The farmers were quietly carrying on with their lives, even after the attack, as farmers were wont to do. Even after all these years and the many wars Ezran had seen — had even started himself — their bravery never ceased to inspire him.
While he had been dealing with the demonspawn in the forest, another group had come down out of the northwest, from Castellea, and the lack of Tarithian pursuit led Ezran to believe there was trouble in the kingdom. Yet, just as King Aureus failed to send any armies out to aid Hillet during the Second Shadow, so Ezran was reluctant to send any of his men to them in return. He wasn’t entirely sure he had enough to defend his little fiefdom as it was.
The Caronine Templars were restless, and Ezran had them criss-crossing the map, picking off demonspawn raiding parties before they could strike. He allowed his commanders to ride in the open, as the akor’mari they were; they were under strict orders to let the commonfolk alone, and Ezran trusted them to do so. It would also serve to frighten the farmers away from the hotspots of battle; though they were a hardy folk, Ezran rathered they were spared from the horrors of another war, so soon after the first. While they might be tempted to go after a hogher, they would stay away from a band that had all the looks of a akor’mar raiding party of old.
After all, that’s what the Caronine Templars were, underneath their new faith.
Thoughts of Sirith still tugged at him, but he found little time to attend to him. Fordrellon was adamant to keep up the hunt, and though he held misgivings in his heart, Ezran let him go. It was utilitarian: putting the good of the fiefdom before that of his own kin. Many times he had made that decision in the past, only to regret it; he hoped beyond foolish hope it would prove different this time.