As B'arthon cleared the tree line, the only surprise was that no surprise awaited him. His force was lined up and ready for battle, and standing opposite of them was the enemy army, as though this was just another battle before two villages, albeit villages whose warrior populations exceeded the total population of even the largest villages he was aware of. But still, where was the misdirection? Where was the impossible choice between chasing two prey to split his army? Where were Jack and S'haar?

As he looked over the front lines of his enemy, B'arthon had expected to see Jack and S'haar front and center. That was where the fighting would be most fierce, and it was the most critical part of any battle line, so he'd expected only their best to try and punch through his line in an attempt to compensate for their lesser numbers. But while some of the warriors at the front seemed to be wearing some sort of odd armor, there was no sign of S'haar, Jack, the wolgen, or Jack's sister Angela.

B'arthon furrowed his brows in thought. Could they have set this whole thing up as a distraction, only to turn tail and run? It would be wise. Of course, as a small group with that kind of power, they could easily punch through his rearguard holding the end of the valley and disappear into the wilderness, but that just didn't fit with anything he knew about that group. That just meant a surprise was still coming, and he had a few suspicions about where it might come from...

Ultimately, it didn't matter at the moment. The noble could spend several days trying to work out what impossible idea they had here now, but all that would accomplish is to give them more time to think up more convoluted plans. It was better to break the backbone of their resistance here and now. He had the advantage in numbers and quality of fighters. Wasting time and resources trying to outthink that insane human would only give Jack more power than he already possessed.

But first, he had one other obligation. In any battle where one side had clear superiority over the other, it is considered proper for the stronger side to offer surrender to the weaker. While he suspected the difference in power wasn't quite as stark as it appeared, he had to do this right, to keep up appearances in front of his own people as much as anything honor demanded. With that in mind, B'arthon stepped forward with an honor guard at his side. Then, walking nearly to the center between the battle lines, he waited. Finally, after a few moments, a delegation from the opposition approached. It seemed to be made up of mostly hill people, with only one familiar face in the lot, To'brel.

-

To'brel was nervous. He was definitely the youngest argu'n in this group. Even though his title of Lord technically made him equal with everyone present, he felt he didn't belong. These were all experienced leaders representing their tribes and villages. He'd never ruled a single day as Lord, and moreover, if any of his "subjects" were on this battlefield at all, they were fighting for the opposition. But despite that, both S'haar and Jack had insisted that he take up this role, representing the interests of the Dragon's Outpost in their absence. As if he was somehow qualified to do so!

Finally, their delegation reached a position reasonably close to B'arthon's and stopped. They were well within talking range, so long as both sides spoke loudly. To'brel had no idea what to say or do, but evidently, B'arthon didn't feel the same. The older noble raised his voice and issued his demands clearly and simply. "Surrender now, and everyone present shall be given a home and a job within the new A'ngles Empire! There is no need to waste blood or iron on this battlefield!"

There was some mumbling from the various chiefs before one of them shouted back. "If you don't want to waste blood or iron, return to your valley and leave us in peace!"

This was going about like To'brel had expected. Pretty soon, they'd return to their sides without the young noble having said a word. He really served no purpose here, after all...

For his part, B'arthon seemed to consider the chief's words before answering. "I'm willing to take my army and return to our valley, so long as you surrender the members of the Dragon's Outpost to us first! Of course, Jack and S'haar must be included!" That was unexpected...

The chiefs immediately looked at To'brel, who shrunk in on himself before they began speaking among each other in hushed tones. While To'brel couldn't make out everything they were saying, it was clear what the general consensus was now that they'd seen the army opposing them. This was too good an opportunity to pass up. Looking at it from their side, To'brel couldn't fault their logic either. This fight really did look hopeless.

Now To'brel's mind was racing. This is why he was here, to represent the interests of the Dragon's outpost. If he didn't speak up now, they'd be thrown to the enemy with no chance of any of Jack's magics or schemes to save the day. But what could he say? Could he appeal to the other chiefs' sense of honor? Sure, they might feel shame at abandoning their allies here and now, but they had the survival of their very people to think of. How many villages would be slaughtered to extinction today if they didn't betray this small group of outsiders who'd wandered into their midst and demanded this alliance? No, if he was going to close this fissure between everyone and convince them all to stand and fight, he had to do so in a way that appealed to their self-interests as individuals and as chiefs.

Looking back to B'arthon, To'brel remembered the last time he'd stood close to the noble with two armies on either side of them and the words he'd shared then. "Hope you learn fast, kid. You won't get a second chance." It was as accurate today as it had been then. B'arthon had a way with words. In fact, he was often very precise about how he chose his words. Maybe that was what the younger noble had to focus on. What exactly did he say, and what didn't he say... He said he'd take his army and leave...but then what?

