Chapter 11: The Lord’s Truth

The next morning, a knock came at Taren’s door.

He blinked awake, still drowsy from his day of rest. Opening the door, he found a uniformed servant standing there.

“Lord Kestrel requests your presence,” the man said curtly.

Taren’s stomach tightened. “Me? Why?”

“He didn’t say,” the servant replied, before adding with a faint smirk, “You’d best come quickly.”

Soon, Taren stood inside Lord Kestrel’s manor a spacious but unpretentious hall lined with bookshelves and maps of the territory. It was far grander than anything he’d ever seen.

Lord Kestrel was seated by a large oak desk, reviewing documents. He glanced up, gesturing Taren forward.

“Come in, lad. Close the door.”

Taren obeyed nervously, his hands fidgeting at his sides.

“Do you know why you’re here?” Kestrel asked, folding his hands.

Taren swallowed. “No, my lord.”

Kestrel studied him for a moment, then leaned forward slightly.

“I’ve been watching you,” he said calmly.

Taren froze. “W-watching me?”

“Three nights,” Kestrel continued. “I saw the lights in the distance. Followed them. And there it was your… machine.”

Taren’s heart pounded. His breath caught.

Kestrel’s gaze was sharp but not hostile. “I saw you at its controls, working the roads with precision my laborers could never match. Tell me honestly, Taren… what is that thing?”

Taren stepped back instinctively, his mind racing. He’d been so careful hiding GS516M in the hills, working at night, never leaving evidence.

“I” he stammered. “It’s not… It’s not what it looks like!”

Kestrel raised a hand, stopping him. “Calm yourself. I’m not here to seize it. If that were my intention, I’d have sent soldiers.”.

“I only wish to understand,” Kestrel continued. “That machine whatever it is has done more for Crofton’s roads in a week than my crews could in months. You’ve saved this village, Taren. And I won’t deny what I saw.”

Taren hesitated, staring at the floor. “It’s… hard to explain,” he admitted softly.

Kestrel nodded slowly. “Then don’t. I won’t pry beyond what you’re ready to tell. But hear me on this, boy secrets are heavy things to carry alone.”

He stood, walking over to a large map pinned on the wall markings of roads and trade routes crisscrossing the region.

“You see this?” Kestrel gestured to a jagged red line. “These roads connect Crofton to the capital. After last winter’s storms, they’ve fallen into disrepair. My men can’t keep pace with the damage. And trade suffers for it.”

He turned, his expression serious but calm. “With your skill… and that machine… you could change everything.”

Taren’s hands clenched. “You… want me to use GS” He caught himself mid-word, “…to use it openly?”

Kestrel chuckled softly. “Not yet. I know the look of someone guarding something precious. I won’t push you into the open before you’re ready. But I would have you work with me, Taren. Not in shadows. Not alone.”

Taren blinked at him. “Why? Why trust me?”

Kestrel gave a faint smile. “Because I’ve seen enough of men to know when one’s heart is in the right place. You repaired those roads without fanfare, without pay. That speaks louder than any oath.”