins. It was almost inconceivable - in such a grand castle, this paltry amount was all that remained.

Silence enveloped Gwenis as he left the baron's bedroom and descended the stairs. Stepping out of the main building, he was greeted by the sight of Captain Jervis and a few guards escorting prisoners into the yard – three individuals, two women, and a young man.

The women appeared to be in their forties, while the young man looked about fifteen or sixteen. Captain Jervis promptly approached Gwenis for confirmation, "My Lord, we have apprehended the individuals as per your description. Please verify."

Indeed, right after assuming his role, Gwenis had dispatched the guards to search for these three near the borders, based on specific descriptions he had provided. Their swift capture was a testament to the guards' efficiency.

The trio's appearance was distressing. The women were emaciated and had swollen, red eyes, likely from incessant crying. Dirt and mud marred their clothes and hair. The young man, in contrast, seemed on the brink of death, with one infected, inflamed ear that exuded a foul smell from a distance.

A flicker of sympathy crossed Gwenis's heart upon witnessing their wretched state. Their days of hiding in the forest, enduring harsh conditions, hunger, and constant fear, had reduced them to mere shadows of themselves.

They seemed nothing more than distraught women, bereft of their families, and a young boy on the cusp of adulthood. "How were they found?" Gwenis inquired.

The guards explained that the trio was discovered hiding in an unnamed graveyard in the forest, surrounded by nearly ten skeletons, some old and others freshly buried.

"When we found them, this lad kept screaming about encountering a devil," one guard recounted.

"What should be done with them?" Jervis asked, seeking guidance.

Gwenis, looking into their forlorn faces and their eyes brimming with pleas for mercy, turned and left without a word. "Hang them," he coldly ordered.

The guards obediently began preparations for the execution. Gwenis's heart remained unmoved by their plight; his empathy was reserved for the innocent lives they had taken, who deserved greater pity.

After this brief episode, Gwenis moved towards the castle's blacksmith workshop. In the aftermath of the battle with the Inverness men, the seized chainmail required repairs. The blacksmith hurriedly reported the situation upon Gwenis's arrival.

Apart from the two men Gwenis personally dispatched, the chainmail of the other six was extensively damaged. Although repairable, the castle's stock of processed iron was critically low and in urgent need of replenishment.

During Sophia's reign, she had largely ignored many of the castle's needs. Even Baldwin's cautious reminders were met with procrastination, leaving Gwenis to clean up the aftermath.

Faced with this predicament, Gwenis assured the blacksmith to continue with the available resources, promising to resolve the shortage at the earliest.

Exiting the blacksmith workshop, Gwenis then encountered Anserm, who had come to bid farewell. Following the resolution of the succession issue, Gwenis had offered them hospitality at the castle, but now they were ready to depart.

"Gwenis, thank you for the beer and roast meat. However, last night, I dreamt of the girls in Dunfries calling out to me," Anserm said, indicating his time to leave.

Gwenis nodded but appeared troubled. He hesitated, then decided to be frank. "Anserm, we've known each other for years, so I won't hide it from you. The castle's financial situation is more serious than I thought. If you must leave now, I can't afford the money I promised. I can only owe you, or you can take something else as debt payment."

Anserm fell silent for a moment before replying, "I might let it slide, but my men followed me all the way here, put in effort, and shed blood. Asking them to leave empty-handed is something I can't bring myself to do."

Eventually, after negotiating, Gwenis let Anserm and his men take six horses, gifts from the Duke of Inverness. He kept two for himself. A horse's market price was six silver coins, totaling thirty-six silver coins, a substantial sum even for the fully mobilized Rock Mercenary Group. Divided among them, each would get eighteen copper coins – enough for a joyous return to Dunfries, indulging in seven days and nights of drinking or twenty encounters with girls.

As for Rosalyn.

"Are you sure you want to stay?" Anserm asked.

She nodded.

Anserm sighed, "He's a noble now. I don't want to speak ill of him, but it's uncertain if he'll be the same with us as before. Think it over."

Rosalyn looked up at Anserm with a smile, "If he changes and is no longer the man I knew, then I'll return to Dunfries. It's not far, just thirty leagues."

After a long gaze, Rosalyn's smile remained resolute. Eventually, Anserm extended his hand for a farewell handshake.

"Goodbye."

The mercenary group left that day, filling their water bags with beer and taking several bags of smoked meat and rye bread as provisions.

Gwenis saw them off until their figures vanished into the sunset, then returned to the castle with Rosalyn. Naturally, he was more than happy about Rosalyn's decision to stay. Setting personal reasons aside, who wouldn't want to keep a healing mage close in an era with scarce medical resources?

On their way back to the castle, with the setting sun casting long shadows behind them, they rode side by side in silence, creating a picturesque scene of warmth and beauty.

It was late August, the end of summer and the start of autumn. Along the roadside, peasants were busy harvesting ripe rye, rushing to sow seeds before winter's arrival and hoping for growth in spring and maturity in summer.

Day after day, year after year.

Seeing Gwenis, the peasants pushing wheelbarrows on the road would stop, make way, and bow their heads in respect.

Gwenis occasionally nodded in acknowledgment, but upon closer inspection, his face was clouded with gloom. The reason was nothing else but the looming crisis indicated by the system, for which he was utterly unprepared.

Moreover, unlike personal points, how does one acquire these ruling points from the system? Does one only gain points with each new territory or title acquired?

Observing the peasants bowing humbly by the roadside, Gwenis sank into deep contemplation.