Chapter Eight

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  The sky black and scattered with skudding clouds. “Hector,” Draco said as he accepted a report  scroll from one of his men. “I sent you to follow her so we would know what she was doing.”

 He examined the scroll. “Not to tell her what we’re doing.”

 “I had no choice.” Hector said from behind him where he was standing with a guard.

 “Neither do I, choose a weapon.” The warlord scanned the last few lines of the scroll.

 Hector did not move.

 “Now.” Draco growled and walked over to a low desk resting to one side of the tent.

 “Get the men ready for a forced march. What’s the state of the troops? The warlord put down the scroll next more scrolls and maps which were spread out across the surface of the desk, Gar was sitting behind it with another scroll in his hands and a guard standing alert next to him.

 Hector had picked up a spear from the rack behind  him and after a moment charged at Draco's  back.

 “The first and second attacking divisions are about ready now.” Gar replied as Draco turned and caught the speak in one movement,  using Hector’s own momentum to flip him over onto his back.

 “The third is stationed at the Strymon pass.” Draco walked away a few paces throwing the spear back over his shoulder to Hector who was climbing unsteadily to his feet.

 Hector caught the weapon.

 “Mobilize one and two; they can take the high road to the sea.” Draco commanded before somersaulting backwards over Hector’s head and kicking him sharply in the back with both feet before he landed. “The third division can join us at Thrace.” He wiped his hands.

 “They can take the Strymon road and be there in two days.” Gar said.

 Hector picked himself and got ready to charge with the spear, again.

 “No, the pass doesn’t offer enough cover.” Draco said as he caught hold of Hector’s spear bringing him to an abrupt stop. He broke the point off with one hand. “March them north.”

 “Across the foot of the mountains.” He spun round kicking out and braking off another foot of wood .

 “Then they can cut east.” He kicked left with the other leg, making the spear shorter again. “…to the northern border.”

 He swung his arm up punching Hector in the face. “We’ll flank Amphipolis on both sides.”  He drew his arm back and punched him again.  “And crush them…”

 He kneed Hector in the stomach.  “…if they offer any resistance.”  He kicked out and Hector went flying backwards into the weapons rack.

 “Saddle my war horse.” Draco said before turning to leave 

  Hector started to get to his feet, then his eyes landed on an axe that had fallen next to him, he grabbed it, stood, and raised his arm to throw it. Draco grabbed a dagger from a hidden sheath on the back of his amour, spun round and threw it.

 Hector looked in shock at the dagger in his chest as he fell to the ground. “Get someone to clean off my knife.” The warlord turned to go then stopped. “Oh, and Gar, when we find her, she’s mine.” There was a dangerous glint in his dark eyes.

 “Yes sir.”

 Draco turned and left.

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