“That’s impossible.” Dorian Amberborn barely kept his temper in check as he processed the news of the stolen weapons shipment the messenger had just delivered.

  The exclusive dining room on the upper floor of Brightgate’s finest restaurant, usually a symbol of his control and authority, felt like a cage closing in. The rich scent of roasted pheasant and spiced wine, which once brought him satisfaction, now only served to mock his mood. The messenger before him fidgeted under his unrelenting stare, visibly trembling.

  “Explain,” Dorian said, his voice sharp but measured. Fury boiled within him, but he wouldn’t give his colleagues seated at the table with him the satisfaction of witnessing it. “How could a shipment under such heavy guard simply vanish? Speak, or I’ll find someone who can.”

  The messenger stammered, “M-my lord, the rebels . . . they struck from ambush . . . took the weapons . . . kidnapped the Windhelm merchant and her assistants. Everything in the protected wagon . . . Well, it’s just gone. They used some kind of stealth magic because none of the guards saw the theft and kidnapping happen.”

  Dorian exhaled slowly, forcing the rage to simmer beneath the surface. “Leave us.” He got the words out through gritted teeth. The messenger turned and fled as if his life depended on it.

  Once the door closed, Dorian turned to see how the others in the room were taking the news. Their expressions varied.

  General Vane’s stoic mask betrayed a flicker of concern, Mage Fenn’s calculating gaze revealed his unease, and Inquisitor Lilith Graves’ perpetual smirk was tinged with amusement.

  “Well.” Dorian forced his tone to be calm again. “I trust you all grasp the gravity of this?”

  General Vane spoke first, her voice steady. “It isn’t just the weapons, Lord Amberborn. The rebels are bleeding us dry, taking more supplies than make it through their ambushes. With the skeleton crew we have left here, we can’t stop them. Why don’t we recall our forces and clean out the pests.”

  Dorian’s lips curled into a humorless smile. “Recall? To huddle behind walls like frightened children? Is that your grand strategy, General? Shall we abandon the very purpose of this campaign?”

  Vane stiffened but held her ground. “If the rebels use those weapons against us, Brightgate could fall. Without this city, we lose our staging ground and supply lines. The rebels would swarm over the top of us worse than they’re doing now.”

  Lilith’s soft chuckle drew their attention. “Oh, Helena, always so dramatic. Do you really think the rebels can manage a proper siege? Let alone with weapons they’ve barely had time to examine? They’re pests, nothing more.”

  “Pests with explosives,” Fenn interjected, his voice measured. “Even a poorly coordinated attack could cause significant damage. Those were some of the empire’s most destructive weapons. It isn’t a stretch to think the rebels plan to use them against us.”

  Dorian’s gaze hardened. “Do you take me for a fool, Fenn? Of course we anticipated that possibility. Brightgate is safeguarded against them. Let’s leave it at that.” He gave no further explanation, his tone brooking no argument.

  Vane pressed her lips into a thin line. “Even with safeguards, the ambushing squads harassing Brightgate are growing bolder. They’ve already disrupted supply lines and communications. If this continues, we won’t have anything to reinforce our deployed troops with, much less supply Brightgate’s needs.” She stabbed at a piece of steak on her plate and chewed angrily.

  “And what would you have me do?” Dorian snapped. “Withdraw the army to guard against a handful of skirmishers? Abandon the rebel cities that we’ve already forced to evacuate and give all the scattered rebels a chance to regroup and fortify themselves in a hundred hidey holes?”

  “Still, we have to consider the long-term consequences,” Vane said. “Losing Brightgate to the rebels would render all our efforts meaningless.”

  Lilith leaned back, her smirk widening. “It’s almost endearing how much credit you give this attacking rabble, Helena. Dorian’s right. If we recall our troops before they can finish their task, we’re admitting defeat. Every vermin that escapes will spread their influence to more of the peons until this mess gains enough momentum to spread across the empire like wildfire.”

  Fenn’s gaze flicked between them, his expression contemplative. “But to risk Brightgate?”

