The cart of salt was more than a commodity; it was a symbol. Its arrival marked the first tangible exchange, the first thread of a fragile peace. Rex ordered it taken to the granary, but not before Elara and Madame Dubois inspected it for any potential contaminants. Trust was a theory; caution was practice.
The following week, a different kind of work began. Under the terms of the truce, a group from Marius's Vanguard, escorted by Marius himself, delivered the first load of quality limestone from the quarry. They stopped at the designated neutral point—the edge of the old Roman road. From there, Avalon's own crews, under Jean's command, transported the heavy blocks back to the castle.
The sight of the enemy—now the trading partner—laboring in the distance without hostility was surreal. Rex watched from the wall as the first of the new stones was hoisted onto a repaired section of the curtain wall. It was a different kind of foundation, one built on pragmatism instead of pure force.
Kaelen, however, was not won over. She stood with Rex, her arms crossed. "They are measuring our strength with every load," she muttered. "They see how many men we have, how we work, the state of our walls."
"I know," Rex replied calmly. "And we are measuring them. We see their discipline, the quality of their stone, the condition of their tools. This is not friendship, Kaelen. It is mutual reconnaissance. And right now, we need their stone more than they need to know our business."
To manage the new reality, Rex instituted a new role: Border Wardens. He put Felix, the former Newcomer leader whose loyalty was now unquestioned, in charge. His team was responsible for manning the watchtowers facing the Vanguard's territory and escorting the stone transports. It was a test of Felix's leadership and a message to the Vanguard that Avalon was capable of delegating real authority.
Meanwhile, within the walls, the first "market day" was being planned. It was not a public event, but a controlled, diplomatic exchange. Rex, Elara, and Kaelen would go to the old mill with a cart of their own. Their cargo: six expertly forged wood-axes, a bundle of hardy winter cabbage seedlings from Elara's greenhouse, and a promise of future medical aid for the Vanguard's own sick, brokered by Elara.
The night before the meeting, Rex found himself in the infirmary. Elara was carefully packing a small chest with basic medical supplies—antiseptic, sutures, a precious few broad-spectrum antibiotics.
"It feels strange," she said, without looking up. "Preparing to heal the very people who shot at you."
"That's the point," Rex said, leaning against the doorway. "We're showing them that our greatest strength isn't our walls or our weapons. It's our ability to create, to grow, and to heal. That is a resource they cannot take by force. They have to come to us for it."
She closed the chest and looked at him, her expression soft. "You're building something more than just a safe place, Rex. You're building an idea."
The next morning, as Rex, Kaelen, and Elara prepared to leave for the mill, Liana approached. She held out a small, rolled parchment tied with a string.
"For them," she said quietly. "It is a map of the safe paths through the marshes to the east. Their scouts have been getting stuck there."
Rex took it, stunned. It was an act of profound strategic generosity. "Why?"
Liana met his gaze. "Because you are right. An idea is stronger than a wall."
As the gates opened and they stepped out onto the road, the cart of tools, plants, and medicine rolling behind them, Rex felt a shift. The first stone of peace had been laid, not with a treaty, but with an axe, a cabbage, and a map. The battle for survival was evolving into a battle for influence, and Avalon was poised to win.