A Stand Worth Taking

An Undying Love

My dearest love,

I hope you and the children are all well at home. It seems it's been forever since I last heard their laughter or your beautiful voice. I yearn for the day we are reunited, and I may finally embrace you in my arms. But though my love and longing for you are strong, my duty to the king is stronger, and I must continue to serve.

I've been stationed at a fort along the Southern border along with a small force of men, and we're far from the main battlefield as you had hoped. It's quiet in these parts, a little too quiet for some of my troops. One of my swordsmen is quite young. His energy knows no bounds, and the lack of action doesn't do any good to keep him still.

With any luck, this conflict will close soon and we may all return home. Until then, though, we'll have to-

The door burst open. Rhodes flinched and his quill jerked across the paper, leaving a stray trail of ink. He scowled at his letter, now ruined, and set his quill down.

"Captain?"

Rhodes, slightly irked, sighed and glanced up, but his annoyance quickly fell away when he saw who was waiting. Ellison, one of the scouts, hovered in the doorway. His face had been drained of all color, his breathing quick and shallow.

Ellison had always been an anxious child, but this was different. Ellison was too distraught to be simply worried. No, he looked terrified.

Realizing the gravity of the situation, Rhodes set aside his letter. He'd have to finish it later. "Ellison, report."

Ellison snapped out of his haze and pulled himself together. "I-I was on patrol as you requested, sir, and I was traveling along the ridge when I saw them. I don't estimate that they're more than a half a day's ride away. We need to act now, sir. We won't stand a chance." He began to tremble. "You need to send a letter, ask for reinforcements. Hurry, when they-"

"Who's they, Ellison?"

He raised his eyes to meet Rhodes's gaze. "The enemy, sir."

"You must be mistaken. That's impossible."

"I saw them with my own eyes, sir."

The enemy? No, he didn't believe it. Rhodes stood from his desk and shouldered past Ellison, briskly walking down to the stables.

The enemy was pushing North, at least that was what Rhodes's last letter had said. They couldn't be heading here, unless... Rhodes swore under his breath. Of course, they'd been betrayed. The troops were congregated in the Northern territories, preparing for the enemy's supposed advance through the woodlands. And with nearly all fighting force directed there, it would leave the Southern border vulnerable to penetration and invasion.

"Captain," Ellison said as he walked beside Rhodes. "What are we doing? What's our plan?"

Rhodes strode into the stables. "We gauge our opponent, then hold down the fort." He led a horse out into the courtyard and slipped his foot into its stirrup, pulling himself up into the saddle. "What's the estimated number of troops approaching?"

"More than a hundred."

Rhodes's gaze darkened. More than a hundred? His troops were outnumbered, ten to one. They'd be slaughtered within minutes. He forced a breath out, swallowed back the incipient fear rising in his throat, and threw on a confident countenance. If the leader was hopeless, then the troops would be as well.

"But, sir," Ellison continued, "what about reinforcements? Shall we request them? I'll start drafting a letter for you."

"We aren't sending for them."