Chapter 21: Chapter 21: The Calm Before the Storm
The early morning sun poured pale light onto Winterhold and, with the betrayal of House Falconcrest the streets of the city began to come alive. Soldiers marched along in disciplined rows; their armors clinked ever so softly as the soldiers prepared to receive orders from the council to intercept any supply lines leading to the House Falcrest. Merchants privately whispered while they cast furtive glances to maintain an ambiance that gauged how the balance of their power changed in the recent revelation.
Damien sat from the window of his small inn and gazed at the stirring activities in the city. He leaned against the stony frame and let steel-gray eyes probe the streets below. Yet, much more from their remarkable victory over Falcrest, the sensation snuggled into the chest could not be ignored.
"Brooding again?"
Amara's voice sliced through the silence. She stepped into the room, her cloak dropped casually over one shoulder, and threw a satchel onto the table with a satisfying thud.
"Not brooding," Damien immediately replied, "I am thinking." He just never took his eyes away from the view.
Amara grinned in response to it all. "You know, if you spent less time thinking and more time sleeping, you'd not look like death warmed over."
Damien allowed himself a faint smile. "Someone has to think ahead."
She walked across the room to him so that they could share the view onto the city. "What's next? Falcrest is wide open and their supply lines are about to be shredded; their allies are probably in panic mode. Sounds like a win."
"That's one step," Damien pointed out. "But Elyas would not just sit idle over his crippled network. He would strike back."
Amara tilted her head, studying him. "You're worried about him."
"Elyas has always been dangerous," said Damien. "He's been that way even in my last life. He's thrived in chaos and he will turn this war back on the side that appears to be winning."
Amara's smirk softened into a faint smile. "Then we don't give him an opening."
---
It was morning and preparations were all complete. Damien had met General Aldric who had just come to Winterhold with more of the men that he had gotten from the council meeting. They would discuss their method of intercepting the remaining supply routes to Falcrest, as well as fortifying Winterhold against any possible reprisals thereafter.
Aldric pointed to a map laid out across the war room table. "We have scouts positioned watching the southern roads," Aldric said. "Last we saw, it was under movement to Reynard's territory. If we hurry, we may be able to catch that shipment before it gets to his men."
"Very good," Damien said. "And what of our defenses here?"
"The walls are secure," Aldric replied, "and the soldiers are ready, but Reynard's next attack will not be easy to hold."
Damien nodded with his jaw tightening. "We need to conclude before it reaches that end."
---
Inside, midday crowded activity around the inn with Damien and Amara coordinating the scouts and messengers. Bright-eyed returned Carys and Loric from their mission down south, but stooped and weary.
"Falcrest's alliances are in disarray , " Carys said as she plopped down into a chair. "House Draemir is denying any involvement, but the other houses are starting to distance themselves from Falcrest. The cracks are forming."
"Good," Damien said. "The more isolated Elyas becomes, the weaker his position."
Loric leaned against the wall, his scarred face unreadable. "It won't last. Draemir is known to play both ways. Upon sensing an opportunity, they will throw their lot in with Reynard again."
"Then we ensure they do not get the chance," said Damien firmly.
---
Dipped lower in the sky, Damien called a meeting with his key personnel. They assembled in a small room within the inn, and the table was now filled with maps, segment documents, and heavy heads.
"Falcrest is on the back foot," Damien continued. "Its allies break, and Reynard's army is strung something. That is, indeed, our chance to drive the advantage home we've gained."
"And how do we drive the advantage?" Amara asked, reclining within the delicate petals of her chair.
"We strike Reynard directly," Damien explained. "With Falcrest's resources disrupted, his supply lines will be weak. If we cut him off completely, he won't have the strength to maintain the rebellion."
Carys arched an eyebrow. "You're proposing a siege."
"Not a full siege," Damien clarified. "Siege in places and make him retreat there. If we can place him into isolation, there's not much left to do but to surrender-or make a mistake."
"It's bold," Loric cautioned. "But then bold plans have served you well thus far."
Amara grinned. "And here I thought you'd argue against it."
Loric shrugged. "I'm not suicidal. If this is our best shot, I'm gonna take it."
----
The plan was moved into execution by nightfall. Messages were sent to the council and allied forces stationed near Winterhold regarding the strategy of Damien. Small boy skirmishers would divert Reynard's remaining supply lines as heavier force moved in the direction of his major stronghold.
With all these preparations underway, Damien was given a moment to reflect in solitude on the balcony of the inn. The bite of the cold night wind stung his skin, but he welcomed what the night offered: clarity.
"You are doing it again," Amara said, stamping onto the balcony.
"Doing what?"
"Thinking too much," she smirked. "You are going to drive yourself crazy at this rate."
He laughed quietly, "And what would you suggest?"
"Enjoy the quiet while you can," Amara said. "Because once we march, there won't be much of it."
He turned toward her, saying quietly, "You make it sound so easy."
"It can be," she said leaning against the railing. "You just have to let it in."
For a moment, they stood in silence, hefting their burden of what was their common mission.
"You have changed, Damien," Amara finally said.
He raised an eyebrow. "How so?"
"You care," she replied. "About the people, the kingdom-even about me."
Damien's expression softened, a slight smile tugging at his lips. "I've had good reason to change."
Amara's smirk returned but with a warmth in her eyes that hadn't been there before. "Stay like this, and you just might survive this."
---
The next day, the army was assembled outside the gates of Winterhold. Soldiers stood in straight lined rows, weapons gleaming with the early light. Anticipation was thick in the air as Damien and Amara rode to the front lines of the formation.
His voice rang out steady and commanding. "Today, we take the fight to Reynard. We fight not just to end this rebellion, but to restore peace and justice to the kingdom." Together, we will prevail."
The soldiers cheered, their voices echoing across the plains.
Amara leaned over her head toward Damien. "Not bad, Your Grace. You might just make a leader yet."
"Let's see if we live long enough to find out," Damien replied.
---
The march leading to Reynard's bulwark was terribly long and tiresome, with the country footing becoming coarser every mile. Their scouts had reported signs of Reynard's forces hurrying to their retreat in a disorganized fashion.
"They're running," Aldric said, in his grim tone.
"Not running," Damien corrected. "Regrouping. Reynard knows we're coming, and he's got to be preparing for us."
Amara grinned, resting her hand on the hilt of her dagger. "Good. I'm ready too."
As darkness aligned the sun in the horizon with the world, there was a distant profile- an outline of the kingdom of Reynard- dark and towered against a rocky cliff.
Steel-gray eyes were turned away from it and distance saved Damien. "This is it."
Beside him was Amara, her smirk unmoving even now.
"Ready for closure?"
Damien's narrowed gaze hardened under the weight of his unbreakable will. "Then let us finish what we've started."
The first torches were lit, and with them, the army began taking shape into ranks. The air grew still thicker with tension.
The time of the final battle had come.