Brett 7 | planet-helen-project

VII.

The horizon was still. Nothing moved, but his eyes remained glued to the treacherous pass.
He had refused to remain in the Bounty with the others, the building had been expanded to thrice its original size, but it still seemed to shrink whenever he walked it. People would immediately quiet; some looked away in embarrassment, or shame, maybe even fear. Jun had made his first mistake as leader, he had put his interest before those of the people. Rationally, his actions were justified, and furthermore, the resources they gathered from the tree would help their cause tremendously.
But who’s cause was it?
Jun had to remove himself, his passion was clouding his vision; and burning the Kingwood had been a colossal mistake. The near death of Sana Lanson was the most traumatic of errors. If there was ever anyone that would follow him to Rentis-Sphere and back, it was her. But his ignorance had almost killed them both, part of him wondered if he knew that all along.
Upon returning to Harvesthome, Jun realized his mistakes. The Harvesters watched the intense flare of unexplainable glory with terror; they were afraid of the destruction, and ultimately afraid of him. When the sky turned bright as day, many had whispered prayers of sending: they had expected to die. When he walked away from the incident without a single scratch, that fear transferred over to him. He heard whispers of magic, the pure evil kind that made a man invincible. Some said that the burning of the Kingwood was sacrilegious, and that Jun’s survival was proof of his Rentis-brood. Of course, that was nonsense, but only Manala seemed to acknowledge it.
“How you managed to survive is a mystery, Mr. Harver.” The words stung, Jun knew the truth behind them. “I must say that we are relieved, when we saw the spark of ignition we had feared the worst.” It had been the Forte-night immediately following the burning; Jun had called an emergency meeting.
“That’s enough kindness for one night, I didn’t call you here to listen how worried about me you all were. I’m sure it’s touching.” He paced the room fervently, Gather Lee stared in wonder; his younger brother, on rounds as Prime Scouter, was absent. His dedication was excusable, the lack of Jore Horpe’s presence as Prime Hunter was not. Jun was already considering a replacement. “We all know why we are here, I won’t keep you long.” Jun stretched his exhausted body, “the Kingwood should not have exploded.”
“Finally, something we agree on.” Everet quipped.
Jun slammed his hand across the other’s cheek before he could even flinch. The strike made such a sound, that all sat stunned. Jun stared at the startled Lanson, wondering how long he could suffer the other’s presence.
“I do not regret my actions, Lanson. I do not intend to let you belittle my achievements, and I certainly will not allow you to remain on this council if you continue to act like the tit-sucking babe that we all know you to be.” Jun moved in close, and Everet managed a flinch this time. “The Kingwood had to be burned. But it should not have exploded in the manner it did. Perhaps I misspoke.”
“You’re fucking mad! You think you actually have any power?!”
“So long as you choose to hide behind your humor, I can hide behind my fist. Mock me, and it’ll be the last thing you do.” Jun’s teeth were clenched; his rage swirled around him and blurred the corners of his vision. “Your own fucking sister was nearly killed in the explosion—“
“MY SISTER! Exactly, you ingrate! Your blind ambition for power has taken control of your sanity! You think you can lead like this? You think anyone will follow you, if all you do is destroy, and burn, and kill?!”
“Enough.” Manala spoke.
But Everet couldn’t be sated. “I’ve had enough. If you think we are all going to sit around and follow you to your untimely death, than you’re a bigger fool than the fools that follow you!” Jun laughed, Everet turned red. There was a moment of tension when Everet stood, half the room stood with him. Everyone expected bloodshed, but Everet just scoffed and exited. “You think everyone is so eager to spill blood? You’re all fools.”
And just like that, he had lost his first follower.
Jun sighed, counting his loses. Everet Lason, Ellis Tuln, Jore Jun, Nor Makus, Corin Mohanas… So many others lost or dead. And he had only just begun, how many more had to die before he was sated. He couldn’t go on like this, if he continued to threaten the people who followed him he would soon be overthrown. He needed the passion of his people, but kindness didn’t win any wars. He needed support; he needed followers; because alone, he was a single Thrush-ray waiting to explode.
The Autumn-grass was thick here, which in itself was not normal. Just the day before, there had been no Autumn-grass this far south of the valley. Only the rapidly narrowing fields led to the treacherous knife that cut south between the Columns. But here it was, still short, but taller than day old Autumn-grass had any right to be. From what reports had said, this was the least of his worries. Scouters all over Harvesthome were reporting extreme changes to the natural flora and fauna of the valley, and Manala’s Hatchers only confirmed the suspicions.
