[Calaethis Dragonsbane]

Downstream, another sighed. Past his prime, he had once been called a ‘prince among men’, but nothing could have prevented this. The Gerry had been dammed by the sheer weight of the bodies; now, only the dead drifted down, and the fish – what remained – gnawed on them. A terrible fate. The guild of fisheries would collapse under this latest setback. It would cripple the docks entirely. Sadly shaking his head, he steered his barge away and thought upon his daughter…

Elsewhere, a young red haired woman jostled and ducked within the crowded cobblestone street. Snatching a purse as she did, her deft fingers revealed its contents: a bare few coppers and a single silver. Practically nothing. It wasn’t even worth having; it took more to dye her hair red. Muttering under her breath, she hollered a cry, “Excuse me – sir, sir, I think you dropped this.” Pressing the leather purse – worth more than its contents – into the startled man’s hands, she ducked away as he swore an oath at his stupidity and thanked her. Shaking her head, she disappeared into the crowd. Glancing up at the bastille upon the hill, she decided that Queen Meliesse and the Prince Regent would get them through this. No matter how tense the atmosphere in streets were, they had weathered worse. After all, this was the capital of the region, and unlike the last few towns that burned, the city walls here were made of stouter stuff then mere wood and brick. No, they were safe here, for now. Only a madman would march on the city. Gerrifordale had never fallen in a hundred and fifty years.
She wondered how her father was doing, stuck out on that pathetic barge, and saw the frightened people rabbiting about. At least the trade routes hadn’t closed yet. As long as the Three Roads remained open, all would be well. It would have to be. Ducking under a set of cellar stairs, she disappeared into the familiar tavern – as much home as she had.

Even further elsewhere, Queen Meliesse stood behind a long window, staring out at her city. “How bad is it?” she asked quietly.
“Bad, majesty. That’s the seventh band of refugees to enter within the week.”
“Have we the supplies?”
“Not to hold for a prolonged siege. If the Roads and Waterway close, the people will riot.”
“Then let us hope they do not. Increase stockpiling at once.”
“My lady… the prices at market have already tripled; if we begin to buy up what’s left of the grain, that will cause a riot as surely as if we were besieged.”
“We have to do something, chancellor. Have the grain imports arrived yet?”
“No, my lady. I have sent out scouts, but I suspect the worse. War has come to Gerriford, even before a single enemy soldier has been sighted.”
“I know old friend… I know.” Sighing, she turned away and strode back to her high-backed throne, “Where is the Prince?”
“Out with the cavalry. He insists on leading them.”
“At least that will give the people some hope. Unfurl the banners, m’lord. It’s time the people saw that their Queen is in residence. And fetch me the River Admiral; we need to see to our defences. I fear we must embank the docks and place a chokehold on free trade.” She rubbed her brow tiredly, “Why now? Why did this have to happen now?”
“I do not know, majesty, but your orders shall be carried out. We are loyal to the crown.”
“I know… I know, and I appreciate it. But now, I need to see to the preparations – while we still have time. Ready the eighth battalion and throw open the draft; we’ll need every man, and boy of fifteen to learn how to bear arms. If all else fails, perhaps a city militia will stall the invasion, even if the army fails. The people will fight to defend their homes; they have a right to. It is only just I enable them. I know I risk empowering riots, but what else can I do? We must rely on the people, as we always have. I prayed this day would never come.”
“Aye ma’am… all of us did.”
“Thank you. Now go.”