The air had cooled as the sun began to set, and the shadows of the trees cast the last of the day's shade over the camp. Henry stood outside Efan's tent, facing the northeast, watching the sky turn from blue to orange. The capital and castle fortress of the local king, from whom Dareisol was leasing the mine from, was in that direction.

It was the second to the last day of the deadline.

It took two days to send a messenger on horseback to the castle to deliver the message, then the deadline for the kingdom to either terminate the Ashtari mine's lease or send a force to oppress the enemy soldiers, would be a week from arrival.

This was all made clear in the terms that Colonel Arelias, Elka's uncle and the most senior officer on site, and Henry penned. The terms were not much different from a contract, and as Henry assisted in writing it, even so much as to do the rewordings and arrangements himself, he thought it practice for the future.

Ash thought statesmanship was boring, but Henry thought it was quite exhilarating. His siblings had looked at him strangely, he remembered, when he had told them. Even Nera had squinted her eyes a bit.

Henry remembered being surprised at her subtle reaction and asked his mother. Saphira had sighed and said, "just because you are good at it, doesn't mean you have to like it."

But at least now, he was confident in any contracts, agreements, or requests he wrote.

If the local king had a positive answer for them, the messenger would've been sent back early in order to arrive before the deadline.

Colonel Arelias estimated that if the messenger did not return to camp by sunset, then the local king either rejected their terms and refused to act, or played ignorant so as not to offend anyone.

It sounded cautious, but by not answering, he had given his answer.

Dareisol was well known for having a formidable, and large, military. Both army and navy, and such organizations were required for a massive empire that took almost over a third of East Iveria. Though the soldiers stationed at this camp, and other camps like it to protect Dareisol mines, were few in number, they were still part of a formal army unit.

One that was well trained. Despite a surprise raid in the middle of the night, and constant ambushes throughout the forest, Elka's troop only lost one person. The others were injured, but surviving. It was testament to their ability.

The enemy soldiers they'd captured all appeared to be mercenary soldiers, at best. And not particularly good ones. If his aunt were there, Nera would say that they wouldn't even make it into the lower rungs of Semut Mountain.

Even watching them fight, Henry saw that their hand-to-hand close distance combat style was lacking. They seemed to rely on ambushes and long-range weapons to attack and whittle down the strength of an opponent from afar.

If Dairesol were to attack one of their camps, speed would play a large role, as would the element of surprise.

Midnight had circled the enemy camp and mine, taking pains to drag a stick on the ground to draw out a map. This had fascinated Elka. Henry had quickly copied the map on some paper and asked questions to find out what shapes meant.

The more he figured out and marked the map, the more he frowned.

It was expected to find a mining camp with their security's camp adjacent. It was expected that there would be patrols around the perimeter of the mine to prevent someone from sneaking in.

But the layout of the mine camp, with the exception of the shaft against a cliffside, looked more like a prison courtyard. There were guard towers, a wall, and tents where the miners lived. The enemy soldiers had small tents outside the wall and inside, close to the mine shaft entrance, the warehouse, and surrounding the miners' tents.

Why would they need to be there if the mine already had a wall to keep enemies out?

This also meant that when they attacked, the bulk of the fighting would happen outside the mine walls, but there were still enemy soldiers inside. What was the risk of them turning on the miners when things soured? And Henry was sure that for them, it would certainly be sour.

Since he had faith in the Dariesol soldiers, his main concern was with the civilian miners, who were looking more like prisoners the more he learned about them.

Colonel Arelias would lead a separate team to surround the miners, but not attack them. If they were to resist violently, then Henry insisted that they should be contained non-lethally. In order to ensure this, Henry negotiated to join the raids and assist using both his swordsmanship and the array of slips Ash gave him.

The slips were a cover for Naali and Raiju, as while he would not hesitate to use them, he also did not want to advertise that he was a summoner. That would attract more attention than he'd like, and he'd hate to become a crutch.

Though the messenger hadn't returned yet, the teams for the retaliatory raid had long been selected and briefed.

One person was extremely upset to not be part of either team, and that person was Elka.