Taking a deep breath, To'brel spoke up for the first time, speaking to B'arthon but more aware of the impact his words might have on the chiefs at his side. "That is quite the generous offer, my Lord. We of the Dragon's Outpost want to avoid the waste of blood most of all and will accept your terms, so long as both Lord A'ngles and yourself swear a blood oath today, here in front of both armies, that you will leave peacefully, and never return to the mountains to kill or subject these people while either of you lives!"

There was a moment of silence as everyone processed what he just said and what B'arthon hadn't said. B'arthon had offered to withdraw his army, but for how long? They could come back in a year or two, and now the tribes would be in the same situation, but without the aid of the Dragon's Outpost and all their weapons, warriors, and plans. They'd be on their own, and as bad as their odds are right now, the odds would be considerably worse in the future. The tribes wouldn't be saving themselves. They'd only be delaying the inevitable. Their only possible salvation lay in this battle, here and now. But of course, B'arthon could completely unravel To'brel's hasty little plan by agreeing to his terms... The field became silent as everyone waited for B'arthon's answer.

After several moments, during which To'brel had plenty of time to have second, third, fourth, and fifth thoughts on his choice of words, B'arthon finally answered, his voice conveying annoyance, exhaustion, and something else the younger male couldn't quite place. "You've grown, Lord To'brel. Those were wise words you just chose. But, unfortunately, I must refuse. All I am offering is to leave the hills for now. We cannot swear an oath that we'll never return because we cannot know what the future holds or if the hill people won't take advantage of such a pledge. So I make my offer again, give us the survivors of Dragon's Outpost, and we'll leave. Any other offer short of that will be met with war!"

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

The chiefs had stopped speaking amongst each other. The first who had spoken looked at the rest, then To'brel, before stepping forward and speaking. "Then you leave us no other option. Bring your armies! You will not find us lacking teeth or claws to answer!"

With that, their delegation broke away, returning to their lines, leaving To'brel wondering if any of that really just happened or if he'd simply dreamt it all...

-

As Jack sat there waiting, he couldn't help but wonder what was happening. It irked him not to be present to hear what was being said, even though it would have completely given away the position of his flanking force when he ran to the forest instead of joining the front line.

Of course, Lon'thul was all grins. "I can't wait to charge out there and catch them in the backsides! Lord A'ngles will never know what hit him!"

Jack frowned. "I doubt it'll go that smoothly. They may not have my historical knowledge, but it hardly takes a genius to suspect a flanking maneuver, and he's already going to be suspicious when there's no sign of S'haar or myself on the front line."

Lon'thul shrugged. "Yeah, but you've got me, the hunter extraordinaire, Grim and his pack, led by yourself and Em'brel," The hunter nodded to the aforementioned female, who was more focused on double-checking her gear than the hunter's blathering. "your sister, the "metal goddess," not to mention seventy-five of the best hunters every tribe had to offer! We'll move faster and hit harder than anything they can bring to bear!"

Jack's frown deepened as he looked at the all-too-eager hunter. "Don't go believing your own stories about yourself. Overconfidence kills more soldiers than enemy spears. And yeah, we'll hit hard, but we also can't afford to get bogged down. In a war of attrition, they win on numbers and manpower alone. So our plan has to go off nearly perfectly, and my people have a saying about the best-laid plans of mice and men."

Lon'thul grinned again. "Well, the good news is if I'm right, I get to hold it over you as long as we live! If you're right, well, I suppose you'll also get to hold it over me as long as we live, but in your case, you'll have to make it quick!"

Jack couldn't help himself. That last line was so absurd that he couldn't help but close his eyes and chuckle. But closing his eyes was a mistake. He was suddenly taken by a vision of the young argu'n whose death he'd caused so very long ago. What had happened to that Jack? The one who convulsed and vomited after the first time he'd killed someone in self-defense. The one who obsessed about every life he took? Now he was leading armies into battle, and thousands would likely be dead at the end of the day.

Looking back, it was hard to say if he should have done anything differently. It all seemed so necessary, even now. And yet, despite the necessity of it all, he wondered if maybe surrendering to A'ngles wouldn't have been better. Maybe the necessary thing and the right thing weren't the same. Did he really have any right to put the lives and happiness of his family and friends over the safety of the thousands waiting for battle?

The only thing Jack knew for sure was that kid wasn't the only one who'd died back then. The part of Jack that had been more innocent and hopeful also died. He'd been a better man. He wondered if S'haar mourned that Jack as well. Of course, it was just his imagination, but for the briefest moments, he thought he heard her whisper. "It's too late for regrets. You knew this was where it might lead." The feeling was so strong. It felt like she had ahold of his arm...

