"Winter... fishing grounds?" Luke froze, then immediately caught on. "You mean fishing through holes cut in the ice? We usually do that."
"More or less." Louis nodded. "But I have a few improvements in mind."
He took out a map and pointed at several tributaries, choosing his words as he explained his ideas:
"Prioritize the lower stretches where the current is slow and the water takes longer to freeze.
First, cut holes in the ice, then reinforce the edges with thick planks and stones to keep them from collapsing.
Then set nets beneath the ice and use small fish and scraps of meat to bait the area. Set up small posts where fishermen can take shifts, hauling in the catch once each morning and evening.
You can also dig drainage channels to bring in runoff from hot springs or geothermal water. Every bit of warmth helps. Don't let the fish freeze to death.
Of course, these are just my ideas. I'll leave the actual work to you. You don't have to follow my suggestions, as long as you can catch more fish."
"Yes! I'll give it everything I have!" Luke thumped his chest. "If this really works, the whole Red Tide Fief will have meat all winter!"
"That's an exaggeration, but even a few dozen pounds a day is better than nothing," Louis replied evenly.
Luke left after acknowledging the order, rapidly sketching something in his notebook while muttering, "My lord is a genius."
Though the first snow had yet to fall, the Red Tide Fief's campaign to stockpile food for winter had already opened its second line of defense.
The sky was oppressively dark, and wind howled through the ruined rooftops, stirring the charred ashes across the ground.
Ian knelt inside a dilapidated house, holding the unconscious Mia