Her wound was healing well, but she was still injured and not allowed to overuse her leg. This meant no sudden standing, kneeling, squatting, or lunging. It also meant she couldn't ride a horse.

She knew all of this, but had no hesitation in voicing her irritation. She'd tried to claim that she could assist with the less seemingly physically taxiing portion of the raid and deal with the miners. She knew some Ashtari, after all. Henry didn't have the heart to tell her it wasn't enough and that the sentences she'd need to speak were beyond her vocabulary.

Formal greetings and asking how the weather was that day would be useless in the chaos of an army riding into their camp and terrifying them. Besides, Colonel Arelias, the youngest of her father's brothers, had put himself in charge of isolating and capturing the miners.

Having been in the southeastern border for most of his military career, he knew not only Sunan, but also a little Ashtari. More than Elka, at least. It was acknowledged that due to the lack of outside contact, the miners, like Ashstar citizens, would be unlikely to speak Iverian Common.

Henry considered leading that half of the raid, but he would've been more useful fighting the combatants and securing the area.

"Atractas." An old, scratchy voice called out to him. Henry turned his head and saw Colonel Arelias walking towards him with a small, folded piece of paper and a pen in his hands. He, and the rest of the camp, had picked up addressing Henry as Atractas rather than his name or the 'young master' title he was often called. In the entire camp, only Elka called him Henry.

"Colonel." Henry gave him a slight bow of his head.

"How do you say, 'stay where you are, do not move or you will be tied up'?" the Colonel asked with some confusion in his face. "But I don't want it to sound too intimidating; just firm."

There were numerous ways of saying it, and Henry's translation wasn't word for word, but it conveyed the same meaning, and didn't sound too harsh. "That's the most common way of saying it. Don't worry about hierarchical speech; only the nobility and the royal family would concern themselves with it."

Colonel Arelias nodded and wrote down the words, speaking each syllable slowly, as he did. Each syllable was written down phonetically using Dareisol characters.

"Your aunt did a good job teaching you your mother tongue, despite the uncertainty that you'd return again after you fled," he said with an appreciative nod. "I keep telling my children, the more languages the better."

Henry nodded. In a way, the Colonel was right. Nera did do a good job teaching him his native language, but not in the classic types like court Ashtari and literary Ashtari. Nera taught him how to speak the common Ashtari of the people, which the court referred to as 'vulgar Ashtari.'

When Henry had told them to bring the miners to him, Eli had incredulously asked what he would do with so many miners?

Henry had looked him in the eyes and bore his blue-eyed gaze into them as he started speaking Ashtari. "Ashtari is my first language. My family fled during the famine." It was the simplest, and truthful, explanation, but Eli, who Henry was starting to suspect was the dumbest of Elka's brothers, only stood there with a blank expression until it turned to confusion.

Colonel Arelias' eyes had lit up, surprised, but pleased. He asked in broken Ashtari "how old were you when you fled?"

"About thirteen when we crossed the border," Henry replied. He gave the old man a wry smile with some dulled pain in his eyes. "We've not been back since."

Eli had gasped. His brows shot up and his mouth almost dropped as he looked at Henry from the other side of the table. "You're Ashtari?" He had spoken as if Henry had revealed the most shocking thing about him.

Elka's face had heated up with frustration. "I told you he's Ashtari already! I told you several times that Henry speaks Ashtari and Lunapsar, because of his aunt and Ash. You never listen to me!"

And just like that, Henry felt this was no longer his battle, as the two siblings squared off.

"Why would I care about what he speaks?" Eli had asked with an indifferent snort. He crossed his arms over his chest and turned his head away, as if to stress his defiance.

"Because you never know when it could help you!" Both Elka and Colonel Arelias had rebuked Eli's willful ignorance at once.

Colonel Arelias had then let out a heavy, exhausted breath as he raised his hand and rubbed his forehead. "Eli, go to the reflection tent and re-read Gordon's Allied Knowledge. When you find the relevant passage, copy it ten times."

Eli had seemed struck by the punishment. "Why?

Efan had rolled his eyes. "Because you're an idiot."

