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Chapter 6
17th Day, Upper Wind Month, 1 CE, 1300 Hours
Emmad Zorlu strode through the corridors of Oriculon Palace, a sense of nervousness haunting his steps. Queen Draudillon had discussed his appointment to the Royal Court as one of its Marshals the previous day, ordering him to learn what he could from Baroness Zahradnik. The chief of staff of the Sorcerous Kingdom’s forces in the Draconic Kingdom had been away for a meeting in her homeland, so today would be his first under her tutelage.
The Queen nudged him into meeting with the Baroness by ordering him to deliver the court’s newly-rendered decision to her. Beyond that, however, he wasn’t sure what else he was supposed to be doing.
As expected of Her Majesty – she uses everything that can be used…but why did Zahradnik agree to be used?
He did not understand a great many things, but obedience was paramount. Understanding would come with time.
“Zorlu!”
He looked over his shoulder.
“Carillo.”
“I think you grew five centimetres overnight,” Zoren grinned, slapping Emmad on the back. “I suppose this is a dream come true, eh?”
“I wouldn’t say that…”
Rather than a dream, Emmad felt that he was always meant to join the army. He was a son of Eastwatch: the fortress city that stood at the gates of the Oriculon Reach. The defence of the Draconic Kingdom was his heritage.
His father disapproved of his eldest aspiring to a position of command, so he was encouraged to aim for a position in the Queen’s household. Instead of challenging his father’s wishes, he went along with them, seeing it as an opportunity to learn from the Marshals of the Royal Court. Never in his wildest dreams did he believe that he would be appointed as one two years later.
“Hey now,” Zoren said. “Half of the guys aiming for the position would kill to be in your shoes. Who else was Her Majesty considering, by the way?”
“Kartal and Yilmaz, I think.”
“Hmm…I suppose I could see that. There are so many others clamouring for Marshal, though.”
That there were. Many scions felt that the burden of command in the defence of their homeland was their responsibility, so the tale of fearful fathers sending their precious sons to safety was a common one. Common, too, was the way Emmad saw the palace as an opportunity to become familiar with the army. Every one of them knew that there were only two choices for their country: fight or die. No one chose to simply die.
“No one should be ‘clamouring for Marshal’,” Emmad told him. “Leading militia around is the most any of us has ever done. If it wasn’t for the law, I would recommend that the Captains of Highfort be appointed.”
“I can’t say that I find Inserra’s account entirely believable,” Zoren said. “If men could become monsters just by fighting endlessly, our country would have an endless number of monsters.”
“Zahradnik said he wasn’t wrong.”
“Zahradnik can turn a hundred Beastmen into paste in the blink of an eye,” came Zoren’s wry response. “She may be overestimating the rest of us Humans.”
There was no point in arguing. Plenty of Adventurers thwarted Beastman raids in the past and the strength of the Theocracy’s forces could not be denied. Despite their grievous losses, the story of Highfort was an inspiration: proof that the Draconic Kingdom, too, could stand against its ancestral nemesis.
All that they needed was a fighting chance. Now, they had it.
“Hm? Hey, where are you going, Zorlu? The Sorcerous Kingdom’s rooms are the other way.”
“I should change into something more suitable. Court fashion is hardly appropriate.”
“But I only ever see Zahradnik in that nice dress of hers? Well, whatever. Let me know how it goes later.”
Zoren went ahead, waving lazily over his shoulder. Emmad returned to his room, opening his dressing cabinet. He sorted through his belongings.
The armour he had donned in the defence of the palace had been returned to the palace armoury. He had his militia officer’s uniform, but that wasn’t suitable for his new office. His mind went back to the times he had seen the Queen’s Marshals around the palace, trying to recall the details of their garb.
Emmad disrobed, changing into a darker şalvar. He stuffed them into his black leather boots. Next came a white shirt and dark sash. He tucked his hançer in front of his right hip.
He reached into the back of the cabinet, taking out his yatağan in its scabbard with its harness. He fastened the harness over his sash, leaving the sword hanging at his right hip. A brown leather vest went over his shirt and leather bracers clasped his shirt over his forearms. Last, came a long black robe that hung below the knee.
Alright.
It was probably the best he could do. He didn’t have a decent hat. Or a beard. The Marshals all had beards.
