The previous night’s events took their toll on Baylin. He hardly slept after he watched King Rydel take Luana under his wing and start training her. He could hardly believe his eyes when he watched a tiny ball of light materialize in the palm of her hand.
However, there was no time to think on those things. At present, he sat in the war room discussing the battle strategies Grasmere could put into play based on the new information of Kardell being involved in the invasion.
“General Baltair, what do you have to report?” asked Baylin.
“Last night we sent birds to both Ranhold and Strathen, calling for aid,” said the general. “We should know soon enough if they are with us.”
“That’s not good enough,” boomed Baylin. “Send envoys at once! There is not a moment to waste. They are either with us or against us; they won’t get the chance to weigh their options.”
“Quite right.” General Baltair stood and bowed. “Your Grace.” He then walked from the room to fulfill Baylin’s command.
“What news have we of the troll hordes?” Baylin asked, pulling out a map. “After the battle in Mirstone, many were slaughtered. However, I fear we have missed something. A passage, a path of escape many of them may have taken.”
“There have been very little sign of trolls in Grasmere, Your Grace,” said General Cormag. “A few random cases of small clusters, but nothing to cause concern. I’m certain your triumph at Mirstone caused their numbers to dwindle. They are no longer a real danger to us.”
“We would be naïve to think them not a threat anymore,” Ferric said. “They are not intelligent creatures, but they are skilled at hiding. The mountain ranges and forests have given them plenty of chance to evade us over the years.”
“Ferric is right,” said another general. “The battle at Mirstone showed us just how thick their numbers had become. Was it not just a few months before their invasion when we thought their numbers were so limited?”
“With war upon us, we cannot afford the men to scout out the troll hordes,” said General Cormag. “There is no proof of the trolls being a threat. What few survived are busy licking their wounds and scrounging around in rock and dirt for food. Our forces must concentrate on Mirstone and Kardell.”
“Perhaps,” Baylin said. “However, if Mirstone attacks from the west and Kardell from the south, we would be ripe for the picking should the trolls decide to hit us from the mountains of the north and forests of the east. We would be surrounded.
“What options do we have, Your Grace?” asked General Cormag.
“Our duty is to the people. We must make sure they are safe so we can concentrate our efforts on keeping any threats that present themselves back,” Baylin said.
“What are your thoughts?” whispered Ferric, looking at the map in front of the Prince.
“The safest place for the people of Grasmere is inside the castle,” Baylin said.
“Inside the castle?” called out several of the other generals.
“Yes,” Baylin barked. “These people rely on us to protect them. They serve the Kingdom knowing their King will keep them safe. How can we sit here in the castle out of harm’s way while this threat is so close?”
“But, Your Grace,” said General Cormag, “certainly you can see that all the people of the Kingdom will not fit comfortably in the castle.”
“No, you are right, I imagine none of us will be comfortable,” Baylin sighed.
The general smiled to himself and sat back in his chair, basking in his small victory.
“However, I’m less worried about their comfort than I am about their lives,” Baylin said. “We will make immediate preparations to have everyone in the Kingdom moved to the tunnels within the mountain.”
The room erupted with mumbles and whispers.
“Enough!” boomed Baylin, slamming his fist down on the large oak table. “I have given you my decision and it will be done!” He looked at his friend Ferric for reassurance.
“Your Grace,” Ferric stood. “It would honor me if you would allow me to immediately start the preparations.”
“Yes, very good,” Baylin said, his heart swelling with thanks and pride. “Please take as many of the housemaids and stewards as you need to get things moving.”
Ferric bowed and hurried from the room with several stewards in tow.
“Your Grace,” said General Cormag. “I certainly mean no disrespect. I have served under your father a large portion of my life. I would hope I could be some help to you in your reign. However, I’m afraid there is something we must address with this course of action.”
“What, Cormag?” Baylin snarled, infuriated that the old man continued to question his judgement.
“The harvest,” the general said. “If all the villagers are residing in the castle, who will tend to the harvest? Without it, we will all starve before winter begins. We will already have to ration without our usual shipments of fruits and nuts from Mirstone and Kardell.”
“And if Ranhold or Strathen side with Mirstone, we will be in even more trouble,” voiced another general.
The harvest. Baylin grimaced, staring at a map of the Kingdom. I didn’t think of that. Grasmere was the northernmost Kingdom in Wintervale and had extremely harsh winters. They relied, not only on their own harvest, but the supplies they received from the other four Kingdoms in the realm.
“We will have to push the harvest up,” Baylin said. “We will bring in all the villagers who are unessential to the harvest. The elderly. Mothers with young children. Everyone else will help in the fields.”
For the first time that evening the room grew quiet. Baylin contemplated the upcoming celebration his mother was preparing for Luana and the baby. He knew all within the Kingdom were looking forward to it. We must cancel the celebration. That food is far too precious now.
Baylin turned to a steward who was standing by the door, awaiting orders. “Young man, go to see Queen Valasca at once. Tell her I have commanded the celebration of the heir to be canceled. Tell her all the food and provisions that will not spoil are to be stored. Perishables are to go to feed the families who will be coming into the castle shortly.”
“Your Grace.” The boy bowed and left the room.
The Prince turned back to the room, the men awaiting his command. “In addition to the villagers, all working within the castle will also be put to work in the fields. If they’re not busy defending the Kingdom, they will be working the harvest.”
“Your Grace!” cried General Cormag. “You can’t possibly mean to have the stewards, handmaids and kitchen staff leave their duties and work the fields.”
“That’s exactly what I mean,” said Baylin. “The fate of the entire Kingdom now relies on those willing to fight to live.”