He was troubled by this remark. ‘Have we been so blind; so very wrong?’
‘I believe,’ she said, not looking at him, ‘that by our conduct, our fate is assured, whatever that fate may be.’
The Thane was deeply troubled in his mind as he juggled the various uncertainties which were the only tools available for him to work with. The very thought of leaving Mirrindale, the most easily defended city in the Elven Kingdom, made absolutely no military sense. The rich Merchant class would never hear of it; they would lose everything. They supported the army, and the army protected the city. Everything would be thrown into chaos.
On the other hand, the Thane was only too aware that this same Merchant class was in their way responsible for much of the decay that threatened the Elf Kingdom itself. There were few of them he could trust, for they relied on him only insofar as he protected their assets. Few of them gave a thought to the farmer or soldier, without whom they would still be living in the deep forest, like the Pixies and Nymphs.
In the end, he decided to send a small exodus, perhaps five hundred or so of those who were willing. They would depart under the pretence that they would form a colony far to the East, in case the Elf Kingdom collapsed entirely and the Goblin hordes swept down from the north.