The Eagle's Flight

It was barely dawn when a thane entered Brand's bedchamber. "Forgive me, my king, for waking you, but you gave command to know the moment your spy returned."

The king blinked a few times. "I did. Tell him to wait in the parlour. And have some ale brought for us both."

"Yes, my king."

Getting out of bed, Brand moved to stand in front of a large mirror. He inspected a few scratches from the recent fight, which all seemed to be healing. He let a tunic of cotton fall down over his head and walked to the other room, where Godfrey waited for him.

"Any news?"

"None since last. But I'll leave the city soon, just in case more intelligence appears. I simply returned to let you know there is no sign the outlanders will attack today. They are still licking their wounds after the other night." Godfrey smiled before drinking deeply.

"They will return once they have made new siege engines. But you have answered my most pressing question already. At least we have today."

"You do. And the day after that?"

"We shall see. I am assembling a council to determine our next course of action. Tell me, what do you estimate our enemy's fighting force to be? After their latest losses."

"Close to eighty thousand men in fighting condition. And another four thousand riders."

Brand sat down finally, picking at a loaf of bread. "And the dark warriors, those men of shadow," he continued. "You say they guard the Godking? Rather than fight on the field for him."

"Indeed. What of them?"

"I imagine if desperate, he might throw them into the fray nonetheless."

"That seems likely. If he thought the siege might be lost otherwise."

Brand's fingers moved to his waist where his sword would usually sit on his belt. "And my sword – the blade given to me – can hurt them like no other weapon can. Is that not true?"

"It is." Godfrey cleared his throat. "Why do you ask?"

"Just considering my duty. Thank you for your answers."

The wanderer emptied his cup and rose. "Yours are not the only shoulders to carry the burden of this war, Brand. The Godking is powerful, true, but despite his name and desire to portray himself as such, he is no god. He can die, and the same goes for his fell creations."

"Good. I trust you will return immediately, should you hear anything of importance."

"Of course." Godfrey inclined his head and left.

~~~~

In the Citadel, a room stood containing nothing but a large table with high-backed chairs. Its only purpose was to serve as a council chamber for the king and his advisors, as need arose. Some hours after dawn, the commanders in his service began to arrive. Theobald, captain of the city guard, appeared as the first. Soon after, he was joined by William, the lord marshal, and Athelstan, the Order's most capable captain. They greeted each other briefly before the latter two resumed their conversation regarding the turret that had burned during the nightly assault. Alois, duke of Belvoir and commanding a significant force in the city, arrived next, taking a seat quietly in the corner. Richard of Alwood, still wearing a few bandages after his heroic defence on the walls some days prior, strode in as the last man summoned.

They waited a little while longer before the king finally arrived, carrying a scroll in his hand. Every man hurried to stand, though Brand gestured for them to be at ease. "Decorum is the last thing on my mind," he told them, taking his own seat at the end of the table and placing his scroll on it. "You may have guessed why I have bid you come."

"To discuss strategy," Athelstan suggested.

"Indeed. I have given the matter great thought, as I am sure you have as well. I believe I know the best course of action, but I should hear all counsel and arguments from you, given the weight of the decision."

"You shall have it, my king," William declared, to which the other men murmured in assent.

"We may continue with the siege as now. That would be the careful choice. While I have never been accused of caution, I see the merit of this approach, given the very survival of our realms depend on it," Brand explained. "Yet I fear the caution may be deceptive in its promise of slow victory. Our losses during the assaults far exceed what was expected. Our walls do not protect us as well as they should against the evils that our enemy unleashes upon us."

"Bastards," Richard muttered.

"While we cannot be encircled, the northern lands will scarcely provide for us. Especially as Vidrevi cannot be relied upon. Grain from southern Adalrik, cattle from Korndale, salt from Hæthiod, none of these things from Ealond nor reinforcements... We will starve come winter, and I fear our forces will be whittled down faster than those of the enemy, who meanwhile has free reins to plunder the lands I spoke of."

The severity of the situation did not seem lost on any of the grave faces that met the king. "We may have taken losses, but surely not as much as them?" asked Theobald. "With the arrival of the highlanders, our garrison is strong."

"You have the numbers," Brand pointed out. "Inform us."

"Ten thousand highlanders. Same number of Order troops. Five and half thousand rivermen." The captain glanced at Belvoir, who bowed his head. "Two thousand mercenaries, and about seven thousand levies. Though this includes many hundreds of men, whose wounds are still healing, and they may not be much use in a fight for days to come."

"How many knights?"

"Three thousand or so."

"Little over thirty thousand footmen," Brand said in summary. "Our enemy has eighty. And more horsemen."

Shock appeared on their faces. "How does my king know this?" asked Athelstan.

"You may rely on my intelligence being accurate. It has proven itself in the past." None could dispute that. "If we take further losses as we have, it will be a toss of the dice whether our garrison breaks before their forces do. And winter cannot be expected to provide respite, given we would face starvation," Brand continued. "For that reason, I am considering to meet them on the field."

The commanders exchanged looks. "If we are truly outnumbered, abandoning our walls seems... foolhardy at best," Theobald remarked.

"But unlike now, where our enemy chooses when and where to engage us, we would have the initiative," Brand pointed out. "Their spies have proven their worth several times. We are always under attack where our garrison is hardest pressed to defend."

"The terrain slopes downwards from the city towards them. It would favour us," Athelstan assented.

"By the gods, a magnificent idea!" Richard struck his fist against the table.

"If we can scatter their forces, they have many miles they must retreat," William considered. "Their supply lines are overextended, and they shall find no safe refuge between here and Lakon."

"But they are more than twice our numbers," Theobald argued. "We might expect to take such losses that we will not have the forces to defend the city! Setting aside the likely risk of defeat, if the battle becomes a stalemate, if we achieve anything less than overwhelming victory – any further defence of the city is untenable."

"I understand the risks involved," Brand remarked. "What does the duke of Belvoir think?"

The young nobleman ran one hand through his bright hair. "Given that Belvoir may soon be threatened by this scourge, I would support any attempt to drive them back."

"How?" asked Theobald. "If we can barely keep them at bay behind our walls, how are we to crush them in open battle?"

Brand took the scroll lying in front of him, which he had brought along to the meeting. Unfurling it, it revealed a rudimentary drawing of the area beyond the southern walls. "I intend the following strategy..."

