"My Lord!" Krivex's voice carried across the courtyard as he strode toward him.
Lumberling didn't wait for questions. His tone was steady and decisive. "I know. Prepare everyone. This won't be a raid or a march of soldiers, it will be an exodus. We'll be escorting ten thousand souls to Liraeth's territory."
Krivex's brows furrowed. "Ten thousand…" He exhaled slowly, the number sinking in. "That will slow us to a crawl. We'll draw eyes from every direction."
"That's the price," Lumberling said firmly. His gaze swept over the training yard, already picturing columns of frightened families and heavy carts snaking across open roads. "We won't move like shadows this time. Every bandit, every scout, every enemy will know we're moving. And we'll fight them. This time, none of us can falter."
Krivex gave a sharp nod.
Lumberling's hand curled briefly into a fist before he unclenched it. Many might not survive. No, he would make sure most did.
