"The roads of the duchy are no longer safe. Raiding parties appear at every wooded stretch. Nor can we even be certain that the couriers have gotten through to Dweros." He shook his head.
"I, of course, am loyal to the Duke. But my forces are few. My barony has been a peaceful community, having little need for arms."
Meinora smiled encouragingly. "Yet there are fighters here," he said, "and in plenty."
The Baron looked at him curiously. "Where? I have no knowledge of such."
Konar leaned forward. "If you can help us get the Duke's approval, we can raise an army which ten Bel Menstals would fail to withstand."
"The Duke's approval?"
"Certainly." Konar waved his hand. "Look over your walls, Excellency. You have burghers. There are armorers, merchants, with their caravan guards, artisans, even peasants. Here, today, are gathered more able-bodied men than Bel Menstal could raise, were he to search out and impress all the hill tribes."
"But, to arm these Commoners? And would they fight?"
"To be sure. Given reason, they will fight like madmen."
Meinora leaned forward, speaking rapidly. "For long years, they have suffered from the road and river taxes of Bel Menstal, as well as from the insults and blows of his officers. Many of them have been imprisoned, and held for ruinous ransom. Others have been tortured and killed. Under the serf, they would suffer additional taxes, until they were driven from the land, or themselves reduced to serfdom and even slavery." He waved at the town.