Karl was slightly taken aback and looked at his father.
More convenient? They had lost such an important port, giving the rebels a foothold and a possible route of retreat—how was that convenient?
The Duke seemed to see his son's confusion. Straightening up, he walked to another, larger map hanging on the tent wall, one encompassing the entire Northern Territory and the areas surrounding Field Territory.
With the tip of his riding crop, he first tapped the heavily red-circled spot marking Eagle's Nest Fortress, then slowly traced a winding dotted line that began at Fran City—one that should have run straight north, but now made a wide detour midway—and finally came to rest near Golden Scale Port. At last, the crop tip landed firmly on Golden Scale Port.
"Look here, my son." The Duke's voice was not loud, yet it carried the calm of one who saw the whole board, and even... a trace of cold-blooded calculation.
"Eagle's Nest is surrounded. That old bastard Eisenberg sends three blood letters a day begging for reinforcements, summons after summons urging us on. The Empress Dowager and the Royal Capital would love nothing more than for us to sprout wings, fly there, and leap into the Saurons' encirclement—to relieve them, bleed for them, and preferably... fight the Saurons until both sides are crippled."
He turned to Karl, his dark green eyes utterly still. "What would happen if we marched north all the way and arrived beneath Eagle's Nest City as scheduled? The Saurons would be waiting, fresh and rested, while our army would have trekked a thousand miles, men and horses exhausted."
"Would Eisenberg open the gates and let us in? Even if he did, what then? Who would supply our provisions? Eagle's Nest's granaries, which are nearly empty, or the Empress Dowager's