Chapter 138

A Time to Act

Commander Torvin looked anything but pleased to have a prince parked in his office. He stood tall, shoulders squared, with that distinct Reldoni poise—clean-cut, disciplined. His uniform was austere, stripped of any unnecessary flair, save for a row of commendations marking him as a career soldier. Only Tanlor had been permitted to join Daegan in the Commander’s office. Tanlor’s eyes swept over the other men in the room. There were three captains present, each with some history tied to Daegan.

One of them, Captain Pareen, had greeted Daegan with a wave when they’d walked in. Pareen had the easy air of a young noble who’d landed in the military through family connections rather than any earned merit. It struck Tanlor as almost humorous; he could picture Daegan, not so long ago, as that very same type of noble—a man of the court, clever with words but with limited taste for true duty. Now, Daegan’s nod to Pareen held no more warmth than was polite, a subtle shift Tanlor couldn’t help but note. The other two captains were also nobility that had crossed paths with Daegan at some stage in the past.

“The topic of your identity, Prince Daegan,” Commander Torvin cut to the heart of the matter. “I believe has been confirmed.” His gaze flicked to Pareen. “Captain, you’re dismissed.” Pareen opened his mouth to protest but then thought better of it, nodding and leaving with only a hint of irritation shadowing his otherwise affable expression. The other two remained however. Tanlor noted how they both held themselves—a certain assurance, the mark of men trusted enough to share Torvin’s counsel.

“You’ll forgive the precaution, my Prince,” Commander Torvin said in a no-nonsense tone, “for needing others to verify this. We’ve never met before and by all official records, you’re a dead man.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” Daegan replied, a wry grin edging onto his face.

Torvin did not return the smile. “I’ll arrange an escort to Nordock, my Prince. Lord-General Mattice holds the city there. King Landryn is leading the assault on Rubastre.” Tanlor felt a prickle of tension run through him at the mention of Rubastre under attack. It was not missed by Torvin, whose gaze lingered on him. One dangerous man knowing the bearing of another.

“I’m not going to Nordock,” Daegan said plainly.

“Forgive my insistence, my lord, but this region is anything but safe,” Torvin’s eyes narrowed, unreadable. “We’re holding these passes from the east. Should the Rubanians take the northern route around the mountains, we’ll intercept them here.”

“The Rubanians aren’t the threat,” Daegan countered.

“If I may be so bold, my lord. I am a soldier, I follow orders. I have not attained my position with political manoeuvring, but by the simple act of doing my job, and doing it well. The chain of command is clear. My orders come from Lord-General Mattice and the King himself. Both of whom have confirmed that you’re dead. Allegedly murdered by the Arch-Duke of Rubane,” he did not speak with the pomp of someone who relished the authority they had and their connections to the King, rather merely stated the facts.

“I won’t deny I’ve had assassins chasing me the past few months,” Daegan admitted, “it is only by the sword of my bodyguard here that I’ve survived.” Tanlor noted that Daegan did not reveal who those assassins had been sent by.

“Send word to Mattice and the King,” Daegan said, “do what you must to inform them I am alive. But the news I bring requires immediate action, Commander.”

“And what is this news?”

“An army,” Daegan said, “coming from the north. An army like you’ve never seen. Rakmen, thousands of them from what the scouts of the outposts can tell. I know, I know, I didn’t believe in them myself either, but this is something you must trust me on. If you do not send your men to Bluewater Wall, then the rak army will break through the wall and tear a bloody path through this entire region.”

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“You’re asking me to defy a direct order from my General.” Torvin’s lips pressed into a line.

“I’m not asking, Commander. As the Crown-Prince, I am commanding you.”

“With all respect, Prince Daegan,” Torvin said slowly, each word pronounced with care, “you have not been publicly named as King Landryn’s heir. And as far as the King is concerned, you’re still dead.”

“Commander Torvin,” Daegan’s voice held a raw edge, an element of desperation. “The rakmen won’t come with the civility of conquerors demanding surrender. Villages will be burned. They’ll raze them to ash, slaughtering without care or conscience. Men, women, children. They will all burn. These monsters will destroy, and they will kill everyone in their path. I know how this sounds, like some kind of demon army but I’ve seen them with my own eyes. They have draega fighting for them.”

“Draega?” Torvin’s face was unreadable, but there was a flicker, the barest sign of disbelief mingling with something colder, something that suggested fear.

“I know how all of this sounds,” Daegan wasn’t pleading, but Tanlor could easily pick up the fear in his tone. “But I saw them myself. Fought them alongside my companions.”

“Draega sightings have been reported in Reldon, in the past year.” one of the other captains interjected, voice tense. “The bloodshedders fought them along the Tidewall, more along the Athlin border, we're told. The King warned that draega forces were rising, that their tide would sweep across our lands like a plague, razing everything in their path.”

Commander Torvin believed it too. Tanlor could see it in his expression. He could also see the war that raged within the man, plan as a day. The Commander had his responsibility here in Harriston. If he abandoned this post, it left the way open across the Balfold. Any army would have a direct path to Nordock. It was clearly the reason his army had been placed here, to guard against such a thing.

Torvin’s gaze shifted from Daegan to the other officers, then to the door, as though seeking something far beyond the walls of this room. He remained still for a moment, assessing Daegan not as a prince or a nobleman, but as a fellow man, someone who knew what the right thing was. Someone, who, despite everything, had returned from the dead with this warning.

"Bluewater Wall will not hold on its own,” Daegan pressed, “four hundred soldiers. That’s it. The wall itself might be defensible, but the rakmen numbers… if they break through, there’s no force behind them to stop their advance. Harriston, yes, it might hold a little longer, but the towns, the villages, the people in the plains and forests—they will be massacred. If we reinforce Bluewater now, we have a chance to hold them back, maybe even push them out."

“If I pull my forces from Harriston, we leave a door open,” Torvin finally said, his voice hard as stone. “The northern path to Nordock would be undefended through the Balfold.”

“Have you been through the Balfold?” Tanlor stepped forward. “Have you seen the ruins with your own eyes? Nobody lives there. The region is desolate. No army will be marching through it. The rakmen destroyed it ten years ago. And they came in numbers a fraction of what they bring now. This is not an army to burn a few villages, Commander, this is an army with the purpose to destroy all of us.”

It was all true, every word. Tanlor had fought in the last skirmishes of that bloody war. He’d been barely more than a boy then. Rak war parties had broken through Bluewater Wall which had been undermanned for decades.

Duke Solidas had been the ruler of the Balfold region. His keep now lay in crumbling ruins, his line gone. There were no villages and towns left. Duke Rivers and Tanlor’s own cousin, Boern, had contested for the lands in the years that followed but still no one had moved to re-settle. The memories of the attack still too recent in memory.

“Commander,” Daegan urged, “I understand what it is that you are risking. I am asking you to put your trust in me. My brother might have my head for what I’m asking, and, truthfully, yours too. But we need to do something. We need to move. If we don’t act now, they’re all going to die.”

Commander Torvin stood silent, the lines of his face hardening. Slowly, he gave a single nod.