The light of dawn bathed the road as the group resumed their march. The front-line camp was close, and the tension in the air was palpable. Selene maintained her position, leading her small group of soldiers with the usual calm that characterized her. Ahead of her group, Edmund led the rest of the contingent, bearing the haughty posture of someone who considers himself the center of attention.
Astor, as always, stayed at the back of the group, riding silently. Although he continued his usual clumsiness, this time he made an effort not to delay the group. His movements seemed less erratic, and his mistakes, though present, were not as obvious as before. He had decided to tone down his act, if only to avoid angering Selene too much.
Throughout the days, Astor kept his eyes on her. He watched every movement, every gesture, fearing that at any moment she might expose him. However, what truly unsettled him were the signals Selene began to send when she caught Astor looking at her.
Every now and then, Selene would turn her head and give him a meaningful glance. Sometimes, she would accompany the look with a raised eyebrow or a barely perceptible smile, as if mocking him.
Astor didn't know how to interpret these signals. Were they reminders of their deal? Simple attempts to provoke him? Or was Selene genuinely teasing?
He couldn't help but feel intrigued. Until now, he had always seen Selene as calculating and serious, someone who never let her guard down. This playful side baffled him but also kept him on alert.
The days passed monotonously, though without major conflicts between the groups. Selene's victory over Edmund and the lack of provocations from Astor had eased the tension.
Occasionally, a soldier from one group would laugh at the other, but nothing escalated into anything serious. The discipline maintained by Selene and the attitude of Edmund—different in nature—kept order.
Astor continued observing from the rear, calculating every movement and interaction. He knew they were about to reach the true battlefield and needed to be prepared.
Finally, after a tedious journey, the group reached their destination. The improvised camp was impressive—a well-organized display of tents and soldiers stretching as far as the eye could see. There were at least a thousand people, all armed and ready for war.
The sound of metal filled the air, mingling with the orders of officers and the constant movement of men and horses. Astor observed everything carefully, taking note of the camp's layout and the various groups within it.
Upon arrival, Selene and Edmund separated from the main group to meet with the strategists and high-ranking officers in charge of the front. Both walked with opposite demeanors: Selene with her usual calm and Edmund with the arrogance of someone who believes all eyes are on him.
Before Selene walked too far away, Astor took a moment to approach her discreetly.
"Lady Selene," he murmured, keeping his voice low to avoid drawing attention. "A reminder of our deal."
Selene glanced at him out of the corner of her eye but didn't stop walking.
"What do you need now?" she asked, her tone blending curiosity with a hint of amusement.
Astor lowered his voice even further.
"I need to be assigned to some task where I won't be seen. A distant post or a secondary mission. If no one pays attention to me, I'll be able to disguise myself and actively participate with my bow without raising suspicion."
Selene paused briefly, turning her head to look directly at him. Her gray eyes assessed him, and for a moment, Astor felt as though she was measuring every word he had said.
"Don't worry," she finally responded with a slight nod. "I'll take care of it."
Astor nodded slightly, grateful but still cautious. He knew trusting Selene was a risk, but he also knew he had no other choice for now.
Selene continued on her way, disappearing among the tents alongside Edmund. Astor remained in place for a few more seconds, watching as the camp bustled around him.
Astor decided to use the time while Selene and Edmund were meeting with the high command to explore the camp. Every step he took gave him a better understanding of the environment, and with each detail he observed, his mind calculated possibilities.
The camp was composed almost exclusively of soldiers from the Drakenfell family. Their black uniforms, reinforced with leather and metal, had a functional air, starkly different from the ornate armor worn by the men of the Valenford family.
Although their equipment reflected a limited budget, the scars marking their armor, shields, and swords spoke of extensive experience in real combat. These men were not novice recruits; they were battle-hardened soldiers, each familiar with danger and survival.
While the Drakenfell soldiers moved with discipline and efficiency, the men of the Valenford family kept a low profile. The pride and confidence they had displayed during the journey seemed to have vanished upon finding themselves in clear minority.
Astor noticed the change in their behavior. There were no more laughs or arrogant remarks; instead, the soldiers from his family appeared withdrawn, fully aware that they were surrounded by a much more experienced group.