He grabbed the militia spear propped behind his door on the way out. The handful of men and women he passed all stared as he went by. Emmad did his best to ignore them.
Upon entering the corridor leading to the western end of the palace, he encountered a blonde-haired woman in the garb of a northern Maid. Nearby, four Skeletons were sweeping the floor with brooms. The woman gave his spear the barest of glances and smiled up at him.
“Is there something I can help you with?” She asked.
He frowned inwardly at her reaction. When a two-metre-tall man dressed in black came down the corridor with a spear, most women would naturally shy away. This one, however, didn’t display a shred of fear.
A furrow formed on his brow. There was a flanged mace clipped to her waist. Regardless of culture, nearly everyone wore some form of dagger for everyday purposes, but he had never heard of a Maid casually wearing a mace.
“…are you a spy?” The Maid asked.
Who in the world would randomly ask that?
The Skeletons stopped their sweeping to look at him. The Maid’s smile didn’t shift in the slightest.
“Er, no?” He answered, “Emmad Zorlu – I’ve come to see the Baroness Zahradnik by Her Majesty’s orders.”
Straw rasping over stone filled the air again.
“I see,” the Maid said. “This way please, Mister Zorlu.”
Emmad warily eyed the Skeletons as he passed between them. His steps slowed as they approached a pair of Death Knights, each guarding the door to the state rooms on either side of the corridor. The Maid turned and waited for him in front of the doors.
“I pray you to wait here while I inform my lady of your arrival.”
With that, she entered the room to the left, going straight past the spiky black tower of death without breaking stride. She reappeared a minute later.
“The Baroness will see you now.”
He followed the maid into the state room and was led to the suite’s hall. The room had been thoroughly rearranged, its rectangular tables combined in the centre and laid over with white linen. A mix of living and Undead gazes pinned him to the threshold.
“Welcome, Your Excellency,” Baroness Zahradnik said. “Her Majesty informed me of your appointment. Though our time together may be limited, I hope I can be of some assistance to you.”
“Thank you for your welcome, Baroness Zahradnik.”
Emmad lowered his head, then stopped. Was he supposed to do that? Though he felt unqualified for the role, he was still a Marshal. She was a minor Noble…or was she an officer in this case? Either way, a Marshal bowed to neither. He cleared his throat.
“Her Majesty sent me to inform you that more administrative staff will be sent to Blighthold with the next transport.”
“How many?”
“One hundred thirty,” Emmad replied.
“Her Majesty will be using the passenger barge for tomorrow’s inspection of Seagate,” Lady Zahradnik said, “so the first available trip to Blighthold will be tomorrow evening. It takes roughly twelve hours for a barge to travel from Oriculon to Blighthold, but the one we prepared for transporting officials hasn’t been furnished with beds for one hundred thirty. If they don’t mind staying awake all night, we can deliver all of them after the inspection returns.”
Since the wind went inland at night, it was common for ships to make northbound trips at that time. He nodded in response.
“That shouldn’t be a problem,” he said.
“Very well, I’ll let Countess Corelyn know so she can make the arrangements. Let’s see to their security details, shall we?”
The Baroness beckoned for him to come and join her at the table. He went to stand at the nearest side, glancing at the rows of Elder Liches to his left and right. Lady Zahradnik stood across from him with one of her Half-Elf Maids. The two children that were rumoured to follow her everywhere – even to the battlefield – were there too.
He leaned his spear against the table. The Maid from before carried it away.
“For future reference,” Lady Zahradnik told him, “Carrying battlefield weapons around in urban areas for no discernible reason is usually considered a nuisance.”
His ears coloured at her reprimand. He already knew that. Why did he carry a spear with him around the palace?
Emmad examined the others present at the table. The Half-Elf Maid was in the same type of uniform as the other Maid. The boy to her right was wearing a simple pair of pants and an unassuming short-sleeved shirt. The girl had a slightly more fashionable blouse, but it wouldn’t be out of place for any village girl to wear vestments of similar quality. All three of them had daggers visible on their person, but nothing else.
Lady Zahradnik had no visible armament at all. As Zoren had mentioned, she was dressed in the militant equestrian attire she always appeared in when attending an audience with the Queen.
The Baroness examined Emmad curiously. He resisted the urge to shift under her scrutiny.
“I thought the Nobles of the Draconic Kingdom were appointed to positions of broad command,” she said.
“We are,” he replied.
