Page 87 of Silver & Smoke
‘We could split up,’ Kipp suggested before dawn the next morning. ‘The bulk of our forces can continue on to the meeting point, while a smaller unit lures the enemy after us into the ravine...’
‘And the roses? Who takes that supply?’ Wren asked.
‘We split it between the two, so we’re not completely without should anything happen,’ Cal ventured. ‘We are playing the bait, after all...’
Wren watched as Torj weighed up his options and the advice of his friends.
‘Lord Lucian,’ he said at last, turning to the man he despised above all else, ‘take our forces and continue on the planned route. Make it look like that’s still our primary objective.’ Next, his gaze found his childhood friend. ‘Lord Darian, you’d best come with us, to ensure your bride’s safety. I’ll lead our small party through the ravine.’
‘Absolutely not. Elwren comes with us,’ Lord Lucian said. ‘I will not have my future daughter-in-law used as bait like a worm on a hook.’
‘I’m afraid we need the storm wielders at our disposal, Lord Lucian,’ Kipp interjected smoothly. ‘If we mean to eliminate the force behind us, we’ll need their power, as I’m sure you understand.’
A vein pulsed in Lucian’s temple as he glared at the strategist before Darian led him away, following Torj’s orders.
The smaller company moved forwards at a steady pace while they waited for Cal and Zavier to return from their scouting mission. Wren kept glancing back the way they’d come, trying not to think about what would happen if her friends didn’t make it back.
It wasn’t until hours later that Cal’s voice carried ahead of him. ‘Incoming!’ He and Zavier drove their horses hard towards the company, faces grim. ‘At least a hundred soldiers on our tail, well-armed, moving in formation,’ Cal reported.
Wren tried to gauge the Warswords’ reactions. A hundred men against their fifty... She was no military expert, but at a guess, she’d say they were at a disadvantage.
‘How far?’ Torj demanded.
‘Quarter of a league, maybe less,’ Zavier replied, pulling his mount up beside Wren’s. ‘They’re not trying to hide any more.’
‘Any sign of our scouts?’ Wren asked.
Cal shook his head. ‘None.’
‘Shit,’ Torj muttered, his jaw tightening. ‘I was hoping to avoid conflict so soon, but if we can eliminate even one portion of Silas’s force, we should take the opportunity. The ravine is the best option. We’ll be able to draw them into the narrows and pick them off one by one. They have the numbers, but the location is perfect, and we have Warswords and alchemists among us.’
It felt wrong to move at the same unhurried pace as before when they knew there was an enemy plot in motion behind them. But they had to act as though they were unaware, as though they were simply marching towards the capital, relying on the prestige of their force as a deterrent.
‘Do you think they plan to attack?’ Wren asked Torj. ‘Wouldyou, in their position? They’ll want to take advantage of us being outnumbered, won’t they?’
‘We are outnumbered, yes,’ the Warsword said. ‘But with a smaller force like ours, we have the ability to move faster, adapt, change formations... We got our supply wagons, heavy siege weaponry and half the silvertide away from the fight.’ Torj looked thoughtful. ‘We have no idea what sort of skill set the unit behind us has. They could be seasoned warriors, or simply farmers who were recruited into the People’s Vanguard. Something tells me Silas would have no issue sacrificing either.’
‘You’re right about that,’ Zavier interjected, his expression grim. ‘And Silas’s tactics are as much about mind games as combat manoeuvres. He knew the value of emotional warfare even as a child.’
‘How so?’ Wren asked, watching her friend’s shoulders cave inwards.
‘When we were young, it was always me, Silas and our friend Otis. We did everything together – played, attended my mother’s lessons, and Otis’s father taught us how to fence... He even gifted us matching wooden swords. We were only little, and one day Silas came down with a fever, as children do, leaving me to play with Otis for the week. We thought nothing of it, only that we missed our friend and that three was the perfect number for so many of our games. But when Silas recovered and returned to us, he was different – surly. Not long after, my wooden sword was found splintered into pieces... Silas told me that Otis had done it.’
‘And you believed him?’ Wren said.
‘I was a child. And he was my brother,’ Zavier replied sadly.
Wren wanted to hug her friend. She could hear the pain in his voice. ‘What happened to Otis?’
‘I told my parents what he’d supposedly done. They told his parents... and his father beat the daylights out of him in the street.’ Zavier’s voice was hoarse. ‘Of course, it wasn’t until much later that I realized it had been Silas. That he’d done it out of jealousy. And that he’d stood by, watching Otis’s thrashing without a care in the world.’
A shiver raked down Wren’s spine. ‘Gods...’
‘So, yes.’ Zavier straightened in his saddle. ‘Silas knows how to use people’s emotions against them. And he’s more than willing to sit back and watch people destroy one another.’
‘Does he care about anything? Beyond power and control? Anyone?’ Torj prompted from the other side of Wren.
‘I thought he cared about me,’ Zavier replied. ‘But I think those days are long gone.’
