"Ettinsmoor? Is that what we're calling it now?" Imira asked.
"Better than 'the northern lands the Ettins inhabit' don't you think?" Peter asked in return.
"I suppose it's catchy," she agreed. "So what do we do now?"
Peter looked around the room...
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Peter arrived at the Western Wood one Sunday evening and got himself busy. He had with him a force of twelve hundred Narnians to defend the western border. Not bad, but not great. The North still needed to be looked after, he couldn't need Cair Paravel unprotected, his brother and sister had each taken a small force with them on their ventures, and there were still troubling Narnians in the South. Twelve hundred was the best he could manage in the short time he had had to prepare.
He might not have had a large number with him, again, but he had his wit.
Barricades were quickly built around the camp and trenches were built where he indicated. Spies were deployed to gather information on the enemy. Dryads, birds, squirrels and owls had all returned with vital information to Peter's plan.
"What they want is to take over Narnia and the only way for them to do that is to come further in. That is why we're attacking in two instances: the first will dispose of the giants but give them confidence in their numbers, leaving them with no choice but to chase after us; the second will give us the advantage by dividing their forces." Peter explains. "But while we do that, we need to destroy their backup," he declares.
"Oreius," Peter turns to the most trusted and revered centaur in all of Narnia, "While we engage them you are to take your regiment, sneak past their lines, destroy their camp and release any prisoners you find,"
The centaur nods solemnly bringing a fist to his chest in a noble gesture. "As you command, my liege,"
"I will charge at them on a frontal assault with half our numbers. It is here, during this first fight, that we must dispose of their giants," Peter said. "Now, our trees can handle them, but we need the archers to protect the treefolk from their flying beasts," Peter said turning to Ioleope, the blonde female centaur in charge of the archers.
"We will take care of them, Your Majesty," she replied.
"There are only four giants, as say our spies, and if we manage to take them down, we will be halfway there." Peter states. "Once the giants have fallen I will order a retreat, forcing them to give us chase and leading their forces East, to this clearing," he points to the battle plans before him to better lustrate his strategy, "right between the trenches our dwarves have dug up."
