The steady rhythm of hammers and saws filled the air as Leon stood by the village gates, overseeing the final construction of the southern wall. His mind was constantly turning, thinking about the next steps, the defenses, and how to keep everyone safe in Vekara. The weight of leadership pressed on him harder with every passing day, but he had learned to carry it. He had no choice.
As he watched the workers, a group of mercenaries emerged from the forest, their arrival pulling Leon's attention away from the construction. Gorak was leading them, his broad figure unmistakable as he trudged forward with several men behind him, each carrying game they had hunted—wild boar, deer, and a few hares. They had been out for hours, and though they returned with food, there was something in Gorak's face that told Leon it hadn't been an easy trip.
Leon moved to meet them, his eyes scanning the group. Gorak's expression was tense, and the usual relaxed confidence was gone from his posture.
"Good haul," Leon said, nodding at the game the men carried. "But something's bothering you. What is it?"
Gorak wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand, his face grim. "Yeah, we brought back enough to feed the village for a while. But it's not the hunting that's the problem. There were people out there in the forest, Leon. Armed. I'm not sure who they are, but they're not locals."
Leon's gaze sharpened immediately. "How many?"
"Hard to say for sure," Gorak replied, his voice low. "We spotted at least four or five, but there could've been more. They were spread out, moving through the trees like they were looking for something—or someone. They weren't dressed like the king's soldiers, though. More like mercenaries, but not like ours. Ragged. Desperate."
Leon's mind raced. Armed men roaming the forest near Vekara was a bad sign, no matter who they were. The king's soldiers were a constant threat, but mercenaries—especially desperate ones—could be just as dangerous. He had to assume the worst until he had more information.
"You think they saw you?" Leon asked, his voice tight with concern.
Gorak shook his head. "We kept our distance. They didn't spot us, but we kept eyes on them for a while. They were searching, that's for sure. Whether it's for food or something else, I couldn't tell. But they were armed, and they weren't moving like lost travelers."
Leon cursed under his breath. The timing couldn't have been worse. With the village walls still incomplete and the refugees like Lina and Arren in their care, they were vulnerable. And if these men were part of a larger group—or worse, a scouting party sent by the king—they needed to act fast.
"Where exactly did you see them?" Leon asked, his voice calm but urgent.
Gorak pointed back toward the forest, his eyes narrowing. "East of here, near the edge of the river. They weren't sticking to the main paths. I'd bet they've been out there for a while, keeping to the woods. If they're looking for us, they're doing it quietly."
Leon nodded, his mind already racing through the possibilities. "We can't afford to take any chances. We need to get eyes on them again, see if there are more, and figure out what they're after. If they're just passing through, fine. But if they're here for us…"
"They might be looking for Vekara," Gorak finished grimly. "And if that's the case, we'll need more than just eyes on them. We'll need to prepare for a fight."
Leon didn't hesitate. "Take a few of your best men and go back out. Keep your distance, but track them. I want to know who they are, how many there are, and whether they're a threat. If they're moving toward the village, we'll act. But don't engage unless you have to."
Gorak nodded, his expression serious. "Understood. I'll leave right away."
Leon watched as Gorak gathered a small group of mercenaries and disappeared back into the forest, their figures quickly swallowed by the thick trees. He felt a knot of anxiety tighten in his chest. The village had been on edge for weeks, ever since they learned that the king's forces might be closing in on them. But this was the first real sign of trouble so close to their borders.
As Leon turned back toward the village, his mind was already racing with plans. If these armed men were indeed looking for Vekara, they needed to be ready. He would have to gather Rourke, Mara, and the rest of the leadership to discuss their next steps. Every moment counted.
But as he walked back through the village gates, something else gnawed at him. Lina had mentioned that the village was supposed to be abandoned, a ruin in the eyes of the outside world. If these men were searching for something, how had they known to come this close to Vekara?
Was it a coincidence? Or had someone—maybe one of the refugees, maybe even Grig—given away more information than they realized?
He couldn't shake the feeling that time was running out, that the fragile peace they had built in Vekara was beginning to crumble. The king's soldiers, mercenaries, brigands—they all seemed to be closing in, and Leon knew that when the storm finally hit, they would need every ounce of strength to survive.
As he made his way back to the center of the village, his mind raced with thoughts of defense, strategy, and survival. The walls needed to be finished faster. The villagers needed more training. And if it came down to a fight, they needed to be ready for it—no matter the cost.
But for now, he would wait for Gorak's report.
Because until he knew exactly what they were up against, every move they made was a gamble. And Leon wasn't one to play with lives lightly.