Frost had gathered in the lower corners of the window glass, where the citadel stone held the cold longest. Beyond the walls, the scrubland had lost the last traces of seasonal color. The grey-brown terrain stretched south in an unbroken horizon until it reached the agricultural zone. Nothing out there moved. Winter’s first hard frosts lay over everything.

Smoke from the industrial district’s foundries rose straight upward in the still air. No wind pushed it aside. Above, the sky carried the flat grey clarity that came with winter. The Scar hung over the citadel’s roofline, unusually visible now that the cold had stripped the haze from the air.

Beorn studied it for a moment, found nothing different, then shifted his attention back to the district below.

He stood at the window instead of the desk. The ledger lay open behind him, turned to the current working page. He reckoned with this winter it has been roughly a year since he had transmigrated to this world. An unexpected anniversary in some form.

The sound of the engines carried faintly through the glass from below. The foundry was running, its rhythm low and steady.

The knock came before he finished his thoughts. Always more work to do.

"Come in."

Heinrich entered carrying documents in three separate sections, the system he used when information needed to be worked through in order. He placed the stack on the near corner of the desk, folded his hands, and waited while Beorn crossed the room and sat.

He then reported, "The preliminary census results arrived from the records office yesterday. With the combined methodology, we finally have a working estimate for the actual population."

"How many?"

"Approximately fifty thousand."

Beorn picked up the quill near the ledge. He wrote the figure in the margin and circled it. A circled number was a confirmed number.

"The previous census was about half that."

"It was."

Heinrich touched the top document. "The total is important, but the distribution alarmed me. Roughly two-thirds of the population is concentrated in the slums and residential district. The workers’ district remains below housing capacity because most mine-rotation workers move through too quickly for the registration to track them. They’re here and they consume resources. Yet administratively, they barely exist."

"And the commercial district?"

Heinrich shifted to the second document. "The commercial district absorbed far more refugees than the projections allowed for. The buildings made for business are housing families instead. The district has effectively become a third residential zone."

Beorn made a note beside the census figure. The district he’d identified during the previous review as suitable for commercial expansion had solved the problem in its own way. It had become more residential, not less.

"How many depend on receiving food from this seat for survival?"

Heinrich gave him the figure.

It was considerably larger than the unemployment records had suggested.

He moved to the second section of documents. "As for the granary, the supplies acquired from the mercenaries takeover operations have increased reserves enough to remove any realistic risk of winter food shortages."

The engine rhythm continued below.

Beorn wrote a single line in the ledger.

"Only for winter. Spring remains the dependency."

"Yes. The agricultural zone is the critical variable."

Heinrich set that page aside.

"The salt recovered during the operations has also proved especially valuable."

Beorn recorded the note and moved on.

Heinrich handled the mine revenue report differently from the others. He laid the page flat at the center of the desk and turned it so the production figures faced Beorn directly.

"First audit report from all three mines. Verified numbers."

Beorn studied the column.

The production figure exceeded every revised estimate they had used since establishing the audit process. Coss’s missing seventy percent had been real. The records confirmed it completely.

He wrote the revenue figure into the ledger. For the first time, a major income figure didn’t require an accompanying qualification.

"The expenses still exceed it."

"Yes."

Heinrich folded his hands again. "The seizure funds are essentially gone. The army, the construction programs, departmental salaries, food procurement before the granary was restocked. Against all of that, the mine income is a substantial improvement. It is still not nearly enough for a balanced account."

Beorn looked at the number, then wrote the expense total beside it and marked the difference.

At least now the difference was measurable. A known problem could be worked on. An estimated one could not.

He noted it and moved farther down the page.

Heinrich advanced to the construction reports. "The final northeastern wall section was completed during the first week of the cold season. Cerdic’s assessment is that the perimeter is structurally sound."

Without looking up, Beorn wrote that the section of the wall was complete.

That solved one problem and created the next. With the wall finished, Cerdic’s crews could move elsewhere.

