The walls of Wynthorpe still smoked behind them.Elias rode ahead of the column, cloak torn by wind and ash. He didn’t look back at the dead not at the burned village, not at the bodies in the ditches. He had given the order, and that was enough.Behind him, Rhys kept silent, jaw tight. He could still hear the screams.They rode until dawn, when the road forked. The king halted, scanning the horizon. Ahead lay the next stronghold stone, cold, and unyielding.Elias turned to his captains. “We move at first light. Leave no supply unclaimed.”His tone was ice. The captains bowed and scattered to give orders. Only Rhys stayed.“You gave them no chance to surrender,” Rhys said.Elias didn’t look at him. “They burned our outposts, butchered our scouts. There’s no surrender left in them.”“That doesn’t make us better,” Rhys snapped. His voice carried enough fire to draw glances from the soldiers nearby. “You saw the women in the chapel, the children”“I saw,” Elias cut him off. “And I saw wh