That was when an actual grip on his arm snapped Jack back to the present. Standing next to him, looking up with evident concern, was Em'brel. She didn't say anything but smiled sadly and squeezed his arm again. Jack smiled back in a way he hoped alleviated her concern, but he suspected did little more than show his own anxiety as he patted her hand. Though he couldn't help but marvel at how fierce the claws on that hand had become. When had the little girl he'd saved from the raiders become such a strong woman? What kind of a guardian was he that he'd allowed her to be exposed to so much trauma? She was even about to fight in a massive battle to determine this world's future!

That was when Anglea spoke up out of nowhere. "YEAH! WAY TO GO TO'BREL!"

That snapped Jack out of his musings as he and everyone else turned to Angela. Then, finally, Jack asked the question on all their minds. "What in the world..?"

Anglea's smirk came across in her voice. "Our boy went and grew up on us when no one was looking! He just saved the day... Or maybe doomed us all. I suppose it depends on how things turn out."

That only confused Jack more, and he opened his mouth to ask more questions when Em'brel squeezed his arm again. "He's fighting this battle in his way. It's about time for us to start fighting it in ours."

Looking around at the hunters looking at the group of them, he nodded, turning to Lon'thul. "Let's get into position. As soon as the front lines clash, we need to move fast!"

-

As B'arthon returned to his lines, his father was there to meet him. "No sudden bouts of sanity on their part?"

The younger noble didn't even bother to acknowledge the attempted joke as he turned to survey the battle lines. He squinted, trying to discern any hidden pitfalls or ambushes one last time but still coming up blank. They didn't actually think a few ranged weapons would be enough to turn the tide of battle, did they?

Lord A'ngles seemed to be analyzing the enemy as well. "Apparently, they're holding the middle of their battle line with workers, not warriors or guards. They have those ranged weapons, but according to what we've seen, they won't be able to get off more than two shots before we reach their lines. With your new invention, they'll be lucky to get one hundred casualties at worst. But what of that charred-looking land behind them? What purpose does that serve?"

B'arthon looked at the spot his father was talking about and frowned. "That's obviously the trees they burned to draw us here. If it was in front of their battle line, I'd suspect it was filled with traps of some sort, but it's to their back. Perhaps, they were just trying to clear space for the fight? Maybe they think the uncertain footing will make their people less likely to retreat through it? Either way, with it behind them, I don't see it playing a significant role in the battle unless things go very badly for them, and I don't see Jack as the kind who would sacrifice that many lives just for a simple pit trap..."

A'ngless looked around. "Speaking of Jack and that terrifying mate of his, and the metal goddess for that matter, I don't see them anywhere. Any thoughts?"

B'arthon frowned as he looked off into the trees behind the enemy. "My guess is they are waiting in the forest to loop around once the battle begins to try and flank our army or maybe come for you and me specifically. Based on the number of people in the battle line and our intel on the number of capable people they had, I doubt the flanking force could number much more than fifty, maybe a hundred if they have some children actually filling out the ranks to make it look like so many aren't missing."

Looking at his own army, B'arthon continued. "I'll take two hundred of our own men to counter them. That'll leave you with an honor guard of over a hundred should they sneak past me, in which case you'd just have to hold them long enough for me to flank their flank. If you're not too afraid of taking that kind of risk, old man."

A'ngles made a face and leaned on his cane. "I'll let that one slide because of everything going on, but please, not in front of the guards, my son. And yes, that'll be fine. You've proven your intuition multiple times already. So I'll trust in it today."

B'arthon returned his attention to the battle lines. "Still, it would make sense for Jack and even his sister to flank us, but I would expect S'haar to be leading front and center. It bothers me that she's nowhere to be seen. I feel like they still have another hidden ambush on this hunt..."

A'ngles raised an eye ridge. "Should we delay the attack then?"

B'arthon shook his head. "No. Give them too much time, and they'll only strike when our men need rest or food. Our best bet is not to overthink this and simply hit the vulnerability they've shown. Put our best warriors front and center and try to break their lines in two. Once that happens, no flanking maneuver they might try and pull off will have any effect on the outcome of the battle."

The older noble nodded. "Very well. And you're confident you should go with the counter flank and not remain in charge of the main battle line?"

B'arthon shook his head once again. "No. I'm convinced Jack will be on the flank. The speed of his mount makes him optimal for that, and he'll probably have a bodyguard of hunters and others who can move quickly through the trees with him. If there's going to be any trickery, it'll come from that human, and I want to be on hand to deal with it! Don't worry. I won't be fighting front and center. I've got trained warriors for that. I just want to keep my eyes on the human, is all."

A'ngles nodded. "Very well. It seems you've thought this through. I support your plan. Fight well, my son!"

As he looked back at his aging adoptive father, B'arthon felt a pang of concern for the older male's well-being for the first time since the beginning of their partnership. Usually, he just saw him as a useful ally and hadn't ever really considered him as family, despite the terms they used for each other in public. However, something felt different this time, leaving the younger noble disquieted. "You too...father."