The war council convened in the smallest chamber, not the great hall, not the formal council room, but the hidden study behind Aeron's library. Only the five of them sat around the table: Aeron, Kael, Theron, Seren, and Elowen.
Three days had passed since Kael's strike force marched north. No word had returned yet. The silence was its own kind of torture.
Theron unrolled a map across the table. It was not the official royal map. This one was covered in his own annotations—names, locations, estimated troop counts, supply routes marked in red ink.
"Kael will draw Thorne's attention," Theron said. "He'll chase, engage, withdraw. Keep the enemy focused on the strike force. While that happens, we send in a second unit."
Aeron frowned. "We don't have a second unit. Every available soldier is already north."
