I stood over the primary tactical grid, compass in hand, watching the signal fires flare along the lower valley.
"Ophelia!" a lookout called out from the eastern parapet, his spyglass fixed on the riverbank below. "Thomas has split his infantry. Two hundred men are pushing into the lower fork narrows, attempting to breach the secondary palisade."
"He’s falling straight into the choke point," I said, my lips tightening a bit. I turned to the signal runner holding the silver lanterns. "Flash three red bursts to the western ridge. Signal Julio to unleash the catapults on the river bed."
"At once!"
Down in the muddy ravine, three red lanterns flashed from our tower. Seconds later, a deafening crack echoed into the air as boulders rained down onto Silver Crest’s advancing line, shattering
