But the man is right, nonetheless: you owe it to your people to have the forces to protect them if an invasion comes, just as you owe it to them not to seek the conflict.
‘Yes,’ you say reluctantly. ‘Let each lord raise ten men, and have them equipped and trained in the use of arms. Recruitonly those of an age to know the risks, not the green youths who dream of a glorious death. Understand?’
Agreement, grudgingly, is reached. That will have to be enough. You have done all you can.
36
Other
war tastes like metal.
metal and sweat and new men in the king’s livery,
swinging swords with little grace.
it is storm-wild and snow-sharp and the king says
‘do not call it war’
but it’s not peace, this thing, strange and new;
it brings no life.
if I were there on the field if I were me
I could teach them better than that
maybe I could teach them to survive
the men he’s chosen are prey-scared,
waiting to be hunted, pretending otherwise,
and all the while the king braces himself for the loss,
a sacrifice he’s too bright and good to make.
I don’t know why he bothers with it at all
I will protect him I will protect him I will protect him –
but his kingdom is bigger than that,
bigger than his kind heart and loyalties,
and the man’s mind knows that. the wolf
only longs to prove itself with claw and tooth.
I will protect him
at night the king’s fears escape him,
slip and skitter like falling leaves,
language dissolving, too human for the wolf.
he says