~~~~

In his study, the jarl of Vale sat surrounded by ledgers, books, lists, and parchments containing various scribbles. It took him a moment to register a knock on the door. "Huh? Come in!"

One of his thanes stepped inside. "A clerk from the merchants' guild left these for his lordship." In his hands, he held yet another ledger, which he stepped forward to give the jarl.

"Good, good." Valerian received the book with glee. "Wait a moment."

"Yes, milord."

The jarl opened the book, flipping through pages. Reaching the latest entries, marked under recent dates, his eyes slid over the figures. A smile appeared on his face. "Send a message to the guilds. Tell the alderman to meet me in my study tomorrow."

"Yes, milord."

Still smiling, the jarl grabbed a quill and began copying numbers from the newly arrived ledger.

~~~~

"You asked to see me?" Jana stepped into the king's chamber, and her eyes fell upon Brand, seated by a table set with food. The smell of spiced meat and vegetables filled the air between them.

"I do not have the mental fortitude to dine with the court tonight," Brand explained, "but nor do I wish to eat alone. Would you join me?"

"Gladly, my king." She spoke the title with a wry smile, taking a seat opposite him.

"You may leave us," Brand told his servant once the latter had filled wine in Jana's cup. "I asked for a meal that might reminds us both of Alcázar, but with the siege and short notice, even my power met its limit. This will have to do instead."

"After the desert, I find that I am much less picky with my meals," Jana admitted. "I would have eaten an olive straight from the branch back then."

He laughed a little. "I did that once. One of my first days in Alcázar, in your father's gardens. I was hungry and had no knowledge of olives, so I picked one and threw it in my mouth. It was so bitter, I thought I had been poisoned!"

Her own laughter mirrored his, echoing through the room. "I remember that story! It was one of the first things you told me. Gods, I have not thought about that in ages."

"Nor me." He began carving his meat. "I wondered at something."

"Yes?" She took a sip of her wine.

"Do you remember on the boat when we left Fortönn. We thought we might reach Herbergja in secrecy. That we would be free to choose our own path."

"I remember."

"I suggested that we might stay hidden rather than return to all of this. Leave for the forests of Vidrevi." Brand raised his eyes from his plate to look at her. "What would you have chosen?"

"Does it matter? We will never have that decision again."

"It matters to me."

Jana ran her fingers down her cheek. "I would have chosen the forest."

"Truly?"

"Another thing the desert taught me. If you have water, food, shelter, and you are not alone, you need nothing else. All of this," she continued, touching the ring in her ear while her other hand gestured at their lavish surroundings. "They are simply decorations." She let out a deep breath. "What would you have chosen?"

His eyes lingered before he reached out to take his cup. "The same."

~~~~

The royal wing had living quarters for the kingthanes, keeping them close to their royal charges. The king's captain and his champion sat by one table, oiling weapons and armour in preparation of battle. Glaukos still had a bandage on his arm from a wound sustained in the last fight, but it did not seem to hinder his movements.

"How many of us will take the field?"

"Seventy," Alaric replied.

"That does not leave many at the castle."

"The king will not be at the castle," the captain pointed out. "Nor will the fighting be there."

"I suppose."

"And with luck, we will not be fighting either. If I know our king, the battle will be won without our involvement."

Glaukos scratched his cheek. "I have followed our good king even longer than you, Alaric. Whether fate or his own will, he is always in the thick of it."

"Better make sure your sword is sharpened, in that case."

"Sharper than yours, and faster, I wager."

~~~~

The sun had waned in the sky as Brand moved through the Citadel, accompanied only by one guard. He moved to the Order's side of the castle, encountering a few servants and the occasional soldier. Looking surprised at seeing the king, they hurried out of his way.

He continued until he reached a small room with a shrine to Rihimil. Years ago, he had spent the night in vigil at this place, preparing to take the knight's oath. Gesturing for the kingthane to remain outside, Brand entered alone, shutting the door behind him.

He crossed the room to kneel before the altar and statue. Leaning forward until his brow touched the feet of the god, he began to pray. "Lord of the divines, great Rihimil, protector and keeper of my life. You have been my shield through countless dangers. I pray that tomorrow, your will shall be done. Bless every soldier who fights to protect this city."

He paused and swallowed before he continued his whisper. "I believe you have kept your hand over me that I might serve you, and I will. I shall wield my sword in your service, even to the end of my life. But I ask you, if I have served you well and found favour with you, let me see the day after tomorrow. Let me witness peace, the prosperity of my people. Let me have long days with those who dwell in my heart. As your faithful servant, I pray not only for victory, but also peace."

A few moments passed in silence. Opening his eyes, the king straightened his back and rose from the floor. With a final look at the altar, he turned around and left the shrine.