Riley woke to screams.

  Not shouting. Not alarm calls. Screams of pain and chaos, ragged and overlapping, tearing through the early gray of dawn. Yet another morning that she had been ripped out of sleep, her body jolting upright before her mind had time to catch up.

  She turned her head instinctively toward the spot on the floor where Thorne had unsettled her so completely the morning before.

  It was empty.

  No blanket. No presence.

  Despite the shock it had caused her yesterday, she briefly wished he would have been there. Not for comfort, she didn’t have time for that, but because his presence had made the tower feel less exposed.

  Violent pounding shook the door in its frame.

  “Warden!”

  Valrik’s voice cut through the noise, hoarse and urgent.

  Riley was already moving. She scrambled to her feet and hauled the door open.

  Valrik stood there with two of his men close behind. His armor was smeared with dirt and blood. His breath sounded rushed, but his face was focused and controlled.

  “Raiders,” he said immediately. “They hit just before full light.”

  Riley’s stomach dropped.

  “Sixteen are in the hospital. And Bramholt…”

  Riley’s breath caught. The personalization that came just by hearing his name shook her.

  “He didn’t make it,” Valrik finished quietly.

  The words hit her hard but she forced herself to keep it together. There was no room to fall apart. Not now.

  As Valrik spoke, her eyes unfocused slightly, muscle memory taking over. She pulled up the HUD without thinking, the way she used to manage collapsing fronts and resource raids back home. Two streams of information at once. Words and data. Emotion pushed aside.

  ? Hospital: 16 Injured

  The number burned itself into her vision.

  “They must have been surveilling us because they knew where our men were posted. Knew when patrols shifted. Knew when no one was watching. And they had crossbows which allowed them to strike hidden from a distance. They hit the men stationed on food and wood in the forest first. We didn’t hear any struggle coming from that direction so it must have been instant. Then they went for the mine. That’s when I first heard the noise, but it was too late. When I came out, they were already fleeing and taking as much resources as they could carry. They were fast and organized. In and out. They left bodies behind just to slow pursuit,” Valrik recounted the details unemotionally.

  “I still don’t understand. Didn’t we fight back? How could they have injured 16 of our men? How could this have been so one-sided?”

  “Warden, all men had been ordered to focus on gathering. There was no one watching the treeline. And they didn’t have their weapons on them while they were gathering.” Valrik explained, not accusatorily, but Riley took it as such anyway. Let’s be honest, the decision how to allocate the soldiers was hers, and if there was no one watching the treeline last night, it was because she had designed it that way.

  Yet again Riley’s old gaming skills were being put to the test in this real-life context and failing. She knew she needed lookouts, so why the hell didn’t she have any? She had prioritized gathering because she didn’t see the risk. Maybe it was because she felt safe behind her tower walls, or because the presence of all these soldiers and her new hero simply lulled her into a false sense of security, or maybe she had failed to see her growing territory as a target. In all honesty, it was probably a combination of all those things. Together, it had all clouded her judgment.

  Not only did she not have lookouts, she had basically unarmed her entire troop when she asked them to put down their spears and pick up gathering tools, leaving them without even sidearms. And they were all spread out too, so they didn’t even have power in numbers. Essentially, she had taken trained soldiers, stripped them of weapons, spread them thin, and sent them out carrying fucking shovels and baskets. It was a mistake layered on top of mistakes.

  They were ambushed. That explained why she had not heard anything from the tower. They were attacked before they could even try to defend themselves.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  “How many raiders were there? Could anyone tell what house they belong to?”

  “I don’t know Warden. It happened so silently and so quickly, I didn’t even know it was happening. I was in the barracks preparing my report for you.” Valrik’s usual stoicism cracked for a moment and she could see the shame and blame he felt for what happened.

  “It’s all right Valrik. It’s my fault for not planning better.”

  “But I will find out,” he continued as if disregarding her statement that gave him no comfort. “We took two alive,” he said. “Caught them at the edge of the woods when they lagged behind.”

  Two prisoners.

  The words settled heavier than Valrik probably intended. It felt like a door opening in her mind, exposing new avenues.

  They would make important assets.

  She hated how quickly she reduced them to something useful rather than human—but usefulness was the currency of survival, and she couldn’t afford to ignore it.

  Having them meant that the ambush hadn’t been a total loss.

