The room was silent. Florencia continued.

“We think they were taken by the Enemy, but we didn’t have enough time to gather proof.”

Baron Vilip Fascamonta let out a cry of despair. “By the Gods! That means—”

“Yes, Vilip, that means our northern flank is open,” said the marshall with a cold realization and turned to us. “I hope those are all the dreadful news you bring.”

“My Lord,” said a nobleman, wearing gilded, custom-made war gear. “We have to send a force there to keep guard. We do not have the forces to defend against a flanking attack.”

“Indeed, lord Tocci,” said the marshall and turned to one of his captains. “Captain Valejo, this must be the task of you and your scouts. I would have used your mounted cavalry with Orsin’s charge, we cannot have an open flank that is also unguarded.”

“It will be done, marshall. I will leave immediately!” The lean but stern-looking captain marched out with haste. He and his men would ride throughout the night.

There was a lull in the conversation, and I took advantage of it. “What do we know about the enemy’s forces?”

“They amount to nothing more than a horse of savages, some thousands strong,” said marshall de-Vilgario. “But this is the largest force those Stotor bastards have ever assembled, and it marks their first overt march toward our borders. This is an open act of war, even though they didn’t declare it. We will put these cowardly wretches down without mercy.”

“But what about the reports from the scouts?” asked captain Malatesa. “They spoke of terrifying monsters within their ranks.”

“We cannot wage war based on dubious rumors,” replied the marshall much too casually.

“Marshall, I can vouch for the validity of those reports,” I said. “We have seen them with our own eyes. The Enemy has the ability to summon powerful creatures for this war.”

“Oh, can you? Well, is there anything else you can weigh your opinion on?” asked the marshall.

I ignored the obvious sarcasm in his voice.

“If the Enemy does bring their terrible creatures with them, we have to be very careful when fighting them. They are massive, extraordinarily strong, fast, and extremely dangerous. Dark magic gives them power, and even I don’t know the full extent of their strength. I’ve seen them rip men apart with their bare hands—”

“In Scorro?” asked baron Fascamonta, sweating profusely. I nodded.

“If possible, leave those to me,” I said. While before, my words were met with dismissal, save from baron Fascamonta, what I said in the end, drew the attention of everyone. The whispering stopped.

“Leave them to you?” Colonel Piasno sought clarification.

“I’ve fought and defeated them before. Courage and discipline are not enough to win against them,” I said.

“Courage and discipline are enough to fight any foe!” Marshall de-Vilgario corrected my obvious mistake.

“If what Mr. Espian says is true, is it wise to tell the common soldier of this foe? If, indeed, they stand a thin chance against them,” asked the baron of Bersia, hoping to defuse the growing tension.

“Could you, instead, advise the troops not to engage or provoke them?” I proposed, but immediately I sensed I had overstepped my station.

“Thank you, Mr. Espian, for your contribution,” said the marshall, “but that will be all I ask from you. I will put you and your company next to the Knights of Hanuk, along with Master Fiorlunta.”

“Thank you, marshall,” I said as politely as I managed. He noticed I backed down, and acknowledged it.

“That will be all, Mr. Espian. You may leave. My aide-de-camp will arrange suitable accommodations within the estate for you. You may—”

With a resounding crash, the imposing front doors of the estate were flung open, crashing against the stone walls.

“Orsin!”

Marshall de-Vilgario was overjoyed and ran to shape the hand of the returning captain. “Welcome back, captain, I had full confidence in your return.”

Captain Viccorio Orsin strode into the grand hall, his face glistening with sweat, brown hair, now peppered with grey, was disheveled. He idly twirled his thick mustaches between his fingers and wiped his sticky hair over his head to make himself someone presentable to the commanders.

“I am not dead yet, my lords,” said captain Orsin, and marched past many of the lower captains, nobles, and knights. “You have not given me leave to die. Might I trouble someone for a glass of wine?”

The aides hurried to fulfill his request and presented him with a large cup filled with sweet-smelling wine, and a warm loaf of bread that came out of the oven only a moment ago. It smelled delicious, and my mouth salivated over the smell. I’d not had fresh bread in days. Orsin downed the wine and devoured the dark bread with crispy crust in two bites. He wiped his mustache clean into his leather glove.

