Raegar nodded, piecing everything together. The southern conflict had been a slow-burning disaster, pulling resources and attention away from the heartlands and northern frontiers, allowing the raiders to breach the empire's defences.
He thought of the villages all across the north now at the mercy of ruthless warbands. His grip tightened on his mug, the warmth of the cider doing little to ease the chill of that thought.
''What's the Duke's plan?'' he asked, glancing at the Vampress.
She shrugged, her expression grim. ''Reinforce the garrisons, fortify the passes, and pray the raiders don't break through before more troops can be marched north. Father says it's a war of attrition now, and it's looking like it will be an annoying few years.''