  How they had attacked showed planning. Knowledge of routes, timing, blind spots. That kind of precision didn’t belong to desperate bandits acting alone. Someone had watched her walls. Someone had watched her deploy her troops. And those two raiders, whether they knew it or not, were threads that could lead her straight back to the hand pulling the strings.

  Intel on their numbers. Their supplies. Their loyalties. Maybe even the house that was testing her borders.

  Riley exhaled slowly through her nose, forcing her expression to stay even. The soldiers around her were already watching, waiting to see what kind of Warden this moment would shape her into.

  “Where are they being held?” she asked.

  Valrik straightened. “In the barracks. Guarded.”

  “Bring them to me,” Riley said.

  The two soldiers that had accompanied Valrik to her door left and returned moments later with the two raiders. They were shoved forward, wrists and ankles bound, boots scraping against the stone floor.

  Riley studied them immediately. Not their faces first, but their gear. Their clothing didn’t fit the image of a loose, unorganized band of raiders. The materials were consistent, the cuts similar, the fabric layered for protection. It felt issued, or at least standardized.

  No obvious insignia marked them, but still the patterns were consistent so Riley knew they meant something. In fact, the absence of any emblems or badges felt deliberate, like the house they belonged to didn’t want them to be identifiable.

  Their weapons were gone, yet the way they carried themselves told her they were not amateurs. Even restrained, they moved with discipline, no wasted motion, no panic. Their stances mirrored each other without effort, as if drilled to react the same way under pressure. They held the same balance and confidence she saw in Valrik.

  When she examined their faces, she saw bruises that she assumed had either been earned in the process of being caught, or Valrik had already taken some liberties. The hatred in their eyes was steady and controlled, not wild. That, more than anything else, told her these men hadn’t come on impulse. Valrik was right, this was an organized crew so it was no wonder they had struck with such proficiency.

  It took effort not to react. She kept her expression neutral, her posture steady. Whatever answers they carried, she wouldn’t get them by showing intimidation or vulnerability.

  “Who sent you,” she asked, expecting silence.

  Instead of responding, one of them spat at Riley.

  It struck her cheek, warm, wet, unmistakably deliberate.

  For a fraction of a heartbeat, Riley froze. Not from fear, but from surprise. She had never been spat at before.

  The act was intimate in the ugliest way, a declaration meant to strip her of authority, to reduce her from Warden to something base and contemptible.

  Riley nodded once, slow and deliberate, as if the man had merely confirmed something she already understood.

  “Valrik,” she said quietly.

  He didn’t hesitate. His fist drove into the raider’s face with a force that carried more than obedience. The man’s head snapped to the side.

  When he turned back, blood streaked his mouth and filled the gaps between his teeth. And still, he smiled.

  Not playful.

  Defiant.

  The kind of smile meant to say you can hurt me, but you cannot make me bend. That he rejected both pain and authority.

  Riley felt heat rise behind her eyes, not rage alone, but the cold understanding that this man had chosen pain over submission, and that meant whatever answers he carried would not come easily.

  “Take him outside,” Riley ordered.

  The other raider’s eyes widened as the soldiers hauled his companion out of sight. Riley followed them to the door with Valrik close behind her. As soon as they were out earshot, she leaned in close to Valrik and spoke in a whisper.

  “When I give the order, choke him. But do not kill him. Then silence him.”

  Valrik nodded once. He understood her strategy. He joined his men outside the door and sent one of them back into the tower to stay with Riley.

  Riley stepped back into view of the second prisoner. Her voice was steady when she spoke.

  “Last chance,” she said. “Who sent you.”

  The raider remained silent. He wasn’t going to be intimidated either.

  Riley’s eyes remained locked on the man’s.

  “Execute him,” Riley said, her voice cold enough to carry and be heard by Valrik outside her door.

  Around the corner, there was an audible struggle. A wet, panicked choking sound. Boots scraping against stone. Then silence.

  Riley did not flinch. She watched as the second raider’s face went pale with the realization he was dealing with someone more ruthless than he had anticipated. Someone that didn’t like to ask more than once. Someone who would kill a man without hesitation.

  Valrik re-entered the tower adjusting his armor and took his place beside Riley.

  “You,” Riley said calmly, “are going to answer my questions now.”

  The raider swallowed hard, his defiance cracking as fear took its place.