Inside the command headquarters of Clift Fortress.
The Council Chamber was brightly lit, and the map on the wall stood clear beneath the candlelight. Red and blue markings showed the positions of both sides and their possible routes of advance. Roland's gaze moved slowly across the map. Every road, every bridge, every mountain pass between the Royal Capital and Clift Fortress surfaced one by one in his mind.
He could almost see Earl Eisenberg's army moving quietly through the night, see the weariness and tension on those soldiers' faces, see the oilcloth-wrapped weapons jolting about in their wagons.
He raised his head and swept his eyes over the officers seated around him. They were all old subordinates who had followed him through many campaigns. Every face bore an expression of gravity, yet none lacked resolve. They all knew that a hard battle was about to begin.
"Gentlemen," Roland began. His voice was not loud, yet it carried an unquestionable force. "The intelligence has been confirmed. The Empress Dowager has sent Earl Eisenberg and Viktor to lead an elite force in an attempt to launch a surprise attack against us. Their goal is to seize Clift Fortress in one stroke while we have yet to gain a firm foothold, cutting off our bridgehead for advancing south."
He paused, his gaze passing over every face. "They think they can catch us unprepared. They think we will panic and lose our heads. But they are wrong. We now know their plan and have grasped their movements. The initiative is in our hands."
A burly officer rose to his feet. He was Roland's deputy, Harold, a hot-tempered but ferocious fighter. In a muffled rumble, he said, "General, since we know they're coming, why not set an ambush on the road and catch them off