The morning sun rose blood-orange, casting an ominous hue over the camp. Ashoka stood at the center of the war tent, fists clenched at his sides, as Ashvath delivered the report.
"The traitors are working with external forces. Possibly remnants of Takshashila's rebels. We overheard talks of poisoning the next supply line."
Ashoka's gaze darkened. "In our own camp... my own army. My own people." His voice trembled with fury. "This ends now."
---
The Emperor's Fury
Ashoka turned to his council. "Double the guards. All wagons are to be checked. No one enters the inner camp without clearance from Ashvath or me."
One of the generals, Varuna, stepped forward. "Sire, if we act too harshly, we might drive the innocent to fear."
Ashoka's voice cut like iron. "Fear keeps them alive. I will not lose more men to cowardice and greed."
---
A Whisper in the Dark
That night, Sita visited Ashvath's tent, her cloak soaked from the rain.
"There's something strange in the air. Someone's still watching us."
Ashvath stood, blade in hand. "Let them watch. We'll show them what happens to traitors who play with fire."
She placed a hand on his chest. "And what about those who suffer because of their silence? Not everyone is a villain... some are just afraid."
For a moment, silence stretched between them—thick with tension, warmth, and the slow-blooming ache of unspoken feelings.
---
The Fire Spreads
By dawn, the camp was on edge. Word had spread: a known traitor had been executed at the gates. No trial. No words.
Ashvath watched the fire burn through the fear in the soldiers' eyes. But he saw something else too—uncertainty.
And in war, uncertainty was poison.
---
End of Chapter 27