Arthur listened in silence. In this situation, Evelyn was right; mobilization could not be canceled, otherwise, chaos would surely ensue.
He had been somewhat immersed in the joy of external victories and everything going smoothly, thinking that the more refugees he brought back, the better, as they would be future laborers and soldiers.
However, he overlooked the most crucial issue: the territory's carrying capacity.
He took a deep breath, letting the cold air of the valley fill his lungs to clear his muddled mind. It seemed the victory in war was merely the beginning.
How to digest these fruits of victory afterward, transform them into the territory's strength, and how to govern this land and these numerous refugees, that was the more difficult war.
The confusion in his eyes dissipated, replaced by sharpness and determination: "I understand and know."
He turned to Brin: "You go back to the Lions Den first."
"Relay my order: gather all core members—Evelyn, Olivier, and the three of you—for an emergency meeting tonight in the Lions Den."
After speaking, he no longer looked at anyone, flipping onto his horse with swift, decisive movements.
"Tell Evelyn!"
His voice carried on the wind as his warhorse neighed loudly and galloped towards the Lions Den.
"I'm back!"
In the council hall of the Lions Den, the air was still, and everyone looked at their lord, Lord Arthur.
Arthur propped his forehead with his hand; the fatigue of the journey and the bad news that followed his return immediately dispelled the joy he had finally begun to savor.
Olivier's thin fingers traced the dense numbers on his small notebook, his voice hoarse: "Lord Arthur, even if we reclaim surplus land from our old liegemen and re-measure and redistribute it, there are still one thousand one hundred thirty-seven families who won't receive even a small plot of land."
"But we can first reclaim some land and proceed..."
Arthur interrupted him: "I will not reclaim the land of liegemen who fought for me."
"All of them have contributed, even if a large portion of them failed to take an enemy's head."
Olivier sighed. He knew Lord Arthur would say that. He closed his small notebook with a dull thud: "The refugee camp is already overflowing. People are packed together like ants, eating, drinking, and relieving themselves nearby. This isn't just a land issue."
Evelyn took over, her azure eyes looking at Arthur filled with worry: "It's a food issue."
"And security."
"The provisions in the granary can last for at most half a month to a month. Our daily consumption of food is an astonishing figure, with only expenditure and no return, and it's constantly increasing."
"Theft happens every day. Last night, two refugees broke each other's heads with stones over half a piece of black bread."
Hakon, who had remained in the territory to maintain order, felt this deeply and also looked solemn: "The old liegemen are full of hostility towards the newcomers. They complain that their living environment has been destroyed, that the newcomers are a burden, only creating chaos and bloody incidents, and that they've taken away their homes in the villages below High Mountain."
"And the newcomers, their eyes hold nothing but bewilderment and despair."
Lucien sat to the side, having remained silent. Now he merely grunted dully; his mind couldn't process too much.
Arthur raised his head, his gaze sweeping over everyone. He saw the anxiety in their eyes and felt the invisible pressure.
He stood up and walked to the large map of his territory, drawn by Evelyn, hanging on the wall.
Arthur spoke, his voice not loud, yet exceptionally clear: "We cannot concentrate the refugees in one place anymore."
"Keep the soldiers in a state of war."
He pointed his finger on the map, tracing from the Lions Den in the center of the map to Kings Road in the west.
"Six hundred people, here, build a town."
His finger then traced to the bank of the Green Fork River in the west.
"Here, build another town, also housing six hundred people."
Olivier's eyes lit up for a moment, thinking of town commerce, but then dimmed again: "My Lord, this can indeed divert the population."
"But..."
"Building two new towns will not only consume building materials but also incur more expenses and upkeep, serving no other purpose, as the townspeople will have no land to cultivate..."
Arthur interrupted him, a curve on his lips that others couldn't understand: "It will be useful!"
"It's just not visible yet."
"Oh, right!"
"The remaining six hundred people, divide them into two groups of three hundred, to raise rabbits."
Evelyn finally spoke, her face full of confusion, as she didn't know Arthur's previous plans: "Raise rabbits?"
Arthur turned to face everyone: "On the road, Brin and his brothers caught seventeen wild rabbits."
"Divide them into two groups, three hundred people per group, and establish two large rabbit farms."
"Rabbits breed quickly and grow fast. Their meat can be eaten, and their fur can be sold."
He knew that rabbit meat couldn't become the staple food for everyone, but in this quasi-medieval world where meat was scarce, it was hard currency. Even nobles would buy it. He could sell cured rabbit meat to passing merchant caravans, or even sell it at a low price to the common people in King's Landing.
Most importantly, he had to separate the refugees, find them different forms of labor, and prevent them from continuing to cause trouble.
And those rabbit pelts and rabbit fur could be given to the people in the towns for processing to earn wages, turning into warm gloves and hats, and becoming another export commodity.
Arthur had a headache. This alone couldn't completely offset the costs; he still had to find other self-sufficient methods to generate output.
"We cannot just think about consumption; we must generate our own blood."
"Use every possible means!"
Arthur's gaze finally rested on Olivier: "I need someone to buy grain."
"And not just a little, but as much as possible: grain, chickens, ducks, livestock, seeds... everything we can buy with money."
Olivier didn't hesitate for a moment. He stood up, straightening his thin back: "Leave it to me, Lord Arthur. I know where to find sellers."
Arthur turned to the beautiful woman with golden hair who had blackened herself: "Evelyn, no matter how much it costs, you are responsible for mobilizing funds to cooperate with him."
If it weren't absolutely necessary, Arthur really didn't want to send people on long journeys anymore. Travel in Westeros was simply too terrifying. He had sent out two people.
Bronn had disappeared, and the treasurer Barna, that loyal beggar-archer whom he had sent out, was still missing without a trace. He didn't know if he was dead or alive, or what had happened.
Olivier thought for a moment; he still had to say what he hadn't finished. He spoke again: "Lord Arthur, the townspeople still have no land to cultivate, no output whatsoever, and are entirely dependent on your support."
"And the rabbit farms won't have any output in the short term. Right now, every day in the territory is pure consumption."
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