This wasn't unusual for mercenary work, but having it stated so explicitly meant Marcus Thorne didn't care about maintaining any pretense of civilized warfare.
"How many men total?" asked a thin captain with cold eyes who commanded a company of crossbowmen.
"Including your forces, approximately fifteen thousand," Marcus replied. "Against Sorne's garrison of perhaps fifteen hundred, most of whom are ceremonial guards and local militia. The actual combat-ready forces number maybe six hundred."
"And walls?" Garrett asked. "Fortifications?"
"Sorne's walls are strong but old," Marcus said, moving to the map that showed the city in detail. "My scouts have identified three weak points here, here, and here. We'll focus our assault on these locations while maintaining pressure on the main gates to split their defensive forces."
The scarred young captain leaned back in his chair. "You said we're two days out from Sorne. That's close. Very close. What are we waiting for?"
