As requested, five soldiers arrived at my tent that night shortly before dark. I had managed to get some sleep by then and felt ready for what lay ahead. As quietly as possible, I explained what I needed from each of them and the great danger involved, then invited any of them who wished to withdraw to do so. Not one man accepted the offer, which gave me increased pride in the courage of my military. However, before we left, I eliminated two of the men. One was because I knew he had a young family at home, and the other was quietly massaging his wrist. Whatever the cause of his discomfort, he was not the best fit for my plans.
I showed them a small wood-and-iron trunk that had come from Drylliad weeks earlier, then ordered the two strongest men to carry it to the ridge overlooking the former lake bed. As we walked, I explained in more detail the risks and challenges ahead. If the Mendenwal army had the sense of fungus rot, they were watching for our attack. So although the hill to the side of the dam was steep and slippery, they would have to descend it silently and in darkness, using little more than their wits and past experience with near vertical ground. Beyond that, they would have to lower the heavy trunk with them on ropes, and then wait until my signal to use it.
“Tell me you can do this,” I said. “Everything hinges on you tomorrow.”
The three men vowed with their lives to succeed. I had their loyalty; now I could only hope for their safety. We had no second chance if they failed.
Once they left, I returned to the camp where Mott stood with the heads of my armies, awaiting orders.
“How many men do we have here?” I asked.
One of my men responded, “Nearly a thousand, sire.”
“Then I want our one hundred weakest men. Poorly armed, but on horseback.”
“To sacrifice?” another captain asked doubtfully.
“Not at all,” I countered. “To be the heroes of Carthya. They will win tomorrow’s battle for us. When the moon is highest, have them meet outside my tent.”
“What about the rest of us?” Mott asked.
“Everyone else should prepare to ride. We fight tomorrow.”
I started to leave, but Mott caught up to me. “Jaron, your plan sounds reckless and dangerous. And if I know you at all, then it’s probably impossible too.”
“That sounds about right.”
He chuckled. “Are you ready for what’s coming?”
I smiled as I glanced sideways at him. “I am ready. Yesterday’s battle was only a distraction from Vargan’s larger plan. Tomorrow, the drift of this war is going to change.”