Damien
The fight against the rogues had been won, and our territory reclaimed. Yet, the white note on the table made me uncomfortable…
The more I thought about it, the stranger it seemed.
I had my men interrogate some of the rogues, but we got nothing back. It was clear that the rogues themselves didn't even know who was leading them. They just answered the orders relayed to them without question.
And this was unusual among barbarians like them.
People wouldn't accept being led by strangers unless they believed they could win.
There was something else—
"My son, Damien! I'm very proud of the work you have done!" My father said, cutting through my thoughts as he walked into the room.
I nodded in gratitude, but my eyes went to his injury. "How's your arm?"
"My arm is fine; a silver arrow isn't enough to stop me," he said with a shrug.
