During that week of preparations, Ola had countless matters to handle personally every day.
His warriors needed supplies.
Their rusted chainmail needed new iron links, their nicked battleaxes needed sharpening, and their bottomless stomachs were silently devouring his granaries.
All of it required Gold Suns.
"Glenn, bring ten of our brothers and come with me."
Ola's voice sounded low and heavy in the thin morning mist.
He rested his enormous battleaxe on his shoulder, its blade gleaming coldly in the faint light.
Their destination was Creek Valley Village, a pioneer holding west of Stone Salt Town.
Its lord, a Pioneer Knight, paid him "tribute" every year in exchange for peace for himself and his people.
It was hardly an honorable trade, but honor did not sharpen battleaxes.
Hooves struck the muddy road, splashing murky water.
Ten heavily armored knights followed Ola in silence. They were the elite of the [Shatterrock Knights], hardened veterans who had each clawed their way out of piles of corpses.
The horses' panting and the clatter of armor were the only music in the wilderness.
They reached Creek Valley Village at noon.
Dozens of thatched cottages clustered loosely around a stone longhouse, looking like a flock of frightened quail.
At the sight of Ola and his men, the farmers working in the fields dropped their tools and fled into their homes, slamming the doors shut.
The longhouse door opened, and the Pioneer Knight Kane stepped out. His face was haggard, and his badly worn studded leather armor looked even grayer than his complexion.
"Baron Stonebeard, my lord, what brings you-"
Ola ignored his greeting and dismounted. Rather than reaching for his battleaxe, his thick fingers first pulled a flat, empty purse from the leather bag on his saddle. He shook it in front of Kane, sending