At night, the dazzling light of the Great Star of Hope shone in the sky, signaling that dawn was near.
Allen lay on the hard bedboards, tossing and turning all night, unable to sleep peacefully. Whenever he closed his eyes, harrowing images would often surface in his mind.
Flames, blood, bodies strewn across the ground, weeping children, elderly people, women, and children bound in chains, and the arrogant laughter of the Easterlings filled Allen with mounting anxiety. He kept trying to think of something he could do to spare the besieged Northmen their tragic fate.
Throughout the night, Allen repeatedly tallied the forces at his disposal, hoping to spare some soldiers to rescue the besieged Ironwall Town. Unfortunately, no matter how carefully he calculated, he could not muster much of a reserve to save those people.
Heidelberg occupied a crucial position. Seven hundred of Allen's soldiers were stationed there, along with more than three hundred militia Hank and the others had assembled. These thousand-odd men had to guard against the Easterling tribe now living in Red River Town, lest the enemy drive straight through and attack the civilians still working in the fields.
In fact, even this force was insufficient. Without the thousand Woodland Elves Thranduil had sent to the Mirkwood Mountains, Allen might have recruited more militia from his territory to defend the place, even at the cost of delaying the farmwork.
But they were all newcomers to Wilderness Town who had received no military training, and Allen lacked enough weapons and equipment to arm them. Under such circumstances, sending them onto the battlefield against the vicious Easterlings would be little different from throwing their lives away.
Given a choice, Allen would never do that. Even those heartless Western politicians had allowed recruits a month of training before sending