The old mill was a skeleton of its former self, its great wheel still and silent, but its stone structure provided a neutral, open-sided meeting place. Marius was already there with two of his people: a stern-faced woman who carried herself like a soldier, and an older man with the keen, assessing eyes of an engineer.
The air was thick with unspoken tension. Kaelen's hand never strayed far from her falchion, and the Vanguard woman's posture was rigidly alert. This was the delicate dance of a first date between former enemies.
Rex gestured, and their cart was rolled forward. "As agreed," he stated. "Six felling axes, tempered and sharpened. Seedlings from our greenhouse. And a chest of medical supplies."
Marius nodded to his engineer, who stepped forward to inspect the axes. The man tested the balance, ran a thumb along the edge, and gave a grunt of approval. "Good steel. Clean work." It was the highest praise he was likely to give.
The Vanguard woman, introduced as Lena, accepted the seedlings from Elara with a curt nod. "We have struggled to grow in the cold," she admitted, her voice clipped.
"The cabbage is hardy," Elara replied, her tone professionally kind. "But if your soil is poor, you'll need to amend it. I can advise you." The offer hung in the air, a thread of potential collaboration.
Then Rex presented Liana's map. He unrolled it on a moss-covered stone block. "One of our chroniclers noted your scouts having difficulty with the eastern marshes. This details the safe paths."
Marius's calm facade cracked for a second, revealing pure astonishment. This was beyond trade; this was actionable intelligence freely given. He studied the map, his finger tracing the precise lines. "This is… significant. Why give this to us?"
"Because a stable neighbor is a predictable neighbor," Rex said, echoing Liana's wisdom. "Your men dying in a bog helps no one."
Marius looked from the map to Rex's face, reassessing him once more. The currency here was not just goods, but trust, and Rex had just made a substantial deposit.
In return, the Vanguard presented their goods: another cart of high-quality stone, but also something unexpected. A dozen young apple tree saplings, their roots carefully bundled. "From an old orchard we control," Marius explained. "A long-term investment."
It was a perfect counter-gift. It acknowledged Avalon's focus on sustainable growth.
The formal exchange complete, the atmosphere eased by a fraction. The two groups shared a cautious meal of their own rations, sitting apart but within speaking distance. Elara and the Vanguard's engineer talked about soil pH. Kaelen and Lena debated the merits of different steel alloys in a series of terse, respectful exchanges.
On the journey back, the cart of stone and saplings felt heavier, more meaningful, than any shipment before.
"They are not what I expected," Elara mused, looking back at the receding mill. "They are… organized. They think ahead."
"That's what makes them dangerous," Kaelen countered, but her usual venom was absent. She was turning one of the new Vanguard axes over in her hands, studying its design. "And useful."
Rex said nothing, his mind already working. The trade was a success, but it had revealed the Vanguard's sophistication. They were not just survivors; they were planners, like him. The apple trees were a message: We also think in generations.
The battle lines were redrawn. They were no longer holding a fortress against savages. They were engaged in a quiet, high-stakes competition with a rival civilization. And the primary weapons were no longer just swords and arrows, but apple trees, cabbage seedlings, and meticulously drawn maps.