“How do you know it wasn’t just a normal goblin?” Cartek asked.

“Knight Halvard killed it himself. It also noticed our presence while hidden with my [Shadow] mark in the night.”

Cartek winced. All three silver fist knight commanders had great respect for Halvard. He was just as experienced as them. His decisions and judgements taken seriously unlike a baby of Adrian’s age.

The leaders of the other orders began to quietly curse. Others tried to question Adrian over each other. Twenty or so shouting voices at the same time. It was clear they doubted his words or didn’t know who Halvard was. Adrian attributed it to praying that this wasn’t the truth and that the Hrafnung has simply made a mistake. That would save a ton of lives, including the knights.

“It’s the truth,” Adrian said in response to all the questions. He sat down unwilling to defend himself like a criminal at court.

A knight commander wearing yellow armor stood up. Everyone became quiet. White hair graced his hair, completely coloring it. Adrian knew he was the eldest knight in the entire fort. A relic of a by gone era. But he could never recall his name. All he knew it began with L. Or something of that nature, having miraculously escaped a catastrophe of some kind at a much younger age.

“Lord Sterkhander,” His words were slow. Enunciating every single letter. “That would be troublesome. Their numbers, they are staggering. And now led by sound tactical minds.”

“Are you questioning our abilities, Elder? Let them come with a hundred-fold their numbers! We shall stand strong!” He wore bright red armor. Angry sigil of fangs.

Many began to chime in to give their opinions on the matter. Hoping to contribute to the whole and get noticed by Magnus. In other parts, arguments erupted in the room. Theories on the best possible move forward were debated by Knight Commanders citing different books and battles as references. Everyone was well thought out.

While everyone else had been discussing, Magnus and his Knight Commanders were silent. Watching. Listening. Allowing those that tended to not get an opportunity to voice themselves a chance to be heard. Adrian noted it down. They were learning tendencies of newer members of the meeting, hoping to find diamonds in the rough they could develop.

Adrian winced as a particularly loud knight started shouting. His voice seemed to rattle inside of Adrian’s head. Beatrix gave him a smirk. His siblings knew what to expect from the majority here, but he was still picking things up one by one.

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“Joeve,” Magnus said. The room lost all voice. As if someone had pressed the mute button. No one dared to speak up.

A normal general of the soldiers stood up. He was old. Wrinkly. In military garb with no decorations on it as if he was a recruit. A silver cap with gold designs on it was the fanciest thing he had on. He was small compared to everything in the room. Small compared to the knights around him, the table, the chairs they sat on, even the cup in front of him was not made for his size.

Joeve cleared his throat. “Magnus,” he said.

Adrian’s eyebrows rose. No one had ever called his father by his first name. It felt profane and itched at the back of his mind.

“If the tales and ancient records are true,” Joeve continued. His words were measured. Pausing to thinking after a couple. “Then we must begin tactical operations to eliminate such foes.”

The knight commanders began to grumble, quietly. Adrian was extremely curious about Joeve now. That was a type of respect not based on strength or fear. But unadulterated respect for accomplishment and ability. Any knight here could squash the old man with a finger, accidentally.

Joeve cleared his throat. “Surgical assaults against the vile cretins. We cannot afford another decade of the Hemlock Years.”

Again, whispers broke out in the meeting. But no one was loud enough for Adrian to hear, even with his enhanced senses.

Magnus nodded. He took a moment to think. Everyone waited on his final decision. The cogs of the entire fort would shift at his next words. All united under his command. There was no space for anyone that did not fall in line.

“Galant,” Magnus said. “Prepare our forces. Surgical operations. Rid us of this menace and the orcs of any leadership. Then we can break them on the battlefield. .

“Yes, Lord Sterkhander.”

Galant waved his knight attendants to him. The two that entered tailing his steps hurried to his side. They had a silent discussion. A back and forth between them.

Adrian watched their interaction with keen eyes. He ignored much of the meeting and the points that came up during open discussions. Instead, he watched Galant and his knight attendants interact. Trying to learn something from it so he could better himself. One day, he too would be required to command a massive force, just because of the blood that ran in his veins.

The group he studied nodded to each other. Shook their heads occasionally, debating among themselves. One of the two was far more passionate with his gestures than the other. At some point Knight Commander Cartek joined their tiny meeting with his own knight attendants. They had moved to the far side of the room to go over details.

Cartek was only there for a few minutes, at most. He left his knights to take care of anything else needed. Instead, he returned to the meeting, striking quiet discussion with Diossius.

Adrian’s focus intermittently returned to the main discussion over the meeting. Food production updates, storages and warehouses, economic shifts in nearby fortresses, plentiful and scarce resources they needed to restock, and a hundred of other topics he had no real interest in. Even his father was mostly silent, nodding and giving some input when necessary.

They had people dedicated to these things. People trained from birth to deal with these endless issues that came up. An entire branch of their government.