CH278 · Rewrite
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Chapter 278: Combat Plan

The dispute ended quickly. Pikes had that effect.

The majority of actors, May had noticed over the years, were fundamentally calibrated to the prevailing wind — that was how arguments started among them in the first place. With the wind now blowing firmly in the other direction, Bella was escorted out of the lounge by her two companions without another word. The rest filed after them in the manner of people who had just remembered pressing obligations elsewhere.

Carter dismissed his soldiers and surveyed the quiet room.

Gheit, Rosia, and the others bowed. “Thank you, Sir Carter.”

“You were incredible,” Irene told May, gripping her hands. “Two or three sentences and she had nothing left to say. And the slap — you should have seen her face.”

May gently reclaimed her hands. She did not feel incredible. The slap had been reactive, which was the same as saying it had been a mistake, and she would be doing the accounting on that later.

She turned to Carter. “Why are you in Longsong Stronghold?”

“I might ask what brings you to backstage,” Carter said, which was not an answer.

“I live here. You don’t.”

“Fair. Can I invite you for a drink and explain properly?”

The others slipped away one by one, Irene included, each suddenly recalling something they had to attend to. By the time they reached May’s residence, the group had reduced to the two of them.


Carter looked around the small room with the careful expression of someone not wanting to say the wrong thing.

“Quite ordinary,” he managed.

“Yes.” May took a bottle of white wine from the cupboard and poured him a small cup. “The taverns open later. This is my invitation.” Her father would return in the evening; for now the house was quiet. She poured herself one as well and sat.

Carter held his cup. “Your family…?”

“My mother died when I was young. My father does odd work at the theater — loading, cleaning, whatever they need.” She stated it without emphasis. The house was small and old, in a back alley of the inner city, but she had bought it herself after becoming the Star of the West, for a straightforward reason: it was indoors, it was hers, and it ended the harassment from the outer city. “What brings you here?”

He explained. A coded letter from Theo — a force of approximately a thousand people moving from King’s City toward the Western Border. Roland had marched with the majority of the First Army. Carter had come ahead with a smaller contingent to reinforce the Second Army’s night watch, prepare the stronghold’s defenses, and alert the Honeysuckle family in case someone attempted the gates.

“You shouldn’t have told me any of that,” May said.

“You asked. And it isn’t a covert operation — the city’s defenses being reinforced is not a secret.” He looked unbothered. “I still have discretion.”

“Good.” She looked at his cup. “You saw the performance?”

“The last part of it.” He seemed genuinely pleased. “Even the finale was extraordinary. Seeing you on a real theater stage — I wondered what it would be like.” He paused. “I went to the backstage entrance after, but I couldn’t decide whether to knock. So I was standing outside, and then I heard—”

“You were out there the whole time,” May said.

“I wasn’t eavesdropping deliberately. I give you my word.”

She felt laughter come up unexpectedly and let it out. “I don’t blame you. Don’t look like that.”

His relief was visible. He reached for his cup. She stopped him.

“You’re on duty tonight.” She shook a finger once. “One cup only. But—” She smiled. “When the mission is finished, you can invite me properly.”

After he left, May poured herself another glass and settled back.

The wine had changed on her since she first tasted it. Or she had changed in relation to it. The first glass had been difficult — too strong, too dry, nothing like the sweet fruit wines she’d grown up knowing — but she had kept drinking because she was curious about what was underneath the difficulty, and what she found there was a richness and warmth that the sweet wines could not touch.

It’s like that with some things, she thought. You have to get through the first part before you can find out what it actually is.

As for Carter’s invitation, which was not yet an invitation but would be — she already had an answer taking shape. She wasn’t ready to say it yet, which was fine. Some things benefited from being held quietly for a while, the way wine did.

After the theater season ends, I might bring my father and settle in Border Town.

She let the thought sit there, unexamined, simply present.


Roland arrived in Longsong Stronghold two days later.

Petrov and representatives of the five families met him outside the city walls. After stationing the First Army and giving the horses water, he went directly to the castle and held a brief meeting.

“Reliable intelligence indicates Timothy has raised a force currently advancing toward the stronghold,” Roland said from the lord’s seat at the top of the hall steps, the assembled nobles below him. “The precise number and route are as yet unknown, but their destination is unambiguous. Based on Timothy’s established pattern, he will supplement his numbers along the march by forcibly conscripting civilians and administering drugs to compel them to fight.”

The eldest son of the Wolf Family raised his hand. “The drugs, Your Highness?”

“A red pill. It grants civilian-level people temporary strength exceeding a trained knight’s, then kills them when it wears off.” Roland gave the four families who had not previously encountered this a brief account — what it was, where it came from, how Timothy had used it. Then: “This is the method by which he continues to weaken the Western Territory’s population while expanding his own force. Anyone he cannot conscript, he loots. Your territories are not exempt.” He looked down the row of faces. “I am asking you to explain this situation clearly to your household staff and to the commoners on your lands. Transfer all of them into the city within three days. Once I have driven Timothy’s forces back, everyone may return.”

“Our warehouses—”

“Move what you can. Three days. Anyone remaining outside the stronghold walls when that window closes is beyond my ability to protect.”

After the meeting he summoned Iron Axe.

The real situation was more specific than he had disclosed to the nobility. Lightning and Maggie had already tracked the enemy’s movements with precision: Timothy’s force was traveling by sailboat, moving down the Redwater River channel toward Willow Town, intending to enter the Western Territory’s interior by water. The river forked at a junction — one branch reached south toward Longsong Stronghold’s eastern and southern gates, the other continued westward toward Border Town.

If Roland positioned defensive forces at both points, his strength would be divided. The enemy could concentrate against whichever was weaker. He needed to concentrate superior firepower at the junction itself and destroy the fleet before it had any choice to make.

The Redwater River fork was the site of the ambush.

“The First Army sets out this afternoon,” Roland told Iron Axe. “Timothy’s ships are expected at the junction in four days. Meet up with Border Town’s defensive forces at the site and assume overall command. I’ll follow as quickly as possible.” He paused. “Leave one hundred soldiers in the stronghold to watch the nobles.”

Iron Axe looked up. “Stay here?”

“The reason I gathered them was to make surveillance easier. They now know Timothy is moving against the Western Territory, which means the possibility exists that some of them may recalculate their loyalties. The Second Army doesn’t have the combat experience to manage an unexpected situation. Ten squadrons of First Army soldiers in this building ensures the nobles cannot cause problems while I’m dealing with their cause.” Roland met his eyes. “I will not fight Timothy at the Redwater junction and have riots starting at my back.”

“As you bid, Your Highness.”

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