Chapter 63: The Calm Before the Battle
The air grew colder as Dikun Silver's warband approached the outskirts of Karnath Gorge. Jagged cliffs framed the narrow pass, casting long shadows that seemed to stretch endlessly. The distant sound of crows echoed through the canyon — a grim omen of what awaited.
But Dikun was no stranger to the weight of expectation. He had faced battle before, both in this world and the one he came from. In Bannerlord, the gorge would have been a tactical challenge — a carefully simulated test of strategy. Here, however, the consequences were far more real.
And every choice carried blood.
---
The Final War Council
A large tent was erected at the heart of the camp. Inside, the flickering lantern light cast a warm glow over the worn map spread across the table. Dikun stood with his officers, tracing the jagged outline of the gorge with his finger.
"Varrin will assume we're desperate," Dikun began, his tone calm and precise. "He believes we'll throw ourselves against his defenses, losing men by the hundreds."
Revan leaned forward, his brow furrowed. "And if we take the bait?"
"We won't." Dikun's voice was steady. "The feigned charge will be swift and chaotic. Archers will cover the retreat while the bulk of our force loops through the ravine paths."
He pointed to the cliffside trails marked in red. "Varrin has positioned his archers here. But once we secure the high ground, they'll be vulnerable. When the time comes, we'll collapse on both sides."
Harlon's grin widened. "A hammer and anvil. The gorge itself will become their tomb."
Dikun gave a curt nod. "If we move quickly, the battle will end before Varrin can regroup. But we must be prepared for counterattacks. The black banners won't fall easily."
Elysia, though silent until now, spoke with quiet resolve. "And what of the villagers who joined us? They are not soldiers."
"They'll serve as the second line," Dikun replied. "Defensive positions. No direct combat. But their presence will bolster our numbers — and our resolve."
Revan exchanged a brief glance with Harlon before stepping forward. "The men trust you, Captain. Whatever the cost, we stand with you."
Dikun's jaw tightened. A leader's burden was to accept that trust — and ensure it was not misplaced.
---
A Night of Reflection
The camp was unusually quiet that night. Fires burned low as men gathered in small clusters, sharpening their blades, checking their armor, and speaking in hushed tones. Some prayed. Others laughed, forcing levity into the looming tension.
Dikun wandered through the rows of tents, his presence offering silent reassurance. He knew the weight that each soldier carried — the fear, the uncertainty. But they had chosen to fight, not for glory, but for the future that Varrin sought to steal.
He found Revan seated near the edge of the camp, polishing his sword with meticulous care. The lieutenant's usual humor was absent, replaced by a contemplative silence.
"You should rest," Dikun said, though he knew the words held little weight.
Revan smiled faintly. "I will. After tomorrow."
The fire crackled between them, shadows dancing across the dirt.
"You ever think about what comes after?" Revan asked. "If we win — if Varrin falls — what then?"
Dikun's gaze drifted upward to the stars. What then?
"I've thought about it," he admitted. "But the future isn't built in a single victory. It's earned — step by step."
Revan nodded slowly. "And you? What future do you see?"
Dikun's expression remained unreadable. "One without the black banners. Beyond that… I suppose we'll find out."
---
Elysia's Words
Later that night, Dikun stood alone at the outskirts of the camp, the chill wind brushing through his cloak. The distant mountains loomed like silent sentinels.
"Does the night bring you answers?"
He turned to find Elysia approaching, her silver hair illuminated by the pale moonlight. There was a quiet strength in her presence, one that Dikun could not deny.
"Only questions," he replied.
She stepped closer, her gaze unwavering. "You bear this burden alone. But it doesn't have to be that way."
"I chose this path," Dikun said softly. "The weight of it is mine to carry."
Elysia shook her head. "A leader is not defined by the burdens he bears, but by those he allows to stand with him."
For a moment, neither spoke. The unspoken truth lingered between them.
"Tomorrow," Elysia continued, her voice barely above a whisper, "the men will fight for you. Not because they are commanded, but because they believe in you. Do not forget that."
Dikun nodded, her words settling within him. Belief — that was a force no army could conquer.
---
The Calm Before the Storm
As dawn approached, the camp stirred to life. Armor was strapped on, swords were sheathed, and banners were raised. The weight of the coming battle pressed upon them, but the resolve remained unshaken.
Dikun stood before his gathered warband, his voice steady as he addressed them.
"Varrin believes we are weak. He believes fear will break us." His gaze swept over them. "But he is wrong. We stand together — not as nobles, not as lords — but as free men."
A murmur of agreement rippled through the crowd.
"Today, we fight not for conquest, but for the right to choose our own fate. We fight for those who cannot. And we will not falter."
The soldiers' fists tightened around their weapons, their eyes gleaming with determination.
Dikun raised his sword, the steel catching the light of the rising sun.
"Silver's Warband," he called, "to victory!"
The roar of the men echoed through the canyon. The storm was coming. And when it broke, Dikun Silver would stand at its heart.
To Be Continued...