Release That Witch

"Mr. Hull," Seeing the kamon of the Honeysuckle Family, someone replied, "we're talking about the Lord of Border Town. He wants to seize the properties that the nobles in the stronghold leave in the town."     

"Just call me Petrov. What's it exactly about him?"     

"Let me explain it to Mr. Petrov." Simon came up to him with a half-fawning smile. "The truth is, we live in Border Town in peacetime on the duke's order to manage the North Slope Mine for him. Every winter, we take our townsmen to Longsong Stronghold and protect them from demonic beasts. When we returned to the town after the Months of Demons this year, however, one of my colleagues, Cornelius from the Fletcher Family, was told by the Lord of Border Town that his residence was torn down by the townspeople and that he would not receive any compensation for his loss!"     

"You've got two choices: a) admit that the property doesn't belong to you; and b) imprisonment and being hanged for defection." Simon imitated the tone of Prince Roland. "Sir, how could he charge Cornelius with defection? I dare say all the managers of the mine have been doing this for the past 100 years."     

The image of the gray-haired young man involuntarily flashed across Petrov's mind. Notwithstanding the prince's widespread notoriety, Petrov, from his personal intercourse with him, knew that Roland Wimbledon was definitely not a person of mediocrity. The so-called "defection" was merely a pretext Roland used to assert his absolute authority in his territory. He had never planned to reason with these nobles.     

It appeared that the prince had resolved to sever relations with Longsong Stronghold. Petrov thought that Roland must know very well that the nobles and townsmen took refuge in the stronghold every year. But he still forced Cornelius to make a choice between a death penalty and confiscation of the property. On top of that, he publicized his unreasonable, almost ruthless decision across Longsong Stronghold, which made Petrov wonder what on earth the prince intended to do.     

"But he's the Lord of Border Town. A lord is entitled to make laws within his territory," The one who had mocked Simon earlier replied.     

"Border Town is also under the jurisdiction of the Western Region!" Simon retorted coolly. "Are you challenging Duke Ryan's authority? The duke has ordered us to live in the town and manage the mine. Now, Roland has seized all the properties of the nobles. He's defying the six families. Duke Ryan will absolutely not tolerate it."     

"Are you talking about the murderer who hanged Kihls Medde without even issuing an official document?" Rene, who swung by unnoticed, suddenly voiced out. "My father was furious about it."     

"Lord Medde." Simon bowed. "Yes, that's the man we've been discussing. He's now become more reckless and defiant than ever. I'm afraid we have to rely on the duke's power to stop him. I hope you can take a message for us."     

"Don't worry. At any rate, Duke Ryan has determined to weed him out," Rene answered carelessly. "I came back to let you know that my brother is currently tied up with some business in the king's city. So, it leaves me the only person in the Elk Family to command the army."     

"Really? How fantastic!" Simon rejoined in delight.     

Petrov's brows knitted. He knew such a day would eventually arrive after the prince sent out the letter in winter, in which he announced his intention to stay at Border Town. Yet, Petrov had never anticipated his friend would also participate in the war. Ignoring the curious looks of others, Petrov pulled Rene aside and tried to dissuade him. "Don't meddle in it. He's a prince."     

"I know he's a prince, but he's just a dummy prince among some country bumpkins." Rene Medde patted Petrov on his shoulder. "Don't worry. In any event, Duke Ryan won't hurt a royal family member. Perhaps the prince will surrender soon after we get there. Even if he decides to resist, I'm sure those farmers and miners will flee as soon as we officially launch the attack. Plus, Prince Roland doesn't possess any combatting skills. I reckon he'll remain intact during the entire battle."     

[No, I'm afraid it'll be the other way around...] Petrov tried to say something but eventually chose not to speak his thought aloud because he knew Rene would not believe him. Indeed, he himself could hardly believe that the prince would defeat the alliance army commanded by the duke with only a bunch of miners, either. Nevertheless, a sense of evil forebodings pervaded him.     

"Master Petrov, your father wants to see you at home. He needs to talk to you." A silver-haired steward walked up to Petrov hastily and whispered to him.     

"Noted." Petrov nodded. After bidding farewell to Rene, he, along with the steward, threw himself into the carriage that conveyed him to the mansion of Earl Honeysuckles'.     

"Father." Petrov entered the study and saw Sharafi Hull writing something at his desk.     

His arrival, however, did not interrupt the earl's occupation. "Send me a report on the production, the population, and revenues in the domain. I can plan for the upcoming war in spring. Duke Ryan has issued an order of conscription. After the snow melts, we five families will need to provide our knights and mercenaries to help him attack Border Town."     

"How many people do we have to provide?"     

The Earl paused his writing and looked up. "You never cared about these matters. Why are you interested now?" He unfolded a letter on the desk and said, "25 knights at least, as well as the squires and horses they need. The 40 mercenaries we need to provide must be fully equipped and armed. As for freemen or serfs, the number should be over 100, and they should be lightly armed."     

Petrov did a quick math in his head. In that case, the five families would be providing around 1,000 people. Combined with the duke's troops, such an army would be considered unbeatable in the whole Western Region. It would be an alliance sufficient to suppress the resistance of Border Town, where only 2,000 people in total garrisoned. They did not even need to dispatch all the troops in Longsong Stronghold to gain their victory.     

"Father, can you stay at the rear?" After a momentary hesitation, Petrov asked.     

"Why, my child?" The earl was a bit surprised.     

"I'm concerned with your safety."     

Shalafi could not help laughing. "Do you know what you're talking about? What danger can there be for an elephant to trump an ant? His Highness has but a few knights and less than 50 guards, whereas our people are 10 times more!"     

Petrov would have also thought so had he not met the prince. Technically, his father was correct. Yet... "Father, everybody says a mud city wall will be washed away by the rain, but the one built under His Highness' supervision stood erect in the rain. They've also said it's impossible to stop demonic beasts with merely a group of miners in Border Town, yet His Highness managed to do so. Not a single person fled to the stronghold in the whole course of Months of Demons this year." Petrov felt increasingly agitated. "Now, everyone believes the duke will subdue Roland Wimbledon in the same way an elephant tramples an ant. Do you really think this will be the case, father?"     

"Enough!" Shalafi whacked the desk, rose to his feet and shook his head. He walked to the wall upon which the portraits of all the ancestors of the Honeysuckles Family's were hung. "I know you prefer business and trades to battles and wars. However, a tradesman isn't necessarily a coward. For those merchants who sail out to pursue their enterprises, they put their lives on the line every day." Shalafi knocked on the wall and hollered. "Look at these portraits. Your grandfather and your great-great-grandfather, they fought with their swords and bows against their enemies before establishing themselves on this land full of beasts, refugees, and bandits. Your cowardice really disappointed me!"     

[No, father.] Petrov hanged his head and stopped arguing. He muttered, however, in silence, [You also know that these are my grandfather's and great-great grandfather's stories. Look at their fearless countenances and toned bodies, and then at your own wide waist and your puffy double chin. Father, are you still able to fight on horseback?]