“Marshall, I report back that the assignment has been executed successfully,” said Orsin and wiped his face with a handkerchief. “The coast has been secured, as ordered, but I must note that this attack was a diversion. They only fielded feeble fighters against us, who could run long distances without stopping. They did not account my corisseri would be sent against them, and they stood no chance. I left a small force to guard the coast. How has the war council gone? How many have answered the call for aid?”

“Many have answered, Viccorio,” said marshall de-Viglario. “Most of our forces are now assembled, encamped on this very field, but more are arriving every hour. We have made detailed plans about the unfolding of the battle. Please, Viccorio, come closer.”

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De-Vilgario began to explain in great detail how the battle would play out. Sensing that we were no longer needed in the war council, where the lords and captains made plans, we exited the grand hall.

The marshall’s aide-de-camp guided us to the estate’s stables. It was a large but austere structure, that had a stone foundation, covered in moldy plaster, and boarded walls and thick timber beams. Inside, the space was subdivided into modest sleeping quarters of hay, separated by linen covers. An iron brazier was placed in the center of the room, with a modest stockpile of firewood and kindling. Towards the rear, a few humble knights were already in slumber.

“It could be worse,” said Jace. “We could be under the open sky again, like most of the men-at-arms. But I prefer itchy hay to frozen ground.” He settled his gear near his bedroll and began rummaging through his saddlebags for some hardbread.

The night very quickly settled upon us, and we lit a fire in the brazier to prepare some warm food. We had brought with us smoked sausages and hardtack bread from Lottie, and we cooked it over the fire, and washed it down with thinned wine, and a bottle of liqueur that Iskander managed to buy. We sat and ate in silence, and enjoyed the moment. It was warm before the fire, and our stomachs were happy for some filling food for once.

While we sat and savored our meal, Florencia remained almost glued to my side, her gaze downcast and distant. I could tell there was a lot on her mind, but I wanted to wait until we were alone to talk to her. Over the following hours, the others went outside for a walk to contemplate, and I was left with her. Only the snoring knights in the corner were with us, and the fire died down as the last firewood burned out.

“I have no desire to be in a battle,” whispered Florencia, and suddenly looked up into my eyes. She was afraid. “My skills are wasted on a battlefield. I’m better in small skirmishes, and I’d be perfectly happy to leave the fighting to our soldiers. They volunteered for it, after all! And they’re quite excited over it, and I’m not. But Jonas, you understand that if you weren’t going, I wouldn’t be either.”

She sighed. “But I know you must go, so I’ll go as well.”

This revelation did not catch me off guard. She had never been militaristic or warlike. “If I weren’t here, Flo, you’d still be with the Yasman Lodge.”

Florencia scoffed. “I’d been growing unhappy there for many years, do you know? But I didn’t really realize it until the past few weeks when I had time to think. I used to think I was in a sour mood because of all the terrible assignments I was sent to solve. But now, I know it was because of the stubbornness of Ardovar and Philemon, and why they could not see what I saw. And it was because of all the backstabbing and rolling the blame onto others that happened there every day, and how the backdoor politics interfered with what I thought was the most important. Jonas, I know that you blame yourself that I left—”

“Thrown out!”

Florencia laughed out loud, and one knight woke up grumpily. “Shush! I’m not angry or disappointed that I was thrown out. I’m happy, but I should have shown it better.”

We went outside to have a walk.

Everywhere on the grassy field were tents and makeshift caps set up, with small fires burning here and there. The countless soldiers were mostly quiet, but I could hear some whispering, and I heard many were eager for the coming day. Others, though, were more somber and quiet and oiled their armor or sharpened their swords, looking grimly ahead.

It was a clear and calm night, though cold, and the triple-faced moon gleamed brilliantly. The first face had a reddish hue, symbolizing Hadrus, beside him was his wife, the coral-colored Iscia, and finally, farther down south, was Hanuos, the Third Sibling.

