Piece by piece, Leonard's halting account exposed the problem.

The desert bandits were an established gang, mostly Fire-Worshippers, who had preyed upon the Jordanian wastes for years. They knew every spring and oasis, raided whenever the border patrols moved elsewhere, and vanished before pursuit could gather. Villages already near starvation surrendered coin, livestock, and grain to them. Passing merchants and poorly guarded noble estates also fell prey when opportunity arose. Even Count Reynald of Kerak had failed to destroy them.

Leonard had set out that morning with five soldiers for a prosperous village under Montréal's jurisdiction. Its large horse market belonged, behind the scenes, to Countess Stephanie—Reynald's wife, the Iron Rose known as the Knight in Skirts. Horses seized from Ayyubid caravans and defeated Bedouin tribes sometimes appeared there for sale. The bandits struck almost as soon as Leonard crossed into Montréal's territory.

Lothar's brow tightened. "Leonard, you're the only one who came back? How many did we lose?"

Leonard threw himself to his knees, his face twisted with misery. "My lord, we lost no one. When they learned we were your soldiers, they took the money and left."

Relief and insult warred within Lothar. His men had survived, but in an age when life was cheap, the bandits had not even considered them worth killing.

"So Montréal is also Count Reynald's fief. Did Reynald's people have anything to say about a robbery that happened on his own land?"

Reynald ranked among the realm's most powerful lords, though Lothar had scarcely dealt with him. Since Godfrey pushed Lothar onto the political stage, outsiders had branded him a King's party man and Godfrey's standard-bearer.

Leonard hurried to answer: "My lord, I went to Countess Stephanie herself. She was once this land's sole ruler. Count Reynald only gained his title through his marriage to her."

Lothar drummed his fingers against the desk. "Get to the point, Leonard. I do not need a lesson on how the former Prince of Antioch lost his throne and climbed back through a marriage bed."

Leonard quailed. "Countess Stephanie did not receive me. One of her knights told me they'd be organizing a new expedition against the bandits soon. He told me to go home and wait."

"Wait?"

Lothar's voice dripped contempt.

As a neighboring lord, the Countess of Oultrejourdain owed him the usual courtesies: a visit, a dinner invitation, or at least formal acknowledgment. Three days after Lothar's arrival, nothing had come. Either Stephanie considered him beneath notice or Reynald had chosen hostility. The latter seemed more likely.

Balian had crushed Guy in the duel. The King's party and the Queen's party were now openly antagonistic. And Lothar had planted his banner squarely with the King's.

"I don't have the patience to 'wait.'"

Years of successful raiding must have filled the bandits' lair with plunder. Finding it could staunch Jogelsburg's bleeding treasury.

And there was the horse problem. Without horses, he couldn't train Winged Hussars even if he had the coin. He was aiming for at least twenty as quickly as possible: enough to form a real striking force.

Hunting them required cavalry. Lothar possessed three newly trained Winged Hussars, Hans, and himself—five riders in all. Five men could neither find desert phantoms in a trackless waste nor defeat them once found.

If the bandits were easy to deal with, Reynald would have crushed them years ago.

"Leonard, do you think these bandits have connections among my own villagers? Someone feeding them information? Or perhaps some of them have joined the band outright?"

He suspected a leak inside his own lands.

Leonard's face went white with terror. "Heavenly Father above — I swear, my lord, my men and I have no dealings with those bandits! They are shameful infidels! If we dared conspire with them to steal from you, we would burn in hell, tormented by devils for ten thousand years!"

Lothar shook his head. "I'm not talking about you. I mean the villagers. Especially that half-infidel village. Someone there may be in league with them."

Leonard sagged with relief. "Yes, my lord. I have always suspected them. You show those ungrateful wretches mercy and lighten their taxes, and they repay you with treachery. They deserve the rope."

Lothar gave a cold smile. "Or perhaps — they showed their gratitude precisely by letting you live. If the bandits are bold enough to offend Count Reynald, why would they fear a minor baron of Jogelsburg? They didn't spare your lives out of charity."

The System chimed: Milestone completed — Model Fief. Your fief now has at least two thousand acres of land and over two hundred people living above subsistence.

Advanced Milestone unlocked: Model Territory — Your territory has at least one thousand people living above subsistence and over two hundred living in comfort.

You have received: Three-Star Special Item — Statue of the Archangel. When placed within your territory, this statue provides a small increase in all residents' loyalty toward you and a small decrease in their disposition toward your enemies.

Lothar understood. Removing the punitive tax on the Fire-Worshippers had improved their lives just enough to push more than two hundred people above subsistence. The two thousand acres meant little; barren sand was the one thing this land possessed in abundance. Though Jogelsburg held only six villages, its territory might rival some Western European counties in area.

"So it's still that bad. Less than one in five people here have enough to eat."

Subsistence: the bare minimum to survive. He drummed his fingers on the desk. "I can't cut taxes any further. I need to open new revenue streams. And the bandits who keep shaking down my villagers, they need to be dealt with."

If he could not run the bandits down, he would lure them within reach.

He looked down at Leonard, still kneeling on the floor. "Leonard, you lost the coin I entrusted to you for the purchase of warhorses. How will you answer for this failure?"

Leonard was trembling so hard his words came out through sobs. "Whatever punishment you see fit, my lord. Only — I beg you — forgive my sins when I am dead. Let this faithful believer ascend to the Kingdom of Heaven."

Lothar rose to his feet and looked down at the man. "Do you know what disappointed me most? You didn't fight. You watched my wealth be taken and did nothing. That, I cannot forgive."

Leonard's voice cracked. "They were too many, my lord. We had no chance. I swear, we are no betrayers, no Judases. We only —"

"Enough, Leonard. I'll give you a chance to redeem yourself. Whether you survive depends on how well you take it."

Privately, Lothar knew Leonard was hardly to blame. Had the six men fought, they would have died and the coin would still have been lost.

But a lord's rewards and punishments had to be clear. After demanding accountability, Lothar could not simply wave the failure aside.