On your way through Blackford town.

[miltonyorkcastle]

North of the Blackford Castle and parked along the roadside, the day's travelers noted a caravan of wagons and mules. Each wagon sported an armored escort complete with a crossbow-man and mounted militia. Two men, one on horseback, walked the length of the wagon train, from front to rear. The man on foot, a Master Bixle, carried a parchment, which he periodically studied, but only after he first studied the contents of a wagon. Lieutenant Jarro rode the horse that kept pace with Master Bixle. Finally, they reached the end of the line.

"Everything looks to be in order, Lieutenant. This is the last of it. Be sure it gets there."

"Yes, sir. After this last run to Leringard, I am due at the east coast, by order of the Queen. Since I won't be back to Blackford for some time, perhaps you could do me a favor?"

Jarro produced a rolled up letter, sealed with wax, which he held out to Bixle. The old quartermaster squinted at the object, like he was trying to peer through to its contents.

"Another note for my daughter, eh?"

"She expects no less."

"I expect a bit more."

Jarro flashed his best elite-soldier smile, the colors of Blackford showing clean on the uniform, bright on horseback. Bixle snatched the letter, shoving it in his belt.

"Get on with ye, Lieutenant. One crate from that supply train goes missing, and I'll be sure the Queen herself knows who lost it."

"I've lead all twenty-two of these supply runs to Leringard without so much as spilling a speck of sand. Should I lose the whole supply train this last trip, I'll pay for the loss out of my own pocket."

"You're bleeding right you will. Off the sweat of your back. Can't afford to lose anything these days, not with the pirate attacks, dragon attacks, and foreigners thinking they can buy into our bloody good graces by sending rotten wood every time there is even a hint of disaster."

"Thank you, Master Bixle, for reminding me of that most important understanding yet again. Now before you yell at me for starting my journey too late, I'll remind you to tell Harmony that I already miss her and that I wish her good luck in tomorrow's longsword competition."

Bixle's face steamed deep red, a snarl showing off one brown tooth.

"Tell her yourself. You already owe me for all this letter delivering, not to mention her joining the army in the first place!" Bixle spits. "I didn't name her Harmony so she would join the army."

"She's at least as ornery as you, which is why she'll do fine."

"Fine getting herself killed fighting pirates."

"She's in the Queen's army, not the Queen's navy."

"Pirates have to come ashore sometime."

"Of course they do. Farewell, Master Bixle."

Lieutenant Jarro spurred his horse to the front of the caravan, leaving the grumbling quartermaster to make his way back to the castle granaries and eventually to his daughter, still practicing her best moves for the longsword competition.