“There was a solid path in from the other side; my father’s builders used that, then cut it away afterwards and put in a bridge that could be brought down quickly, as well as the drawbridge,” Maugis said, as they resumed their walk. “My sire always did have a good eye for ground.”

“Water?” Ingolf asked, and Maugis nodded respectfully.

“You do see the essentials, my lord Vogeler. The rock is basalt, but there’s limestone under it. Water drains down from the mountains through the strata and breaks out as springs there, at the base, plenty even in high summer like this. We run the town’s water in from there through pipes, and there are deep tube wells and reservoirs under the keep. And we use chambers in the rock for bulk storage after the harvest . . . a bit cumbersome, but it means there’s a four-year supply there at any one time.”

Maugis smiled, a hard expression. “And besides getting away from the Lord Protector—quite true, by the way—that is a reason why my father picked this place for his stronghold. A major one. He told me he was looking carefully all the time the Association was pacifying these lands. Most of the poor harried starved wretches welcomed overlords with real weapons who could give them peace to plow and plant.”

Light wagons and packtrains were heading upslope; the jagged peaks of the Blue Mountains lay dreaming and purple there to the eastward. Some of them bore the goods he’d seen coming out of the manor, others bundles of weaponry or farm tools or things less readily identifiable, still others household furnishings more humble than the baron’s.

“Not all going to the castle,” Ingolf said; it wasn’t a question.

He estimated that the tall stronghold could be held securely by about two hundred men at a pinch, and three or four hundred would be ample. If they had their families along, it would be pretty tight quarters. Build small and high was a good rule for a fort, and that one was high and no mistake. Ingolf couldn’t think of any way to storm it at all, offhand, as long as the garrison stayed alert. Even getting close to it would be dangerous, given the vantage it provided for catapult fire, and shooting back would be a joke with that elevation.

“No, not even most is going to the castle. The mountains were another reason my father took seisin of this grant, and not just for the water and timber, though that’s why my manors are all in the foothills. There are caves up there, and old buildings from before the Change—ranger cabins, and so forth.”

“Hmmm.” Ingolf scratched at his beard. “And you’ve been working at them since your father’s day?”