The war horn's call had pierced the heart of the siege, freezing a thousand men in mid-swing. Inside the general's command tent, the rage was a living thing. He had turned on Joris, his second-in-command, his eyes wild with fury. "Scouts! Now! Find out who dares to sound a horn on my field!"
But Joris didn't move. He stood at the edge of the tent, his gaze fixed on the horizon. "I don't think we need to, General," he said, his voice a low, grim rumble. "I think they've come to us."
The general's eyes narrowed. He strode to the tent's opening and looked out. The sun, a cold and indifferent eye in the sky, cast a long shadow on the hills. There, cresting the rise, was not a single banner, but a forest of them. The banners of the Vexin, with their distinctive silver wolf on a black field, fluttered in the wind. The general's face, a mask of cold satisfaction just moments ago, was now a portrait of pure, unadulterated fury. His game of torment had been interrupted by a variable he could not control.
Inside the castle, the men of House Galen had also seen the banners. The hopeless, desperate courage in their eyes was replaced by a wild, impossible hope. Lysa, her sword still dripping with blood, felt a wave of relief so powerful it almost brought her to her knees. It was Damon. He had received her message. He had not abandoned them. They were not alone.
Ren, his face streaked with dirt and blood, looked at her, his eyes wide. "They're here," he whispered, a prayer on his lips. "They're here!"
The general, seeing the banners of his rival, no longer had a game to play. He had a war to fight. "To arms!" he roared, his voice a guttural command that echoed across the field. "Form a line! Prepare for a charge! We will not be caught unprepared!"
On the hills, Arion, his face a cold mask of grim resolve, looked at the castle and the King's forces besieging it. He saw the shattered gate, the smoke rising from the outer buildings. He saw the desperate, defiant force of his allies. His brother's people.
He drew his sword, its steel gleaming in the cold sun. "For House Galen! For the Vexin!" he roared. "Charge!"
The Vexin army, a disciplined tide of steel and fury, began its descent, a wave of vengeance and hope hurtling toward the battlefield. The war had just begun.