The Winter kingdom

Version 2.0

The chaos in the camp was palpable as Brandon and the other kings moved swiftly toward the thick smoke and flickering light of flames. The acrid scent of burning started to sting their noses, and the shouts of men ringing and calling for water followed them.

They rushed past tents and men before finding several of their supply tents ablaze, everything consumed by hungry flames that sent plumes of black smoke curling into the night sky. Around the fires, men clashed in chaotic combat as they both looked the same as one another.

Edwyn gasped. "They're my men." He said before drawing his sword and charging into the men taking them both down unsure who started the fires.

The other king joined him, their guards fanning out as they charged into the fray. The skirmish was quick as everyone was quickly taken down and captured. Once they were surrounded, they gave up quickly. As they fought Frost quickly barked orders to his men. Soldiers scrambled to fetch water from barrels and the nearby stream, forming a desperate bucket line. But it was a futile effort. The flames were roaring, reducing their contents to smouldering ash.

The camp fell into a lull, broken only by the crackle of burning tents and the groans of the wounded. Edwyn surveyed the devastation, his jaw clenched. Supplies from food to further winter clothing had been stored in these tents. He turned to Brandon, standing quietly his and still wrapped around his sword.

"What's the damage?" Brandon asked.

Edwyn sighed. "Almost everything I brought. My lands are the closest; we supplied the bulk of the food stores. It's all gone."

Brandon stood in silence.

One of the Slate King's captains approached. "My King, we've interrogated some of the traitors. They confessed—they're our men, bribed by Connell. A handful of them escaped during the chaos, last seen fleeing toward the Red King's lines."

Edwyn's fist slammed into the nearest barrel, the hollow sound echoing in the smoky air. "Connell," he spat. "That snake!"

Frost tapped his foot. "It's not just the supplies. The men won't be too pleased to hear what happened. Connell wants us fighting hungry."

Edwyn turned to Brandon. "What do we do now? My men can't march or fight without food. We'll be starving within days."

The kings stood in silence for a moment, their gazes fixed on the smoking ruins of the camp. Before they started to move back to their command tent, not wanting the men to see their conversation.

/

Harmond booking voice cut the night. "We should stay and fight. Leaving now would hand them the field and make us look like cowards. The men will lose faith in us if we retreat."

Edwyn drummed his hand on the table. "Half of my supplies are ash, and the rest was stolen by traitors. My men won't be able to fight. I say we leave"

Harmond glared at him. "And what happens when Connell catches us retreating? He won't let us leave unscathed. Why couldn't you just keep your men in check, or better yet have some good men with you!"

Brandon raised his voice. "Enough! Arguing won't undo the damage. We have to make a decision now. Either we fight tomorrow with what we have, or we retreat, and risk being harried back to our lands."

Edwyn gestured toward the door, where faint shouts and the glow of embers reminded them of the night's destruction. "The men are shaken, Brandon. They've seen our supplies burned and men leaving to the other side. Morale is already low. If we force them into battle tomorrow, they'll break before the enemy does."

"And if we leave?" Harmond countered. "Connell will smell blood. He won't give us a moment's peace."

Frost spoke first. "I say we leave. Better to retreat and fight another day than to throw everything away in a battle we can't win."

Harmond looked as though he wanted to argue before he sighed heavily. "Fine. We leave at first light."

Brandon exhaled. "Then it's settled. We leave before dawn."

/

The camp was eerily quiet as the men broke it down in the pre-dawn darkness. Packs were hastily secured, as supplies from the other kings were redistributed to the Slate King. Brandon walked through the camp, his breath clouding in the frigid air, helping the men to pack up.

The column moved out just as the first faint light of dawn touched the horizon, their pace brisk. For the first moment, it seemed as though they might escape without incident. But soon the sounds of marching feet crested the local hill.

From the hills came the mixed butch of men, not the full force of the army but enough of a force to slow down the allied forces.

"Shields up!" Brandon roared, his voice carrying down the line. The men quickly formed a defensive line, bracing for the inevitable attack.

The enemy rained down rocks on the column, forcing the soldiers to hunker behind their shields. The retreat turned into a gruelling slog. Brandon marched alongside the kings.

 "They're wearing us down. My men are already on the edge of collapse." Edwyn said.

"Your men are always on the edge of collapse Edwyn, cowards as always." Harmond grabbed his great sword before moving with his guards to the front line. The other Kings are quick to follow.