“If that’s the case, why did you bring a spear with you?”
He sent a confused look back at Lady Zahradnik.
“Should a Commander not be armed?”
“To clarify,” Baroness Zahradnik said, “there are normally two types of Commanders: those that lead from the front are categorised as ‘Captains’. Those who issue orders to armies – usually from positions where they can see what’s going on across the battlefield – are categorised as ‘Commanders’. I assumed that, since the Draconic Kingdom appoints Nobles as Generals and Marshals, you would be one of the latter.”
“…I don’t understand. I read that officers elsewhere start as Sergeants and rise through the ranks to become Commanders.”
“That’s true in other countries with standing armies,” she admitted. “But it doesn’t have to be that way. I thought that the Draconic Kingdom understood this because of the laws they have in place. Captains are drawn from the pool of promising Sergeants, who are in turn drawn from the common population. Captains and Sergeants are exposed to the greatest risk and would thus require a large pool of candidates to replace them with. Nobles are rare by comparison so the army would want to keep them relatively safe and give them time to develop. Nobles being Commanders follow that line of thought.”
That was the rationale given, but it generated some resentment. Some saw the appointment of Nobles to command positions as undeserved. Emmad agreed with that sentiment, but, at the same time, the law must have existed for good reason else the Queen would have instituted reforms.
“Then you’re saying that I’m doing it wrong?” He asked, “That I shouldn’t be training for personal combat?”
“The answer is complicated,” Lady Zahradnik answered. “No…the answer is simple, but regional culture has complicated it. Perhaps ‘corrupted’ is the better term. Somewhere along the way, people started conflating one’s role with one’s position in the hierarchy. This led to the idea that Sergeants become Captains, who in turn become Commanders. Then those Commanders become Generals.”
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“So, using the ‘simple answer’, I should be a Captain since I feel that I should stand with my men in battle. Except…I’ve never heard of a Marshal being a Captain. They are always Generals.”
“Again, that is a part of what I mentioned. Rank is being conflated with role. If you are an excellent Captain, you are an excellent Captain. It does not make you an excellent General.”
The Baroness placed a hand on her breast.
“For instance, I am a Captain. I am also the chief of staff of the Sorcerous Kingdom’s forces in the Draconic Kingdom. If it were the Empire, I would be considered a General. The Sorcerous Kingdom, however, is not plagued by erroneous cultural distinctions. I am the chief of staff because I hold the highest position of authority. This has nothing to do with my role as Captain. I serve as a Captain while my Commanders serve as Commanders. We have Generals at home that assist us with strategic planning. Everyone functions in the role that they are best suited for.”
He wasn’t sure if that made sense, but the Sorcerous Kingdom was clearly doing something right if it had such spectacular strength at its disposal.
“Furthermore,” Lady Zahradnik said, “I think it would be good to have a Captain as a Marshal.”
“Why is that?”
“Representation. Barriers in the chain of command can blind one to possibilities and avenues of thought. A court full of Generals is very far away from the front lines of battle. In the Draconic Kingdom, this is exacerbated by the fact that Nobles can be distant from the common folk and everything in your country is rigid out of necessity.”
Was that how other countries saw them? He supposed that was probably the case. In the Draconic Kingdom, processes were optimised to keep the country from falling behind in the endless cycle of raids and predation. Excessive deliberations, insubordination and decisions that wasted resources would invariably get everyone killed.
“Then I will aim to be a Captain,” Emmad said. “I’ve always felt that is what I should be.”
“In that case,” Lady Zahradnik said, “I will do my best to guide Your Excellency along that path. A word of caution, however…”
He looked up with a question on his face.
“Captains must be strong,” the Baroness told him. “A relatively weak Commander can manage with strong Captains under them, but it doesn’t work the other way around. Just as a Sergeant is the pillar of a squad, a Captain is the pillar of a company. If a company shatters because that pillar is weak, it is a great deal of trouble for a Commander.”
“I understand.”
“Your Excellency does not,” Lady Zahradnik smirked. “But you will, eventually. Now, let’s see to what Her Majesty sent you over for, shall we? The Royal Court insists on keeping most of its domestic matters to itself, but we can’t have that here. We need to know how Her Majesty plans to deploy her officials and what sort of schedule they’ll be keeping.”
Emmad looked down at the map on the table. He tried to keep his eyes from wandering between all the markers as he focused on the northwestern corner.
