THE NEXT DAY…
The sun rays that streamed through the open window kissed every thing it touched with a warm golden glow. Stacks of ledgers, shipping manifests, and letters from merchants were arranged in neat piles on his large desk. The head worker of the main production floor stood before him, his facial expression deep with worry.
"Your Grace," the man said, his voice grave. "We are critically short on workers for the next batch of production. Five of them have gone on leave just this morning due to a mild spreading illness. And if you add those numbers to the ones that went home yesterday, and the day before that, the total is increasing. The number of available workers is dwindling fast."
Eric leaned back in his chair and rubbed the spot between his eyebrows where a headache was beginning to form. He looked at the worried man before him. Panic would solve nothing. He needed a clear, logical solution.
