The March of War
Chapter 10: The March of War
Harrow returned to Harrow's Reach, but his happy return was immediately overshadowed by a letter waiting on his desk, sealed with Lord Merek's personal crest. The words it contained chilled him more than the sharpest winter wind:
The Church has dispatched 25 special soldiers armed with God's Stones and an army of a thousand men. They march to annihilate you, your witches, and your town.
He crumpled the letter in his fist, counting the days since it had been sent. Four days. That meant the Church's army would arrive in just as many. Panic threatened to rise, but he forced it down. He wasn't ready to face the Church head-on—not yet. His army, while trained, wasn't equipped to fight soldiers with God's Stones that could neutralize magic. The witches were their greatest advantage, and the Church knew it.
But Harrow was nothing if not resourceful.
He called for Veronica, his newlywed, along with Lyra and Elara, the witches who now looked to him for protection. Together, they set off to the outskirts of Harrow's Reach, where Harrow began to lay out his battle plan.
"We'll use the land to our advantage," he said, surveying the terrain. "The Church's army won't expect what's coming."
He turned to Lyra first. "I need you to dig trenches—deep ones—close to the walls. Fill the bottom with sharp rocks and stakes. It will be our third line of defense."
Lyra nodded, already beginning to move the earth with her abilities. Deep, treacherous trenches began to form, their jagged edges a deadly trap for any soldier unfortunate enough to fall in.
Next, he looked to Elara, whose control over water could shift the landscape. "I need you to create a swamp between the trenches and the fields. A bog that will slow them down and disorient them. That will be our second line."
With a wave of her hand, the earth began to soften, the soil turning into a slick, muddy swamp. The ground bubbled and gurgled as it transformed, becoming an impassable quagmire for anyone not knowing where to step.
Lastly, Harrow directed both of them to work together to create trap holes hidden just beneath the surface of the swamp—holes that would give way without warning, swallowing soldiers whole. This, he decided, would be their first line of defense.
He asked them to complete it in two days.
From the walls, his soldiers—now stationed with bows and arrows—would rain down fire on any enemies that dared cross the traps and reach the trenches. The defensive plan was ruthless, but necessary. They were outnumbered, and he couldn't afford to fight fair.
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The Seeds of Doubt
While Harrow prepared for the coming storm, Sylvia had her own plans. She approached Lyra and Veronica under the guise of conversation but quickly turned the topic to the looming battle.
"You know as well as I do that the Church is ruthless," Sylvia whispered, her eyes darting to make sure they were alone. "Harrow may claim he can protect you, but when the Church is at his door, do you really think he won't turn you over to save himself?"
Lyra frowned, uncertain. "He said he would protect us…and I believe..."
"And you believe him?" Sylvia pressed, her voice sharp. "Witches are nothing but tools to men like him. When it comes down to it, he'll surrender you to the Church. You should leave with me—now—while you still can."
Veronica, standing a short distance away, overheard the conversation and narrowed her eyes. She had been watching Harrow closely since their marriage, using her lie-detecting powers to measure his every word. She had seen no deception in him so far, but Sylvia's words stabbed the trust that was building in her heart. She had already confirmed that he wouldn't betray her but still wanted to confirm one last time.
That night, Harrow gathered the witches for a meeting. Sensing the growing tension, he addressed them directly, his voice firm.
"I know you all are afraid," Harrow began, his gaze flicking to Sylvia. "That I will abandon you when the Church comes. That I will trade your lives for my own."
He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in. Then he turned to Veronica, his voice softening. "But I made a promise, didn't I? I promised to keep you safe. And I don't break my promises."
Veronica's eyes locked onto his, and she used her power once again to sense his truth. She expected some flicker of doubt, some hint of falsehood—but there was none. Harrow's conviction was real.
"He's telling the truth," Veronica declared. "I've tested him."
Sylvia blinked in surprise, but her resolve began to waver. If Veronica trusted him, a fellow witch, although married to him but still a woman with backbone, maybe she had misjudged Harrow after all.
One by one, the witches nodded their agreement. They would stay. They would fight.
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The Speech Before Battle
The day before the Church's army was set to arrive, Harrow stood atop the walls of Harrow's Reach, addressing the gathered townspeople and his soldiers. His voice echoed across the courtyard, filled with the same conviction that had won over the witches.
"The Church," Harrow began, "would have you believe that witches are evil, that they are instruments of the devil. But I ask you—who are the true deceivers?"
The crowd murmured in agreement, their eyes on him.
"The Church has sent an army to destroy us—not because we are wicked, but because we threaten their lies. They want to wipe out the truth! The truth that witches are not monsters. They are people—people like you and me, with gifts that the Church fears because they cannot control them!"
His words struck a chord. The people of Harrow's Reach had seen witches like Lyra, like Elara, and they knew the truth for themselves now. They knew how Elara used her water to save their dying crops, and filling the water reservoir.
"I will not surrender them," Harrow declared, his voice rising. "I will not bow to the Church! We will stand together—as one town, one people—against this army that seeks to crush us."
The roar of the crowd was deafening. Men and women alike raised their fists in solidarity. They would fight, not just for their lives, but for the truth that witches were not the evil the Church claimed them to be.
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The Army Arrives
On the fourth day, the Church's army appeared on the horizon. Thousands of soldiers in gleaming armor, and at the front, 25 elite warriors carrying God's Stones of Retaliation, capable of neutralizing any witch's powers.
The army halted just outside the range of the town's defenses, and a single man rode forward with a banner bearing the Pope's seal. His voice boomed across the battlefield.
"By decree of His Holiness, the Pope, Baron Adran Harrow is declared a traitor to the faith! He and his witches will be executed for their heresy. Surrender now, and you may be spared! People of Harrow's Reach"
Harrow stood on the wall, his eyes cold and unwavering.
"Never," he whispered to himself, turning to his army and the witches beside him.
The trumpet of war sounded, and the battle for Harrow's Reach began.