Under the intense gazes of his older brother and uncle, as well as Elka's glare, Eli had turned red to the tips of his little pointed half-elf ears, and stepped back. He lowered his head and dragged his feet to the tent exit, but grumbled under his breath as he did so.

Henry had waited until he left before turning back to the rest of the table. "As I was saying, I can speak to the miners and ask how they ended up there. If they were forced, I'll ask under what circumstances. As long as it wasn't anything seriously criminal or violent, I'll offer resettlement in West Wind Valley. There is a small community of Ashtari refugees that settled near the border of Ashtar, near the valley."

"If they were forced to be there, that would be ideal," the Colonel had agreed. "But do you have the authority to let them resettle there? The West Wind Valley and its surrounding mountains and interior valleys are under the protection of the West Wind Abbey."

Henry had given him a confident nod. "I have authority," he told them. "My aunt founded the resettlement community."

All those famine victims that his aunt had saved while they were fleeing were all instructed by Nera that if they had nowhere else to go, and were willing to leave Ashtar for some time, they could go to West Wind Valley for assistance.

From what Henry deduced from eyewitness accounts of the Ashtari miners, and Midnight's yes or no questions, it sounded as if the miners were forced to be there.

In Ashtar, so long as the laws hadn't massively changed since they fled, the punishment for severe violent crime that resulted in death. This included murder and treason. Most crimes were minor in the grand scheme of things. The punishment for things like theft, debt, or withholding taxes typically was hard labor or hard labor and a fine.

The less damaging a crime, the lighter the labor and smaller the fine.

Considering Ashtar's near non-existent economy and deepening poverty, Henry would bet money that most of those miners, if they were forced there to do labor, were likely there because they owed money and couldn't pay it back. Basically, they were doing labor to work off debt.

Granted, the duration of labor was dependent on the amount of money owed. Usually, only the person who the debt was under would be sent to pay off their debt with labor.

This didn't explain why Midnight reported there being children present in the mining camp.

The sun set in the horizon, and beside him, Colonel Arelias exhaled slowly. His eyes were also fixed upon the purple horizon, just above the tree line. "If Mario didn't return by now, he won't return by the deadline. It looks like our terms were rejected or ignored." He clicked his tongue and narrowed his eyes. His voice was low and bitter. "Does the local king think we are just talk?"

"Are we marching tomorrow, Colonel?" Henry asked.

The older man turned to look at him. "Can you lead us to the enemy camp?"

Henry glanced upward towards one of the tent posts and the large black raven perched on the top of the pole. "I can."

Colonel Arelias nodded his head, his eyes narrowed. "Then...we march at dawn." He reached out and patted Henry's shoulder before he turned around. The two soldiers standing guard on either side of Efan's tent held open the tent flaps to let him in.

Henry could hear Colonel Arelias giving the order to gather the team leaders as he prepared to give their final orders.

Henry took a deep breath. He walked away from the tent and headed to the one two tents down and across. The material of the tent was a heavy-duty olive-green canvas that had been coated to keep waterproof. Two sides had small windows covered with a layer of fine netting to keep bugs out, but also had another flap that could cover the windows.

Elka tended to keep them closed, as it would require her to stand and walk over to untie or tie up the window flaps. As such, Henry couldn't tell that a lantern was already lit inside.

There was one guard on duty, but Henry stopped just outside the tent flap.

"Elka. It's me. Can I come in?"

"Sure. Watch where you step." Henry raised an arm and moved the tent flap away. Several lanterns had been lit around the narrow tent. Elka didn't do that herself; she likely asked the guard to.

She was confined to either her bed or a chair. This time, she was on her chair with her bandaged leg propped up on a stool with some animal fur on it. She was seated in front of her desk along with a woven basket partially filled with various feathers and a row of arrows. Around the legs of her chair, on the floor, were feather trimmings that fluttered down after she trimmed them.

Her fully fletched arrows were in a row of a half dozen quivers leaning against the side of the table.

Henry raised a brow and nodded, somewhat impressed. "You've been busy."

His girlfriend, or rather unofficial fiancée, didn't bother looking up at him. She let out a small snort as she took sharp scissors and trimmed the shape on feathers already attached to an arrow that was held in place on a little wooden stand.

