Still looking through the window, I watched their movements. The wagons were not positioned to facilitate the unloading of goods, but rather to create physical barriers that narrowed the streets of Valenreach. Every guard who passed carried a posture of readiness that I had only ever seen in Lygni—a professional alertness that did not belong to simple cargo escorts.
"Let's investigate," I said, still watching, without taking my eyes off the leader of the merchants who was talking to one of his men in the center of the village.
"How so, milord?" Obrem asked, approaching the window with a furrowed brow, the pale afternoon light highlighting the veteran scars on his face.
"If they really are what you say, I won't be able to stop them with just a signed piece of paper. Gather some people you trust," I said, crossing my arms with my eyes fixed on the target. If what Obrem said is correct, then they are not mere merchants. We need to spy on them closely; if we notice anything suspicious, we will have to act before they act first. If they act first, we won't be able to do anything, and Valenreach will fall before dawn.
I felt the weight of my own negligence gnawing at my stomach. I needed to get stronger in case there were conflicts between the residents and them, but my progress with the Web was still pitiful—a dull tool in the hands of an amateur. Cold sweat ran down my temples as I stared at the village through the window, watching the shadow of the strangers stretch over the houses of Valenreach like the claws of a hungry beast.
"Let's just observe for now," I told Obrem, my voice coming out more tense than I intended. "We need spies".
"Milord, if they find out, trust could be shaken," Obrem said beside me, his hand resting on the hilt of his worn sword—an instinctive gesture of someone who senses the storm coming.
The situation was bad, but for now, I needed to find out more about them. It wasn't enough just to know they were soldiers; I needed to understand the legal loophole they were using to settle here with such arrogance.
"Obrem, the parchment they signed, where is it?"
Obrem, with an agility that contrasted with his age and his scars, quickly pulled the parchment from his bag. "Here".
I took the document and opened it on the table, the tips of my fingers trembling slightly. Come on, I need to find something I missed. My administrator's eyes, trained to find flaws in balance sheets and budgets, began to scan every line of black ink, every wax seal, and every contingency clause.
"Obrem, have you ever been cheated by a merchant?" I asked him, without looking away from the text.
"Well, when I was younger, yes. Well, sometimes I still am," he said with a laugh, but there was a hint of bitterness in his tone. "They sell the glow of gold, but deliver the weight of lead".
There it was. Shady dealers always try to cheat people, but I was so focused on profit that I barely noticed the trap I had created for myself. The deal greatly benefited both parties, but we would still be much further ahead in terms of infrastructure and royalties in the long run. And they signed without hesitation.
Did they manage to see beyond me? Or was it I who failed to read them?
I reread the "Cargo Security and Protection" clause. My eyes narrowed. There, hidden under refined Capital legalese, was the mistake: "The contractor reserves the right to maintain escort contingents proportional to the value of the goods on sovereign soil, to guarantee the integrity of the investment against local insurgencies".
Local insurgencies. They didn't bring guards to protect the gold from road bandits; they brought an army to "protect" the gold from me and my people, in case we decided to kick them out. I had signed a Trojan Horse.
"Obrem, they aren't here to negotiate," I whispered, feeling my stomach churn. "They are here to occupy. Every guard they brought is 'legally' permitted by this damn piece of paper that I drafted myself".
Obrem cleared his throat, the dry sound cutting through the silence of the office. "So, what shall we do, Your Highness? If their law is steel and your paper gave them the ground, how are we going to take the ground from under their feet?"
"Gather the best villagers who have a good command of the Web; gather the best spies," I ordered, my voice sounding firmer than I felt inside.
With Lygni away, we would have to deal with this ourselves. The problem was that Valenreach did not have an army; in fact, we were just a group of residents, craftsmen, and manual laborers who still looked at me with a mixture of hope and deep distrust. I was the prince who neglected them for years, and now I was asking them to become spies and soldiers overnight.
The situation was bad. I looked again through the crack in the window. The merchants' movement was far too suspicious. They weren't just standing guard; they were establishing perimeters. I saw a group of them marking the trunks of trees near the canal with a strange symbol—something that looked like a military coordinate.
"Milord," Obrem intervened, his voice low and cautious. "The men you ask for... they know how to dig canals and build walls. They learned to feel the Web for construction, not for destruction. Asking them to spy on Capital soldiers is almost a death sentence".
"I know, Obrem. But if we do nothing, Valenreach's death sentence is already signed by that pen there on the table," I pointed to the object that now looked like a weapon turned against me. "I don't want them to fight. I want them to be eyes. We need to know what's inside those 'sealed' boxes they refuse to open in the warehouses".
Obrem nodded, although hesitation was written across his only good eye. He was about to leave the room.
"Obrem, with Lygni away, you are my only hope to master the Web in an acceptable way," I said, looking at him. "Please, teach me what you know".
He didn't speak immediately, appearing as if he were trying to remember something, but then he looked at me. "I will gather the best, and I will teach you the best I can," he finally said, and left.
Leaving me alone with the oppressive silence of the office. The situation was terrible, and I was to blame for it. For now, this is the best I can do; I have to keep an eye on them, and if anything goes out of place, I'll have to intervene. But my strength now is nothing compared to theirs; I need to get better soon.