The status report came in at the usual hour. Aiden sat at the table in the command room, reading the short lines of ink. Supply counts held. Patrol rotations remained clean. No new contacts from the southern roads.
Everything looked ordinary until the second sheet arrived, carried by a runner who looked like he had ridden hard through the night.
The northern house wanted a change. The temple observer assigned to the coming talks would no longer be the junior clerk they had named earlier.
They required someone of higher standing. They also demanded a face-to-face confirmation at a neutral waystation five days from now. No proxies. No delay.
Aiden set the paper down. The political pressure had been quiet for weeks. Now it was back, light but sharp. He accepted the terms in the return message and ordered the minimal escort prepared.
The meeting would happen. The rest of the morning still had to be handled.
