Chapter 2 A kingdom Without Hunger

WHEN DRAGON BLEED

Volume I — The Price of Bread

Chapter 2 — A Kingdom Without Hunger

The bells of Lyria rang seven times before sunrise.

Princess Elayne was already awake.

She stood beside the eastern window of her chamber, watching the first light spread across the kingdom.

Lyria did not look like Vareon.

There were no empty fields near the capital.

No starving crowds gathered outside grain merchants.

No children searched through frozen mud for roots.

The streets below were clean.

Smoke rose from hundreds of chimneys.

Carriages moved between the markets.

Bakery ovens had been burning since before dawn.

A line of workers carried sacks of wheat toward the royal granaries.

Elayne watched them carefully.

Behind her, a servant placed a cup of warm milk on the table.

"Your Highness."

Elayne didn't turn.

"How many?"

The servant paused.

"How many what?"

"Grain wagons."

"Forty-two arrived yesterday."

"From where?"

"Elandor."

"How many today?"

"Twenty-six, Your Highness."

Elayne nodded.

"And the northern roads?"

"Open."

"The western roads?"

"Two are blocked by snow."

"How long?"

"Perhaps three days."

Elayne finally turned.

"Three days is enough to lose a village."

The servant lowered her head.

"I'll tell the road master."

"Don't tell him."

Elayne walked toward the table.

"Send someone."

"Yes, Your Highness."

"And take food."

The servant hesitated.

"Food?"

"To the workers."

"Of course."

Elayne picked up the cup.

"People work better when they're fed."

The servant smiled.

"Your Highness thinks like a soldier."

Elayne looked at her.

"No."

She took a sip.

"I think like someone who doesn't want soldiers dying because someone forgot to feed them."

Lyria was different from the kingdoms surrounding it.

At least, that was what people liked to believe.

The kingdom had good harvests.

Its rivers were wide.

Its roads were maintained.

Its nobles were wealthy.

Its army was disciplined.

Its cities were growing.

And its people had enough food.

But Elayne had learned something from her father.

A kingdom was never truly safe.

It was only safe for now.

She entered the royal council chamber shortly after sunrise.

She was seventeen years old.

The youngest person at the table by more than twenty years.

That was precisely why most of the men in the room disliked seeing her there.

Her father, King Aldren, sat at the head of the table.

Beside him stood the commander of Lyria's armies, Lord Cassian Veyr.

Cassian was fifty-two.

He had fought three wars.

Lost one.

Won two.

And considered every battle a lesson rather than a victory.

Elayne respected him.

She also knew he did not trust her.

"You're late," Cassian said.

Elayne pulled out a chair.

"I'm early."

The general glanced toward the clock.

"The meeting began five minutes ago."

"The meeting was scheduled for sunrise."

"It is after sunrise."

"Then your clock is slow."

A few councilors hid smiles.

Cassian stared at her.

King Aldren sighed.

"Enough."

Elayne sat.

"What are we discussing?"

Cassian placed a map on the table.

"Vareon."

The room became quieter.

Elayne looked down.

The map showed Lyria and its neighboring kingdoms.

To the west was Vareon.

Large.

Populous.

Rich in iron.

And increasingly unstable.

"Another rebellion?" Elayne asked.

"Not exactly."

Cassian pointed toward the northern provinces.

"Three villages failed to deliver their winter taxes."

"Because?"

"Famine."

Elayne frowned.

"Vareon had a poor harvest?"

"Yes."

"How poor?"

"Bad enough that the northern roads are filled with refugees."

Elayne looked at the map.

"How many?"

"We don't know."

"You don't know?"

Cassian shook his head.

"Vareon is refusing entry."

"Why?"

"Because admitting refugees means admitting the famine exists."

Elayne leaned back.

"How many people can they lose before the king admits it?"

Cassian didn't answer.

A councilor spoke.

"That is a Vareon problem."

Elayne looked at him.

"No."

He raised an eyebrow.

"Your Highness?"

"A starving neighbor becomes our problem eventually."

The councilor laughed.

"We cannot feed another kingdom."

"I'm not asking us to."

Elayne pointed toward the map.

"People don't stay where there is no food. They'll move."

"Then we close the border."

"And what happens when ten thousand people reach it?"

"We stop them."

"With soldiers?"

"Yes."

Elayne looked toward Cassian.

The general remained silent.

