Late summer in the Menthino was a busy time. Kaarthen found herself in the gigantic palace map room. The entire floor was a moving image in real-time of Menthino, ladders on rollers and map tables on wheels were along the walls. Marcos was dressed almost casually in a dark green silk shirt and black Safi pants.
The Queen and two princesses, Saliss the oldest and Ruegin, were with her listening to the annual plans of migration from the vast flood plains to Cardin. Three Hjordis in black Safi with their hair up in tight buns stood along the wall with Kaarthen. Marcos had also introduced an older gentleman named General Creighton. The general had an unnamed officer with him who took studious notes.
Prince Carthin, the sickly strange boy, was the only one sitting. He actually looked quite bored. He was still wearing his boots and riding pants and wore a striped tabard of black, purple, white, and gold. Kaarthen recognized it from the squires who worked around the Citadels wall.
She didn't think he could even see the area Marcos had been speaking about for the last hour sitting in the back of the room. No one bothered to correct him, since the decision of who, or if he would marry was still undecided. After another hour, he decided to add his opinions much to Marcos' irritation.
"Why do we evacuate before winter? The flood comes in spring." He pointed out quite suddenly as Marcos explained shifted patrol routes for after harvest.
Marcos stopped and twitched a few times as the room's attention turned to the sickly adolescent.
"The winter is fairly harsh, the ground freezes quick. If any groups have trouble along the journey, they will be in a much harsher environment. In addition, as they travel to Cardin or our other cities, they bring in their harvest to be paid for their writ. They do not have to bring packed meals, or hunt along the way so they usually travel faster." The general answered for Marcos. It was a sound and correct textbook answer. Kaarthen had been taught the same during her time with Marcos in the library.
Prince Carthin considered this. The two princesses turned and started whispering unflattering comments among themselves. Marcos resumed talking and rounded to the annual spring offensive.
He was able to move the map up to look at the northeastern area of the border. Like a giant cross, the Ort came in from the west then arced north gently before turning and exiting south. The Moxle came north to south, and collected half a dozen small streams and rivers that flowed east before joining the Ort. A narrow minor river, which some called 'the lazy', flowed west from Alcanton, and joined the Ort's flow south. The view stretched from their beach gap to middle of Alcanton in the east, and from the middle of Astrokos down into the northern floodplains of Menthino.
"I want to cross early this year with a fast group of cavalry. Boats will cross the gap in the Ort and we'll move north and then directly east. This year they were slow setting in the fortified patrol bases. If they are slow, or not, we'll cut east when they get themselves sorted, leave the horses, and ride the Moxle south to the Ort. It will be extremely important to at the very least, reach a stream with an east flow to the Moxle. In fact we'll likely move along the first one we find destroying the bridges and charging a toll." Marcos chuckled, the general ad his officer smirked with him, and Kaarthen sighed rolling her eyes.
"What's so funny?" The prince asked. "How much would you charge?"
"The balance between life and death." Marcos said cryptically. Kaarthen didn't know what it meant, but she assumed it meant something to do with sex.
"That's not funny. What does that mean?" The prince asked getting irritated.
"Perhaps we should break from this and take tea. It seems near lunch." The Queen offered diplomatically. Everyone was inclined to agree with her.
They came out to a large adjoining meeting room with engraved wood paneled walls accented in gold. They were served tea while they waited for a cold lunch to be served.
The prince dictated the conversation with his soft-boiled politics.
"In Sellis, we watch Menthino and Astrokos closely. We understand that unlike the great wars of the past your country is locked in a constant war of attrition. How can you hope to win?" He asked as servants moved around them with tea and coffee.
Marcos answered in a forced diplomatic tone. "Astrokos has a history that we all share from their days as a true Empire. Their covenant the emperor swears to on his coronation promises a return to glory and demands expansion. Menthino is the largest block to that goal." He shrugged. "They could attempt to take other lands first. Sellis or Munklin are across the mountains to the west but they can't afford anything less than a smooth campaign. They could cross the mountains to the east of the Moxle and lay claim to the City-states on the east shore. Again, they would have to be successful or their army would starve. They need both sides of the fertile Ort to fund and feed an army." Marcos explained.
"Why?" The prince asked interested as the room groaned.
The general interjected allowing Marcos to be served. "They live in frozen dry lands and on either side they have the mountains and glaciers of the chaos lands or the Moxle and the great eastern mountains. They don't get much snow or rain trapped where they are and the dry air freezes everything. The fertile Ort gives them the food needed to survive up there. The people around the capital live underground. Only on the rivers and streams going to the Moxle to the east will anybody be above ground. They can also farm a little in that area, but not enough to feed an extra army. That is also where their Ort farmers live during the flood season."
"So why fight?" He asked. Most of the room drank tea and listened to the byplay.
Marcos turned to him. "Don't they know this in Sellis? Population control." Marcos said dryly.
"What's that?" The prince asked.
Marcs set his tea down and folded his hands. "The frozen lands don't support much population. Few people can farm the land permanently. It is difficult to get people to not make babies." The princesses' chairs creaked as they shifted. "So, they need a system, or several systems, to control population so not everyone starves." Marcos stopped hoping he said enough.