Things had changed on the night of the burning, and everyone seemed to realize it.
“After the Kingwood…flared, for lack of a better term, both Scouters and Hatchers noticed changes in their field of work.” Manala reported, her voice boomed a commanding tone. Jun wanted nothing more than to strangle the witch, but he held that emotion in check. The less she knew, the more power he had. “Gather Yon Yelso, Prime Scouter of Harvesthome was the first to report. He claimed seeing a herd of harts out by the Northeast fields, and when he approached they behaved strangely.”
“Strangely, huh. That’s a word for it.” Deon chimed in, impatient as ever. His awe of Manala had considerably subsided in the past week. “They attacked him. Fuckin’ deer lined up like a platoon of spearmen, and charged.”
“Deon, I recommend keeping comments founded in complete rumor to oneself.” Manala commanded and the bald man fell silent. He scratched his head and mumbled, but otherwise remained still. “The harts were abnormally aggressive; two Scouters were seriously injured in the search.” Jun knew what was coming next. “It is not known for certain, and will not be known for quite some time. However, I speculate that the destruction of the Kingwood somehow altered the natural survival instincts of these animals. This finding is not only a scientific break-through, but an ecological phenomenon. The alteration of fauna suggests that perhaps we have upset the balance of the valley. Just as Autumn-grass was meant to be partnered with Grass-kin, perhaps the Kingwood was a pillar of life in this valley.”
“And without it we are all fucked.”
“Thank you, for the contribution, Deon!”
“Just say it! Something ain’t right! First we kill the Justices, and everything’s better. Then we burnt the tree, and everything goes to shit again! What’s next, Jun?! Plan on making things better again?” There was anger in the man’s words, but Jun wasn’t deaf. He heard something else, hidden deep in the complaint was a kernel of fear. What did come next? Death. That’s the only way, to kill and die. Ronea’s words echoed in his skull. And how right she was. Perhaps Jun had misjudged her too.
“All is not lost, old man.” Hyatt Mejini jumped in now. “The valley grows like never before! There is more Autumn-grass than we know what to do with! The entire south quarter grows thick with it, and it grows thicker than ever! This year will have a Harvest like none we have ever seen before.”
“How can you think of the Harvest now?” Gather Lee interjected, before falling silent. Jun wondered what the youth spent his day thinking of.
“We are our own village now. We don’t need to cut the Harvest for Solstice anymore. We can keep the excess, and use the new mills that Manala’s Builders are making! We can make our own bread, process our own grain.” Hyatt was excited, his dark eyes wild. “Destroying the Justices has given us the opportunity to make a living for ourselves, but destroying the Kingwood has given us the means to do so.” Everyone considered the words for a moment; words that justified Jun’s actions.
“So the question lies in what to do next.” The silence that followed was even longer. When no one offered an option, Jun continued. “We can’t afford to buckle now. If we show indecision or weakness the Harvesters will not follow us.” They’ll kill us just as they killed the Justices, Jun left out. The Prime Harvester, a man that Jun knew little of, seemed unmoved by the words. Prime Builder, Toren Beyll just scoffed.
“You don’t understand Harvesters, boy.” The gruff man scratched his red beard with thick tan fingers, caked with dirt. “For all the incorporatin’ you lot are tryin’ to accomplish, you sure make a point to segregate our work force.” Hyatt made a move to interject but Jun waved him down; Toren had a point. “We’re all Harvesters as I see it now. And if you have any idea what sort of leadership we need, it’s not lord-commander like you’ve become.” The words were blunt, Jun liked this man.
“Then perhaps you should propose our next direction, Beyll.” Jun wasn’t going to back down from an insult. The man stared at him blankly and just shrugged, people like Toren Beyll were necessary. They worked hard, and often asked questions that would make you consider your values. But Jun knew that the man had little to contribute to the area of foresight. Let him speak long enough, and he’ll run out of things to say.
“We are all Harvesters. Each of us has an equal right to live free, and fight for the freedom that others would seek to take from us. And you can believe that there will be those that would take that freedom. I am not your enemy, Toren. I am not your enemy, Manala. And I am certainly not an enemy to the people of Harvesthome. My decision to burn the Kingwood has led to unforeseen circumstances, yes. Those circumstances have left our people rattled, even afraid. Now, more than ever, is the moment for action.” Jun felt like Sana for a moment, her absence was palpable; but her health came first. “My decision to burn the tree has left some questioning our ability to lead, and for that I am sorry.” The words tasted bitter on his mouth. Sorry. What a pathetic word, but it had its uses.