“Originally,” he said, “The Royal Court planned on sending four Nobles to Blighthold along with four Clerks from the Merchant Guild. Two of the Nobles would be based in the city and the other two would be stationed in each of the towns in the province. The province is small: only about three thousand square kilometres. Each village tends to roughly ten square kilometres of land each. There are three hundred villages north of Blighthold, plus the city and the two towns. And Highfort.”
“The sheer number of villages and their size in the Draconic Kingdom is still something I can’t get used to. Your lands must be astonishingly productive.”
“Shouldn’t it be the same in the north?” Emmad asked, “The population of Re-Estize is over nine million and the Baharuth Empire is not far behind.”
“You’re right,” the Baroness answered. “I haven’t been to the heartlands of Re-Estize, but villages in the Empire do manage about the same amount of land as you mentioned. The Duchy of E-Rantel has a lot of frontier and my territory is still mostly undeveloped.”
Lady Zahradnik cleared her throat and focused on the map again.
“So Her Majesty is deploying one hundred thirty Nobles to expedite reorganisation and give them practical experience? After that…who will be left behind to manage things, Your Excellency? I’m afraid I know little about how the Draconic Kingdom’s provincial administration works.”
His thoughts went back to his lessons as a child, most of which had to do with memorising the country’s political and economic processes. The Draconic Kingdom was highly regimented due to the realities of living with Beastman neighbours. From what he knew of the highly-stable northern nations, the Baroness would likely be unfamiliar with several key points.
“Unlike the cities of the northern countries,” Emmad said, “every city in the Draconic Kingdom is a free city under the Crown. Each is managed by administrative staff appointed to it by Her Majesty. The number depends on the size and population of the province, but, in our current situation, it would be the four originally assigned to the city.”
“What about the rest of the province?”
“Each Barony has five villages. Each County is composed of five Baronies, one of which is directly managed by the Count. The Counts live in the towns and cities…or at least they used to. Two Counts had manors in Blighthold while there were five Counts in each of the towns. Also, the General of Highfort serves both as the garrison’s chief of staff and as the lord of the fortress and its territories.”
In hindsight, sending four Nobles to do the work of sixty was insane. The ones they had sent to Blighthold would probably be weeping in relief when the others arrived.
“So in all,” Lady Zahradnik tapped her chin lightly with her index finger, “there are twelve Counts, forty-eight Barons and one military governor. The fact that they must also serve as military governors makes it essential for Commanders to be appointed from the nobility…what about the city’s administrative staff?”
“Spares from the local houses,” Emmad replied.
“And the household staff of each Noble?”
“Senior household staff are the spares of other houses. Junior staff are usually commoners or senior staff for the next generation.”
The tapping finger stopped. A furrow appeared on the Baroness’ brow.
“…how many siblings do you have?”
“Three brothers and five sisters.”
“Is that normal for families in the Draconic Kingdom?” Lady Zahradnik asked.
“For Noble families, yes,” Emmad nodded. “Rural families usually have around four to six children, depending where they are.”
“That would be a nightmare in the north,” the Baroness said. “People would be constantly feuding over inheritance.”
“The Beastmen are constantly eating us, so…”
“That’s right, isn’t it? I apologise, Your Excellency – I was thinking of things in terms customary to the north. Up there, families – regardless of social strata – only have as many children as they require to inherit. It’s usually the eldest son, the backup son and the rest are undesirable extras.”
“If we only did that much,” Emmad said, “we’d be rapidly eaten out of existence.”
“Redundancy after redundancy after redundancy,” Lady Zahradnik murmured. “Everyone has a large family because you expect to be eaten at some point. Nobles scatter their scions everywhere as reserve administrators to replace inevitable losses. Commanders are Nobles because martial Nobles are natural Commanders and can be quickly replaced from that reserve, plus they possess the skills necessary to serve as governors. The free cities serve as hubs from which recovery can be rapidly facilitated. Lines of authority are all within one or two steps of the Queen. The Draconic Kingdom is full of survival mechanisms evolved from its relationship with the Beastman country.”
“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”
“I think it’s a good thing, Your Excellency. I’ve seen what happens when the opposite is true; when countries are allowed to ignore the realities of the world. The problem is that the Draconic Kingdom may follow in the footsteps of one of those countries soon.”
