The afternoon filled, then gradually emptied again.
The three remaining guard positions disappeared from the list faster than Beorn expected.
Each man introduced himself without preamble. Beorn ran them through the same sequence of questions he had used on Godric. None of them asked the question Godric had asked. That absence told him something.
What they did have was physical presence, basic training, and a willingness to accept eight a month, paid reliably. That was enough. He hired all three and recorded their names beside a running column of figures that had begun to take the form of something real.
The other open roles filled more gradually.
A second runner appeared, followed by a woman who had previously kept records for a salt merchant until the merchant's contract changed into something she could no longer remain part of.
By the time Aestrith returned from the corridor with the next name, Beorn had already filled a page and a half with notes with the quill. The charcoal had worn down to a narrow point that was becoming difficult to hold.
He had been dragging it across the margin between interviews without consciously focusing on it, producing short marks. They had a direction to them, even where they failed to close.
He replaced the worn piece with a fresh one and turned to the next page.
"Lewin," Aestrith said.
She stepped aside from the doorway.
Lewin entered and stopped a few steps inside. Something about how he stood was hard to place. He was neither relaxed nor openly guarded.
His feet were set for quick movement, nothing locked into place. He was ready without showing it. His hands remained at his sides.
His coat was the familiar slums coat, maintained carefully despite its age.
He met Beorn's eyes and waited.
"You came," Beorn said.
"I said I'd think about it." Lewin shifted slightly, settling his stance. "I thought about it."
"Sit down." Beorn indicated the chair.
Lewin sat. His attention moved briefly over the desk, the pages of notes, and the piece still moving in Beorn's hand even though Beorn appeared to be concentrating on the conversation.
Then his gaze returned to Beorn.
The room had cooled since morning. Through the corridor outside, something moved briefly and faded.
"The position available right now is guard work," Beorn said. "Citadel security. Day hours, exactly like the notice stated. You'd be back by evening."
"I know." Lewin didn't sound defensive. "Before I came, I asked around about the position."
Beorn paused. The charcoal stopped moving for a moment.
"Who did you ask?"
"A man near the south gate. He'd heard someone from the citadel had been in the slums speaking to people." Lewin maintained eye contact. "I try not to walk into something without knowing what it is."
It resumed its steady motion.
"And what did he tell you?"
"He said the prince arrived this week and started hiring immediately. He also said the last representative didn't hire anyone, mostly because they didn't stay long enough to bother."
Lewin paused briefly.
"He also mentioned that whoever is currently running the citadel turned some people away because they weren't on a list." Another short pause. "He thought that detail mattered."
Beorn studied him. The room was still for a moment.
"You have work experience," Beorn said eventually. "What kind."
"Mostly odd jobs," Lewin said. "Construction, hauling, sometimes helping at the eastern market stalls when the season is busy."
He adjusted slightly in the chair.
"I can handle myself if that's the concern."
"How did the knuckles happen."
Lewin glanced down at his right hand. The healed split along the outer line of the knuckle remained visible.
"Three months ago. There was a disagreement near the south entrance to the slums about whether someone's turf covered the building my mother lives in." He met Beorn's gaze. "It doesn't anymore."
"Were you ever employed through any of the city's larger operations. The warehouse district, the mine crews, Coss's supply network."
Lewin's expression remained neutral, but he waited a moment before answering.
"Close to some of it. I've moved goods for contractors who worked inside Coss's network. Never directly for his organization."
He met Beorn's gaze steadily.
"I made sure there was a difference."
"Why."
"Because the people who go in directly don't always get out again." His tone remained plain. There was no attempt to dramatize the point. "I have people who depend on me coming home."
Beorn wrote that down. The mark beside the note was a single diagonal line.
"Your sister. Age?"
"Fifteen. When I can't bring enough food she helps the woman downstairs in exchange for meals. She's capable."
He paused.
"She shouldn't need to be."
"And your mother."
" She manages most things herself. The building still has to stay warm and the food still has to arrive." His palms rested on his knees. "The numbers are tight. That's why I'm here."
"Eight silver a month," Beorn said. "Paid monthly, without delay. Day hours only. The position answers to this office and nobody else."
Lewin watched him closely.
"I understand what that probably sounds like," Beorn continued. "I also know what the garrison has actually been paying." He kept his voice calm. "What I'm telling you is how the position works."
"Different how."
"The pay arrives. Every month. On the day it's supposed to."
Beorn didn't break eye contact.
"I'm not asking you to take that on faith. I'm telling you how it runs."