“Do you know?” Florencia began to speak. She took my hand, planting a series of warm kisses upon it. “We’ve heard so many people dismiss the Cappesand Academy. They have fallen out of favor, and Pitties is keeping a tight leash on them. I was thrown out just in time.”

We stood together in comfortable silence, our eyes fixed upon the night sky that was full of stars. While we watched, more soldiers arrived at the estate and dispersed out to make camp.

“It’s hard to believe how suddenly all of this is happening,” said Florencia.

“Was it really that sudden?” I countered. “Every time I heard anyone speak of Lottie, it was always accompanied by tales of awful rumors and mounting tension. I think this attack was long overdue. Remember when we were in the tavern in Scorro, and you talked with Iskander about all the dire news you’d come across—the fall of the northern countries, wars in the west, across the Long Sea? So no, Flo, I’m not surprised by any of this.”

Florencia, her tone casual but with an undertone of worry, said, “There hasn’t been a war in the southern countries for decades.” She glanced back at the stables. “But I’m tired of talking about that. I think I’ll retire for the night, and try to have at least some rest. Will you join me?”

“I’ll check in with the others first, and then I’ll join you,” I told her.

Florencia planted a warm kiss on my lips before retreating into the stables.

I went in search of Jace, who I found wandering around the field. He had ventured much farther and was now on the very ridge where the marshall wanted to make his battle. Jace clutched his ebony book tightly, though he wasn’t reading from it. He had his blue coat buttoned up to his throat, and the collar popped up.

“Have you thought about tomorrow? Can I count on you being there?” I asked Jace. He responded with a weak smile, taking his time before giving me an answer.

“There’s this excerpt from a book that keeps haunting me, Jonas,” began Jace, his tone pensive and distant. “I recall reading this line one evening, at candlelight in my dormitory room at Cappesand. It said—I can’t quite remember the precise words—but it said that the most significant moments in life tend to happen suddenly, when no one truly expects them, nor is ready. It said—well the protagonist said—that people are rarely ready when life gets serious all of a sudden. That night, Jonas, as a fresh-faced twenty-year-old, I made a promise to myself, I can’t even remember why, that I would always be ready, and that nothing would catch me off guard. I think, looking back now with opened eyes, that I was already walking the path laid out by Hanuk. I immersed myself in books, trying to understand and know everything I could, so I’d never be caught unprepared.”

He paused and looked at his Eye of Hanuk medallion which he had adorned with symbols of faith that he felt were a better fit. Now it all made sense. “Well, I was wrong, of course. One can never be truly ready and must understand their own limitations. I’ve pondered and weighed over every possibility, and I’ve reached the conclusion that this battle is not where my skills lie. Jonas, I’m not a warrior; I’m an academic! A scholar, for Hanuk’s sake! He values truth and knowledge, not war or swords. Even though he is the son of Hadrus, the Deity of honor and war itself, Hanuk knows that he can solve everything with intelligence and subtlety. Nobody needs me fumbling about on the front lines. And I don’t think you need me there, either. I’m no soldier, you know? I don’t even have a set of armor or a helmet, and… I’ll just get in everyone’s way.”

He rambled on for a bit longer, his words meandering and looping back upon themselves. I let him talk, offering him space to untangle his thoughts.

“Jace, I want to make it very clear that I can’t and won’t demand that you come and fight tomorrow. This is your decision, yours alone, but you surprised me. Out of everyone, I was almost certain that you would be there. Florencia is fragile right now, I don’t quite know why, Iskander and Jaxine are broken by grief, but you…” I stopped myself. This was getting manipulative. “It is your decision and I will support you either way. I hope you reconsider, but I won’t ask again.”

“Florencia is fighting tomorrow?” asked Jace, and I affirmed it with a nod. “I… I can’t be joining.”

Jace’s sudden defeatism took me by surprise, but I would not force the fight upon anyone. He had every right to make that choice to stay away from the fighting, and leave it to the professional soldiery. But I also sensed he was still very much undecided, so I left him alone to ponder and think.

I really hoped he would change his mind, without really knowing why.