“No one could have foretold what would occur.” Manala grasped the conversation in her massive hands. “Even I did not know the capabilities of the common Thrush-ray. It’s safe to say that for the next couple weeks my Hatchers will be breeding more. The Kingwood’s destruction was genocide in the least.” No one was going to miss the pests, yet Manala didn’t pause long enough for the thought to settle. “Thrush-rays may be the key to this mystery, as it appears we know next to nothing about their physiology or nesting culture. Furthermore, the Thrush-ray seemed to be the only form of Fauna that remained unaffected by the Kingwood’s death.”
A mystery that was too, but Manala explained just how important the discovery was.
After the ‘flare’, everything had changed. Light-caps grew bigger and brighter; their light remained glowing many days after being plucked now. Night-stalks were mimicking human speech at a much more accelerated rate; many even seemed to understand commands now. The deer were aggressive, Autumn-grass grew quicker, even Grass-kin were twice the size they were last harvest; and twice as sweet. Many were uninterested in Manala’s report, a fact that she seemed completely oblivious to. But Jun remained focused on her words, the more she spoke the less he expected her of a set up.
Perhaps she hadn’t known the Thrush-ray nest would react the way it did.
If that were the case, he would have to sincerely reconsider his ability to judge people.
After all, he had expected Everet Lanson to fall in line. Perhaps Jun was losing his mind after all.
“The most startling discovery…” Manala’s words trailed off, her eyes catching something behind Jun. Everyone turned to look, before seeing her Jun knew who it was. Sana Lanson stood in the doorway, arms crossed over her chest. Her flawless skin was wrapped in medical bandages, a sterile shift was draped over her shoulders. She looked weak on her feet, but her eyes glowed with such a bright calescence that they commanded attention. Somehow, Jun knew that she had been transformed. “The most startling discovery is the state of Sana Lanson.” Manala finished her sentence bravely. Sana guffawed.
“Don’t let me ruin your fun. Just pretend like I was never here.” And with that she sat. The meeting went on as usual, with Manala controlling most of the discussion. Of course with Sana there, the topic of her ‘state’ never resurfaced. Despite that, no one needed clarification. The most startling discovery was the fact that Sana Lanson survived the ‘flare’. Jun had carried her unconscious body back to Harvesthome, the frailty of her nakedness had sent a powerful emotion racing through his body. For the second time that season he had charged into the Bounty, and managed to give Sana aid that could have very well saved her life.
And of course Sana held it against him.
“Jun.” The word squeaked weakly from her lips, as Providers moved frantically to prepare for whatever it was they were going to do to a victim of an otherworldly tree-burning. “I…Owe…you…my life,” was all she managed before she fell unconscious again. Jun shook his head at the memory; their relationship was a competition of survival. Apparently Jun was winning.
The count was two to one, and because of that Sana had sworn to always be by his side.
She sat next to him now, her presence gave off a heat that he was certain emanated from his body as well. He pushed the thought of Nor Makus’s wry smile from mind. There were more important things to be concerned with. When Manala finished her report, the room was noticeably less energetic. Jun had waited long enough.
“Now’s when we decide what comes next.” The silence was what he expected, so he continued before it became painful. “If you are all expecting me to make the decisions for you—“
“Oh go fuck yourself, Harver.” Deon spat. “We know what needs to be done, no one will say it though. We need a leader that isn’t afraid to get burnt. We need someone who can make a fuckin’ decision and stick to his shooter. There! I said it. Surprised?” Jun was. “You may be stark naked crazy, but you made a fucking choice. You decided something needed to be done, and you did it. I can get behind that, again and again.”
“Here.” Hyatt replied, and Gather Lee nodded his agreement Toren and the Prime Harvester looked at one another and shrugged, mumbling their consent. Sana undoubtedly followed him, and even with Everet, Gather Yon Yelso, and Jun Horpe gone…Jun was in full support again. It had been too close a call, but the rule of the Justices’ were still fresh on their mind. And the mind of the council, and the mind of the Harvesters were two different beasts.
He had to convince everyone. An impossible task.
“Don’t worry Manala, if I keep going at this rate; I’ll be dead soon enough.” Jun even risked a wink at her, but she only sat stone-faced. Two could play her game, and he could play it much better. “But that still doesn’t leave us with a plan. And since my last one literally blew up in our faces, I am leaving the next course of action up to you. All of you.” Give them the option to make their own decisions, and they’ll give it back. Where had he heard that before?
