The soldier suddenly became grey with apprehension.
‘I had always feared civil war, had always assumed, even in my darkest dreams, that such was the worst that could possibly happen . . . but this! My captain, what has the Prince contrived to do to us?’
‘I fear,’ Birin replied, ‘that he gives us no choice but to partake of his madness.’
After issuing several orders in rapid succession, Birin then turned his attention to Pran, and said, ‘Quickly! What of this threat to your friends and family?’
‘Prince Cir’s soldiers were waiting for us near the old battle site on the Mirrow,’ Pran told him. ‘Others had come across the open field from the direction of my home. I fear they may have been waiting for me to leave my family undefended.’
‘Loriman! Dornal!’ shouted Birin. Two Elf soldiers came forward with alacrity. ‘Each of you form a unit of two score. Loriman, you will escort Pran to his home, and Dornal, you will continue east, and deal with any marauders. If you encounter Cir’s soldiers, slay them if you must, for they are not to be trusted. There has been enough mischief.’
A number of Men and Dwarves who had been standing about since the unpleasantries began, watched these proceedings with understandable concern. One large man stepped forward to address Birin.