Chapter 211: Brother you must be joking.
"The McClains will be celebrating the return of our lost sheep, feeling safe, thinking the crisis has passed." He gestured with one elegant hand. "We could initiate an impromptu strike to catch them completely off guard. A lightning raid. Even if we're only able to capture a city or two, the victory would be a massive boost to our soldiers' morale and leave those bastard McClains flustered and scrambling, should it not?" Charles's eyes gleamed subtly as he mentioned this, not with bloodlust, but with the sharp pleasure of a master player moving a clever piece on the board.
Henry fell silent, the frantic energy of his panic cooling into a calm still, allowing him to regain his clarity. He stared past Charles, at a particularly vibrant cluster of purple wisteria, but he wasn't seeing it. He was seeing maps, supply lines, regiments.
