the timid bride

# Chapter 74 – Northern Fire

The wind over the northern hills bit through cloaks and armor alike. It carried the scent of pine, snow, and something darker—burnt oil and steel. Zara sat astride her horse at the front of the convoy, her eyes locked on the horizon where the snowy forests of Northmere stretched endlessly, wild and quiet.

They had ridden for two days, only stopping to water the horses and eat dry bread beneath stars too cold to shine. No music, no laughter. Just the sound of hoofbeats and the occasional hoot of owls watching from dark branches.

Zara's breath misted in the air as she turned to Damon riding beside her. "This place is too still. I don't trust it."

He nodded grimly. "Our scouts reported a series of hidden supply routes deep within the woods. If Corshal is hiding anywhere, it's here."

Amara rode up on Zara's other side, pulling her horse into stride. "We spotted a series of torch lights along the ridge last night. We're being watched."

Zara's fingers curled tighter around the reins. "Then let them watch. When we strike, I want them to know the storm has come."

---

They set camp near a frozen stream as twilight bled across the sky. The scouts moved out in silence, threading through snow-covered undergrowth toward a small village nestled beneath the ridge—a place called Elderglen. On the surface, it looked like any quiet northern hamlet, but Zara knew better. Corshal had supporters among peasants and nobles alike. That village could very well be hiding the heart of the rebellion.

By midnight, a scout returned—face pale, eyes wide.

"We found him."

Zara stood instantly. "Corshal?"

"No... one of his lieutenants. Ardon Vale. He's using Elderglen's abandoned watchtower as a command post. He has at least forty armed men with him—and documents. Crates of them."

Zara's voice was steel. "We move before dawn."

---

The snow crunched beneath their boots as Zara's force crept through the village hours later. Houses loomed silent in the dim moonlight, windows shuttered, doors barred. A dog barked in the distance, but no other sound disturbed the silence.

Zara raised her hand, signaling the strike.

The tower rose like a skeletal finger at the edge of the village, its stones worn but still firm. As the soldiers moved into position, Zara led the breach herself, sword drawn.

The doors were thrown open with a loud crack, and chaos followed.

Inside, men scrambled to arm themselves. Vale shouted orders as archers scrambled up the steps to take positions on the tower. But they hadn't expected the Queen herself to lead the assault.

Zara met the lieutenant at the center of the main floor. He was tall, silver-haired, and wore the black cloak of Corshal's elite.

"Queen Zara," he sneered. "I was hoping we'd meet."

Zara raised her sword. "Then let's not waste time."

Their swords clashed with brutal intensity. Vale was fast and unrelenting, but Zara had fought too many battles to be caught off guard now. Each strike drove him back. Each parry was sharper than the last.

"You think you're saving your people," Vale growled, "but you're just preserving a broken kingdom."

Zara drove her knee into his side and knocked him to the floor. "Then I'll rebuild it better—with your bones beneath the foundation."

She struck the hilt of her sword against his temple, and he crumpled, unconscious.

Around her, the tower had fallen. The rebels surrendered or fled, many dropping weapons as Damon's troops stormed the upper floors.

Amara approached with a heavy chest of documents. "Letters from Corshal. Plans for an uprising across five regions. Timelines. Targets. Names."

Zara opened the top scroll. Her blood went cold.

"This was going to happen next month," she whispered. "They planned simultaneous uprisings in the capital, Velden, and our eastern border towns. This wasn't just rebellion—it was an attempted coup."

Damon leaned over her shoulder. "And we just cut off the hand that would've pulled the trigger."

---

Back at camp, Zara sat before the fire, the documents spread before her like a web of betrayal. The faces of nobles she had once trusted stared up at her from parchment—men and women who had smiled in her court while sharpening blades behind her back.

Amara stirred the fire. "We expose them. Try them. One by one."

Zara nodded slowly. "Yes. No more leniency. No more shadows."

Damon stepped beside her, voice quiet. "And Corshal?"

Zara's voice was a whisper of iron. "We burn every trail until we find him. And when we do—he dies screaming."

The snow fell heavier now, burying the bodies outside, sealing the blood beneath a frozen sheet.

But the flame in Zara's heart burned hotter than ever.

(Word Count: 1,598)