“We re-double our efforts. Prioritize our work forces.” Sana’s words were curt, clipped with a tight jaw and even tighter lips. “What is most important right now?”
“The Harvest.” Suggested Yoren Beyll.
“Our independence.” Added Gather Lee.
“Defense.” “Support.” “Getting the harts back.”
“Survival.” The Prime Harvester chimed in, with a wrinkled smile. Jun knew the face, but the name always slipped him. Perhaps there was hope for Harvesthome yet.
“And how do we survive?” Manala asked.
“Simple. We harvest, we gather, and we build.” The man leaned back, stretching his legs. “The Harvest ends in two Morendo-nights, once Cornath rises; the traders from Solstice will come marching. If they walk into town as it is now, they’re gonna know somethin’s up.” He sucked in through his teeth; Jun was impressed at the expertise of the gesture.
“So we defend! We can’t wait for them to come to us.”
“But we can’t over step our resources either.”
“We have more resources now than ever before. We need to strike before it’s too late!”
“No.” Sana’s words halted the conversation. “If we strike now the most we’ll accomplish is to confuse and disorganize. Solstice greatly out populates us, without a more solid plan we would be hurrying the end of our operation.” Manala literally gaped at the words coming from her mouth, this wasn’t the Sana she knew. Jun knew better.
“So how do we fool the traders?” Jun asked her. Sana glanced at him, blue eyes searching. How did he know what she was thinking? Simple, he had been thinking the same thing. Only now, it appeared to be her idea. And the Harvesters would follow her.
“The construction will give us away, our numbers will too.” Sana was on to something, her point slowly sinking in to the other minds. “We need mills to process our own Autumn-grass, but that can wait. With the Grass-kin growing as ripe as it is, we can survive off of that for the time being. We need to focus our efforts on buying time, and we need to come up with an explanation for the state of things.
Jun didn’t like where this was going.
“In order to fool the annual traders, we are going to need to restore the Harvesthome they knew.”
Of course, that conversation had led here; to the narrow pass known as the Knife. The two Morendo-nights had faded, and as Corna rose in the sky its light gave sight to the slow twisting train of traders carrying their wares up the rocky pass. Everything hinged on this day; preparations were thorough, but Jun knew there was an oversight. What if the traders demanded more crop? What if the fleeing Mathius Betheloo had already alerted them? Where was Corin Mohanas, why hadn’t Nor Makus returned?
There were too many unknowns, and now that he saw the massive train of pack-mules and heard the jingle of trinkets he knew they weren’t prepared. This was going to take a miracle. Temporary huts were set up at the foot of the pass below, wicker-thatched roofs were layered with mud to keep the rains out. If things still worked as they did years before, the huts would serve as a half-way point. The pack-mules were slow, but carriages couldn’t navigate the Knife in some areas. The narrow pass limited the wares of threshed grain out in bulk. In a good year, the Traders would travel the Knife a dozen times before all the Autumn-grass was harvested. This time, they’d be lucky to get one full trip.
“The huts are something, huh? Built by slaves overnight so then can bleed us quicker.” Toren Beyll bellowed. “Fuckin’ savages if you ask me. D’ya know that those thatch roofs are made of Autumn-grass? The stuff is used for everything down there; they ain’t gonna be happy when they see what we’ve got for them.” That much Jun could agree with.
“Don’t you worry about that, I’ll take care of the business.” Toren just looked him up and down and then nodded. Jun tried not to think about what would happen next. He never would have thought it would come back to this. “The goal is to get the traders to take the bait and leave. If they think we are pulling them along, we could be faced with another Blood-Harvest.”
“That won’t happen. Not this time. We beat those Justices once, we can do it again.”
Only this time the Justices will be sell-swords, and they won’t be sleeping when we slit their throats. The three Scouters to his left were glancing at him nervously, it was almost time; Jun could feel the tension. He wondered if this is how performers felt the moment before the start of their sophisticated ‘epochs’. Only here, the consequences of forgetting a passage was possible execution. The thought made Jun smile, players had it so easy.
“I’d rather it not come to that, Scouter-One head back to the Bounty. Let Manala know they are on the move. Prime Builder Toren Beyll and I are going to invite our guests personally.” Jun put his heals to Mightyhorn and lurched down into the pass. The strong hart landed perfectly, and took off down the cliffs. Jun heard the scraping against rock, wind blowing in his ears. His black hair grown long as of late, trailed behind him. There was a blast from a trumpet, and the traders immediately ran for cover; Jun glanced about curiously as his hart came to a halt. Toren came to a halt next to him, his balding head glistened with sweat.
