"Eh?!"
Tiberius jerked like he'd been slapped.
Yesterday he'd stood right here and confidently assured Demetrius that Watchfort and the Three-Tax Gate would hold the line—there was no way the Volantenes could reach Stone Crow Town this fast.
And now his own words were slapping him in the face.
"Damn it!" Tiberius stood up, rubbing his temples. "How many?"
"About a hundred!"
"A hundred…"
Tiberius let out a long breath.
A scouting party, then—not the main Volantene hammer.
For a split second he almost barked, "Charge out and crush them!" But then he pictured his Lightning Company soldiers—exhausted, morale in the gutter—and the ragtag Myr, Tyroshi, and mercenary stragglers who had just joined them.
Not reliable enough.
Besides, who knew if this was bait?
"Vito…" Tiberius rubbed his forehead, a sly glint creeping into his eyes. "I've got an idea…"
He leaned in and whispered a few quick words. Vito listened, brow furrowed at first, then broke into a wide grin.
"That's a nasty little trick!" Vito laughed. "All right, I'm on it!"
He strode out the door, still chuckling and shaking his head.
Crafty little bastard.
---
When the Volantenes saw Stone Crow Town's gates hanging half-open, the streets empty, the Three Daughters banners drooping limply from the flagpoles, and not a single defender on the walls, they burst into loud, mocking laughter.
"Cowards! Bunch of gutless cowards!" One of the hired mercenaries hurled a rock at the town gate. "I'm embarrassed for them—abandoning an inland town without even a fight!"
The hundred or so riders sauntered straight through the gates like they owned the place.
"Why's there nobody here?" one officer asked, frowning.
"Perfectly normal," another replied from horseback, sounding smug. "The Three Daughters have been routed by Lord Marcus. I heard we're about to seize every crossing on the west bank of the Disputed River. If they don't want to die, they're running deeper inland!"
"Then this town…"
"Ours for the taking!"
"Tch." The first officer curled his lip. "I was hoping for some loot. The ones who ran probably took everything—grain, valuables, the lot."
"But it's still a victory," the second reminded him. "Bloodless capture of a town. That's merit. And Lord Marcus will push west along the Flank Corridor next, striking straight into the heart of the Three Daughters' colonies. This little place is a perfect stepping stone. We'll get rewarded one way or another."
"Makes sense," the officer nodded. "Hm? What's that up ahead?"
A wooden sign stood in the middle of the town square.
"I'll check." The mounted officer spurred his horse forward.
"It's upside down… I have to read it backwards?" He dismounted, flipped the sign upright, and squinted.
"Volantenes… will die here."
His face drained of color.
"Retreat! It's a trap—there's an ambush! Ambush!"
A crossbow bolt slammed into his chest. The thick breastplate saved his life, but the impact drove the metal inward, knocking the wind out of him. He staggered, trying to remount.
The second bolt took him straight through the eye socket. The high-velocity quarrel churned his brains into mush. His body slumped sideways over the saddle, dragged a few feet by the panicked horse before sliding off.
"Kid, your aim still needs work!" Vito spat out the bolt he'd been holding in his teeth and slapped it into his freshly cocked crossbow, already sighting the next fleeing Volantene. "Eyes, not chest—eyes!"
It was a slaughter. One side had planned every step; the other had walked straight into the jaws. And Tiberius's men knew Stone Crow Town far better than these invaders ever could.
"Demetrius, who are they? Why are they here? Where did they come from? Which legion?" Tiberius wiped blood from his spear with a rag and tossed the cloth aside.
"They're not from any regular legion," Demetrius reported. "Hired mercenaries working for a Volantene noble named Mohata. They sailed up from New Volantis Port in the delta. Their mission was to scout ahead, hoping to earn enough merit to join the Tiger Cloaks for real. Most of them were just here to loot whatever they could grab."
"Scouting?" Tiberius frowned, lowering his spear. "The Volantenes should be hammering every crossing and outpost on the west bank right now. Why push this far inland…?"
He froze mid-sentence, eyes narrowing.
"Wait—ask him. Ask if he's Mohata's vanguard. And how many men Mohata actually has…"
The question never needed answering.
A long, ancient-sounding horn blast rolled across the town, vibrating through their bones.
"Shit." Tiberius gritted his teeth and scrambled up the wall. Far in the distance a massive dust cloud was rising, swallowing the horizon.
Vito had already loosed another bolt. The remaining Volantene riders abandoned their dead officer and fled.
"Barricade the gates!" Tiberius shouted. "Bricks, stones, beams—anything! That bastard Mohata's main force is coming!"
He knew the empty-town trick that had worked on the first hundred wouldn't fool fifteen hundred men.
"Prepare for siege!" Tiberius snarled, knuckles white on his spear. "Damn Volantenes!"