The slave should have been forgotten.
Instead, she lingered in his thoughts.
Commander Vaelith stood before the war table while rain battered the castle windows.
Maps covered every inch of the oak surface.
Mountains.
Forests.
Rivers.
Supply routes.
The future battlefield of a war that had not yet begun.
King Lodrick stood opposite him.
A goblet of wine in one hand.
Impatience in the other.
"The northern tribes are weak."
"They want you to believe that."
The king rolled his eyes.
"You think every enemy is setting a trap."
Vaelith studied the map.
"No."
His finger touched a narrow valley.
"Only the intelligent ones."
Several generals exchanged nervous glances.
King Lodrick sighed dramatically.
"And what makes these barbarians intelligent?"
Vaelith looked up.
Silver ey
