Drone

15 The Fire Grows.

"Wilbur is a nasty and slimy man," Robin frowned in disgust. Thanks for taking care of Esther. I knew those Rowan boys had brought bruisers into Soutfel, but why would they harass Esther?"

"If they were actually the Rowans' men," Niklas interjected as they lay a board on the sixth stack. Despite being only on the third shift, they were making great progress.

To Niklas' surprise, it wasn't just him and Robin pulling their weight. A handful of other workers began to step up their game and started to produce more. Osred decided to make incentives available, and some top performers were stretching. Perhaps what made the competition in the yard bloom was that under Niklas' counsel, Osred had let the lowest-performing workers go. He had hired new hands to take their place, and the yard was transforming.

"What's Wilbur's problem?" Niklas asked. "He's so arrogant."

Robin sighed. "Rumor is that Wilbur is self-made. A debtbond as a child. He didn't inherit his enterprise but built it from the ground up. As much as I hate the man, he's not lazy, and he's wicked clever."

"He's vain," Niklas said, remembering their first encounter. "He thinks he's better than just about everyone."

"He's a real predator," Robin agreed. "I know my sister is beautiful. But in this case, I wish he had never seen her." Robin looked at Niklas. "He's controlling and has the means to be so."

"What does that mean?" Niklas asked.

"What?" Robin asked.

"You said your sister was beautiful. What's beautiful?"

Robin stopped and eyed Niklas incredulously. "You're serious?"

Niklas furrowed his brow. "Relric isn't my first language!" he complained.

"It means pretty or attractive."

Niklas splayed his hands and shook his head apologetically.

"You're a strange man, Niklas," Robin concluded. Something pleasing to look at, something that draws your attention."

"Oh!" Niklas exclaimed. "The mother's enchantment!" He recalled his previous encounters with Esther and the strange stirrings. "There's a word for it!"

"Strange man," Robbin muttered under his breath as he returned to work.

Someone spat at Niklas' feet as they walked past. The gesture wasn't unexpected. In fact, Niklas was surprised it took this long. Osred's warning was correct. Already, Niklas could feel the distance between him and the other workers, even the diligent ones. They wouldn't speak to him, but they would whisper behind his back.

Niklas could tell that they hated that he was different and that he had additional privileges. They could sense that his purse was heavier than theirs and that Niklas was Osred's favorite.

But it was all part of the plan. Eventually, someone would challenge Niklas, and it was up to him to keep his place. Niklas had walked through this scenario a dozen times in his head, and so he was ready as it came.

"Hey!" Niklas snapped, spinning to recognize Tim stomping past.

At the call, Tim scurried away.

Seriously? That didn't make any sense. Tim was a weasel, a small man. Niklas thought he might have to face off with one of the bigger guys.

Tim scuttled behind two bigger men, smirking at Niklas as he approached.

Of course, now that made sense. There was no way Tim would cross Niklas on his own, but now he had two brutes backing him up.