Chapter 80. Buried in Her

Rafe

I look at today’s numbers and sigh into my hand, scrubbing my stubbly face. Ten thousand. Another ten thousand lost in the south. And not quite as far south as I would like. We’re being completely flattened, and there is nothing–NOTHING–I can do about it.

The nobles have sent everyone they can from their respective duchies, and we’ve even considered sending in women. Ainslee suggested that one and has been rather upset with me for shooting her idea down.

It’s not a bad idea, and it’s not even that I think women can’t fight. I know they can. I just know there are enough people, from nobles on down, who would be up in arms about such a decision, and we can’t afford that right now.

Looking at these numbers, though, I’m starting to think we aren’t going to have a choice. Sending women to war is better than seeing them enslaved or who the fuck know what else. Tormentians aren’t exactly known for their civilized ways.

There is a soft rap