"What d'you see?" Stella asked, shielding her eyes from the morning sun.
"A pay rise," Welf shouted down from the golem's shoulder.
"What?!"
The monster was still standing, inert without the shaman's commands. Like a giant statue, it overlooked the Halaima pass. An occasional caravan could pass between its legs, but—
The nomads learned from their bloody mistake not to attack it again.
"Can see their recons," the blacksmith reported. He used the giant as a lookout tower, peering through a spyglass he bought for five gold pieces. "They're turning around."
Five gold.
Since Stella looked into Eyna's ledgers, she shuddered at such expenses.
But this might have been worth it.
"The golem had them change their minds. But those hand signs—this won't be the end of it."
"What do you mean?" she asked, trying to catch a glimpse.
She could strain her eyes all she wanted.
Without the spyglass and the elevation, she could only see the sun rising above the steppes.
"They're fanning out," Welf said. "Looking for alternative routes."
"What does it have to do with a pay rise? Wait, how much did the Prodigy pay you anyway?"
"Nothing at all," the head scout reported, jumping off the golem.
It didn't change the fact that she had to look up at him, even after he landed by her side.
"So—he made you work for free, but you expect me to pay?"
It was easy to understand.
Konrad was his friend, after all. He had charisma, while she—
"No, but we'll need more men. Many more, actually. And horses. Then feed them, too. Set up messengers along the mountains," the tall redhead recounted. "It will cost. A lot."
Stella blinked.
"Why all that? Why now?"
Welf let out a sigh, as if deliberating where to start.
"This pass," he said. "It's a convenient route for merchants, and easy to defend. Easy to keep an eye on it, too. But if they are going to look for alternatives, or tunnel under the mountain—"
"We'll have to spread thin as well," she finished the sentence.
Dig a tunnel under the entire mountain. Was that even possible?
"They seem to play the long game now. It's annoying," Welf grunted. "I don't know who feeds them or why, but they don't want to leave that huge camp at the foot of the hills."
Which meant they had to set up their defenses for the long term, too.
"Couldn't your tribesmen keep an eye on the trails and whatnot?" Stella asked, calculating in her head. One scout with one horse—it would have cost them two silver a month at the very least.
How many would they need?
"They have some villages up there, but they can't cover everything. And even if they did, how would they let us know if they saw something? On those treacherous small roads? On foot?"
"So rather than a regiment of scouts, we need a fast messenger service," she pondered.
And only the saints knew for how long.
"Well, we could also try to attack the nomads' camp and rout them, but—"
Stella shook her head.
Not an option.
The Prodigy defeated what, five thousand men? She killed and captured a few hundred, let's say two thousand at most. But the nomads had an enormous horde out there.
Tens of thousands. Hundreds, even.
They could never match their numbers without the king's aid or the dukes' support.
And no matter what, a battle on that scale would have seen huge losses on both sides anyway.
If she learned one thing about the Prodigy, it was that he hated senseless killing.
They were a terrible match, Stella and that guy.
Konrad, the wise and humane noble, and the former Church executioner.
A necromancer sheltered from former masters, but expected to lead the kingdom's defenses.
If this were to be a joke, she couldn't laugh at it. Who even decided on such a thing?
She definitely didn't make it up, but she couldn't remember who put her in charge. Did she overwork herself so much that she had already forgotten? It has been only a week.
How the hell did Konrad keep up with everything?
Humans needed sleep, but—
"We need unblinking eyes on the ridges, and a cheap and fast method to bring their words back to us, right?" Stella asked. A thought occurred to her as they walked towards the barracks.
"That's the gist of it," Welf nodded, raising an eyebrow at her. "You got a genius idea?"
What? Did he expect her to be like the Prodigy?
"The opposite of genius, actually. But—it wouldn't cost us a thing, and might still work."
The redhead blinked.
"If you plan to use Konrad's tricks, good luck with that," he scoffed. "I don't know the whole story, but it had something to do with Maple and those wyverns, so—"
"I have my own tricks, thank you very much," Stella said. "Though I'd rather call them a curse."
Welf froze, right on the doorstep.
"Zombies? You want to line the ridges with them?! Can you also see through their eyes?"
"No. As convenient as that would be. But I can give them tasks and talk to them."
The tribesman shivered.
"Talking with the dead? Uh, do we have enough corpses from that last battle?"
"They don't have to be human," Stella pointed out. "It would actually be better if I used smaller animals. Less of a toll on me, so long as their eyesight is still sharp enough."
"So, um, you use telepathy with those, or what?" Welf asked.
What a practical question.
"Not exactly," she said. "I can more or less read the resonances of their life essence. It's uh, complicated. But as long as I can see them, we can communicate."
"Means you'd have to keep visiting the mountains to get their report."
"What? No. They could come to me instead," she claimed. "Birds. Two dozen would be enough, and ravens are best. They can learn the human language."
"Oh boy, we'd depend on dead birds bringing news? Could you cover the whole mountain?"
Stella had to think about it.
"Falcons or squirrels are small enough to control hundreds of them with the Demon Lord's staff. I'd have to make some sacrifices, but—can your hunters bring enough to me?"
Another shudder.
"Sacrifices? I don't even want to ask," Welf noted, scratching his jaw. "Squirrels should be no problem, but falcons are rare. Not to mention some tribes treat them as holy animals."
Stella knew. Inquisitor Otto used to mock them for it.
But now her job was to defend everyone, including those wildlings.
Forcing them to hunt their idols wouldn't be a great start.
"Then about two hundred squirrels," she said. "And two dozen ravens. Enough to cover five hundred miles—the entire eastern border and then some. How long will it take to get it done?"
Welf scowled.
"I'll get the word out by tomorrow," he sighed. "It shouldn't take more than a week. But if we want secrecy—? It'd be bad if someone found out we use dead squirrels as patrols."
"Make sure their eyes are intact," Stella said. "Say they'll be part of a new insignia, or something."
"For a new mountaineer regiment," the blacksmith muttered. "Hmm, yeah. That could work. And to make sure nobody wanted to mess with them, let's call it the Deathwatch."
"Deathwatch?" It had a nice ring to it. More menacing than some dead animals. "Get it done."