Chapter 59: The Gathering Storm

Rookhaven had barely begun to settle under Jarek's rule, yet war loomed on the horizon.

Callahan's forces were gathering in the north, and Jarek knew what that meant. This wasn't a simple border skirmish or a feint. Callahan was preparing for a full-scale invasion.

Sitting in the council chamber of Vale Manor, Jarek traced a gloved finger across the map spread before him. The northern border was a problem—a stretch of land filled with old ruins, abandoned watchtowers, and scattered villages. It had never been properly defended under Duke Orlan's rule.

Now, it was Jarek's problem to fix.

Sylva leaned over the table, her sharp eyes scanning the reports. "Callahan isn't an idiot. He won't march his forces straight into Rookhaven. He'll pick apart the outer defenses first, weaken you before striking the city."

Tobias let out a dry laugh. "Good luck with that. There are no defenses."

Captain Harlan frowned. "The northern villages won't hold. If Callahan moves quickly, he could take them within days."

Jarek clenched his jaw. He had spent weeks solidifying his rule over Rookhaven, eliminating threats within the city. But an external enemy? That was a different battle altogether.

He pushed away from the table. "Then we give him something to choke on."

Tobias smirked. "I like the sound of that."

Fortifying the North

Jarek wasted no time.

Messengers were sent to the northern villages, warning the people of the impending attack. Those willing to fight were armed. Those who weren't were given orders to evacuate southward.

Supply routes were reinforced. Scouts were dispatched to track Callahan's movements.

Meanwhile, Jarek's blacksmiths worked day and night forging weapons, while carpenters reinforced the wooden palisades of key settlements.

Rookhaven itself was prepared as well. The city guard was drilled harder than ever. Barricades were erected at key choke points. Reserves of food and weapons were stockpiled.

Jarek had no intention of letting Callahan walk into his city.

A Test of Strength

Two weeks later, the first attack came.

A small village near the border, Ferndale, was set ablaze in the night. Survivors staggered into Rookhaven the next morning, bloodied and terrified.

"They came from the shadows," one man gasped. "Silent. Fast. They killed without mercy."

Jarek listened, his expression cold. He turned to Sylva. "How many?"

Sylva knelt beside the wounded survivor. "Did you see their numbers?"

The man shuddered. "Maybe… twenty? Thirty?"

Tobias scoffed. "That's not an army. That's a damn scouting party."

Jarek's fingers drummed against the hilt of his sword. "Callahan is testing us."

Sylva nodded. "Seeing how fast we respond. How we fight."

Jarek exhaled. "Then let's give him something to see."

The First Strike

That night, Jarek led a force of fifty men north—mercenaries, city guards, and a handful of seasoned killers. Sylva, as always, was by his side.

They moved quickly, shadows slipping through the trees, heading toward the last reported location of Callahan's scouts.

It didn't take long to find them.

Near the ruins of an old watchtower, twenty black-cloaked figures sat around a dim fire, their weapons resting at their sides. Their mistake.

Jarek signaled his men.

The first arrow struck one of Callahan's scouts in the throat before he even realized they were under attack.

The second hit another in the chest.

Then, the real chaos began.

Jarek stormed forward, his sword cutting through the nearest enemy. The air filled with the clash of steel and the pained cries of the dying.

Sylva weaved through the fight like a phantom, her daggers slipping between ribs and slicing throats.

Tobias? He simply laughed as he swung his war axe, cutting men down like wheat.

Within minutes, it was over.

Jarek stood among the bodies, wiping his blade clean. "Send their heads back to Callahan."

Sylva raised a brow. "A message?"

Jarek smirked. "A warning."

Callahan's Move

Days passed. Then, another attack came—this time on a caravan heading toward Rookhaven. Callahan's forces struck hard, burning the wagons and leaving the corpses on the road for all to see.

Jarek didn't flinch.

He sent his own men north, launching ambushes and counterattacks.

Every time Callahan struck, Jarek struck back twice as hard.

Slowly, the war turned into a bloody chess game.

But Jarek knew this was just the beginning.

Then came the real news.

A scout returned one night, breathless and wide-eyed. "Callahan himself has arrived at the border."

Jarek's grip tightened on his sword.

Finally.

The real war was about to begin.

A Dangerous Proposition

Before Jarek could plan his next move, an unexpected visitor arrived.

Lady Eleanor Whitmore.

Jarek eyed her as she stepped into his hall, dressed in flowing crimson silk, her expression unreadable.

He didn't trust her, but he had allowed her to live for a reason.

Whitmore smiled. "I hear war is coming."

Jarek leaned against the table. "You hear correctly."

She studied him. "Callahan is dangerous. Ruthless. And more experienced in war than you."

Tobias bristled. "You have a point, or do you just enjoy wasting our time?"

Whitmore ignored him. "I have connections. If you want to win this war, you need allies. I can provide them."

Jarek raised a brow. "What kind of allies?"

She took a slow step forward. "A certain faction within the kingdom that doesn't want Callahan expanding his influence."

Sylva's eyes narrowed. "Who?"

Whitmore smiled faintly. "That's for you to decide, Jarek. But if you want my help, I'll need something in return."

Jarek exhaled. "And what would that be?"

Whitmore's expression hardened.

"When this war is over, I want a seat at your table."

The room fell silent.

Tobias scowled. "She's playing you."

Jarek chuckled. "Of course she is."

Then, he turned to Whitmore.

"Fine. You get me what I need, and we'll talk about your 'seat.'"

Whitmore's smirk returned. "Then we have a deal."

She turned to leave, but before she did, she glanced back at him.

"Be careful, Duke Thorn. Callahan won't stop until one of you is dead."

Jarek smirked.

"Then I'll just have to make sure it's him."