YM778.TV Chapter 58: Winter Has Come.
The clang of armor, the snorting of horses, and the rhythmic march of boots filled the air, creating an almost hypnotic sound as they made their way north.
On the first day, the weather was mild. The early autumn sun did only but warmed their backs, and the land stretched out in shades of brown and gold, the last remnants of summer hanging in the trees.
The soldiers marched steadily, conserving their energy. Aric, mounted on his black stallion, remained near the front, his armor gleaming under the sun.
He was silent, observing everything, from the way the soldiers marched to how the supplies were distributed during the occasional stops.
As the day progressed, they moved through the outskirts of small villages and farmlands. Peasants watched from a distance, their faces wary, knowing better than to interfere with a moving army. Aric’s thoughts were far ahead, focused on the northern settlements and how the first strike would be delivered.
By the evening, the temperature began to drop, and the soldiers set up camp in a field surrounded by sparse woods. Fires were lit, and tents erected as the men prepared for a cold night. Aric sat with Aszer and a few of the higher-ranking officers, reviewing maps and strategies by the firelight.
They spoke in low tones, discussing their route and timing.
"We push through tomorrow, avoiding the trade routes until we reach the northern forests," Aszer said, tracing a path on the map. "From there, it’s another two days until we reach the border towns."
Aric nodded, his eyes fixed on the map. "We’ll need to increase the pace if we’re to reach them before word spreads. The moment we breach the northern roads, we need to strike hard and fast."
The fire crackled as Aszer agreed. "We march at dawn."
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On the second day, the weather shifted drastically.
The warm autumn air had given way to a biting chill.
As they moved further north, the trees became sparse, and the ground beneath them started to harden. By midday, the first signs of snow began to appear, light flurries that drifted down from the gray sky. The soldiers wrapped their cloaks tighter around them, their breath visible in the cold air.
Aric rode in silence, his face obscured by the mask. His stallion’s breath came out in thick clouds, and its hooves crunched against the thin layer of snow that had begun to cover the ground. The landscape was becoming more desolate with each passing mile.
The army trudged onward, the cold biting into their bones. Despite the discomfort, there were no complaints, only the grim determination of men on a mission.
The march grew quieter as the day went on, the sound of boots against snow muffled by the blanket that now covered the ground. The sky above was leaden, promising more snow to come.
By nightfall, the snow was falling heavily, and the temperature had dropped to near freezing. The camp was set up more quickly this time, with soldiers eager to light fires and find warmth. Aric, however, seemed unaffected by the cold.
He stood apart from the others, his breath steady as he gazed out at the blanketed landscape.
The silence of the night was eerie. Snow dampened all sound, and the wind howled through the trees like a distant wail. Aric remained vigilant, knowing the harsh conditions would not slow their opposition if they caught wind of the raid.
Aszer joined him at the edge of the camp, pulling his cloak tighter around his broad shoulders. "The cold will work to our advantage. The Valerians won’t expect an attack in this weather," he said, his eyes scanning the snow-covered horizon.
"Agreed," Aric replied, his voice low. "But the cold will also test the men. We need to reach the border towns by tomorrow night. A prolonged march in these conditions will weaken the troops."
Aszer nodded. "We press on at first light."
---
By the third day, the landscape had transformed into a frozen wilderness. Snow lay thick on the ground, and the cold had become a constant, gnawing presence.
The soldiers moved slower now, their breaths labored in the icy air.
The horses struggled through the snow, their hooves sinking into the soft ground with each step. The wind had picked up, cutting through even the thickest cloaks.
Aric remained at the front, his stallion snorting and stamping its hooves in the snow. The prince felt the cold biting through his armor, but he was no stranger to discomfort. His mind was focused on the task ahead—the northern settlements were within reach, and soon the real battle would begin.
As they neared the northern outskirts of Valeria, the snow became deeper, and the trees thinned out until the landscape opened up into wide plains. The cold wind howled across the open fields, and in the distance, the faint outlines of the first settlement could be seen, smoke rising from the chimneys.
Aric turned to Aszer, who had pulled his horse alongside him. "We’re close," Aric said, his voice barely audible over the wind. "By nightfall, we will strike."
Aszer grinned, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. "No, you will strike."
"I’m sorry?" Aric turned to Aszer.
The king smiled more deviously "We do not need such a large army for a single settlement and garrison, you will lead 150 men to strike this settlement by night, I and the rest will match east and split to the other two settlements."
"Understood" The prince nodded, the king had made another unconsulted decision, perhaps to play another of his games—but this worked in Aric’s favour.
"By the time this settlement is taken, you will be met by legionaries from the north"
"Legionaries?" The prince asked a raised brow beneath his mask.
"Yes, I have spoken with the men of winter like you advised, their men will join you here and you will make base as we prepare to take valeria."
"I see" Aric nodded.
"Let’s move" Aszer commanded.
With that, the order was given, and the army pressed forward. Snow crunched beneath their feet as they advanced, their destination in sight.
The northern settlements of Valeria would soon fall, and with it, Aric would be closer to success.