Dusk at Midnight

{ 5 } A Losing Battle

Astra

"What do you mean the East Side has fallen? This is preposterous! After all the iron and steel I provided for the weapons I expected better."

"Metal is the least of our concern right now, Oakley. A little more and we will lose the first major battle!"

"But it's only been two weeks. Our troops should still be holding up."

I glanced towards my father, a little concerned. His eyes were glazed over and he was staring at something on the wall.

"Well obviously not Stren's men, since-"

"Silence!"

Everyone stopped their bickering to stare at my father in shock. He slammed his hand on the table before squeezing his eyes shut, as if he was in pain.

"What does it matter if we win or lose this war?"

"Father, please!" I exclaimed, before lowering my voice when all eyes turned to me, "Now is not the time."

I returned my attention back to the stunned men and cleared my throat.

"It seems that the Western troops are still holding up well. I believe that the best plan of action right now is for them to try to recover any survivors on the East Side."

"In other terms, retreat," General Stren said, his level gaze on me.

"Yes." I looked around the War Room at the men that only believed in the old way of war and smiled grimly. There was no way they would agree to my proposal so easily, but if we wanted to at least recover some of Stren's men....

"With all due respect, Princess, pulling back my forces would mean leaving the majority of our farmland in danger," General Bane countered, an arrogant leer on his face.

If there was one man that I could kick out of this room, it would be him. However, Bane had been the General of the West Side since before I was born and had already earned the trust of all the other generals. It made that near impossible, even for me.

I opened my mouth, about to answer, before someone else cut in.

"What of our magic users? Are they not doing anything even after all the Xealite we provided them?" Duke Oakley spat out, his fists clenched on the table.

"Now, no jumping to conclusions," Crence said, coming to my aid, "reports say that our mages are indeed contributing to the war effort, but Vereande's Shadowmasters are too strong."

"Pray, tell me why this old man is here." Oakley sneered, lip curled back in disdain.

I felt anger boil up inside me, no one--and I meant no one--insulted Crence. "This 'old man' has brought Rowana to victory countless times in the War of Derende. I will not tolerate any disrespect towards him."

I glared at Duke Oakley, daring him to challenge me. He scowled but said nothing more, choosing instead to cross his arms like a petulant child.

Bane tapped the table with the tips of his fingers, a distasteful frown spreading over his face. "Those damned shadow users--should have murdered them all when we had the chance."

A silence descended over the room and I could feel tension thick in the air. The decades old decision to leave shadow users undisturbed was still a controversial subject.

"It's thanks to attitudes like that which chased away so many them to Veraende," Stren muttered under his breath, loud enough for me to hear.

I sighed. This meeting was going nowhere. I glanced towards the map on the table again, considering our options.