Lewin took a moment to think through the claim. The room had gone quiet as the day wound down.
Outside the window the light had moved lower. The shadows across the floor had lengthened since the morning interviews began.
"I'll take it," he said.
He said it with the same directness he had used for everything else.
Beorn wrote Lewin's name into the column and reviewed the list briefly. Aestrith's page was down to confirmed names and blank lines. Most of it was in place.
He glanced up.
"Tomorrow morning," Beorn said. "Godric will be here. Work with him until you understand the building."
Lewin stood. His eyes passed once more over the desk, the margins filled with lines, the growing stack of documents.
Then he turned and walked out.
Aestrith closed the door behind him.
"That completes the list," she said. She was already reviewing the page she carried, verifying the remaining entries. "Everyone is accounted for."
Beorn set it down and examined the page in front of him. The marks formed the outline of a proper household.
Guards, runners, staff. Enough to operate.
He leaned back and closed the ledger.
"Good."
Aestrith folded her sheet of paper and slipped it into her coat. She moved toward the window, which was where she usually went when she finished something and preferred not to draw attention to the transition.
Outside, the city was approaching evening. Market stalls would soon close. The warehouse district would go still. Other sections of the city would begin their night routines.
The knock came while she was still standing there.
It was a light knock. The sound suggested someone uncertain whether knocking was the correct choice but deciding to try anyway.
Beorn looked toward the door.
"Come in."
The girl who entered appeared to be fourteen, possibly younger.
Her clothing had been selected carefully. She had clearly chosen the cleanest things available to her. Her hair had been tied back carefully.
She remained in the doorway for a moment, taking the room in.
Then she stepped forward and stopped a few feet inside.
She studied Beorn first, then Aestrith by the window, then came back to Beorn.
"I heard you were hiring," she said.
Her voice was firm.
Beorn studied her. He did not look toward Aestrith.
"Sit down."
She sat. Her fingers folded into her lap and stayed there.
"What's your name," he asked.
"Tam."
"How old are you, Tam."
"Fourteen."
He wrote that down. The quill moved along the margin again.
"Who do you live with."
"My sister." She matched his gaze. "Only my sister. Our parents died when I was nine. She's been working since then."
"How old is she."
"Nineteen."
"What kind of work does she do."
"Mending and knitting. She's very good at it. There's enough work between the slums and the residential district that we get by."
She paused briefly.
"We were getting by. Two months ago the building increased the rent. Since then it's been harder."
Beorn watched her carefully. She had the expression of someone who had come prepared to be told no.
"Why did you come yourself," he asked. "Why didn't your sister come."
"She has a commission that must be finished tomorrow. Missing the day would cost her the work."
Tam spoke plainly.
"I can afford to miss a day."
Aestrith had not moved from the window. She was watching the exchange.
"What can you do," Beorn asked.
Tam considered the question honestly.
"I can carry things and run messages. I know how to clean properly. I can read and write."
She paused.
"My sister taught me. She said it was important."
"She was correct." Beorn added another note. "Have you worked before."
"I help inside the building where we live. The woman on the first floor is old, and I clean for her in exchange for some of her food."
She glanced briefly down before looking back up.
"I know that's not official work."
"It counts," Beorn said.
Something in her expression changed for a moment, then cleared.
"The position available is house-hand," he said. "Cleaning, carrying messages, and whatever tasks come up that don't fit elsewhere."
"The work itself isn't complicated, but there's plenty of it."
He looked directly at her.
"Day hours. You return home each evening."
She nodded once.
"My sister needs to know I'm home every evening."
"You would be." Beorn looked at her. "The pay is four silver a month. The first payment arrives at the end of the first month if you begin this week."
She went still.
Her eyes moved to the middle distance for a moment.
"That's enough," she said finally.
The words came out certain.
"Good." Beorn wrote her name down. "Come tomorrow morning. Ask for Godric at the front gate. He'll be expecting you."
She stood, pushed the chair back carefully, and walked toward the door.
When she reached the threshold she paused and turned back.
"Thank you," she said.
Then she left.
The door closed behind her.
Beorn remained seated with the ledger open in front of him. The column was now complete. Names, positions, pay. A full day's decisions recorded.
His eyes paused briefly on Tam's name at the bottom before he closed it.
Aestrith still stood near the window. Her arms were folded now, and she was looking at the wall rather than outside.
"That's the day," Beorn said.
"Yes," she replied.
Aestrith went out first.
He followed and pulled the door shut behind him.