She knew why.

Because he understood.

Ten thousand starving people were not an army.

But if you trapped them against a border long enough...

They might become one.

Or worse.

They might become desperate.

Elayne looked back at the map.

"Send grain."

The councilor immediately objected.

"Your Highness—"

"Not enough to feed Vareon."

She pointed toward three border towns.

"Enough to keep these towns stable."

Cassian finally spoke.

"That will cost us."

"Yes."

"Gold."

"Yes."

"Grain."

"Yes."

"Political influence."

Elayne looked at him.

"That's why we're doing it."

Cassian studied her.

Then, unexpectedly, he smiled.

"Perhaps you do think like a soldier."

Elayne smiled back.

"No."

She looked at the map.

"I think like a princess."

After the meeting, Elayne walked through the palace gardens.

Her younger brother, Prince Tomas, was practicing with a wooden sword.

He was fourteen.

He swung at a training dummy.

Missed.

Swung again.

Missed.

Elayne watched.

"You'll defeat it eventually."

Tomas turned.

"You came to mock me?"

"I came to watch."

"That's worse."

He attacked the dummy again.

This time he struck it.

He smiled proudly.

"See?"

Elayne applauded.

"Terrifying."

"You're annoying."

"So Father says."

Tomas lowered the sword.

"Did they talk about Vareon?"

"Yes."

"Are they going to war?"

"No."

"Yet."

Elayne looked at him.

He was watching her carefully.

"You've been listening."

"Everyone listens."

"That's dangerous."

"You're the one who taught me."

Elayne smiled.

Her brother was clever.

Too clever sometimes.

She looked beyond him toward the palace walls.

"What do you know about Vareon?"

"That they hate us."

"Why?"

"They think Lyria is arrogant."

"Are we?"

Tomas shrugged.

"Probably."

Elayne laughed.

Then her expression changed.

"Do you know what happened there?"

"The famine?"

"Yes."

"People are hungry."

"People are always hungry somewhere."

Elayne looked at him.

"That's not the answer."

Tomas lowered his sword.

"Then what is?"

Elayne didn't know.

Not yet.

That evening, a messenger arrived.

He had ridden from the western border.

His horse was exhausted.

His clothes were covered in mud.

He was brought directly to the king.

Elayne happened to be there.

The messenger bowed.

"Your Majesty."

King Aldren stood.

"Speak."

The man swallowed.

"There are more refugees."

"How many?"

"We don't know."

"Estimate."

"Five thousand."

The king's face hardened.

"From where?"

"Vareon."

Elayne looked at Cassian.

The general's expression had changed.

"Five thousand?" he asked.

"At least."

"How many are armed?"

"Some."

"How many?"

The messenger hesitated.

"Three hundred."

Silence.

King Aldren looked toward the map.

"Three hundred soldiers among five thousand refugees."

Cassian nodded.

"They're not refugees anymore."

Elayne stared at him.

"What do you mean?"

The general pointed at the western border.

"If Vareon cannot feed them, they'll try to cross."

"And if we stop them?"

"They'll fight."

Elayne felt something cold settle in her stomach.

Not fear.

Recognition.

A kingdom could collapse long before its capital fell.

Sometimes all it took was hunger.

Her father turned toward her.

"Elayne."

"Yes?"

"What would you do?"

Everyone in the room looked at her.

She studied the map.

Then she pointed toward a narrow river crossing.

"Open the border here."

Cassian frowned.

"Why?"

"Because if we don't, they'll attack somewhere else."

"And let five thousand people enter?"

"No."

Elayne's finger moved across the map.

"Let the civilians enter."

Then toward another location.

"Separate the soldiers."

Cassian's eyes narrowed.

"Disarm them."

"Yes."

"And if they refuse?"

Elayne looked at him.

"Then we have a battle."

The room fell silent.

Elayne looked again toward Vareon.

A kingdom she had never visited.

A kingdom filled with people she had never met.

A kingdom beginning to starve.

She didn't know it yet, but somewhere inside that kingdom a ten-year-old boy had just been sold for ten silver coins.

And one day, that boy would stand at the gates of Lyria.

Not as a refugee.

Not as a slave.

But as a king.

Elayne looked at the map.

"Send the order."

Cassian bowed.

"Yes, Your Highness."

Outside, the bells of Lyria began ringing for evening.

The kingdom slept peacefully.

For now.

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