Elka snorted. "I've been bored."

Henry smiled. "Being bored is better than your wound ripping open and bleeding all over the floor." He walked closer, passing by one of the chairs against the tent wall and picking it up so he could sit closer to her. He placed the chair by the basket of feathers. Without a word, he reached into his bag and took out a similar pair of scissors to begin trimming the larger feathers.

"Did Mario come back?" Elka asked. The camp had three messengers, and it was Mario who drew the short stick and had to be the messenger to the local king. It was an undesirable job, so Henry prepared some food to eat and a few light and instant fire slips for him to use during his short journey.

Henry let out a low breath, but kept his eyes on the feather. "No. The Colonel says that if he didn't get here by now, it means we won't get here by tomorrow."

Elka let out a heavy sigh, lowering her hands on to her lap as she stared blankly in front of her. "Then, you march out?"

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Henry carefully trimmed the feather to the desired size. "We march out," he confirmed.

Elka huffed. "I'm envious."

Henry paused and lifted his head questioningly. "You're envious that we go into battle?"

"You know what I mean." Elka frowned and motioned to her leg. "I'd be able to help if it weren't for this."

Henry sighed. "I'm thankful that this," he said, also motioning to her leg. "Is all it is. Your wound is healing well. Straining it now could lead to complications, which will extend your time bedridden. It's best to just deal with this now and let his heal properly so as not to have problems later."

Though his words made sense, Henry knew it wouldn't really soothe Elka's frustration. She almost glared at her arrows. "I know that, but I still feel that I should be joining you tomorrow."

The corner of his lip curled up as he put aside the trimmed feathers and reached for another. "I didn't see you as a war monger. You can go into battle when your leg is better."

"It's not that I want to go to battle, it's that I want to go to battle with you," Elka stressed. "Specifically, this one. The entire reason you're here, and that you got roped into joining, is because of me." She tossed a completed arrow into a quiver hard.

"I agreed to assist them," Henry told her. "With Ash's slips and my ability to communicate with Ashtari civilian miners, the chances of success are much higher."

"Yes, but you wouldn't be here, in this forest, if I didn't get hurt." Elka threw her arms into the air, as if to remind him where they were.

Henry chuckled and looked at her fondly. "If I told you that's just an excuse, and that I was actually just looking for a reason to come see you, would you believe me?"

Elka snorted and sneered at him, clearly not believing his claim. "With how busy you are? You're not one to do things sporadically. You're a planner."

"A planner who came here as soon as he found out you were hurt," he pointed out. Elka's sun-kissed face flushed and she lowered her eyes. The reddish color reached the tips of her ears.

She snatched an incomplete arrow from the pile and began to adjust it on the press. "Just keep cutting feathers."

Henry chuckled once more. "I can only hope that tomorrow goes smoothly."

Elka nodded. "With you there, I know it will."

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"They're escaping! Seal the surrounding forest!" Efan shouted as he raised his shield to give some cover as an enemy soldier shot at him.

In the early morning hours, when it could technically still be counted at night, a team of twenty-four soldiers set up with another team of twelve that were assigned to wait for an opening and enter the enclosed mining area to get to the miners.

They marched until they reached the edges of the surrounding forest at the base of the mountain. With no light sources of their own, they watched the dozens of torches and campfires flicker in the night as haphazard shacks were built against a shoddy-looking wall.

Unlike the stone and metal wire that fenced off the entrance of the Dareisol-leased mine, the wall here was made of halved trees logged to clear an open space in front of the mine. The trees were buried in the soil, one right beside the other to form a solid wall that curved. Both ends connected to the mountain, and the only way in or out was through a gap in the middle.

The gates were rather flimsy compared to the wall. It was made up of thinner, smaller trees, but it was still a gate, and it had been closed shut. On either side were rows of wooden shacks where the soldiers lived.

Just like Midnight had noted, there were four wooden watch towers that were just a bit higher than the cut tree-fence was. They didn't have a roof, either, but it didn't seem to matter for the archers that were stationed there and defending the mine.

During a break in the shooting, Efan lowered his shield and released a flare into the sky.

