Chapter 14: The First Skirmish

The victory at the eastern flank was just the beginning. As Paxter Redwyne and his forces regrouped, the reality of the situation began to set in. The Gold Bank's forces, though temporarily repelled, were far from defeated. They were scattered but not broken, and their commanders were likely already planning their next move. The battle for the Reach would not be won in a single day; it would be a war of attrition, of strategy, and of relentless skirmishes.

Paxter knew this well. As he stood atop a hill overlooking the battlefield, his thoughts were already turning to what lay ahead. His soldiers were weary but triumphant, their spirits lifted by the success of the first encounter. But Paxter could not afford to celebrate just yet. The enemy was cunning and resourceful, and there was still much to be done.

"Ser Martyn," Paxter called, turning to his trusted captain, who was busy organizing the troops and ensuring the wounded were tended to.

Martyn looked up, his face smeared with sweat and dirt, but his eyes were as sharp as ever. "Yes, my lord?"

"We need to press the advantage," Paxter said, his voice firm. "But we can't risk a full assault just yet. We'll need to harry their forces, weaken them with skirmishes and raids. We'll target their supply lines, their camps—anything that will disrupt their ability to regroup."

Martyn nodded, understanding the strategy immediately. "I'll organize raiding parties. We'll hit them hard and fast, make it impossible for them to establish a foothold."

"Good," Paxter replied. "And we need to be careful. The Gold Bank is likely planning its own counterattacks. We'll need to anticipate their moves and be ready to strike when the time is right."

As Martyn set about organizing the raiding parties, Paxter turned his attention to Lady Mina, who had been overseeing the care of the wounded and the distribution of supplies. She approached him, her expression a mixture of pride and concern.

"You're planning to draw this out," she said, more of a statement than a question.

Paxter nodded. "We have to. A direct confrontation would be too risky—we need to weaken them first, make them desperate. Skirmishes will keep them on edge, force them to make mistakes."

Mina smiled, though there was a hint of sadness in her eyes. "You always were good at outmaneuvering your opponents. But be careful, Paxter. The longer this goes on, the more dangerous it becomes. The Gold Bank won't sit idle while we chip away at them."

"I know," Paxter said softly, placing a hand on her shoulder. "But this is the only way to ensure our victory. We've come too far to turn back now."

That evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, the first of the raiding parties set out. The night was cool, with a light breeze carrying the scent of the sea across the fields. Paxter watched as the small bands of soldiers melted into the shadows, their armor muted to avoid detection. They were heading for the nearest enemy encampment, a small outpost that had been established to monitor the movement of Redwyne forces.

The plan was simple: strike quickly, cause as much damage as possible, and withdraw before the enemy could muster a proper defense. The goal was not to destroy the outpost entirely, but to disrupt it, to make the enemy second-guess their every move.

Paxter remained at the command post, his eyes scanning the darkness for any sign of the raiding parties' return. The night was still, almost unnervingly so, but he knew that in the silence, the first blows of this drawn-out war were being struck.

The first sign of success came when a column of smoke rose in the distance, the faint glow of fire illuminating the horizon. The enemy outpost was burning, and with it, any hope they had of securing a forward position. Paxter allowed himself a small smile, but it was tempered by the knowledge that this was just the beginning.

As the night wore on, the raiding parties returned, their mission accomplished. They reported minimal resistance—the Gold Bank's forces had been caught off guard, unable to mount an effective defense. The outpost was in disarray, its supplies destroyed, and its soldiers scattered.

"Good work," Paxter said as he debriefed the raiding party leaders. "But this is just the start. We'll need to keep the pressure on, hit them wherever they try to establish a foothold."

Ser Martyn, who had led one of the raids himself, nodded in agreement. "They'll be on high alert now, but that works to our advantage. If we keep them guessing, they won't be able to mount a coordinated attack."

The skirmishes continued over the next several days, each one carefully planned and executed with precision. The Gold Bank's forces found themselves under constant pressure, their supply lines cut, their camps raided. Paxter's strategy was working—the enemy was becoming increasingly desperate, their forces spread thin as they tried to protect multiple positions at once.

But Paxter knew that this phase of the war could not last forever. The Gold Bank would eventually regroup, and when they did, they would likely launch a full-scale assault. He needed to be ready for that moment, to turn the skirmishes into a decisive victory.

As the days turned into weeks, the toll of the constant fighting began to show. Both sides were weary, their forces depleted by the relentless skirmishes. But while the Gold Bank's troops were demoralized and disorganized, Paxter's forces remained resolute, their morale bolstered by the successes of their raids.

Paxter spent his nights in the war room, pouring over maps and reports, refining his strategy. He knew that the final confrontation was approaching, and he needed to ensure that every advantage was on their side. The shadows within him continued to whisper, their power a constant presence, and he knew that he would need to call upon them when the time came.

One night, as Paxter was studying the latest intelligence reports, Lady Mina entered the room. She placed a hand on his shoulder, her touch grounding him as his mind raced with thoughts of battle and strategy.

"You're pushing yourself too hard," she said gently. "You need to rest, Paxter. The men need you at your best."

Paxter sighed, leaning back in his chair. "I know, Mina. But there's so much at stake. We can't afford to let up, not now."

Mina knelt beside him, her eyes filled with concern. "I understand. But you're no good to anyone if you're exhausted. The battle will come, whether we're ready or not. You need to be strong when it does."

Paxter looked into her eyes, seeing the worry there, the love that had sustained him through so many challenges. She was right, as she so often was. He needed to be at his best, not just for the battle ahead, but for the people who depended on him.

"You're right," he admitted, reaching out to take her hand. "I'll rest. But first, I need to finish planning the next raid."

Mina smiled, though the worry didn't leave her eyes. "I'll stay with you. We'll plan it together."

As they worked side by side, Paxter felt a renewed sense of determination. The skirmishes had been successful, but the real battle was yet to come. The Gold Bank was reeling, but they were not defeated. He needed to stay one step ahead, to outthink and outmaneuver an enemy that was used to getting its way through sheer force and wealth.

The skirmishes had bought them time, weakened the enemy, but Paxter knew that the final confrontation would be the true test of his leadership and strategy. He could feel the shadows stirring, eager to be unleashed, and he knew that when the time came, he would need to use every weapon at his disposal.

House Redwyne's future depended on it. The Reach was at stake, and the battle for control was far from over.

As the first light of dawn broke through the darkness, Paxter and Mina finalized their plans for the next raid. The enemy was out there, somewhere in the shadows, but Paxter was ready. He would not falter. He would not fail.

The skirmishes were just the beginning. The true battle was coming, and Paxter Redwyne was prepared to fight until the very end.