  “It’s not a risk.” Dorian slapped a hand on the table making silverware jump. He forced himself to take a breath before continuing in an even tone. “Listen carefully. The rebels may have scored a few minor victories, but they remain fractured, scattered in the Wilds. Our forces will root them out in days, one by one, and when they return, we’ll fight together to crush these squads between them and our walls like the bugs they are.” Dorian clapped his hands together with a sharp crack that the sumptuous wall coverings absorbed.

  “I agree,” Lillith said after an unconcerned swallow of her wine. “These petty attacks are nothing but an annoyance, mosquitoes buzzing in our ears. And like mosquitoes, they’ll be easily crushed on our time table, not theirs. We can’t let them dictate the terms of the war.”

  Dorian gave her a grateful look. “Another point we haven’t made is how pulling back now will undo one of our major objectives. A main purpose behind such a powerful attack on the rebel cities is to demonstrate to citizens everywhere what happens when they entertain betraying the empire. A fast and decisive defeat will also show how much stronger the empire is.”

  He shook his head, anger boiling up inside him at the setbacks the rebels were causing. “If we retreat now, we embolden them. Every city that shelters them, every citizen who aids them, will see our retreat as weakness. We must hold Brightgate with what we have so the bulk of our troops can finish what they started. When they return victorious, we’ll clean up the dregs still here and this little rebellion will be nothing but a cautionary tale.”

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  Lilith’s quiet laughter broke the silence. “You do have a way with words, Dorian. Almost makes me believe we’re invincible. And you didn’t even mention the prizes our troops will be looting from the rebel cities. When this is done, the four of us should be swimming in more wealth and power than we’ve ever seen in the past.”

  The mention of how they stood to benefit seemed to assuage any last concerns Mage Fenn had as he went back to his meal without raising any more objections.

  Vane’s jaw tightened, but she gave a reluctant nod. “Very well. We’ll hold the city. But we should still be prepared for the worst.”

  Dorian inclined his head. “As always, General. I trust you implicitly to ensure that the defenses are reinforced and patrols work longer hours until our troops return. Fenn, perhaps you can work with our mages working in intelligence to see if there is a way to track those stolen weapons or the merchants they kidnapped. And Lilith—”

  He met her gaze, his tone soft but menacing. “Perhaps a few of your specialists can intercept some of these rebel squads and teach them the price of their insolence. Surely there are a few rebel spies here that will respond to a tempting target full of poisoned bait.”

  “With pleasure.” She grinned, a predator savoring the hunt. “It would only take one success to make all of them a lot more cautious. It’s about time we give them a few surprises instead of the other way around.”

  “Perfect.” Dorian gave them all a look that he hoped conveyed a confidence in their abilities that he was beginning to lose.

  As they finished their meal, he waffled between frustration and arrogance. How dare these vermin mess with his perfect plans. He’d teach them the fatal danger of defying the empire if it took every mage and warrior he had access to.

  ***

  Later that evening, Dorian remained in the dining room, the remnants of his untouched meal cleared away. A solitary candle flickered on the table, casting jagged shadows on the walls. He traced the rim of his goblet with a finger, his mind racing through scenarios.

  A soft knock at the door interrupted his thoughts. “Enter,” he called, his tone brisk.

  A young aide stepped in, bowing low. “My lord, one of our scouts has a defector with news she thinks you’d be interested in. He claims to have information about a rebel attack.”

  Dorian raised an eyebrow. “A defector? What kind of rebel, even a defector, risks coming into Brightgate?”

  “Our scout vouched for and escorted him. Claims to know some details he’s willing to exchange for amnesty.”

  Dorian scoffed at the idea of giving any rebel leniency, but waved a lazy hand at his aide. “Bring them in.”

  Moments later, a woman with hard eyes walked in with a firm grip on the upper arm of a wiry man in ragged clothes. His face was pale, and his eyes darted nervously around the space. Despite his apparent fear, there was a glimmer of determination in his gaze.

  “You’ve brought me a rebel with information?” Dorian asked, addressing his scout in his best command voice.