“What do you mean by that?” Emmad asked.
“When security is treated as a given, other problems may rise to the fore. Complacency; decadence; internal strife and corruption. Priorities shift and society decays because people are allowed to rest on their laurels. I can only pray that Queen Oriculus is capable of leading your country through those problems.”
Lady Zahradnik drew up missives for the Captains of the Highfort garrison, detailing the security needs of the Nobles who would arrive at Blighthold. After that, her attention went across the Seylan River.
“We’re going to need to perform extra sweeps.”
“I think so too, Captain,” the Half-Elf Maid said.
“Does that mean Blighthold isn’t safe?” Emmad frowned.
“Our advance up until the Seylan River was very thorough about ensuring the lands were clear, Your Excellency,” Lady Zahradnik replied. “The problem is that the Beastmen across the Seylan chose to flee rather than fight. We had to rush ahead and get rid of them before they started overrunning villages in their flight.”
Emmad examined the familiar map filled with unfamiliar markers. There was a ‘front line’ advancing steadily southeast, which he assumed were the Sorcerous Kingdom’s forces. Ahead of them were a few scattered markers up to the River Ors.
“You’ve retaken Orsfort,” his gaze fixed on the fortress east of Highfort. “How many men did you find there?”
“I’m sorry, Your Excellency,” the Baroness said. “Orsfort was empty when we arrived. The Beastmen tribes in the vicinity appear to have long moved on.”
He quietly nodded. The court was hoping for another miracle akin to Highfort, but it was an unrealistic expectation. His eyes followed the river to its estuary.
“What is all this at Orsport?”
“The Beastmen are struggling to cross the river,” Lady Zahradnik said. “Word of the Undead reached the clanholds there through Beastmen fleeing down the coastal highway, but the river is two kilometres wide at its mouth. The ferry can only get so many across at a time and the river doesn’t narrow to a more reasonable width until one journeys thirty kilometres inland.”
Baroness Zahradnik took the thin rod and pointed at the area across the river. A number of large markers were clustered near the city of Helama.
“My general staff believes that the Beastmen are preparing to make their stand here,” she said. “At least the Beastmen in the provinces surrounding the city. If we don’t press the issue, they’ll have consolidated their numbers in roughly a week.”
“How many Beastmen are there?”
“Current estimates place their numbers between seventy and eighty thousand.”
Emmad swallowed. That was twice as many Beastmen as had laid siege to the capital.
“Can you win?”
“It’s not so much whether we can win or not, but the manner in which we win. I was hoping I could lean on any knowledge you have of past battles in and around your cities before we settle on our battle plan.”
Lady Zahradnik nodded to one of the Elder Liches. The Undead mage produced a map and unfurled it over a free section of the table. The Elder Liches nearby took a step back and floated into the air as Lady Zahradnik and the other living members of her staff went to stand over the map. Emmad went over as well, trying to ignore the unsettling feeling of the Elder Liches looking down from above.
The map portrayed the city of Helama, though it didn’t look like a map from the palace archives. He frowned at the level of detail, which included labels for the different quarters, important buildings, the names of the streets and even notes on the city’s fortifications.
“Where is this map from?” He asked.
“I made it this morning, Your Excellency,” Lady Zahradnik answered. “Since the audience with Her Majesty was cancelled, I took the opportunity to fly over and take a look at what was going on. The Elder Liches added labels for the features by cross-referencing maps of the city from the archives.”
Several questions over national security rose in his mind over her claim. A large part of a defender’s advantages lay in attacking parties’ unfamiliarity with the land. In a single morning, Lady Zahradnik had simply flown over and created a map of one of their major cities. Presumably, anyone with access to flight magic or flying mounts would be able to do this, yet he had never heard or read of any army doing so.
“Is reconnaissance like this common?” Emmad asked.
“I know that the Baharuth Empire does this, at least,” the Baroness replied. “We’ve been unchallenged in the air over the Draconic Kingdom thus far, so we are assuming that the Beastman invaders are unaware of this capability. What they appear to know about what’s going on and how they react to it is consistent with the idea that they aren’t employing any divination magic or aerial assets.”
“If you already know so much,” he said, “what do you need from me?”
“First would be any clues as to how Helama will react to the buildup of Beastmen. There were three clanholds around the city before our arrival. Right now, it looks like those Beastmen are moving to occupy the city. We would like to get rid of all these clans at once, but we also need to consider the well-being of the citizens.”