He added a note about the slums, Cerdic.

The fire in the hearth popped softly.

Heinrich continued the report, "The miners’ quarter paving was completed in late autumn. As for the primary streets in the slums, they are currently under construction. Moving to the industrial district, two of the three new foundry buildings are complete and working. The third should be finished before spring."

Beorn nodded. The boring machine testing had been satisfactory, and since late autumn the equipment has started to be employed through the new foundries.

"The high quarter reform?" He moved on the report.

Heinrich evenly replied, "The north and east pillars are in place. Approximately one-third complete, according to Cerdic."

Beorn glanced briefly toward the window.

The market site lay somewhere beyond that direction, though it wasn’t visible from here. Still, something about the winter skyline felt different. He noticed the change without immediately identifying it.

Then he returned to the report.

"About the idle population."

Heinrich had clearly expected the topic. He folded his hands into the posture he used when the answer required more explanation.

His voice came out with a subtle interest, "The difference between food recipients and registered workers is significantly larger than unemployment records indicate. Part of that comes from mine-rotation labor, part comes from the informal economy in the slums. People are working, but only at subsistence levels, in ways that generate no taxation and leave no administrative record."

The fire crackled quietly.

He continued after a pause, "The industrial expansion has absorbed some of that population. However, everything produced in the foundries goes either to the army or back into production. Weapons. Components. Engine parts. None of it enters ordinary commercial circulation."

He let the implication hang.

"No one in the slums is allowed to buy a..."

"Firearm."

Heinrich nodded, and then rested one hand against the desk.

He started to lay out the information, "The goods being produced aren’t goods the city’s population purchases. The commercial district’s failure is partly a construction issue and partly a supply issue, as there are no civilian goods available for a market to distribute. The revenue issue persists despite the improved mine income because the commercial tax base needed to close it doesn’t exist. Commercial activity requires goods people actually buy and our current production doesn’t meet that requirement."

Throughout the explanation, the quill had continued moving across the margin of the ledger.

Beorn finally looked down.

The sketch from earlier had become something entirely different. Lines spread outward from a central point. Notes marked each branch. Arrows tracked the movement of goods and resources. Somewhere during Heinrich’s analysis, his hand had turned the sketch into a flow diagram.

He hadn’t noticed when it happened.

He set the quill down.

"We will branch the production."

Heinrich looked at the diagram. He couldn’t understand it.

"Toward what?"

Beorn worked it through his mind, "Household goods first. Cauldrons. Hinges. Cutting tools. Barrel fittings. Agricultural equipment for spring planting."

He turned to a fresh page and lifted the quill.

Then started to write the goods one by one, "The foundries have enough capacity to support civilian production alongside military output. We’ve already build up an enough stockpile to arm the majority of the army, and there is little need to produce replacements without an ongoing conflict."

"I’m afraid only household goods won’t amount to much."

"Correct. I have some items I wish to introduce to the market."

He wrote the first line.

"If successful, Ashmark will have its own unique industry and goods."

He continued writing. "The high quarter market becomes the commercial hub when it’s finished. Civilian goods move through it, money moves through it. Those that lack a salary to participate in the economy may either join the army or the industrial district workforce."

Before answering, Heinrich set down his own quill. Beorn could practically see him sorting the implementation in his head.

He slowly nodded, "The civilian production line would require scheduling adjustments in the new foundries. But the capacity exists."

Beorn tapped the quill twice against the ledger, "Talk to Wynn. Use the secondary furnaces when military production isn’t needed. He’ll understand the model."

"I’ll have a scheduling draft prepared before the end of the week."

He gathered the documents and left.

The quill continued moving across the fresh page.

A list was taking form.

Beside the flow diagram, near the point where the production branches split apart, a single word sat next to a question mark. He must have written it sometime during Heinrich’s report.

The engines continued their steady rhythm from the industrial district below.

The frost remained fixed in the corners of the glass.

The Scar remained exactly where it had always been.