Read Chapter 13: Winter Teeth

Winter turned northern France into mud, ice, and hunger.

The Concord raised prices again.

Martin knew because Chainbreak's market records showed it. Rye that had cost four deniers in summer cost ten by January. In some towns, twelve.

The Free Hounds began raiding Concord shipments.

Martin called it requisition.

Will Hobb called it theft with better handwriting.

They struck only identified depots and convoys, taking part of the grain and leaving receipts stamped with the broken chain.

The receipts promised repayment “when the Concord ceases unlawful restriction of food.”

Nobody expected them to be honoured.

The raids made Martin popular among villagers and notorious among merchants. Songs appeared. Most were terrible.

One described him as a nobleman disguised as a common soldier.

Martin paid the singer to stop.

The Concord responded with violence.

A village that had sold supplies to Chainbreak was burned by masked riders. Two children died in a loft.

Another village found its mill destroyed.

The message was clear: supporting the Free Hounds would cost more than hunger.

Martin wanted to retaliate immediately.

Ysabeau stopped him.

“If you burn Marconne's manor, what changes?”

“He loses a manor.”

“He owns seven.”

“Then I burn seven.”

“And become what he says you are.”

Martin hated her for being right.

Instead, he changed strategy.

They began escorting millstones.

The Concord controlled food not only by owning grain but by controlling where it could be milled. Free Hound patrols protected independent mills, repaired roads, and moved grain in small loads difficult to intercept.

Brother Matthieu organised written passes recognised by villages across the region. Merchants who accepted fair-price limits received Free Hound protection.

Within three months, a shadow market existed beyond Concord control.

That made the alliance truly afraid.

The first assassination attempt came in February.

A cook added monkshood to Martin's stew.

Will Hobb ate from the bowl first and nearly died.

The cook confessed under questioning that a priest had paid him.

Matthieu investigated and found the priest was no priest at all.

The second attempt used a crossbow from a bell tower.

Martin survived because the shooter misjudged wind.

The bolt struck Jehan Leclerc in the shoulder.

The third attempt was political.

A French royal officer arrived with fifty men and a sealed pardon.

The Crown, he announced, would recognise the Free Hounds as lawful troops if Martin entered royal service immediately.

The offer was generous.

Too generous.

“What is the first assignment?” Martin asked.

“Seize illegal grain held by rebellious merchants near Abbeville.”

Matthieu checked the names.

They were independent traders competing with the Concord.

Martin returned the pardon unopened.

The officer's face hardened.

“You refuse the king?”

“I refuse your list.”

“You are a subject of France.”

“I was a subject when your tax men took seed grain too.”

The officer lowered his voice. “There are men at court who could erase your crimes.”

“And men who profit from them.”

For one heartbeat, the officer looked frightened.

That told Martin more than any confession.

The Concord reached higher than Marconne.

Perhaps as high as Count Amaury de Rochefort.

Perhaps higher still.

The winter raids forced the Free Hounds to define what counted as a legitimate target. It was harder than Martin expected. Concord grain sometimes belonged partly to innocent investors. A warehouse might contain church tithes beside speculative stock. Wagoners were often hired labourers with no knowledge of the cargo's ownership.

Martin created another rule: records before sacks.

Whenever possible, raiders seized account books first, identified ownership, and left enough food for local obligations. This slowed operations and annoyed fighters who preferred simple plunder.

“Books do not fill bellies,” one spearman complained.

“They tell us whose belly we are emptying,” Matthieu replied.

During a raid near Saint-Pol, the distinction saved an abbey from losing its winter tithe. The same ledger exposed a merchant who had hidden private stock under the abbey's seal. Word spread among clergy. Monasteries that once regarded the Free Hounds as brigands began quietly sharing inventories.

Information became a weapon sharper than Martin understood when he first carried Hugues's quarrel bag.

It also created danger. Men who knew names became targets. Matthieu stopped travelling alone. Ysabeau changed routes without warning. Copies of important records were stored in different villages.

Martin sometimes woke at night imagining fire consuming Chainbreak and every page within it.

He had spent his early life trusting walls.

Now he trusted duplication.