The night was deathly still as Enoch made his way to his brother’s room. He felt no love for Eamus, but the man had a hefty weight on his shoulders and as his main military strategist Enoch felt like he’d do well to put aside his personal feelings for the good of the Citadel.
After three brisk knocks and a curt leave to enter, Enoch was inside his brother’s apartments. Eamus was contemplating the roaring fire, his fingers interlocked. He seemed deep in thought. Unsure of whether he should distract his brother from his reverie, Enoch quietly made his way towards the chair next to Eamus’ and settled into it.
Eamus’ apartments were vast and luxurious. There was a soft featherbed in the corner and a writing desk made of elfwood, and candelabras made of solid gold illuminating the place. Eamus, sober and brooding, seemed most out of place in these exorbitant quarters.
“It will be dawn soon,” said Eamus, his voice cracking like a whip through the thickened silence. “Yomadan knows that I am not going to give the armor up. Even as we speak he is rousing his soldiers and preparing them for battle.”
“This is a battle that we will not win,” said Enoch. “We can survive for a year, maybe a little more, but sooner or later they are going to break through our gates. We have not the strength to keep them at bay.”
“I am aware of that,” said Eamus.
“And yet, in spite of our inevitable defeat, you still do not give him the armor,” said Enoch. His voice was calm in spite of the rage that was bubbling inside him. “This is going to destroy us, Eamus.”
“There is a reason they want the armor,” said Eamus. “They would not have sent such a large force if they were not desperate. They could have sent a smaller force and surprised us in the middle of the night, but whatever they need the armor for is making them stupid and irrational.”
“What difference does that make?” said Enoch. “We are all going to die just the same.”
“It makes all the difference,” said Eamus. “We have something they need so desperately that they sent half of their army to fight against us, a citadel with no more than a thousand soldiers defending it. Why are they so desperate?”
Enoch sighed and said, “Why do you think they are so desperate, Eamus? You obviously have an idea and you seem eager to tell me.”
“I don’t know,” said Eamus, “but their desperation tells me that there might be something bigger going on here. Bigger than Basileus, bigger than Bazragah. I don’t want to hand the armor over to them only to find out that we escaped the battle unscathed but we are left defenseless in the war.”
“What war, Eamus? What in Rüg’s name are you talking about? We have not been at war in decades, this is a time of peace.”
“Yes,” said Eamus, “a time of peace where the largest force that has ever crossed the Northern border is at our gates. No, there is something afoot here.”
“Eamus,” said Enoch, “you don’t have the time to try and understand their need for it. In a few hours, the legion is going to descend upon us and we will have to make a choice between giving them the armor or trying to fight them off. I don’t want to subject my men to a battle that is certain to end in defeat unless there is a reason for it.”
“You said yourself that we can hold for a year,” said Eamus. “How would that work?”
“We would have to fend off the first wave tomorrow while the citizenry are fully evacuated,” said Enoch. “Most of them are already in the inner citadel but there are still thousands that have remained as they are unwilling to leave their homes and belongings behind.”
“And then?” asked Eamus.
“We will lose the outer battlements in two weeks,” said Enoch. “Half a century ago we might have lasted months without the enemy breaking through so we would have had the upper hand as far as negotiating goes but the Lords of this city have let its defensive capabilities deteriorate. They had become complacent after peace was declared. After two weeks we will have to retreat to the second level which are better preserved because its purpose was commerce not war. We can fight for six months there, eight if we play our cards right, but eventually the enemy will break through. We can make our final stand in the inner citadel for six more months at the most. After that it will be over.”
“So definitely a year,” said Eamus. “You can hold them off for that long.”
“I am going to lose my men,” said Enoch. “Every single damn one of them. Even with the reinforcements from the Free Cities.”
“If you can buy me time I will be able to learn what drives our enemy and use it against them,” said Eamus.
“I am not going to sacrifice my men for your delusions, Eamus,” said Enoch.
“You have to,” said Eamus. “That is an order.”
“Damn you and damn your orders,” Enoch snapped, rising from the chair. “The cost of your hubris is too great. I am not going to let you do this. Not again.”
Enoch shoved the chair out of his way, sending it crashing into the wall, and made for the door. As he made his way to the door, determined to take matters into his own hands, Eamus said, “You are not going to find it. You can try, but I assure you that the armor is well hidden.”
Enoch turned and said, “You’ve brought the alchemists into this, haven’t you?”
Eamus was silent, but this was all of the affirmation Enoch needed. “You are playing a dangerous game, brother,” said Enoch. “I hope you know that.”
And with that he set off, dark thoughts gathering like storm clouds in his mind.
