Titus climbed the stone watchtower he had claimed at the edge of Hightree. He set his warhammer against the wall and scanned the tree line. Somewhere out there, a beast was hunting his town. No one else would stand against it. That was why he meant to build an order here, a sworn shield for people who had none. Horus joined him at the parapet, crossbow slung, white coat dusted with road grit. "Found a dog split in two by the south fence," he said. "Folks are packing wagons. They don't think anyone's coming." Titus gripped the stone. "Then we end it tonight." They baited the clearing below with the dog's remains and waited. The grey wolf came at moonrise, bigger than any wolf had a right to be, eyes catching torchlight like coins. Titus dropped from the tower door and met it in the open. The hammer came down once, twice. The spike found bone. The beast shuddered and went still. Horus lowered his crossbow, hands shaking. "They'll see this in the morning." Titus stared at the carcass, breath steady. The predator was dead. But killing the beast had not killed the fear, and now the town would know his name — and so would the Lord Mayor, who had not asked him to lift a finger.

The wolf was dead, but the town was still afraid. Titus called a meeting at first light and gathered them inside the stone barracks he had claimed for command. Lothar limped in, bruised from the night before, and took a seat. Horus followed, quiet as ever. The round table was built for ten. Three chairs filled. Titus rested his hammer against the wood and looked around. "This table is too empty," he said. Horus leaned forward. "Send me back to our home in the wood. I can bring my younger brothers. They'll come if I ask." Titus nodded once. "Take a couple of men. I'll ride out too — I have a friend a day and a half from here. Five with me." He turned to Lothar. "You hold this place while we're gone." Lothar met his eyes. "I'll keep the door shut. That's about all I can promise today." By noon the barracks emptied. Titus tightened his straps, mounted, and rode out with five at his back. The table was still too empty — but for the first time, chairs were being sought, not just counted.