Ten Thousand Uniforms

Since the siege began, Aron had kept his shop’s shutters only half open. Cloth was scarce, and customers even scarcer. That morning, two soldiers appeared at his door. One placed a sealed order on the counter. “Orders from the palace. Every tailor in the city is to make ten thousand uniforms within three days.” Aron scanned the list. “Ten thousand? We don’t have that many soldiers.” The soldier said nothing. Aron pulled the paper closer when he noticed the crest in the drawing. “This isn’t our uniform.” The soldier turned toward the door. “Those are the orders.”