"Commander, the soldiers are fleeing everywhere!" one of his men shouted. They were scattering like bugs when one overturned a dead log. "We don't have enough people to surround the forest if they run off into different directions."

The forest was only so big, but they also had only so many people. They still needed to enter the inside of the wall.

"Don't let the troop scatter all at once. Split in two! Half chase, the rest secure the mine!" Efan shouted over the sounds of yelling, screaming, and weapons colliding.

"Commander, watch out!"

Efan heard his subordinate's shouting and turned around. An enemy was rushing towards him, spear in hand.

Efan brought his shield down and seemed to brace himself for impact.

An icy breeze swept past him, and the expected impact did not come.

He opened his eyes and looked around. Less than an arm's length from him, a spear tip was pointed at his chest, but it was covered in a thick layer of frost. The longer Efan looked, the more he realized that the man holding the spear, with his face still twisted with determination, had turned a bluish pallor and was just as frozen as his weapon.

Another cold breeze was felt behind him and he whirled around, only to feel another above him and to the side, one right after the other. Efan managed to focus his attention where the chills were going and found that individual enemy soldiers had been frozen in place, and all of them had been within closing distance of attack to one of his men.

His eyes widened and then he heard it, the deafening rumble of thunder.

A moment later, screams rang out and lightning seemed to appear in the area surrounding them. Dirt and fallen leaves flew into the air, people were thrown back, and there was a faint burned scent in the air.

Efan stood in place, in a daze.

"Clear the way!" Henry shouted from behind the group. His horse neighed and Efan turned around. Henry was rushing forward; his eyes fixed ahead of him as one hand gripped the reins tightly.

Since he wasn't an archer and his specialty was close combat, he was relegated to the back of the unit. When the archers had run out of arrows, then he would come forward.

But things didn't go as planned. Instead of fighting head on, only the archers in the watch towers shot. Everyone else scattered in the wind, and Henry's unit was forced to spread out to curb their escape plans.

"Move out of the way!" Efan shouted. He also took several steps back, and Henry had a clear path to the gates.

The gates had been closed since they arrived in the dark. He could tell from the shadows of the torches against them. The enemies who had been defending the gates had moved to counter the raid, and most of them were either on the ground, frozen, or being captured by Dareisol soldiers.

"Keep it just strong enough to loosen the gates and make the locks useless," Henry instructed in his head. He flung his arm forward, pretending to throw an imaginary slip at the door.

He received an energetic 'yes, Master,' just before a thing stream of lightning flew towards the door. Just before it hit the wood, it seemed to spread out, spreading out its energy to select positions. Raiju aimed for the hinges and the wooden beams that crossed both doors that were used to lock the gate doors from the outside.

The air crackled and then heavy thuds were heard before the hinges gave way and the wooden doors fell to the ground. Henry pulled back the reins and turned around, maintaining a safe distance from the doors in case they fell backwards.

He was right to do so. After landing vertically, they stood in place before the sound of creaking wood seemed to cue the one door to tumble outwards one after the other. The wooden beams were cracked down the center with deep, black marks where the lightning had penetrated.

"March steady!" Colonel Arelias's second unit began marching forward, their horses side by side and four in a row. It was just enough that as they entered the gate, the entrance space was taken up by the horses, forcing anyone who wanted to rush out to think twice.

Henry's attention was on disabling the archers in the watch towers. Raiju sent lightning down on each, sending them exploding the top level off and sending anyone who was on them flying over the edge.

He rounded the outer area to make sure all the enemy soldiers had been captured or dead.

"We're clear here," Efan said with a wave of his arm.

Henry gave him a curt nod and tugged the reins away. He turned back to the gate and could see the row of soldiers on horseback standing by the entrance. They were the only ones still behind the wooden wall.

Henry rode in and saw the chaos within. People were running in circles, clutching their few belongings and children to their chests, while large eyes darted around frantically, as if expecting an enemy to attack from all sides.

There was so much movement, no wonder Colonel Arelias could only sit on his horse, unmoving and with a helpless look on his brow.

"We've told them to calm down, but they won't listen," the Colonel said.

