Daenys pushed through the open door of the mining hall and collapsed into the chair at the desk, her exhaustion pressing on her like an unrelenting weight. Even with the quiet moment, her mind swirled with unease. There were too many pieces to this game she was now forced to play. She groaned and said, "It's going to be a long night if you just stand there, Tengri."
The six-eyed warrior leaned against the wall, ever vigilant. "I will keep my watch. I failed you in battle, Gahkar, and I will not allow it to happen again."
Daenys opened her mouth to reply, but Tasha strode in, cutting through the tension. "Then sit and watch," the Reaver snapped at Tengri, her voice sharp but lighthearted. "None of the Estil would dare harm a Heartrender. You're brooding over nothing."
Reman followed close behind, arms laden with maps, ink, and parchment. He set them down in front of Daenys. "This was all I could gather from the remnants of the city."
Daenys gave a curt nod and gestured for the others to gather around. "Point out anything useful—anything at all that could help us take the Pickette."
Tasha leaned over, tracing the northern side of the map with her finger. "Drake's Valley is here. The Fire Salamanders roost in this area."
Daenys groaned, rubbing her temples. "Fantastic. A flaming mountain full of beasts I can't use. That solves absolutely nothing." With a sharp stroke, she crossed out Drake's Valley.
Tasha chuckled. "A shame, really. Salamanders could be useful if they didn't set everything they touched ablaze."
Daenys ignored the comment, rifling through the remaining papers. They were far from comprehensive—basic schematics of the city, mining tunnel layouts, and a few notes on the water systems. But nothing on the Pickette itself. The grand tower that loomed over everything was curiously absent from the city records, save for a few sketches of strange machines and pipes etched into its outer walls.
"It's like the Pickette is separate from the city," Daenys muttered, frustration lacing her voice. "As if the people here didn't even consider it part of their world."
Reman chimed in, "They didn't. The Pickette was always an Astadian fortress, even before the Age of Gahkars. Its builders kept it separate in every way—physically, culturally, and strategically."
Daenys frowned, tapping the map with her finger. "How much ground have the Gahkar taken on the landbridge? Surely they've made some progress?"
Reman shook his head. "Not much. Rev and the other Gahkar have camps just on the outskirts of the landbridge, but—"
"But they're squabbling," Daenys finished for him, exasperated. "Of course they are."
"It's not just the squabbling," Reman explained. "The Lunar Storms force the armies back every night. The men in the Pickette only have to hold until sunset, and the Gahkar are forced to retreat or die in the storm."
Daenys's eyes narrowed. "And the Pickette's defenders—how are they getting water? Food?"
Tengri's voice was low but pointed. "The Gahkar cannot agree on how to approach the siege. They barely trust each other, let alone coordinate an effective strategy."
Reman added bitterly, "You think the bickering is bad now? Just wait until they hear about you, Daenys. A Heartrender claiming to be a Gahkar? Most will despise you outright. They'll see you as a threat, an upstart trying to steal their glory."
"Let them try," Daenys replied coolly. "If they want a fight, they'll get one."
"They won't challenge you directly," Tasha said, her voice laden with cynicism. "They'll let you bleed for your victories. If you succeed, they'll find a way to take the credit. If you fail, they'll pounce like scavengers. That's the way of the Gahkar."
Reman nodded grimly. "Kanna might openly oppose you. The Impaler's Gahkar won't tolerate another rival. And Lexin of the Outsiders is an assassin. He'd slit your throat in the dark if it served him."
Tengri interjected, his tone calm but firm. "The Enlightened do not stoop to such dishonor. You should consider reaching out to us, Gahkar. A Heartrender's influence could unite the Enlightened under your banner."
Daenys ignored him, focusing instead on the map. "How close are we to the Pickette's base? There has to be some weakness we can exploit. Water, food, sleep—no siege is endless."
Reman sighed. "The pipes could lead to something, but we don't know enough. The Black Baron is no fool. He's been fortifying the Pickette for years. He won't let us simply starve him out."
Tasha's voice was sharp. "He's a beast, like all men. Beasts don't sit idle while their supplies dwindle. If we press him hard enough, he'll show his hand."
"They're not beasts," Daenys snapped. "Stop thinking of them like animals."
Tasha shrugged. "Call them what you want. All men have a breaking point. You just have to find it."
Daenys tapped the schematic of the Pickette again, her thoughts racing. "These pipes—they're similar to the ones we used in my village to collect water from the treetops. If we follow them—"
Reman cut in. "It's a possibility, but not a guarantee. The pipes could serve another purpose entirely."
"It doesn't matter," Tasha countered. "If they're important, they'll lead us to something valuable."
Daenys stared at the map for a long moment, a plan forming in her mind. "Reman," she said finally, "how many men would it take to secure a relatively unprotected camp?"
Reman hesitated. "A small group should be enough. Why?"
Daenys pointed to the map. "I want you to take a quarter of our forces and follow the pipes. If I'm right, they'll lead to the Pickette's water source. If we cut it off—"
"We cripple their defenses," Reman finished, nodding. "It's a sound plan, but risky."
"Every plan is risky," Daenys replied. "I'll hold the rest of the forces here. If you succeed, we'll strike the Pickette from two fronts."
Reman frowned. "And who protects you while I'm gone?"
"Tengri," Daenys said simply. "His blade is more than capable."
Reman scowled. "He let you die once."
"And yet I'm still here," Daenys shot back, her voice cold. "Do you doubt me, Reman?"
"No," he muttered, though his tone suggested otherwise. "But the other Gahkar will see this as an insult. You'll be an outcast."
Daenys smiled faintly. "I've been an outcast my whole life. If the Pickette falls, no one will care how it happened."
Tasha clapped her hands together, breaking the tension. "Sweet words, but we still have a battle to fight. I'm going to find someone to warm my bed before the storm comes."
Reman snorted. "And here I thought you had standards."
"A woman's got to live, Reman," Tasha quipped. "You could come with me. I'd make it worth your while."
Reman rolled his eyes. "I'll pass, thanks."
Tasha winked at Daenys. "Your warband, your rules. Don't stay up all night, Gahkar."
Daenys shook her head, a faint smile tugging at her lips. As Tasha and Reman left, she turned to Tengri. "And you? No sharp remarks tonight?"
Tengri placed his blade at her feet and knelt. "I follow your will, Gahkar. Your life is mine to protect."
Daenys sighed, the weight of leadership pressing on her once more. "Let's hope it's enough."