The brass compass clicked against the thick parchment, pinning down the red boundary marker right over the northern timber reserve.
"Alexander’s remaining supply lines are bleeding out," I said, leaning over the war table to trace the fresh ink routes under the dim light of the lanterns. "He’s pulled three full infantry units back from the southern ridge to fortify his inner citadel."
I glanced across the table at Diego. "Sounds like the he's running scared."
Diego didn't even look at the map. His eyes were fixed on me.
The command tent was dead silent, save for the low crackle of the wood stove and the freezing wind howling against the canvas walls. We had dismissed Miguel and the rest of the tactical officers nearly two hours ago, leaving only the map, the fire, and an unbearable wei