  The scout saluted sharply. “Yes, my lord. He surrendered himself to my patrol in the Wilds, claiming he had critical information you’d want to hear. I verified what I could. The rest, he insisted he’d only share with you.”

  Dorian’s gaze flicked to the man, assessing. “Speak, then. Quickly, before I decide your value isn’t worth wasting my time.”

  The man swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “My lord, the rebels can’t come up with a cohesive plan. They’re completely divided and letting our cities fall without bothering to fight back. Now most of our people are dying out in the Wilds, no match for the empire troops.”

  “Of course they aren’t.” Dorian let a wolfish smile spread across his face. “Common rabble can’t stand up to our trained army. But none of this is news to me. Do you have anything of value to exchange for your life?”

  “My life?” The man darted a worried look at the scout. “I thought you said I’d be paid and given somewhere safe to live if I told you what I know?”

  She gave him an unconcerned shrug. “Nothing is guaranteed for traitors.”

  “But—” The man’s face went pale and his breathing sped up. “I’m not telling you anything without a guarantee.”

  Dorian gave the scout a scowl that made her suddenly look a lot more concerned. The idiot should have known enough to keep flattering the man until they extracted every useful bit of intelligence from him. He sighed. Not that it mattered much anyway. A trip to Lillith and her band would work just as well and serve the purpose of keeping her happy and entertained, which was never a bad thing.

  Whatever the man saw on Dorian’s face made him blanch and begin stuttering. “B-But I’m still happy to tell you what I know. I don’t need much. Just a bit of food and a bed somewhere in the city away from the fighting. That’s all I want. Really.”

  “Well, that seems very reasonable.”

  The man relaxed a fraction before sending another wide-eyed glance at the scout. At least this time she managed to give him a reassuring nod.

  “Now tell me what details you know about the rebels’ battle plans. Specifics. When and where?”

  The man licked his lips nervously. “They plan to continue their ambushes, but are working with spies they have inside Brightgate to target your supplies, food and equipment. By destroying what you have here and stopping most of the incoming supplies, they think your forces will collapse and you’ll quit, or at least be easier to defeat.”

  “Spies? Inside Brightgate? I want names.” Dorian was not surprised the rebels had people inside the city. He’d been doing his best to do the same to them. But if he could get a list, it would be a wonderful victory to either root them out or send Lillith to keep track of them so they could lead them to others.

  “Um. I don’t know names, just that they have allies inside the walls. People who hate the empire or who owe them favors.”

  “Then when is the attack, at least?”

  The man looked even more uncomfortable. “They haven’t decided, but soon, within the week. They’re just stuck between wanting to help the refugees from our cities and taking Brightgate. They don’t have enough troops to do both.”

  Dorian snorted at the irony of having the same issue as the rebels. He clenched his jaw at the time wasted for little of value. He looked at the scout who looked much more uncomfortable than she had upon entering.

  “Take him to Lillith’s people. And next time, make that your first stop before bothering me with something of so little value.”

  She nodded quickly, licking her lips before grabbing the man and dragging him back toward the door.

  “But—” He tried to fight her, but didn’t manage much before she had him out the door, shutting it behind them with a decisive click.

  Dorian leaned back in his chair, interlacing his fingers together and resting them on his chest as he thought. Things hadn’t progressed as straightforwardly as he’d expected. But still, none of the obstacles that had cropped up should derail the main goals of their expedition.

  And now that he knew they had specific plans to attack Brightgate’s supply stores soon, it gave him the perfect opportunity to turn the tables on them. He’d leave the outside of the warehouses, along with their guards, alone. Then he’d have General Vane, together with a select group of warriors, mages and crafters she trusted, outfit the insides with a deadly trap to snap closed on as many rebels as possible.

  It was the perfect balm he needed after the setback of losing his weapons shipment. The rebellion thought they could outmaneuver him. They would learn the hard way that Dorian Amberborn always stayed three steps ahead.

  He let out a satisfied sigh. It might take a bit longer than planned, but they’d root out the rebellion, take their cities and valuables as recompense and return to Salman in position to demand a much bigger role in leading the empire than they’d ever had in the past.