Malia: (...) "These dogs have gone too far," (...) "They stole three barrels, by reports," (...) "You know these beasts and their moves better than I," Malia said, pausing to turn toward her fellow noble. "Will they play the short game, or the long? Is it likely that they already have a target in mind? Perhaps one nearby?" Several large estates, factories, farms, and more, in both their duchies fit that category, situated along the border.
James had reached up with both arms to assist the Duchess from the saddle. Her smile warmed something inside him, not a heart, but something old and dangerous like a hibernating serpent. He merely grunted about the information about the barrels of powder. It had been a daring risk and three was more than enough, it was the magic number as some like to say.
"Marcus is cunning enough to play either, but in this case I believe it will be shorter. His band tends to travel light to remain hidden in the shadows" the Duke replied tersely. His brow was furrowed deeply in thought, "Not an estate... something more effective at weakening our realms". James let his fingers stroke the green armor he wore idly.
"Perhaps the forges that the borders, something of that nature to slow manufacturing our defenses?" he said rubbing his chin. The Northeast borders made the finest armor and swords with the exception of a regions' most skilled artisans. Bombing farmland could effectively starve a population, but it also turned farmers and hunters against the Marauders, who sometimes depended on the help of sympathizers.
James gave a wry smile, if Marcus knew the legend of the witch of the East and his heart he would say the enchanted forest as a possible target. But his wolves and men often sought refuge in the danger of the living green canopy. Castile turned his face upward curiously and narrowed his eyes at the Northern castle's famous high tower. Malia's private sanctuary... and all it's books.
"Perhaps they would seek to destroy the knowledge to defeat them".