A Silent Game of Spies

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An entire army marched at his back. He couldn’t say that made him feel any better. Driscoll had felt young and invigorated nearly forty some years ago, the last time this had happened. He’d fought the entirety of the Twenty Years War, fought it and had the scars to show for it. And his daughters.

Now, the Heir to Delsynth, the Crown Prince rode by his side, Dougall, and Driscoll couldn’t be prouder of him. His son had acquitted himself as a young man staring at the start of a war should during the War Council in Romeny.

Driscoll had five daughters, one of whom had married Rhutgard all those years ago when he was still a prince, Aolynn, but died in the child bed. If he tried, he could just remember her voice….

He still had four daughters older than Dougall, all married, and three sons, two of them squires at fourteen and twelve, and one ten. Of two wives, both now deceased, Driscoll would one day depart the land having left it with nine children. He thought that a fine legacy.

His first son would ride only another day with him, then split off with the Stafford Spears and archers, that they might follow the mountain line and come about to flank Driscoll’s formation two days’ hence. He himself would stay with the cavalry and infantry. They were riding slower than preferable, but they also had siege machines from Blade Fort. He’d sent two catapults and a trebuchet to the Clemongard Queen, and so he felt himself quite justified in keeping the rest for himself. They’d had no word back from Keldrick before Driscoll had left, so he had no idea if the Queen needed such weapons or not, but the more, the better, in his opinion.

And, in his opinion, he was quite glad it was not Driscoll being attacked on all sides by Ambsellons and Ormons and possibly even Stordish. Driscoll stole a glance at his son, who looked both pensive and stern in his armor as he rode next to him. Driscoll couldn’t imagine what Rhutgard was thinking, or Kendrick, without Keldrick. And Gerard, for that matter, for Ronan had not yet returned, and Ronan was his heir.

War. This had not even begun and he hated it already.

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