With the immediate military threat addressed, Deacon dedicated the following morning to the long-term logistical threat: the famine. He could repel the Goblins, but if the city starved by winter, the entire operation failed.
Deacon gathered the five most respected farmers, identified by Elara, in the Hold's council room. Among them, he suspected, were Specialist Jones and Specialist Davis—the woodcutters now serving as the S-2 tripwire—and possibly the S-1 Personnel assets the Major had requested.
The farmers were wary, knowing the previous Lord had stripped them bare. They looked malnourished and skeptical.
"Gentlemen," Deacon began, abandoning the noble pretension for the plain, direct speech of a logistics chief. "The Goblins are coming. But the true enemy of Oakhaven is the failing soil."
He revealed his plan: "I am granting you an emergency Seed Loan from the Castellan's last reserve of grain. This loan has no interest, provided you comply with my new planting methods."
The farmers murmured in disbelief at the lack of interest.
Deacon pushed a set of crude parchment diagrams across the table. They depicted crop rotation—a concept known in antiquity but lost to Oakhaven's current soil-depleting methods—and basic composting (using agricultural waste, not the city's sewage berm). .
"You will divide your fields into three plots. One for wheat, one for livestock feed (like clover), and one for fallow—the empty field is just as important as the planted ones. You will use compost to enrich the soil, not just animal waste."
The lead farmer, a grizzled man named Tevor, protested, "My Lord, that leaves a third of the field empty! We will starve sooner!"
"You will starve later, Tevor," Deacon countered. "The field that rests today will give you three times the yield next year. The clover field will fix the nitrogen in the soil, enriching the wheat field next season. This is the science of the earth that my ancestors studied. You will adopt it, or you will be barred from the loan."
Deacon watched the farmers' reactions. Four of them looked terrified and confused. But Tevor, a man whose hands were scarred not just by farming but by other, rougher labor, stared at the diagram with a look of recognition.
Tevor spoke, his voice thoughtful. "The clover… you mean, nitrogen fixation? I read of something similar in an old book—it replenishes the soil's strength."
Nitrogen fixation. That was a term that only a modern agricultural technician would know. Deacon found his agricultural expert.
"Yes, Tevor. Nitrogen fixation. You are a man of learning," Deacon confirmed. "I want you to be the Agricultural Overseer. You will lead this project. Report directly to the Castellan with your progress."
Deacon then looked at a quiet, observant man named Finn, whose eyes were sharp and constantly moving—a sign of a good scout.
"Finn, you own the forest plots, yes? You will deliver wood for the new communal ovens the Castellan is commissioning. But you will also track animal movements near the Blackwood. The health of the forest tells us much about the health of the threat."
He had covertly deployed his Agricultural Logistics Chief (Tevor/S-1) and given his Scouts (Finn/Jones/Davis) a logical civilian task tied to their military mission.
S-1 Confirmed
Deacon knew he had confirmed Tevor as an asset, but the identity of the P. E. P. P. E. R. assets the Major had requested (the stealth/CQB specialists) was still unknown.
As the farmers left, Elara approached, looking frazzled. "My Lord, the two spice merchant apprentices you asked about—the ones the physician inquired about—they were seen arguing near the docks. They were demanding an exorbitant price for a small, heavy sack of salt."
Salt is heavy, and heavy sacks are usually used for smuggling.
Deacon felt a powerful intuition. "Send a message to those apprentices. Tell them the Castellan requires them to begin work immediately on the roofs of the North Gate—clearing the debris and preparing the area for the 'Heavy Artillery' Commander Harl is installing. Tell them their loyalty will be paid in pure silver."
He wasn't buying salt; he was buying their loyalty with silver—the mercenary payment Kiley had hinted at—and placing them directly into a crucial defensive position where their stealth and CQB skills would be maximized.
The final piece of the Shadow Command was about to fall into place. Deacon had less than 24 hours remaining.