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609. Like Lambs to the Slaughter
🕑 Added 2024-03-20 08:00:03 +0000 UTCThe sentinels spied the returning legionaries from afar. Even from a distance, it could be seen that they had reduced numbers, which drew many to the walls, watching and speculating loudly what had happened. Sharp commands from Avery sent them scurrying back to their tents or duties; as the mageknight descended from the ramparts, she exchanged a look with Martel and Eleanor, but said nothing.
***
Marching back into the camp, the legionaries had the weary, subdued mood of soldiers returning from a battle gone awry. Martel cast a look from the walls down at the pasture; he could not count the remaining horses at a glance, but their number was certainly less than two hundred.
Once the column of soldiers was all safely back inside the defences, the prefects gathered in the decurion's tent. Silently, three of them looked at Valerius and Dominic, awaiting explanations.
"We were outnumbered," the decurion finally said, and he practically fell down to sit on his cot. He had bruises on his faces, and his armour looked torn in places. "We made sure to advance much further south, far from where you met their blasted cannon. They could not possibly have moved it fast enough to where we approached the forest."
"It does not matter when they had another," Valerius remarked. Unlike his fellow prefect, he appeared in better condition; dirty from battle, but not wounded as such.
"How could they have known to expect us that far south? Just how many cannons do these Nether-born bastards haul around? The first spray of metal slaughtered the horses from under us," Dominic lamented.
"Followed up by a barrage of bullets. We closed the gap and made them pay," Valerius related, "but it seems foolish to hope their losses equalled ours."
"How did the battle conclude?" Avery asked; she always wore a serious expression, but now she looked downright grave.
"Darkness came. We both retreated. Nothing further to be won, so we came back here," Valerius explained. "We must have lost over a hundred men. Twice that are wounded."
"What should we do?" Eleanor asked, directing her question at Avery.
Yet before the mageknight could respond, the decurion got on his feet and spoke up. "We have our orders. They got lucky with their positions, but that will not help them against the legion. We wait for the legate and hold the area as commanded."
"Of course," Avery replied in a neutral voice. "You should both rest. I will look to your wounded and what else needs attention." She left the tent, with Martel and Eleanor following right behind.
Once outside, as the cohort prefect stalked away, the other mageknight hurried to catch up. "Sir Avery, a moment," Eleanor requested. "What would you have said if Sir Dominic had not spoken before you?"
Sir Avery stood silent for a moment, looking from Eleanor to Martel. "It does not matter. We sent more than half our forces, and they could not break through the forest line. Another attempt would require that we committed our full numbers, effectively abandoning this position. The decurion will never agree to this, if I know him right."
"But you do think that is what we should do?" Martel asked.
Once more, her eyes wandered from between the battlemage and his protector. "Yes," she replied with a low voice. "We have had no communications with the legion for days, and they were long since meant to have arrived. It is clear our enemy were able to mobilise and react to our presence much faster than we expected."
"But still, even if the legion is delayed, surely it must be able to punch through whatever force the Khivans have in the woods?" Eleanor considered. "They may have been able to move a few thousand around our camp and into position, but they can hardly have more numbers than that. We would have noticed such an army."
"True, but given the terrain, they do not need to match our numbers. I trust our fellow prefects when they say that they attacked much further south compared to my own engagement, and I do not think it coincidence the Khivans had another cannon nearby to counter their attack. This suggests a high number of artillery," Avery explained.
Martel felt a cold shiver down his spine. He remembered the fight in the marshes, seeing a cannonball rip two legionaries to pieces right in front of him.
"Since the cannons are not much use inside the forest, they have placed them all to face us approaching from open land. Meanwhile, their infantry can fight a series of skirmishes that delay our legion's advance and incur casualties. Given how many days the Tenth must travel through the forest, if the Khivans were in position early to begin attacking and harassing soon after they left the outpost… All of this is speculation on my side, of course, because I said, we have had no communication. Now excuse me – I must get an accurate count of our losses and wounded."
She walked away at her usual brisk pace, leaving behind a battlemage exchanging worried looks with his protector.
***
Martel woke in the night to the sound of muskets firing. His heart drummed at double speed, and he almost summoned fire right where he was until he realised it came from far away, and he was in his tent with Eleanor on the other side of the divide. She stirred as well. Both of them crawled out and got up, looking at each other. Around them, the camp was likewise being rustled awake, with shouts and people running about, adding more confusion.
"The sounds are coming from the west," Eleanor said, and they both turned their eyes in that direction, though the darkness prevented them from seeing much.
Each picking up their weapon, they ran towards the noise. Many others had done the same, crowding the ramparts around the gate. Pushing their way forward, the two mages made it up to the wall and stared into the dark beyond the camp.
Martel crouched a little to be smaller behind the wall, aware that he was not wearing any armour. He let his magic sweep out to sense any heat, but he only felt the horses in the pasture. Nothing that suggested humans hiding in the dark – unless they hid among the beasts, of course. They were clearly upset, making frightful sounds; the noise of muskets firing had to be terrifying to them.
"Do you sense anything?" Eleanor asked, knowing what Martel was doing.
"Just the horses. They might be among them, but that seems foolish. All the noise is scaring the animals. Could this be a diversion?" he suddenly realised.
"Maybe. They are attracting a lot of attention," she considered.
The shots continued intermittently. Based on how fast Khivan musketmen could reload, Martel estimated no more than five or six. "This is a ruse," he muttered. "They are going to assault us elsewhere, probably the other gate. We should get in armour."
"Agreed." Though rather than walk away, Eleanor squinted out in the dark. "That sound – are the horses kicking up against the fence?"
"It's not a diversion," Martel finally understood. "They're shooting our mounts."
***
By the time Eleanor and Martel had donned their armour and returned to the gate, the Khivans had already withdrawn. No further shots were fired; they had done the damage as intended and made their retreat. Just to be sure, the two mages did a swift investigation in the immediate area, and Martel put his magical sense to use in the dark; all enemies had retreated, leaving only dozens of carcasses and the smell of blood behind.
~
Martel's character sheet (no change).
Comments
Quill
Glad to hear it. There's a lot more coming, both in the short, mid and long term.
Matthew Flowers
Anxiety Triggered
Grumble
I am a huge fan of military fantasy. So far I am really enjoying this arc. I am curious as to see where this is going both in the short, mid and long term.