Henry narrowed his eyes. He gave his horse a gentle kick and it took a step forward. Henry took a deep breath. "Stand still! Stand still! Stand still!"

He repeated the words loudly, but clearly. Telling people to calm down when they were running around confused and terrified wouldn't help, so he resorted to the trick he picked up from Nera. When Effie was running around and could get hurt, Nera would yell the command 'walk' to slow her down.

Suddenly stopping could launch Effie forward and cause her to fall, but 'walk' would trigger her to slow down.

Henry could only hope that it would have the desired effect.

The miners heard his voice and slowed down. Most didn't stop moving completely, many had turned towards the gate and saw Henry on top of a bay horse. Unlike the others, he wasn't wearing a Dareisol uniform, but regular clothes. His appearance was confusing.

Henry held up both hands. "Do not panic. We will not hurt you!" He showed that he was unarmed.

When the miners were rushing around and trying to hide, Henry couldn't get a good look at them, as he was preoccupied with getting them to stop, but now that he was able to give them a proper look after they stopped moving, his stomach twisted, and his eyes began to redden.

These were miners?

They were so thin. How could they hold tools? And their clothes were so worn and stained, almost ragged. How could it keep them warm?

For a moment, Henry's vision seemed to overlap with a memory. These miners looked no different from the famine victims he and his family saw when they fled Ashtar. At the time, death seemed to be a shadow on everyone.

It had been over twelve years since he left. Over twelve years.

"Why do Ashtar's people still look like this....?" His voice was quiet and tight, laced with a suffocating, helpless pain.

It was like he remembered. There weren't just adult men, there were women, children, and the elderly, some of whom were still on the backs of their children and prepared to run. All of them looked malnourished with dull skin, sunken faces, and brittle, greasy hair. Their skin was dark and leathery from the sun and hard labor.

It wasn't just the adults. The children were the same.

Henry's heart was squeezed, and he seemed to forget how to breathe.

"-tractas. Atractas!" Colonel Arelias' voice broke through his thoughts. He blinked and shook his head out of his stupor. "Are you all right?" The older man sounded concerned.

Henry swallowed the lump in his throat.

"I'm fine," he said. Now was not the time to get lost in his head. He swung his leg over the back of the horse and dismounted so he could be eye level with the people. He took a deep breath and lifted his arms out on either side of him to show he was unarmed and wasn't going to attack them.

His movements were slow and remained a good distance from the line of miners.

"Be careful," he heard Colonel Arelias tell him.

"Henry took a deep breath. "My name is Henry Atractas. I was born in Ashtar and fled during the Great Famine. Do not be afraid; the soldiers will not hurt you," he told the miners in the common vernacular Ashtari. "Our targets were the soldiers who were attacking our camp. We will not hurt you."

Even though he was telling the truth, and meant not hurting them, he knew that it was useless reassurance to the miners. Just looking at their situation screamed that they were on guard. He didn't expect them to believe him immediately.

As expected, no one answered him. The shivering, hunched crowd looked afraid and ready to try to flee for their lives at any moment. What had brought them here? What happened to them on their journeys?

Henry continued. "Can you tell me where you are from and why you are here?"

The silence stretched on once more. Henry decided to try to offer a trade for answers, but before he could speak, a child started crying from somewhere in the crowd.

His eyes immediately focused on a toddler carried in his mother's arms. The woman was thin, and it was almost surprising to see someone of her size carrying a child. Unfortunately, the child was skin and bones as well.

The woman's frantic eyes turned towards Henry when she realized that he had spotted them. The color drained from her face as she patted her child's back with weak, urgent tapping to try to calm him, but the child continued to cry. With each hoarse wail, the woman looked closer to tears. She was begging her son to stop crying in Ashtari.

Henry looked around. The miners lived in shabby cloth tents and there didn't seem to be anywhere for them to cook or be fed a meal. No long tables, no benches, not even a decent outdoor fire pit. There was no smell of smoke coming up from a stove, ready to cook breakfast.

"When was the last time you've eaten?" Henry asked as he looked around. "You're all so thin. Are they feeding you? How can you do physical labor like this?"

