Kaelen's POV.
The vibration of the war horns rattled the stone floor of the Oakhaven command tower.
"They're early," Fenrir said, his hand tightening on the hilt of his sword. "The scouts said they were a day's march out."
"Scouts lie," I replied. I shoved a black marker stone toward the western treeline. "They've been forced-marching through the night. They want us tired and panicking."
"We have four thousand men in the garrison. They have fifteen thousand," Captain Torin said, stepping into the room.
"The outer wall won't hold for more than an hour against their rams."
"The outer wall isn't supposed to hold," I said.
Fenrir turned to me, his brow furrowed. "What do you mean? If we lose the wall, we lose the city."
"We lose the city if we try to fight them head-on like soldiers," I said. "We win if we fight them like wolves. Torin, tell the archers to fire three volleys and then retreat. But not a tactical withdrawal, I want it to look like a rout. Drop the banners and run back toward the inner market."
"You want us to run?" Torin asked, his voice full of disbelief.
"I want them to think we're cowards," I said. "When they see us flee, they'll break formation. They'll rush the gate to get to the loot and the wine. That's when we trap them."
Fenrir stepped into my space, his golden eyes searching mine. "I've read about this tactic in the history book of the Black Ridge Pack. The false retreat."
"It works every time," I said. "Once they're in the narrow streets of the lower district, their numbers don't matter. They'll be funneled into the kill zones."
"I don't like my men having their backs to the enemy," Fenrir grunted.
"Do you like winning?" I asked. "Because if you stay on that wall, you'll die a hero in ten minutes. If you follow my lead, you'll be an Emperor standing over a mountain of corpses by dinner."
Fenrir stared at me, then looked at Torin. "Do it. Follow the Prince's orders."
Torin bowed and sprinted out. I turned back to the map, pointing at the ventilation tunnels for the silver mines that ran beneath the city.
"I need two hundred of your best Alphas," I said. "Men who aren't afraid of the dark. They'll be in the tunnels. When the rebels reach the central square, your men come up from the sewers and take them from behind."
"I'm leading that unit," Fenrir said.
"No. You're the Emperor. You stay in the upper keep."
"Like hell I am," Fenrir growled. He grabbed my shoulder, his grip tight.
"You've spent the last three days ruling my court. Now we're at war. I won't sit on a velvet chair while my men bleed. I'm going into the tunnels."
"If you die, the Empire dies with you," I said.
"Then don't let me die," he replied.
The sound of the first ram hitting the outer gate echoed through the city. I grabbed my twin short-swords and checked the edge of the blades. My arm still hurt, but the adrenaline had numbed it.
"Fenrir," I said, looking up at him.
"What?"
"If the tunnels collapse, don't try to be a martyr. Just get out."
"I'll see you in the square," he said. He leaned down and pressed his forehead against mine for a brief second. "Don't get yourself killed. I haven't said the marriage rites yet."
"Go," I said, pushing him toward the stairs.
I made my way to the balcony of the command tower. Below me, the archers fired their volleys, the arrows flying across the sky. Then, as ordered, they turned and ran.
As predicted, the Northern rebels burst in, screaming about the Queen Mother and the New Fang.
"They're taking the bait," I whispered.
I raised a red flag.
"Fire!" I shouted.
A single flaming arrow flew through the air, landing in a pile of oil-soaked rags. In a heartbeat, the street was filled with flame.
"Now!" I signaled the rooftop units.
Crossbow bolts rained down from above.
"Sir! The second wave is breaking through the secondary gate!" a scout shouted.
"Let them," I said. "Send the message to Fenrir. Tell him the square is full."
I didn't wait for a reply. I ran down the stairs of the tower, heading for the central square. By the time I reached the cobbles, the air was filled with smoke.
The rebels had pushed through the fire, their numbers still overwhelming.
Suddenly, heavy stone grates were tossed aside as Fenrir and his two hundred Alphas burst out from the tunnels.
"For the Emperor!" Torin's voice echoed as the remaining garrison charged from the barracks.
"Linus!" Fenrir shouted, parrying a spear thrust from an officer.
I dived under a horse's belly and came up behind the officer, burying my blade in his lower back.
"I told you I'd see you here!" I yelled back.
We fought side-by-side for twenty minutes. The square became a burial ground.
"That's him," Fenrir said, pointing his blood-dripping sword. "General Kaelen...."
"He doesn't deserve that name," I said.
We moved toward the General. He saw us coming and drew his own sword, his eyes wide with rage.
"You're a traitor, Fenrir!" the General shouted. "The Queen Mother is the only true ruler!"
"The Queen Mother will be joining these peasants on the floor soon," Fenrir growled.
Before we could reach him, a sound cut through.
It wasn't a Northern horn or an Iron Fang horn.
It was a high note that came from inside the city walls. From the direction of the East Gate, the gate that was supposed to be the most secure.
Fenrir froze, his head snapping toward the sound.
"That's the signal for the inner gate," Fenrir whispered.
"No," I said, my heart sinking. "The inner gate is locked from the inside. Only a commander has the key."
The sound of massive iron hinges grinding open echoed through the city. A second later, a fresh wave of soldiers began entering into the square.
They were wearing the Imperial black with white armbands.
"The coup," I hissed. "Hecate didn't just bring an army, she already had one prepared."
The Imperial soldiers with white armbands turned their spears on us.
"Traitors!" Fenrir roared, lunging at the nearest soldier.
"Fenrir, look!" I pointed to the balcony.
Silas stood there holding the master key to the city gates with a smirk on his face.
Beside him stood the Queen Mother Hecate.
"You thought a few executions would clean my house, Linus?" Hecate's voice echoed. "I have lived here for forty years. I know every greed, every secret, and every price."
She looked at the rebel General, then at the Imperial traitors.
"Kill the Emperor," she commanded, her voice. "And bring me the Prince's tongue. I'm tired of hearing him speak."
The rebel General laughed, regaining his confidence. "You heard her! Ten thousand gold pieces for the Emperor's head!"
We were surrounded. Five hundred loyalists trapped between five thousand rebels and three thousand traitors.
Fenrir looked at me, his face covered in blood, his breathing heavy. "We're not getting out of this one, are we?"
I gripped my swords, my eyes fixed on Silas on the balcony.
"I've died once, Fenrir," I said, my voice dropping to a whisper. "I'm not doing it again today. But you might want to hold your breath."
"Why?"
"Because," I said, looking at the massive oil vats positioned above the square. "I might have trapped them and us as well."
I threw my dagger at the rope holding the primary vat.
"Linus, what are you doing?" Fenrir shouted.
"Ending the siege," I said.
But as the oil hit the flames, the explosion didn't just take out the rebels. The ground beneath our feet began to buckle. The silver mines, I had forgotten about the pressure in the tunnels.
The square collapsed.