Willem called the meeting to order, and a scribe took the stage. “Two farms and the guesthouse of one manor were attacked in the predawn hours. Two deaths have been reported thus far, and several more were injured.”
Concerned murmurs spread throughout the crowd. Three attacks in one morning was alarming indeed. Tristam thought back to the day he and his friend Jack had stumbled upon a farm in the midst of a raid. He still remembered the chaos, the fleeing people, the panicked bleats and bays of livestock. Jack had died that day at the hands of the Demon Rider Pashla and her companion.
The scribe finished speaking, and Willem took the stage. “This is the biggest threat that has faced the city since our war with Edlan twenty years ago.” Willem was a convincing speaker when he wanted to be. He spoke with authority, punctuating his points with bold sweeps of his hand. “And our Defense Minister does nothing. The Demon Riders sleep safely in our forest and pillage our fields at their pleasure. What can possibly be your justification for this, Malikel?”
“The Demon Rider threat must be met with caution,” said Malikel from his seat. His voice was level, though Tristam could sense anger just beneath. “I’ve explained this to the Council many times. The Demon Riders are not a threat like Parna or Edlan that we should simply throw our soldiers at them. They refuse to face us in open battle. They know the forest -better than we do, and they’re better at disappearing into its depths. Without a sound strategy, sending our soldiers to meet them would result in far more casualties than we currently suffer.”
“You argue for a good strategy,” said Willem. “Let’s hear it, then.”
“Our best course of action is to focus on defending our vulnerable farms and manors while we prepare our soldiers with new weapons and tactics. The Palace smithies are forging new spears as we speak, and our soldiers are learning new formations for forest combat. We secure our farms first. Then we start driving the Demon Riders back and establishing larger and larger defensible boundaries.”
“And how long before we’d be rid of the barbarians?”
“We’re already training private guard forces around Forge. The majority of our farms could be much better defended within a year.”
“The majority, you say. But the barbarians would still plague our people.”
“If you have a counter proposal,” said Malikel, his voice tight with impatience, “let’s hear it.”
Willem straightened and slowly swept his eyes across the Council. “As Head Councilman, I’m not usually involved in directly planning the city defense, but in trying times, when demands outweigh what our Defense Minister is able to handle, I’m forced to take a more direct approach. I propose a systematic sweep of the forest with our soldiers.”
Tristam frowned. That was a horrible idea. Willem should have known better.
“That’s preposterous,” said Malikel, rising to his feet. “We do not have nearly enough men to do this. It would be sending them to their deaths, one battalion at a time.”
“You’re right, Malikel, that as it stands we do not have enough troops to mount such an attack. But the laws of Forge give the Council authority to expand our defense forces from within the city during times of need.”
Tristam’s head snapped up at these words. Willem couldn’t possibly mean…
“Are you suggesting conscripting soldiers from the city population?” said Malikel.
“Indeed, I am,” said Willem. “Circumstances are dire enough.”