Wilkin sighed, rose from his chair, went to the window, leaned on its sill, and stared outside in silence for some time. "I suppose the time has come," he said quietly. "We shall begin evacuating all those who cannot fight. Our crops are done for this year. The bulk of the stores shall be sent to Lund, where they will be needed most.
"I was going to save the wood from the buildings for reconstruction. Well, we have many farmers here, and I think we shall begin planting an unusual fall crop, just for Morlock's army."
"Fall crop?" asked Gart, exchanging a look with Damond.
Wilkin smirked, sardonically. "A figure of speech. I am referring to the digging of holes and lining them with sharpened stakes. An effective means to bog down the initial onslaught. The Enemy will be preoccupied filling in and covering such holes, whilst trying to contend with arrows, which we have in plenty, and the earth itself, which by then will be frozen hard. For added measure, we will strip the surrounding land of sod, fieldstone and bramble, and beat it down with poles until it
becomes as impacted as hard, frozen clay.
"At the least, this will confound their first assaults, while affording us the time to muster a counter-offensive or two while they are dealing with this obstacle. Meanwhile, within the city proper, this will give us a little time to prepare ourselves, preparing our fortifications and other works of stone."