“We have river forts,” Sier Galvary said.

“If the Pargunese were unwise enough to attack the river towns, the forts might hold them off. But why would they not go around the towns?”

“The forest itself—”

“Is a partial protection, but is also my responsibility. It would be better to find a way to live peaceably with the Pargunese. That is not something I expected to say, ever, as I was convinced the Pargunese had no interest in peace, but I am advised that I might be mistaken. If they are not interested in peace, then we have much to do before the land is safe from invasion.”

“You speak of an army.”

“Yes.” Kieri sighed. Through long association, the humans of Lyonya had absorbed many elven—he dared not call them notions—about conflict and war, most of them, to his mind, inaccurate. He had been where they had not. “The rangers are excellent at what they do, patrolling the forest and keeping our people safe from brigands and the occasional raid from Tsaia—something we won’t have as much of with the old Verrakaien gone. We have the small city militias in those river forts, and the Royal Archers … but we do not have a force fit to meet even a single cohort of Pargunese, should they take it into their minds to invade.”

“But why would they?”

“Me,” Kieri said. “I warred with them on the borders of Tsaia; I killed one of their Sagons myself, and only realized much later it was their king’s brother. Moreover—and I found this out only recently—it’s possible their quarrels with us and with Tsaia come from very old wounds. The elves say their ancestors were driven out of their lands by magelords of Old Aare—they came to Pargun and Kostandan looking for refuge and then met what they saw as old enemies across the river.”

“Where did they come from, then?” Halveric asked. “I thought they were of mageborn origin themselves, probably crossed the river from Tsaia.”

“Not according to my elven tutor,” Kieri said, nodding at Orlith, who sat silent and still in his place. “He won’t say more than that they came from across the eastern ocean, and the same who tormented me tormented them until they fled.”

“Do you believe that?” Belvarin looked at Orlith and Amrothlin, then back at Kieri.

“In essence, yes. About the details, I don’t know. But if they had reason to fear and hate the Tsaians—the magelords, I mean, and know some of them moved here—and they’ve had me as their enemy these four hands of years and more, that could well be enough to bring an attack. We are less defended than my stronghold in Tsaia. That’s full of trained soldiers, and they’ve learned to let it alone.”

“So you want us to raise an army to make peace?” Belvarin said. The edge of scorn in his voice emphasized the apparent contradiction in that.

“I want us to raise a defensive army to make invasion less likely until—gods willing—I can convince the king of Pargun that I do not wish war.”