Chapter 58: The Cost of Victory

The smoke from the battlefield had long since dissipated, yet the memories lingered. The wounded groaned softly as makeshift beds were arranged under the shade of the trees. The scent of blood and sweat clung to the air, and though victory was theirs, the cost weighed heavily upon the warband.

Dikun Silver stood with his officers, his gaze fixed upon the line of bodies awaiting burial. The fallen warriors of both sides lay still, their lifeless eyes a grim reminder of the price of war. He ran a hand over the hilt of his sword, the crimson stains still fresh from the battle.

"We won," Harlon said, his voice low, "but not without losses."

Revan nodded, his expression somber. "The men fought well. They held their lines, followed every command. But Varrin's forces fought like cornered beasts."

Dikun's jaw tightened. "And next time, it will be worse."

---

The Burial

The graves were dug by the hands of those who survived. Each mound of earth marked the sacrifice of a brother-in-arms. Dikun stood at the head of the gathering, his voice steady as he addressed his men.

"We honor the fallen," he began, "not for how they died, but for how they lived. They stood with courage, defying the black banner of Varrin. Their names will not be forgotten."

A solemn silence followed. The soldiers bowed their heads as Harlon placed a silver coin upon each grave, a token of respect. It was a custom from the northern tribes — a belief that the fallen would use the coins to pay passage to the afterlife.

"Rest well, brothers," Dikun murmured. "Your fight is over."

---

Tending the Wounded

The warband's healer, an elderly woman named Maeryn, moved carefully among the wounded. Her hands, though worn with age, worked swiftly as she stitched wounds and applied poultices. Dikun crouched beside a young corporal who winced beneath her touch.

"You fought well," Dikun said, offering a small nod of respect.

The young man grimaced but managed a weak smile. "Thought I'd meet my end out there, Captain. But it seems fate had other plans."

"It often does," Dikun replied. "But now your fight is to heal. We'll need you in the battles to come."

---

A Leader's Burden

Nightfall brought little comfort. The stars blinked above the camp, but sleep evaded Dikun. Seated near a dwindling fire, he sharpened his blade, the rhythmic scrape of steel against stone his only companion.

Revan soon joined him, settling onto a nearby log. "You haven't rested since the battle."

"I will when the time allows," Dikun answered, though exhaustion weighed heavily on his shoulders.

Revan's gaze remained steady. "The men watch you. They see your strength, but they also see the burden you carry."

"It's a captain's duty," Dikun replied. "Every loss, every decision — it falls on me."

"That's true," Revan agreed. "But you don't carry it alone. Harlon, the officers, the men — we stand with you. Never forget that."

Dikun's grip on the whetstone loosened. The truth in Revan's words was undeniable. Leadership was not a solitary burden. It was shared through loyalty, trust, and the bonds forged on the battlefield.

"Thank you, Revan," Dikun said quietly.

The lieutenant simply nodded.

---

Rumors of War

By the next morning, scouts returned with troubling news. Though Varrin's forces had been defeated, they were far from broken. Reports of regrouping warbands and renewed raiding parties spread like wildfire. The black banner still flew across the lowlands.

"Varrin's pride won't allow this defeat to go unanswered," Harlon growled as the officers gathered in the war tent. "He'll retaliate."

Revan traced a path on the map laid before them. "But he'll need time to rally his forces. If we move quickly, we can strike before he regains his footing."

Dikun considered the options. Time was both an advantage and a danger. Every delay meant Varrin would grow stronger, yet rushing into another battle without preparation would be a fatal mistake.

"We ride in three days," Dikun declared. "The men will rest, our wounded will heal, and we'll gather supplies. Then we march to end Varrin's hold on these lands."

A grim determination settled over the officers. The path ahead was clear, and the war was far from over.

---

To Be Continued...