"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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"..burned the town," the deep voice of Throbblenucks the red dwarf could be heard from outside the tent.
"The Queen did not burn the town," a second voice clarified. It was that of Lord Henry Stryder who found the dwarf's accusation unfair.
"Alright, the dragon she brought burned the town," Throbblenucks replied. Those on his side nodded and expressed their agreement and the quarrel began all over.
The muffled voices of those arguing
As Imira and Peter made their way towards the tent, the muffled voices of those arguing reached their ears. They shared a knowing look and continued forward, their guards and servants trailing behind. They could hardly go anywhere without them.
The tent, a large rectangular red and orange cotton canvas tent was packed with the highest-ranking present members of the Narnian military and nobility. It took them a few seconds to notice the arrival of their sovereigns but once they did, the room fell promptly into silence.
As Imira looked around the names of those present ran through her mind. The red dwarf brothers Brosnurberk and Throbblenucks, the centaurs Oreius and Foghoof, Stavros the minotaur, Sullenose the Marshwiggle, Dimius the satyr, Phovrus the faun, Blackfeather the raven, Rika the cheetah, Lord Henry, Lord Ogerius, Sir Darren, and, much to Imira's displeasure, Ellexis.
Imira wasn't precisely pleased with the presence of the woman, but she wasn't about to make another scene, so she said nothing and decided she'd ignore her. She took her seat next to Peter's beautifully carved wooden throne and waited for him to say something so the meeting could begin.
"...eighteen houses were destroyed along with three farms, a total of thirteen plots of wheat were lost, and the–" Sir Derrick was saying, but his report was interrupted by Throbblenucks.
"To fire," The master dwarf added. "Say it, m'lord, they were lost to fire,"
Lord Henry rolled his eyes.
Imira was acutely aware of how almost all eyes in the room darted towards her, but she ignored them all and tried to look as unbothered as she could by the dwarf's comment.
"Aye, lost to fire," Sir Derrick sighed. He continued. "And seventy per cent of the grain reserve was taken by the Ettins. The western side of the town, however, remains untouched," he said just a tad more cheerful, "as do the homes furthest from the castle, which, unfortunately, is in ruins,"
"And the casualties?" Peter asked.
"Four Narnian lives were lost during last night's battle," Foghoof replied. "The Ettin losses surpass ours five to one,"
"Our reports sport them fleeing north-east," Blackfeather chirped in, "to reunite with their clan. But they're making slow progress,"
"We should cut them off before they reach 'em," Oreius said. "They are few and they are wounded, if we stop them before they alert the rest, we stand a better chance in the next battle,"
Peter nodded. "Make sure the dead are returned to their people," he said solemnly. "And make sure the newcomers are prepared to face off against the Ettins. Get me two hundred soldiers armed and ready, we ride tomorrow at first light. We'll make short work of them,"
The centaur nodded and Peter stood up followed by Imira. However, having to talk with Lord Stryder, she signalled for her friend to stay. As they waited for the tent to be vacated, Lord Henry approached the Queen to make some small talk.
"I'd say last night was a success," Lord Henry complimented his friend. However, upon hearing this, a certain someone who had a bone to pick with the Queen began grumbling and huffing and complaining to his brother.
"Something to add, master Throbblenucks?" Imira asked.
"Pardon me, your majesties, but I wouldn't call the burning of our crops a success," the dwarf protested in an indignant tone. "Those crops compromise the livelihood of our people. As does the destruction of the town. What are we to do about the townsfolk in need of food? Or your majesties demand for food for the army. How are we to feed your army when we can't even feed our own families? What's gonna happen to them?"
All good questions. Those who were in the process of leaving stopped in their tracks and turned back. Including Peter.
"Malnutrition for sure, that's what's gonna happen. And famine and starvation, possibly followed by a plague. Lots of death for sure," Sullenose the Marshwiggle added all matter-of-factly. "And come winter I only see matters becoming even worse." Imira wanted to tell the Marshwiggle he was not being helpful, but he went on. "But not to worry master dwarf, the Ettins will kill us all before any of that happens," he said as if his words were comforting. "Only those lucky enough to survive will have to face that challenge, and I reckon by then our numbers will have fallen so that the scarcity of food won't be a problem anymore,"
"That is, of course, the best of scenarios," the marshwiggle continued, failing to notice the Queen's sarcasm. "In the worse I see us all perishing in battle or being flayed alive by the Ettins, who will undoubtedly face no shortage of food,"
"I thought we'd all be dead by then," Lord Stryder said, not keen on the pessimistic nature of Marshwiggles.
"Only if we're lucky," Sullenose said.
"No one is going to die," Peter said, tired of hearing the Marshwiggle's predictions of doom.
"My Lord, we will all die," Sullenose stated in an eerily cheerful note. "If there is any comforting fact in life, I find it to be the certainty of death,"
All the humans behind him rolled their eyes. Peter and Imira wished he could join them.
"Rest assures, master Marshwiggle," Imira stepped in, knowing Peter couldn't handle much more marshwiggle optimism. "No one will die consequence of the loss of a few crops,"
"Your Majesty," Throbblenucks spoke again, "we appreciate your encouraging words, but words won't feed the people. The crops lost last night's fire–"
"You mean the crops trampled twice over by the enemy before my arrival," Peter said a little more sternly this time. "Master Throbblenucks, those crops were lost long before Firestream and I arrived to finish off the Ettins."
Throbblenucks stopped grumbling, but he didn't look very pleased.
"We understand your people are dependant on those crops, we understand that perfectly," Imira said, "which is why until the town of New Castle," which coincidentally was in need of a new castle, "gets back on its feet and the people start harvesting again, the crown will provide with grain for its citizens,"
"Lord Henry, when is the shipment of grain His Majesty the High King requested due to arrive?"
"Tuesday, Your Majesty," Henry replied.
"There you go, master Throbblenucks. Come Tuesday the people will receive their grain. Now, I don't know about you, master Sullenose," she turned to the Marshwiggle with a twinkle in her eye, "but I am feeling fairly confident the people of New Castle won't succumb to starvation, plague and death before Tuesday,"
Not even the servants could help but to laugh and chuckle at the Queen's comment.
"Rest assured, my lords," Peter said in good spirits, "a few burnt ploughs of land won't cause the collapse of this kingdom,"