“This isn’t right.”
From around the corner of a boulder, three men stepped out. Each carried a sword of pure quitte; Jun froze in horror. This wasn’t right indeed.
“HALT!” One man shouted, arm raised in warning, Jun suddenly realized how weaponless he was. From lower on the pass, more men charged to the scene. If they were going to survive this, they needed to run now. But Jun couldn’t run, fear and instinct couldn’t deter his resolution. He had to adapt, and he prayed that Yoren would follow.
“Where the fucking sphere have you been!” Jun shouted, pressing his deer onward toward the men. Thankfully Yoren followed.
“I said stay where you are!” The man took a step back, and it was enough to drive Jun’s hart into a quick charge. The three men reacted poorly and retreated back enough for the hart to bound over the middle; Toren’s hart just bowled the man to the ground. Jun slowed his heart and moved farther down the passage, coming face to face with reinforced swordsmen.
They all carried quitte swords; the malicious blade glinted black in the early daylight. Mightyhorn came up short, the material made the mount nervous. Jun couldn’t blame him, and he didn’t push him onward. This was as far as he wished to push.
“Who’s in charge! I demand to speak to an officer!” Jun shouted above the din of the soldiers. He held his breath in the silence that followed. The men came up short, these had short shields of bound wood. Their colors were blue and silver. They weren’t from Solstice. Jun had a feeling he was in over his head. Toren caught up, he was breathing heavily now. Please don’t say anything. The man just caught Jun’s eyes and nodded; Toren was scared shitless, but he would fight if he had to.
“Get down from that beast!” A blue capped man shouted, Jun just laughed.
“I’m all there is that is holding him back from running you through!” Jun let his voice carry as far as possible, he was red in the face from yelling. “I. Want. An. Officer.” The men facing him looked nervous, but it wasn’t fear. They seemed uncomfortably over their heads. “Now.”
The man closest to Jun turned: “Call for the Grand-Judge.” Others complained, but he seemed to have some authority. Grand-Judge? Jun suddenly felt like he was plunged into deep water. There was tension in the soldiers, but they stood their ground. Jun was having difficulty placing them. What were the Southern Cities named again? Jun felt the need for urgency. “State your purpose stranger!” The man bravely called forth, Jun didn’t even turn to him; he ignored the man. Toren stayed on his hart, even though the poor beast appeared to be shaking at its knobbed knees.
There was a long wait, and extremely uncomfortable silence that followed. Jun went from tense to bored, knowing that if they decided to kill him after all it would be a relief to the wait that followed his arrival. Corna was in full blast by the time an officer appeared. To be honest, Jun heard him first. The clank and scrape of metal preceded the elaborate guard dressed in fine blue tunics thrown over silver mail. The massive plume erupting from his spiked helm could be seen shortly after the creaking of his armor. When the guard parted, Jun came face to face with a man dressed in finely polished silver-plate. His helm’s guard was down, the thin slats in the mask made the man look like a construction. Across his chest was a standard, a white fist clenched facing upward on blue silk.
Scigfried, the city of metal. That made this metal contraption of a man very important. The more metal one wore, the greater his prowess on the battlefield. Jun had laughed with Hal about the idea of a soldier who collapsed under the weight of his ‘prowess’. The Prime Justice had been personally offended, being a direct descendant of a Scigfried blood. He had went into descript detail of the honor system, how a man earned his weight, and how it would condition him to be stronger. According to Makor Betheloo, all Scigfried warriors could carry any weight; because in order to earn it, you had to grow stronger.
Seeing a Scigfried warrior march up to his face, and stand tall in sheets and sheets of metal was not what Jun had expected. Somewhere from his past, he felt a pang of honor. If it took any amount of time to ‘gather one’s weight’, then this man must be near a hundred years old. After Jun realized this, he felt his fear dissipate. There was no possible way that things were going to go as they had planned. Jun stared into the faceplate of the other’s helm, and knew he was looking into a face that had seen more death than any man should have to bear. Jun could use that ploy.
“Where have you been?!” Jun let himself plead, his voice full of emotion. “We sent for aid well over a week ago! We’ve been waiting all night as well, the Harvesters were beginning to believe you weren’t coming.” There was sadness in Jun’s voice, if this man was old he may regret the ways of his life. Perhaps pity would cloud his judgment—
“People die.” The two words echoed through the speakers mask, booming and powerful.