There were tools piled up by the mine, and their clothes were coated in a layer of dirt, so he knew they were working.

He didn't bother to wait for an answer, even if it was silent. He turned his head over his shoulder. "Colonel, have some soldiers prepare whatever tables they can find and put in front of me. I'll bring out some food."

Colonel Atractas waved his arm. "You four," he said, looking at some men behind him. "Get some tables. Try to find large ones."

Four men got off their horses and brought them outside. The soldiers had a better camp than the miners did. They'd likely have tables.

Henry looked back at the stick-like people. "I have proper food. Hold on."

It didn't take long for the soldiers to arrive. Pairs brought tables of varying lengths and heights and lined them up beside each other. When Henry approached to remove items from his bag, he saw the stains on the wood table tops from water and food. His eyes narrowed coldly.

The soldiers were clearly eating well.

As if setting up a buffet, he placed cups and papers made of pressed leaves at one end. They were common disposable plates created in West Wind Valley, and Henry and his family always carried some in case they were eating outside and needed something to pass food. There were pressed spoons, also from West Wind Valley.

Then, the miraculous part began.

Dozens of food boxes that barely squeezed out of Henry's bag were lined in neat rows across the tables. When he removed the lids, everyone was surprised to find that the food was still fresh. Hot food still had steam and cold dishes were chilled.

When he set the food out, he stepped back. He took a page from being a server at his family's tea house and began introducing all the dishes.

"Long grain steamed rice with burnt crusts seasoned with butter and saffron. This is stewed mutton, steamed vegetable rolls, fried potato buns, and roasted chicken." There wasn't a large variation, but there was a lot of each.

Henry had also purposely selected food that was common in Ashtar, and would thus be easily recognizable. In fact, the steamed vegetable rolls were some that he made for himself, as he liked to eat them, but no one else in the family did.

He beckoned them to start, but no one stepped forward. Fear was still in their faces.

Logically, Henry could understand. A foreign army suddenly stormed in with no warning, screams of terror and pain came from beyond the wall, and they were just a bunch of helpless, emaciated miners. Of course, they would be hesitant to move.

Henry stepped forward and grabbed a plate. He began to move along the makeshift buffet, scooping up food to eat. Before he knew it, someone had joined him.

"What's this?" Efan pointed to the dark reddish-brown stew.

"Stewed mutton."

"Spicy?"

"No."

Efan then scooped a good portion on this plate. Efan didn't seem to notice, but Henry saw a few people gasp and almost take a step forward, raising their hands as if they were about to stop Efan from taking too much.

Henry then stood back and began eating to show it wasn't poisoned.

Efan stood beside him and bit into a steamed vegetable roll. His eyes lit up. "What is this? It's delicious!" He then dipped the bit end into the mutton stew liquid. After taking another bite, he nodded, satisfied. "Did your aunt make this?"

Henry swallowed and replied in a dull voice. "I did."

Efan froze. He looked at the vegetable roll, as if it had betrayed him.

"What are you waiting for?" the Colonel called out. "The young man has brought you food. It's clean to eat. Have some." He waved for them to come closer and approach the tables.

"Eat," Henry urged. "Take your time. When you are ready to talk, we can talk."

Along with the food, there were several water skins. Henry had added some tasteless powder to it to help 'regain minerals and hydration,' according to Ash.

Slowly, people began to move forward. The first were some daring men. They got into a line and took small scoops of each, as if afraid that if they took too much, it would kill them. When they started eating and their expressions relaxed, women came forward with children and the elderly.

The children appeared the happiest, almost jumping in line and talking about how the food smelled good. A few that were seated on the ground and began to eat exclaimed that it was the best thing they'd ever eaten.

The adults were not as carefree. They were still under the watchful eyes of the Dareisol soldiers, though Henry had asked for a few of them to leave and take the horses with them, so has to put the miners at ease.

"I'm going to check on the captured soldiers and see if anyone else was captured in the surrounding sweep," Efan said. He unceremoniously handed Henry his empty plate before quickly walking away. Henry looked at the plate and rolled his eyes. He went to a corner and placed the plates on the ground before using one of Ash's instant fire slips.