“I thought you told the Queen that the idea that your army is an ‘Undead horde’ makes it so that the Beastmen don’t retaliate by attacking the citizens.”
“It does,” Lady Zahradnik told him. “The problem is that sixty thousand Beastmen in one place means that a lot of Humans are going to be eaten in that one place. We’ve been harrying them so that they can’t hunt properly, but they’ll have the opportunity to when they gather around Helama. One of the Generals back in the Sorcerous Kingdom suggests that it may become a ‘double siege’.”
“A double siege?”
“The rationale uses the invaders’ observed behaviours so far. Helama and its surrounding provinces have been claimed by these three clans. There are an additional three clans’ worth of Beastmen coming in, threatening their already limited food supply. To defend that food supply, the General proposes that the ‘host’ clanholds will move into the city and bar the gates. The towns and villages in the area will also see the same actions taken, but those settlements don’t have the same defences as a city.”
“So one set of Beastmen will be acting to defend Humans from being eaten by other Beastmen so they can eat them later?”
A slight smile crossed the Baroness’ features.
“I admit that it sounds strange, but if you categorise Humans as ‘livestock’ it becomes one party protecting their property from another. Much like how Humans might protect their livestock against Demihuman raiders.”
“Does that mean they’ll start to fight one another over resources?”
“I don’t know,” Lady Zahradnik replied. “A part of the reason why we’re allowing them to gather like this is to find out. This entire campaign so far hasn’t been about winning or losing. It’s been about testing the physical, mental and societal limits of the species of Beastmen occupying the Draconic Kingdom. Now, we want to find where the line between order and chaos resides.”
Emmad looked back down at the map again. Dozens of settlements would be exposed to the ‘experiment’ that Baroness Zahradnik was conducting. Considering that the Draconic Kingdom had been helpless to begin with, however, he knew he had no right to protest.
“Your forces are so powerful that none of this is required,” he said. “Why not crush them and be done with it? Thousands of men, women and children will die while you collect the information that you desire.”
“Because we can’t.”
He frowned at the noblewoman’s response.
“You can’t? Did you not kill forty thousand Beastmen in a matter of hours with a single infantry company when you arrived in the capital?”
“I did,” Lady Zahradnik said, “but the circumstances are not the same. The battle of Oriculon consisted of securing the city’s gates and destroying the Beastmen trapped inside the city’s walls. Here, we’ll have eighty thousand Beastmen scattered around the exterior of Helama. To ‘crush’ them – not simply scatter them – we need to position our forces to keep them from escaping. That deployment takes time, so we are making the best use of that time.”
The Baroness took her pointer and reached over to indicate the provinces north of Oriculon.
“Tonight, we’ll be mobilising the infantry company that has been stationed around the capital since we arrived. That includes the tens of thousands of Undead created out of the capital’s invaders. One of the cavalry squads will join them, as well. They’ll be destroying every Beastman tribe up to fifty kilometres north of the Oriculon River. At the same time, they will encircle the Beastmen south of Helama and push them towards the city.”
“The way you say it,” a trace of anger rose in his voice, “this could have been done at any time.”
“We could have attacked them at any time, yes,” Lady Zahradnik said. “But, as with everything, we must consider the bigger picture. In the beginning, we knew nearly nothing about these Beastmen. We still know comparatively little. Going in headfirst entailed too many unknown risks – both to your citizens and the long-term outlook of the campaign. Now, we are in a position to be aggressive because we’ve discerned what risks appear to be nonexistent and have mostly neutralised the rest.”
Despite her rationale, it still felt wrong. She had the strength to act immediately, but instead chose to study her target like a predator stalking their prey. In that time, tens of thousands of the Draconic Kingdom’s citizens had probably been eaten.
“What about Helama?” He asked, “If three Beastman clans shut themselves in with the citizens, the population will be decimated in no time.”
Three whole clans was around thirty thousand Beastmen. If each ate one Human every two weeks, the time that the battle and its preparations would take would see most of the city consumed.
“It will take time for those clans to arrive in the city,” the Baroness said, “so it won’t happen as quickly as you think. Volunteers from the Balik Family, as well as local collaborators in Helama, will be helping to preempt that. Additionally, we’ll be bringing in some of our own specialists as insurance.”