FL - Chapter 73: Intelligence

Duke Edmund sat behind his desk, reviewing a thick stack of battle reports while an adjutant briefed him.

"The campaign against the Snowsworn strongholds is progressing well. Five of the seven outposts in the Ice-South Mountains have been eliminated..."

Edmund nodded, unsurprised.

He had designed the campaign and mobilized the entire Northlands. Several days earlier, he had personally led an attack and beheaded a Snowsworn Elder. The head still hung from the city wall.

Everything remained under control.

"Those wild dogs are finally being rooted out."

A Swiftwind Bird with bloodstained wings crashed through the window. The letter it carried reeked of blood.

Edmund frowned. It was from Snowhawk City.

"They already requested aid after two thousand Snowsworn surrounded them. I sent reinforcements. Why another letter?"

Dread stirred in his chest. He tore it open.

By the third line, he had surged to his feet. His expression changed, and the wineglass in his hand shattered.

"Snowhawk City has fallen. Count Firth killed in action. The defenders annihilated..."

Silence lasted a heartbeat before Edmund roared.

"Are you joking? Three thousand men defended that city, and it lasted only three days? Three thousand pigs would take that long to slaughter! What was that bastard Firth doing?"

The adjutant quietly reminded him, "Your Grace, the old Count Firth died two years ago. The current Count is his son."

"That explains much."

Edmund pressed a hand to his forehead. His fury hardened into a cold sneer.

"If we don't counterattack, the Snowsworn will use Snowhawk City to advance farther south."

The military advisor spoke grimly. "Retaking it by force would require at least five thousand troops. Pulling that many from the main army would expose our other fronts."

"I know, but we can't abandon the city entirely."

Edmund sketched several reinforcement routes, then crossed them out one by one.

"Three thousand men, and they lost the city in three days. Those fools are less useful than dogs."

An eagle-like cry sounded outside. Another Swiftwind Bird descended into the courtyard.

"Another urgent report?"

Edmund seized the letter and read it.

He froze, then his eyes lit with delight.

"Clearfeather Ridge has been captured?"

The report stated that Louis Calvin, a young nobleman, had led slightly more than two hundred men in a surprise attack.

They shattered the defenses, took two hundred heads, and seized the strategic position.

"Louis? The boy who traded fish for knights?"

Edmund laughed. "A young son of House Calvin with little personal strength accomplished this? What a talent! Well done, boy!"

His decision became clear.

"If Snowhawk City can't be defended, abandon it. Let the Snowsworn rot inside!

"We'll surround them without attacking and cut their supply lines. If we hold Clearfeather Ridge, no grain reaches them. They'll soon starve like dogs."

He turned to an attendant.

"Send this order to Bond. Louis must hold the pass at any cost and cannot retreat a single step.

"Mobilize fifteen hundred knights as the advance force. Gibson is to lead them to Clearfeather Ridge at maximum speed."

...

Bond received the Swiftwind Bird's letter early that morning.

It was an urgent order signed by the Duke.

He broke the seal, unfolded the letter, and stiffened.

Snowhawk City had fallen. Count Firth was dead. Three thousand defenders had been annihilated.

The enemy was now marching in force to retake Clearfeather Ridge.

"How could this happen?"

Bond's fingers trembled.

Clearfeather Ridge had become the final barrier separating the Snowsworn main force from Ice Sea County.

The battle that descended upon it would be brutal.

He forced himself to calm down and hurried to the command tent.

Louis was bent over a map, drawing upon it.

"My lord, I must speak with you alone."

Louis dismissed the others. "Speak."

Bond handed him the letter.

"I am a secret envoy sent by Duke Edmund. My previous duty was to observe you. I am now formally delivering his battle order.

"Snowhawk City has been destroyed. Clearfeather Ridge is the only barrier holding back the Snowsworn main force from Ice Sea County.

"The enemy is advancing on this position. The Duke commands you to hold at any cost."

Bond met Louis's eyes with apprehension.

A young noble with barely more than two hundred men had been ordered to withstand an elite Snowsworn counterattack.

It was nearly a death sentence.

Louis glanced at the letter, placed it on the table, and nodded.

"Understood."

Bond stared. "You aren't surprised? Worried?"

"Worry changes nothing. We only need to hold them."

"You have no other questions?"

"None."

Bond watched him in amazement.

Snowhawk City was gone and the enemy was approaching, yet Louis remained calm from beginning to end.

He appeared to be hearing news he had expected all along.

Was it arrogance or absolute confidence?

Bond couldn't know that Louis had foreseen the war's course through the Daily Intelligence System the previous morning.

He knew the enemy's numbers, route, and estimated arrival time. He also knew Clearfeather Ridge would become the next battlefield.

Louis had already arranged ambushes, deployed scouts, marked killing grounds, and planned withdrawal routes.

By the time Bond arrived with urgent intelligence, Louis was reviewing the seventh step of his plan.

Eight hundred Snowsworn elites posed a serious threat.

But Louis had no intention of meeting them head-on, trusting to luck, or waiting passively for reinforcements.

He wouldn't waste his soldiers and knights in a pointless stand.

He had found an opportunity to annihilate all eight hundred in a single stroke.