"The Empire grew too quickly, your majesty. Soon the winter stock will be emptied, and we haven't seen the first shoot of spring yet." A stubby man wearing furs was struggling to keep up with the stride of the prince.
"Don't the villages have their own stock?" Prince Vladimir looked annoyed. "The heavens know they were surviving the winter before we took them under our wing."
His steps echoed in the empty stone corridor. The castle had a stillness to it, only interrupted by the occasional winter gale that snuck in between the old ashlar stones.
Velikan castle was the largest man-made structure in the world, and probably the emptiest, too. Its only inhabitants were Prince Vladimir, his trusty advisors and, of course, the three Bogatyrs. It had been that way for longer than anyone could remember.
Golod made a complicated expression as he quickened his pace. "Well, your majesty... It would seem they either used it up or lost it when we annexed them." His words were squeezed between huffs and puffs.
Prince Vladimir said nothing for a few minutes. They kept walking the same corridor, which seemed to stretch endlessly. "Peasants. It's always peasants. They keep finding excuses to be unhappy. Why must they put a damper on our expansion? We can't have them revolting again—not so soon after the last revolt. The last thing we need is an excuse for other empires to wage war on us," he thought aloud. It was true. The seafaring empire of Cornal and the Holy Expanse were eyeing him greedily from the West and South respectively, and his armies were much too weakened from the recent campaign to put up a decent fight.
"What do you suggest, your majesty?"
"Kill them. Not all, of course. Peasants as they may be, they are necessary. Weed out the weak ones until there is enough food to last the winter. Have the Bogatyrs help if you must." No emotion was spent in the speech. He was simply being pragmatic to solve a problem.
The announcement made the rotund follower miss a beat, but he hurriedly caught up. "But, your majesty! The Bogatyrs are men of honor! They would never condone an attack on the innocent!" He stuttered several times and almost tripped half as many.
The blond beard of the prince shifted as he smiled smugly. "They are much more attached to me than they are to their honor. They will fight."
"I don't doubt Alyosha and Dobrynya will, your majesty. However, Ilya is peasant-born himself. He would never turn his blade toward his own people."
Prince Vladimir went quiet once again. His powerful steps and the pitter-patter of the man behind him filled the castle walls until they suddenly came to a stop.
"Then kill him too."