“We all regret the loss, but we have to move forward and make their deaths count—”
“We? Begging your pardon, Marshal, but the decision to take the southern road was yours alone. Their deaths are on your head. Did I not counsel you to keep to our original plan?” argued Lustral.
Angry, Will stared into the man’s eyes. “You did indeed. When this is over, I will take full responsibility for our losses.”
Mark Nerrow spoke before things could get worse. “Let us focus on tomorrow. Nothing will be gained by lamenting past mistakes.”
“Unless we repeat them,” said Lustral bitingly.
Will knew he couldn’t let the man continue, so he spoke up quickly. “Are you finished? We have work to do. When this is all over, you’ll have all the time in the world to make your complaints to the king.”
A faint smirk passed across the duke’s lips, but he acquiesced. “Please, let us continue.”
Will contained his anger and pressed on, “Tomorrow evening we will reach Klendon. From previous reports, we think that our enemy spent the past year fortifying and expanding the garrison there, but the city can still only contain its sparse count of citizens and three or four thousand soldiers at most. The Patriarch could conceivably plan to face us with his main army there, but they would have to fight us on the plain around the city, and given our almost certain numerical superiority that would be a foolish game.
“Because of this, we believe he will instead seal up Klendon and count on us spending time and resources trying to take the city stronghold,” said Will, finishing the summary.
Commander Hargast spoke first. “There are three bridges that connect Klendon to the rest of Darrow. I said this last time, but perhaps you would reconsider—we should ignore the city, cross the river, and destroy the bridges behind us. That would eliminate the threat from the rear.”
“And cut us off from our supply lines,” countered Sub-Marshal Nerrow.
Lustral interceded, “If we take up a more aggressive campaign, we could take what we need from the Darrowan citizenry…”
“No,” said Will firmly. “We need an intact supply line. We’re trying to annex Darrow, not burn it to the ground. While the fortified city is a potential thorn in our side, it would be an even greater asset as a staging center for logistics on this side of the mountains.”
Commander Lambel spoke next. “We could spend a year on that endeavor! The city is old and well supplied. There’s no practical method to take it other than a siege, and to do that we’d need to cut the bridges.”
Mark Nerrow nodded. “Meanwhile the Patriarch’s main army will be harassing us continually. Even with the bridges cut, they can ford the river in small groups at multiple points. With a well-defended city in front of us and continual attacks from behind we would die a death of a thousand cuts.”
“What do you suggest then?” asked Will.
“Annihilate the city,” said his father without hesitation. “The city garrison is a tenth our size and their complement of sorcerers is very likely also a tenth of ours. Bring our elementals to bear on the city and destroy it entirely. No strategy, no fighting, no losses, we raze it to the ground, and if it turns out the city has some defense to protect it from brute magical attacks there are rituals we could use.”
Will felt a shiver run down his spine. He remembered his one occasion to be part of a ritual, and despite himself he wanted to do it again. The feeling of power had been unlike anything he’d experienced before. It was addictive. In his mind’s eye, he could imagine it already. The currents flowing around him while he wielded powers beyond imagining to wipe the enemy city from existence. Closing his eyes, he got his emotions under control and tried to reply with reason, “While that is an attractive option, I would prefer—”
“We have the necessary knowledge with us,” interrupted Sub-Marshal Nerrow. “The king allowed me to bring full documentation of the strategic rituals we might need, as well as an advisor to help us implement them.”
Will felt his face flush as his temper rose. His father hadn’t mentioned any of that previously—and he should have. “An advisor?”
“Elizabeth Sundy, a senior researcher from Wurthaven,” said Nerrow. “She has accompanied my staff.”
Will’s words had a hard edge as he replied, “In future, I’d appreciate it if you kept me informed of such important matters beforehand.”
“You have to admit