The frontier of Baghatur

 Thomas wasn't sure how to feel about his newest tenant. On one hand, he was a trained knight with a full plate harness and a good head on his shoulders (or at least so it seemed), not to mention he's a Lyon. Normally he'd be willing to let him stay for free, Thomas himself was once a knight of the reserve, he was granted his estate as a reward for his service, and he was more than capable of dealing with any foolish bandit attempting to rob him. But he was getting old, and he had no illusions about bandits being smart, there was always the chance they'd try something. Harold was a large intimidating figure in his armor, and bandits were stupid, not suicidal, they wouldn't challenge a knight in his prime.

 Not only that, it was good for Evelin to interact with nobles her age. It's good practice for when she makes her dream of attending an academy come true. The two of them appeared to be getting along great, and he was glad for that.

 So what's the problem? The problem was that they appeared to be getting along great. It wasn't exactly normal for a member of a powerful noble house to be looking for lodgings near the frontier. His intentions were questionable at best, and it was very possible for him to be someone of impure alignment. And even if he was a good person, there's always the possibility of death. He didn't want Evilin to face grief so soon after Annah…

 Thomas wipes the tears welling up in his eyes and pushes down the bitterness rising in his heart. No, he couldn't protect her forever, she had her own life to live, he could only hope to soften the blow if the time were to come.

 "This is the cabin, it's been unoccupied for a few years so it might need a good cleaning."

 "Thank you, Sir Thomas."

 "Follow me, you can house your horse in the stables." He took a good look at Harold's stallion; it was definitely no riding horse. Too big, too muscular, it also had a raging fire in its eye that could only belong to a warhorse that enjoyed a fight. Yet it seemed to make no attempt to buck off its rider nor did it have temperamental tantrums. The skill of its rider? Or perhaps loyalty to its owner? "He have a name?"

 Harold thought for a moment, he didn't. He'd simply been calling the stallion 'his horse'. Well, better late than never he supposed. "Atlas, His name is Atlas" he decided.

 "When mount and rider become one miracles can be achieved. From its sight alone I can tell that horse will follow you to hell and back, make sure you give it the respect it deserves." Thomas traces his fingers along a scar on the neck of his own horse. For single moment Harold thought he saw a wistful look in the veterans' eye, but it disappeared as quickly as it lasted.

 He definitely had some history with his mare, he supposed that most veteran cavalrymen did. "What's her name?"

 "Charlotte, I've long lost count of how many times she's saved my life. Poor creature, truly unfortunate to have been saddled with a reckless fool like myself. Thankfully she's been able to take it easy for a while now."

 The stables weren't far from his cabin, only a 5-minute walk away. He unsaddled Atlas and gave him hay and an apple, Thomas did the same.

 "Don't you get tired walking around in your harness all day? I'm getting exhausted just looking at you. I assure you my estate is quite safe." Thomas said as they walked back.

 Harold chuckled and shook his head "I've always had excellent stamina, I hardly notice the weight of my armor, even if it's uncomfortable at times."

 Thomas eyes him skeptically before sighing dramatically "That kind of stamina won't last into your 40s, I'd know. Treasure it while you still can"

 Harold only smirks in response.

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 Harold added doing house chores to his quickly growing list of new experiences, thankfully it wasn't so different from maintaining his armor, nor did it smell like burning ant. Always look on the bright side of things, they'd say. Now that he had a proper roof over his head, he had to face his second and main problem: his finances. After his contract with Vannol he had 12 silver, he spent one on the oil he bought from the garrison and he paid 4 silver for his first month's rent. That left him with 7 silver, he had to get himself a lance, that'd likely cost 4 and he had to replenish his travel supplies, which would be another silver out of his coin purse. That left him with just 2 silver, hardly enough for the purchases he had planned.

 First he had to overhaul his cabin, he may have been getting used to rough living, but he refused to sleep in a straw bed that likely hadn't been changed for years. He had to replace the bed, get a proper pillow, refurnish the kitchen (and hopefully learn how to cook while he's at it), decorate, and maybe even establish a reading room to continue his studies. Maybe he could invite Evelin over after he was done.

 On a more militaristic note, he'd have to get Atlas some armor, he wasn't comfortable charging enemies without something to cover his mount. He almost had a heart attack remembering how expensive his own harness was, he definitely wasn't buying plate barding (horse armor) any time soon. Leather would have to do in the short term.

 He was starting to have a headache thinking of his near destitute status, even if his possessions were actually more valuable than what most people would make in a lifetime. But such thoughts never crossed his mind. Managing his purse was much easier when income meant asking father for coin or winning a jousting match.

 He'd have to find work as soon as possible, he'll head into Alanfer tomorrow and see what he can find. Hopefully, there's something worth his time there.