Jun had misjudged. Fuck.
“Our people have died! I suppose that’s no concern to you, though you never have to worry about losing life. The rate at which you travel will always make you arrive last to a field of battle!”
“Silence.” The word was so loud, Jun could hardly believe it came from a human. Whoever was in the tower of armor was a force to behold. Perhaps that was the strength that carrying metal on your body your entire life granted. A blustery voice.
“Fuck your silence! My men die, my people die, and you are too high and mighty to remove your metal dress and mount an animal in order to make haste! While you wallow in honor and duty and tradition, children are killed. Houses are burnt! By the fucking time you make yourself present, we’ve already begun to rebuild!” Jun was inches from the other’s helm, his passion was not masked; he felt the truth in his words. “Do you have any idea what your ignorance has sown?!” Jun was about to spit when the man punched him square in the chest. The metal fist knocked Jun backwards onto his feet, the air refused to fill Jun’s lungs.
He had considerably misjudged his foe, but what other option could he take?
“Remove this jester from my presence.” The metal man towered over the gasping Jun, chains and sheets and bells rattled over silver plate. He was a walking instrument, a tower of construction. Toren moved his hart in front of the man, and the two came to a halt. Jun managed to pull in a breath and stand back to his feet.
“Look at me.” Jun’s voice was full of hate. He was tempting fate, he knew. He couldn’t turn back now. “Look at me, coward.” The man in plate stayed facing away. If Jun knew anything about the city of Scigfried, it was the absolute obsession with honor. Pride. Standing. Rank. Status. Age. Especially about age, and the respect owed thereof. “Look. At. Me.”
The man turned and his metal swished in layers; he wore it light as silk, moving as graceful as a naked meggun. Jun knew what death looked like, and this was it. “Speak again.” Was it a challenge? Was it a command? For a moment Jun was unsure of himself, he had never experienced such an interaction before in this life. He expected that his legacy may not survive the night, nonetheless the hour.
“There’s no Harvest.”
Everything came to a halt. The metal tower was silent.
“That’s impossible! Look around you! Half the buildings have been expanded, and construction has started on four mills already!” Toren complained.
“So we need an explanation.”
“The Woodsmen.”
The room looked at Jun. Curiosity and understanding flashed at him, what was he proposing? Could it be done? Or would his plan explode in his face again? If Jun was crazy, he was endangering the entire population of Harvesthome. But if he remained quiet, could he rely on the others to save themselves?
No. He couldn’t.
Not only that, but he wouldn’t rely on them.
This was his passion, his fate. He couldn’t let them claim it. He wouldn’t allow it.
“Woodsmen raided the fields, killing Harvesters by the hundreds. They raped our women and kidnapped our children. Those that survived have managed to salvage a meager crop, this explains the excess growth of Autumn-grass. We were unable to maintain the fields, not with such casualties. So the Justices stepped in. After the unfortunate death of Makor Betheloo, and being abandoned by Mathius, a new Prime Justice was assigned. He managed to re-task the village, prioritizing shelter over Harvest. The Justices took a serious hit as well, and because of this; and the combination of a terrifying storm, the rebuilding has been delayed.
“During this storm, the Kingwood was struck by lightning and caught fire. The burning was so brilliant that many Harvesters thought it to be the end of times; the judgment from the Creator on our now miserable lives. The people became afraid, some fled north to safer lands; others remained here to prepare the harvest.
“When the traders arrive, they will find a town trying to rebuild after two horrific disasters. They will see the sorry state of the town, and the lack of people in the streets; and will know our story is true. After all, the Woodsmen do exist; and Solstice fears them as much as we once did. They will see our meager offering of crop and be appalled. They will either trade us little, or nothing at all, and leave. Perhaps leaving some of their own to help us harvest more Autumn-grass before returning back with little.
“This accomplishes a few things. The first, we do not give them resources to survive a comfortable winter. They will be hungry, possibly weak, and their trade will be even weaker. Secondly, they will think us defeated, and won’t know how to punish us. Initially, they will leave us be. Third, we will still have the crop we need to be independent and raise a strong resistance. Of course this task is no easy feat, and it will take the cooperation of many. But we managed to achieve our freedom, now all we have to do is hold on to it.”
The silence was long. Many considered his words, Jun didn’t doubt they were skeptical.