Chapter 5: Echoes of Power
In my short time as a baron, I'd already begun shifting the balance of power. My growing army, the protection of witches, and my newfound alliance with Lord Merek gave me the leverage I needed. But there was still much to be done, and I wasn't naive enough to think my challenges would end with one noble's favor.
My estate—Fort Eldham, located in the heart of Harrow's Reach—was slowly growing more fortified. Each day, new recruits arrived for training, enticed by the promise of silver and a better life. But today, I rode through the neighboring villages to fulfill my promise to Lord Merek.
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Lord Merek's Son
Lord Merek's son, a frail boy of about twelve, had been bedridden for months. The local physicians were at a loss, and the Church's so-called remedies had only worsened his condition. It didn't take long for me to diagnose him—rheumatic fever, a disease caused by untreated throat infections that had taken root in his heart. A common illness in my world, and one I knew how to treat with the resources I had.
I examined the boy carefully, feeling the irregular rhythm of his heartbeat and the fever that racked his body. His joints were swollen, a telltale sign of the disease.
"You were right to call me," I said, standing up to face Lord Merek. "Your son is suffering from a severe infection that's damaged his heart. But I can treat him. He should begin to recover within a few weeks."
Lord Merek, standing with his arms folded across his chest, breathed a sigh of relief. "What do you need?"
"Penicillin," I replied confidently. "I have it back at my estate. I'll administer the first treatment today, but he will need continuous care."
After administering the antibiotic, I left instructions for the boy's care before taking my leave. The road back to Harrow's Reach would take several hours, and I had other matters to attend to.
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A Witch on the Run
As I rode back to my lands, passing through the village of Raventry, a commotion caught my attention. Villagers were gathered in the square, their faces grim with fear. I dismounted, calling one of the locals over to inquire about the disturbance.
"A witch, my lord," the man said, his voice trembling. "She kidnapped a child and fled into the woods."
I frowned. This wasn't the usual behavior of witches—they rarely involved themselves with children unless there was some desperate need. But I knew better than to act on mere assumptions.
"And you haven't been able to track her?" I asked.
The man shook his head. "No, my lord. She vanished without a trace. The hunters followed, but it's as if she disappeared into thin air."
It wasn't surprising. Witches had many ways of concealing themselves. And with the vast wilderness that stretched between the villages, the chances of finding her were slim. Still, it was something I would keep in mind. I couldn't be everywhere, and there were many forces at play—forces that might challenge my growing influence.
"I'll keep an ear to the ground," I said. "But for now, return to your homes. There's nothing more to be done until we have more information."
With that, I continued my journey back to Harrow's Reach, my thoughts lingering on the mysterious witch. I'd have to stay vigilant.
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An Unexpected Visitor
A few days passed without incident, and I found myself reviewing the progress of my army's training when Lyra came to me one evening, her face unusually serious.
"My lord," she began, her voice quiet but urgent. "A witch came to see me today. She believed I was being held here against my will."
I raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "And what did she want?"
"To take me away," Lyra explained. "She's the one who can see magic—her name is Sylvia. She thought I was a prisoner, and it took some convincing to explain the truth to her."
Sylvia. The witch who could see the flow of magic itself. I remembered reading about her—one of the witches who played a significant role in the future. If I could win her over, it would be another step toward securing a strong foundation for my plans.
"And now?" I asked.
"She's still hesitant to believe me," Lyra admitted. "But I told her I could arrange a meeting with you. She agreed to speak with you before making any decisions."
I considered this for a moment. A meeting with Sylvia could be the opportunity I needed, but witches—especially those as perceptive as her—were cautious. I had to tread carefully.
"Very well," I said. "We'll meet tonight. Bring her to me at midnight, but make sure no one else sees her enter the manor."
Lyra nodded, clearly relieved that I had agreed. "I will, my lord."
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A Midnight Meeting
Midnight came swiftly, and I waited in my study as the moonlight filtered through the tall windows. The hour was late, and the estate was quiet. The perfect time for a discreet meeting.
Lyra entered first, followed by a woman with sharp, intelligent eyes—Sylvia. Her gaze immediately flicked to the air around me, as if she were inspecting the very magic that flowed within me. I could tell she wasn't the type to be easily convinced.
"You must be Sylvia," I said, standing to greet her. "I've heard much about your abilities."
She didn't return the pleasantries. "I'm here to ensure Lyra is safe. I don't trust any lord who claims to protect witches."
I smiled, not offended by her bluntness. "You're wise to be cautious. But as you can see, Lyra is not a prisoner here. She's free to leave whenever she wishes."
Sylvia's eyes narrowed as she studied me, her ability to sense magic no doubt feeding her observations. "You don't have the aura of someone who practices the Church's ways. But that doesn't mean you can be trusted."
"True enough," I said calmly. "Trust is earned, not given. But let me be clear—I have no interest in controlling witches. I offer them protection because I see their power for what it is: a tool that can be used for the greater good. I don't care about the Church's lies."
Sylvia crossed her arms, still skeptical. "And what do you gain from all of this?"
I met her gaze evenly. "I'm building something larger than myself—an alliance of those who see the world for what it truly is. Witches, like you, have a place in that future. But it's not a future I can create alone."
For a moment, Sylvia was silent, her eyes flicking between me and Lyra. Finally, she spoke, her tone cautious but no longer hostile. "I'll hear you out. But if I sense any deception, I won't hesitate to take Lyra and leave."
"Fair enough," I replied. "We'll speak, and you'll see that I mean what I say."
As she sat down, I knew this was only the beginning. Convincing Sylvia to join my cause would take time and care, but if I succeeded, I'd be one step closer to securing the witches—and my power—before Roland's arrival.