He turned around and observed the atmosphere around the miners. They were starving, and seemed to be lost in eating. Henry refilled some of the food before taking the risk to walk around the messy clusters of chest high tents. He didn't take out a weapon, but he was well built and looked like he could fight, so while he was eyed warily, no one dared to attack.

A few children who were not aware of the situation didn't understand its severity. All they knew was that there was food and their tummies were full. They began to run around, and though their parents tried to call them back, it was too late.

A child rammed into Henry's leg from the side. Henry's brows shot up, but he immediately bent down to catch the child before he fell. He was well aware of how sturdy he was. How could a starving child stand up against him?

He lifted the child by the arm pits and then carefully put him on the ground as he knelt down. "Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere?" His voice was gentle and attentive on instinct.

The child shook their head, but was frozen in place. Henry reached into his bag and took out a small leather pouch that fit in his hand. He opened it up and took out some dried dates and figs. He gave one to the and then stood up and put one into his mouth. The familiar soft, squishy, and sweet texture filled his mouth. They were his favorites when he was a child. Ash hated the squishy texture, but loved the sweetness. Watching toddler Ash eat dried dates was hilarious, as his face was in a constant battle between delicious flavor and disgusting texture.

The child, watching Henry eat with awe, stuffed the date into his mouth before anyone could stop him.

"Is it sweet?" Henry asked.

"It's sweet!" The little boy beamed with date stuck in his little white teeth. Henry began to walk away, still snacking on dried fruit, but only took a few steps before he realized that several children had begun to follow him.

Henry began to hand them out, telling them one per person. The children lined up, and a few daring ones asked for extra to give to a sibling, parent, or grandparent. Henry gave them more. He then watched as they ran back to their families to share their spoils.

His bag of dried fruit was empty, and Henry shook it into his hand to double check before he put it away.

He saw a group of older miners nearby who had been watching him carefully. He gave them a small bow of his head and spoke in a slightly more respectful Ashtari.

"Elders, is there a representative amongst you with home I can speak to regarding your situation?" he asked.

The older men looked at each for a moment and didn't speak. Henry wondered if it was a mistake to change the form of his speech. Should he have spoken in vulgar Ashtari?

"Where are you from?" Finally, an adult spoke to him. An older man with graying hair stepped forward. He stood up straight, but Ash could see his hands tremble at his side.

"Elder, I was born in Ridua and fled when I was thirteen with my aunt and brother," Henry replied. "Our livelihood was affected by the famine." That was partially true. "We moved around before setting in Carthage Harbor, which is the merchant city right on the isthmus of East and West Iveria."

His answer seemed to raise more questions. "Why are you with Dareisol soldiers?"

"My fiancée is a Dareisol archer who was injured by one of your soldiers, and when I found out, I rushed to see her," Henry replied. He waved a hand to the remaining soldiers within the wall with them. "They needed a translator."

The man opened his mouth to reply, but a younger man cut him off with a frown.

"Those aren't our soldiers! They're just hired guards paid to imprison us here!" the younger man complained at once.

Henry kept his face neutral. "They're not Ashtari soldiers?"

"No, they're just a bunch of goons that the court provided with money and weapons to keep us here," another man replied with a scowl. "The court wouldn't waste real soldiers on us. They're controlled by the Crown Prince."

The corner of Henry's eye twitched. "The Crown Prince? How does he have control over the military? What about the military houses?"

"It's been a long time since you've been to Ashtar, young man," the older man told him with a shake of his head. "It's not the same place. Many military houses were disbanded. Only the few remaining great general houses stand firm. The rest of the military is under the control of the Crown Prince or the Emperor. The Crown Prince hired mercenaries and paid bandits to come under his banner, like those people outside."

"I see..." Henry trailed off. "Are you all...forced to be here?" His eyes darted around to the array of people of different ages.

One man's eyes reddened, and he gave Henry a wry smile. "Under the Crown Prince, an entire family will be sent to do labor if they cannot pay the taxes for their land." He let out a pained laugh. "Young man, no one can afford the taxes. It would be bad enough if they only took our land...but they also sent us here to die."

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