Chapter 9: The Clash at the Waystation
The signal was given not with a shout, but with the sudden, sharp whistle of wind through the gorge. High above the encampment, Julian heaved his weight against the wooden support lever holding back a towering stack of heavy iron ore crates resting on the cliff edge. With a deafening groan of snapping ropes and grinding timber, the massive crates broke free, plummeting down the steep slope directly into the center of the mercenaries' eastern flank.
The impact was catastrophic. Tons of raw iron spilled across the frozen ground, scattering the mercenaries in a panicked scramble of shouts and flying snow.
Before the camp could recover its equilibrium, Valerie dropped from the rocky ledge like a stone, landing squarely in the middle of the chaos with her dark metallic breastplate absorbing the shock. Her war hammer—retrieved from her horse's pack—swung in a wide, devastating arc, sending two mercenaries sprawling into the snow. Her movements were disciplined, restrained, and brutally efficient, devoid of unnecessary flourishes.
"Valerie!" shouted one of the bound soldiers, his voice muffled through the gag.
Commander Vance recovered quickly from the initial shock. Seeing the lone female captain disrupting his operation, his face twisted into a cruel sneer. He drew his poisoned broadsword, stepping over the scattered iron ore and closing the distance with surprising speed for a heavily armored man.
"You should have stayed in the capital, Captain," Vance barked, lunging forward with a savage overhead slash aimed directly at Valerie's shoulder.
Valerie parried the blow with the heavy iron head of her war hammer, the deafening clang echoing off the canyon walls. The force of the strike rattled her bones, but she held her ground, her boots locked firmly into the frozen earth. Vance pressed his advantage, spinning low with his serrated blade, seeking an opening in the dark leather joints of her armor.
From the ridge above, Julian unslung a heavy crossbow he had scavenged from the supply cache. He took a steady, calculated breath, ignoring the biting wind, and aimed carefully at the shoulder plate of a mercenary who was raising a bow to shoot Valerie from behind. The bolt flew true, striking home with a dull thud and dropping the archer instantly.
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Valerie ducked under Vance’s sweeping blade, pivoting on her heel and bringing the heavy butt of her hammer up in a vicious uppercut. The blow connected solidly with Vance’s chest plate, sending the commander stumbling backward into the snow, gasping for air.
"This isn't about orders anymore, Vance," Valerie said, standing over him, the shadow of her hammer falling across his face. "Tell us who gave the command to execute my unit, and maybe you walk out of this pass alive."
