The rain drummed a heavy, rhythmic beat against the thick leather of the war tent. Inside, the only light came from a sputtering oil lamp that cast long, dancing shadows over the wooden table. A dozen lower-ranking knights stood along the dark edges of the tent, their faces pale and silent, watching the high command.
Richard of House valor sat quietly, a man whose tall frame was clearly built from decades of brutal frontier combat. Even resting beneath his white wool cloak and polished iron plates, his stern face and the deep scar across his cheek commanded respect. He pushed back his short blond hair, damp with sweat, revealing piercing blue eyes that watched the room with cold intensity. He reached for his drink, the firelight catching the heavily calloused, rough skin of his hands.
Richard swallowed, wiping grease from his mouth with the back of his hand before gesturing with a half-eaten crust of bread. "Our knights cleared the ridge and threw the enemy border guards off the heights of The Plains of Doias. The garrison fled down the slopes toward the valley, leaving their broken spears in the dirt. But the stronghold ahead is a different beast. If we attack the fortress walls, our men will have to carry the storming ladders through open ground, or we must roll a heavy wooden battering ram under a rain of stones from their wall catapults."
Jabari watched the Grand Marshal oil his throat with a deep swallow of ale. Richard could track a single crate of iron across a kingdom, but the thought of a frontal assault made his rough hands shake against his tankard.
Across the pine table, Constable Nikolai of House Volkov used a slender dagger to slide a piece of fat onto his trench plate. This Constable was an elf and spy exceptionally tall and strikingly, almost unnaturally slim, with a frame like a winter reed. As he sat, his long, pointed elven ears pricked forward through his short-chopped blonde hair, catching every word spoken in the tent. His sharp, high cheekbones and pale skin stood out against the dark, stained leather lamellar strips hugging his narrow shoulders.
"The fortress is packed tight," Nikolai said, his melodic voice cutting through the damp air as he chewed a dried fig. "Eighteen thousand imperial soldiers are now gathered behind the fortifications of the capital city Themiscyra. The guards from The Plains of Doias have merged with the city's vanguard. The walls are ten cubits thick, built of massive square stone blocks with square towers guarding the iron-reinforced gates. But they are trapped.
Grand Marshal Richard pushed his wooden plate away, his scarred face turning sour as he looked up at the ceiling where rainwater began to pool. "It is too dim here," he muttered, reaching out to adjust the wick of the sputtering oil lamp to brighten the dark corners of the tent. He leaned his heavy, calloused elbows on the wood, looking directly at Jabari. "But the enemy's ships are perfectly stopping our own fleet from getting resupplied by sea. We are cut off from the water. Our only option is the slow land route from Heavenport, and the heavy rain has turned the paths through into a total mud .
"If the land wagons are failing us, we must ration the bread immediately," Nikolai suggested, setting his dagger down on the table . "We cannot fight on empty bellies."
Jabari caught the sudden look of panic on his men's faces At the mention of smaller rations .
"No rationing," Jabari said, his deep voice slicing through the tent. Every officer instantly froze. Jabari looked directly at the elf. "A drop in morale right now will break the army before we even reach the ditch. We do not sit in the mud and starve. We focus entirely on capturing the capital city instead of rotting in this swamp."
Nikolai bowed his head, his pointed ears dipping in embarrassment. "As you command, General elf—" The Constable caught his tongue, his pale face turning even white as he corrected himself. "Forgive me. As you command, Your Majesty."
Jabari's eyes narrowed into a cold, sharp glare. He leaned forward, the heavy, mud-stained iron armor on his chest clanking loudly against the edge of the pine table. "I prefer you call me General, as long as I wear my knight armor ."
"Yes, General," Nikolai replied quickly, his hand dropping back to his wine cup.
Jabari tore off a soft piece of barley bread, his dark eyes fixing intensely on the sealed wood envelope lying on the table before him.
"Now that the Holy Land has abandoned us to fight this war alone, we must project real power into the Euxine Sea to shatter their blockade," Jabari explained, his fingers tightening until the crust crushed to crumbs in his fist. "We cannot survive if they choke our waters forever."He leaned across the pine boards, his gaze locking directly onto the scarred face of the Grand Marshal.
"I am sending you back to Heavenport by dawn Richard " Jabari said, his voice dropping to a firm, unyielding gravel. "You will govern the capital in my stead. And I want you to deliver this official decree directly to Lyra Strong to appoint her as our new sea commander.
Richard paused, his cup halfway to his lips. "Lyra? A sea commander?"
Nikolai slid his slender dagger across his plate, his long, pointed elven ears twitching as he looked between the two men and murmured in a smooth, calculating voice, "With respect, General, if Heavenport fractures under the enemy's sea blockade and Richard's lack of political skill causes a bloody uprising over food shortages, the whole realm falls, so once the gates of Themiscyra are smashed, you must be the one to return to the capital to rule as Emperor and leave these bloody frontier sieges for us to handle, because a crown belongs to you"
Jabari's cold eyes fixed entirely on Nikolai, a low, dangerous rumble in his chest as he leaned over the pine table. "An interesting suggestion, Constable," Jabari said, his voice dripping with authority. "And I will do exactly that—if you do something for me first."
Nikolai paused, his slim fingers freezing on the hilt of his dagger as a look of genuine confusion crossed his sharp elven features. "And what is that going to be, General?"
"The moment we finish our dinner , you will take your spies and ride to the realm of Tir Na Nog," Jabari said, his voice dropping to a low, "The Zazzau Hive is swarming near the border. If they sense we are busy in the south, they will spill out of their nests and tear our rear apart."
"With my respect, General you cannot send me away now," Nikolai argued, his voice losing its smooth edge as he leaned forward over his plate. "The siege is entering its final phase.
Jabari shook his head, gesturing with his bread toward the elven constable. "I believe the Amazons can replace your spies inside Themiscyra, the capital city ."
Nikolai paused, his sharp elven ears twitching as he raised an eyebrow at the general. "And do you trust the Amazons' information so implicitly?"
Jabari met the elf's gaze without blinking, his expression hard. "I have to trust them," the general answered bluntly, taking a slow bite of his bread. "Soon enough, they are going to be a part of my empire."
Nikolai frowned, staring down at his glass as he thought of the massive wetlands to the east. "The marshes are vast, and the enemy has reinforcements from the east coming from Lycastia and Chadesia .
"We have Rogue station there" jabari said with smile
"Yes but the Harpy unit is far too small. A handful of wings cannot control such a massive, sprawling territory Nikolai add
"They don't need to control the whole territory," Richard countered calmly, taking a slow sip of his drink. "They only need to support Queen Otrera's main force. The Amazon units deployed in the east are successfully hunting down every scout they see . Trust me, they are going to be fine."
Nikolai paused, a tight, sharp smile touching his lips as he sheathed his dagger. "Even so, I will miss all the fun of killing those bastards, " the elf conceded softly, bowing his head. "But I feel it is a wise decision to make."
Jabari reached down to his belt and drew his heavy iron dagger. The blade as he brought it down with a sudden, violent strike. The pine table split with a sharp, loud snap, leaving the iron knife standing upright in the center.
The sharp eyes of the elf narrowed, Richard stopped breathing, and the silent men in the shadows fixed their gaze entirely on the vibrating steel.