Tales of the Vangen: The Black Ministry's Betrayal (Book 1)

Chapter 10: A Light Unlike Any

Dux had never seen the Tribunes more ragged and defeated than they were right now. He sat at the base of the table, one hand drumming across the wood as he looked them over with a curious frown. Civis had his arms crossed over his chest with one finger tapping impatiently over his gauntlet. The scowl on his face was deep and full of anger; his lips pressed tightly into a hard, thin line. Regis looked like he'd been rolling in shit. Dark smears of what Dux could only hope was mud were caked into his beard and hair, his body slumped back into the chair.

Libro on the other hand had wholly withdrawn from everyone. He stared down at the table, his purple eyes hard and deep with thought. By now, Dux had expected the boy to start jotting in his Archive, but not once had he unchained it from his side. The space the tome typically occupied felt empty in its absence. Even Culter looked slightly whipped with bruises dotting his face and arms. All four looked as if they'd gone through quite a thrashing,

Not much could be said for the magician, though. Magus sat in a daze close by, his bleary eyes staring off into space, red-rimmed with dark bags beneath that rivaled Dux's own. A long day perhaps? No doubt from a long night beforehand. He hadn't seen the magician since their last encounter here in the Commandari tent. Magus had practically disappeared, gallivanting off to do whatever it was magicians did in their spare time.

Only Nox appeared as lively as he had before. His eyes were bright and curious, flicking his gaze this way and that as he observed the cobbled mess that was the other Tribunes before turning to Dux expectantly.

If no one was going to talk first, Dux surmised, then perhaps he should instead. "What happened?"

Libro cringed and withdrew even deeper into himself. Regis mumbled something unintelligible. A muscle feathered across Civis' jaw, but he said nothing. Culter was silent, but that was hardly surprising.

"Someone give me a damn report," Dux demanded. Already he was starting to feel a migraine pressing into the back of his eyes.

"The rebels repelled our assault against the fort," Civis said matter of factly.

"Of that, I can gather as much," Dux said. "You wouldn't look like shit warmed over if you'd won the damn thing. Give me the details."

"What is there to say?" Civis shrugged. "We tried Libro's plan, and it failed miserably. Simple as that."

Dux gave an exhausted sigh and ran a hand over his face, pinching at the bridge of his nose. "Would anyone else like to add their perspective?"

"They used our siege stones against us," Libro piped up. A mutter of surprise rippled across the table. Regis was gawking. Magus tutted before slipping both his hands into his sleeves. Civis' scowl turned bitter with resentment.

Dux raised a curious brow. "Did they now?"

"I noticed their absence when we were ascending the hill. No doubt they'd been salvaging them at night when we least expected it. Most likely, in case if we ever tried to charge the hill."

Regis slapped an irritated hand on the table, making the whole shake. "Those rotten bastards!"

"Unlucky," Nox concluded.

"Yes, quite right, all of you," Dux said. "These rebels have proven themselves to be tenacious. I dare say the Vangen have finally met their match." He stared down at the charts and maps on the table, hoping perhaps that he had missed something that would give them the upper hand, but of course, there was nothing. The fort still stood. The caves leading under w collapsed. Their ammunition for the trebuchets were running low. And only one day remained.

"Fuck," The pain in his head was getting worse now. His temples throbbed. His heartbeat made one terrible pounding noise after the other in his ears. He rose from the table stiffly, felt his knees pop, felt the decade-old knots in his back tighten up. "It seems we've run out of options."