However, he also knew this dynamic would shift once reinforcements arrived. The bulk of the Valenford forces was one or two weeks away, and when they came, the balance of power in the camp would likely change.
Astor decided to ignore these tensions. His focus lay elsewhere: identifying possible escape routes, ideal spots for shooting unnoticed, and pathways he could use if he needed to act from the shadows.
He moved carefully, avoiding drawing attention. As he walked, his eyes scanned the camp for those strategic places.
As he continued exploring, a constant, rhythmic sound caught his attention: the roar of a nearby river. Although he couldn't see it yet, the sound of the current was loud enough to suggest that the water was flowing with great force.
Astor knew the river would be a significant obstacle for any military maneuver. To attack the enemy, it would have to be crossed, complicating any strategy. He decided he needed to see it with his own eyes to understand its implications for future operations.
Following the sound of the water, Astor ventured into a more isolated part of the camp. There, among the trees and uneven terrain, he finally saw the river.
The river was wide, with a fast and violent current. Its waters glistened under the sunlight, but the constant flow of foam and the deafening noise were reminders of its danger.
Astor knelt near the bank, carefully observing every detail. The channel was deep enough to prevent a quick crossing, even on horseback, and the rocks protruding in some areas posed a significant risk.
"This will be a problem for any army trying to cross it," he thought, as his mind began calculating possible solutions. If he managed to position himself strategically near the river, he could use it to his advantage in case of an ambush or direct confrontation.
He also noticed that the banks were covered with dense vegetation, offering opportunities for concealment. It was the perfect spot for an archer to operate without being detected.
Astor lingered for several minutes, evaluating the terrain and memorizing every important feature. He knew this knowledge would be invaluable later, both for protecting himself and fulfilling his part of the deal with Selene.
Once satisfied with his analysis, he returned to the camp. His mind continued working, adjusting and refining his plans as he moved through the tents.
Astor understood that every small detail could make a difference on the battlefield. And while his priority was survival and keeping his identity hidden, he also knew that, to achieve this, he would need to prove his worth to Selene when the time came. She was the key to his survival.
As the sun began to set, the camp remained bustling with activity. Astor resumed his role as the useless Valenford heir, feigning cluelessness as he wandered aimlessly. His movements were deliberate, calculated to ensure no one suspected he was actually analyzing every corner of the place.
However, his strategy was interrupted when a towering shadow blocked his path. Looking up, Astor found himself facing an enormous soldier who was observing him with curiosity.
The man was at least two or three heads taller than anyone else in the camp, with arms like tree trunks and disproportionately large hands covered in thick calluses. His skin, darker and oddly rough in texture, confirmed Astor's immediate thought: he was a Highlander.
"What are you doing wandering all over the camp, boy?" the soldier asked in a deep voice that rumbled like subdued thunder. Though his tone wasn't hostile, there was an air of authority in his words—yet also a kindness he seemed to struggle to hide.
Astor was momentarily speechless. He wasn't just surprised by the man's size but also by the rarity of finding a Highlander so far from the mountains. It was so unusual that he inadvertently voiced his thoughts aloud.
"A Highlander? Here… so far from home?"
The man raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised.
"You know what I am?" he asked, crossing his arms as he scrutinized Astor more closely.
Astor cursed his slip internally. He had spoken without thinking, and now his knowledge might raise suspicions. He wanted to return to his act of being the useless heir but, while he scrambled for an excuse, a familiar voice interrupted him.
"Don't bother, Astor," Selene said, appearing behind them with a smile. "He's my right hand, and sooner or later, you'll have to trust him. Better sooner."
Astor turned to her, surprised by her intervention. Despite being much smaller than the Highlander, Selene projected a presence just as imposing.
"Astor, meet Tharuk," Selene continued, gesturing slightly toward the giant. "He's my second-in-command. He's fought by my side for years and is probably the person I trust most."
Tharuk gave a slight nod to Selene, but his gaze remained fixed on Astor. There was something in his eyes—a mix of curiosity and assessment—as if he were trying to decipher what was so special about this seemingly clumsy young man.