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566. A Matter of Courage
🕑 Added 2024-02-06 08:00:03 +0000 UTCMartel did not have the numbers, but he suspected that the Asterians had lost as many soldiers as the Khivans by pursuing them into the forest. Once pursuit was no longer feasible, they began a slow march back towards the outpost, through woods littered by bodies. While Martel had fought dozens of skirmishes in the woodland hills surrounding the outpost, they had always been brief, involving only a handful of enemies and Asterians alike. Walking mile after mile back towards camp, seeing corpses stretched out throughout the entire journey, left him shaken.
He took his sole consolation from knowing it was over, and that neither he nor Eleanor had been wounded. The Khivans had been driven back, and besides all the legionaries present, another cohort marched towards them to provide further reinforcements. They could sleep soundly tonight, which the battlemage and his protector did.
***
"Prefects, the fifth cohort has arrived, and the decurion summons you, outside the gate."
Martel looked out of his tent, seeing the boots of the legionary. It was clear daylight; he had slept through the night and taken most of the morning with it. "Understood," he mumbled, rubbing his eyes. Only after the legionary had gone did he take notice of the word choice in the message.
He and Eleanor got on their feet and trudged through the camp. The aftermath of battle could be seen and felt. Many of the tents were occupied by wounded soldiers. The dead by the gate, which still lay shattered on the ground, had been unceremoniously piled together, and legionaries had begun to strip them of anything worth preserving. Martel did not wish to imagine how it looked in the other end of the small camp, given how hard the fighting had been around the breach in the walls.
"Prefects!" Valerius caught up to them. "What a day yesterday!"
"The Stars favoured us," Eleanor remarked. Martel found any sense of exuberance out of place, and he chose to remain quiet as they crossed the causeway leading out of the outpost.
The clearing was packed as far as Martel could see. The arrival of two cohorts, one of them with horses, took up all available space. He hoped that with the Khivans dispatched, he could be allowed to return to Esmouth; there might still be patients in need of his alchemy.
The three mages made their way through the crowd of men and horses to reach the other wizards present, Avery and Dominic. The former bowed her head in recognition. "A battle well-fought, I am told. You did well holding this outpost against a superior enemy, Sir Valerius."
The mageknight beamed. "Thank you. I should mention the timely arrival of our decurion, and of course, both Sir Fontaine and Sir Martel proved invaluable during the assault."
"Curious." Dominic looked at Martel with an overbearing smile. "I was told that as the battle raged, our good battlemage stayed out of the fray, even as the mageknights fought in the breach."
"He was maintaining the spell that kept the Khivans out," Eleanor pointed out with an icy voice. "And the night before, he risked his life to destroy two of the cannons bombarding our walls."
"Certainly, my report will mention how invaluable both Sir Martel and Sir Fontaine proved to be for our defences," Valerius added.
"Regardless," Avery interjected, "you and your cohort are relieved, Sir Valerius. Fifth cohort will defend the outpost for the next month." She looked at Martel and Eleanor. "As for you, the legate's orders are to resume your daily patrol of the area. Clearly, the Khivans remain a greater threat in this region then we assumed."
Martel kept his expression blank, as he knew any sign of frustration would only delight the decurion, who placed his helmet on his head with a smirk. "My men and I will make our departure. Always a pleasure to come to the aid of the infantry." He left the small gathering and mounted his horse while barking orders; soon after, the eleventh cohort of the Tenth Legion left.
***
The battlemage and his protector spent the remaining day providing aid to the legionaries or tending to their own affairs. Martel ignited the pyres of dead Khivans and raised the wind to pushed the smoke and stench away from the outpost. Eleanor exchanged her damaged armour for a new chain shirt and repaired the various cuts and tears of her uniform. Around them, the legionaries continued the task of removing the signs of battle, salvaging what they could, and making simple repairs. As for the gate or broken wall, such would have to wait for materials and skilled hands from Esmouth.
At the end of the day, as they went to sleep in their shared tent as usual, Martel happily closed his eyes. But before he could drift off, the sound of Eleanor's voice arrested him. "Yesterday, when the wall was brought down… How long did it take before I reacted? When you grabbed me and shook me."
Not a question Martel had expected; he had already forgotten about that brief moment amidst everything else that had happened. "Not long at all. More or less immediately."
"I see."
With the cloak dividing the space, Martel could not see her, but her tone of voice and the strange question made him a little concerned. "Is something wrong?"
"I am just embarrassed. I should not have required you to snap me out of it. If we had been surrounded by enemies, such hesitation could have cost either of us dearly."
"You're being very hard on yourself," Martel told her. He knew that Eleanor had a tendency to strive for perfection, but this felt out of proportion. "A wall burst apart around our ears. We were all shocked."
"It was more than that for me."
"How so?" he asked when she did not continue.
"It brought me back to a memory. Something I have not thought about for years."
"Which memory?"
He heard her take a deep breath. "The night that Esmouth fell. When the war began. I was six. Foolishly, I had left home even though my father had told me in strict terms to stay indoors. I did not know about war or the Khivans, not really. For some reason I forget, I found myself in the eastern part of town. Soldiers were running in every direction, yelling words I did not understand. It was frightening, but I was also strangely fascinated by all the activity around me, not realising what it meant."
"You were under attack?"
"Yes. The cannons began to roar. The sound was so loud, it made me cry. Next, the gate exploded, and rubble flew everywhere. Dust and smoke filled my eyes, and my ears rang from all the noise."
"How did you get away?"
"A legionary recognised me and grabbed me. He brought me back to my home." She paused and took another deep breath. "I dreamt about this for many nights after, though it has been years since the last time. And yet, yesterday, I was brought back to that moment, like I was still a small child."
Martel wished he could see her, reach out and touch her, comfort her. "I'm sorry. It sounds awful."
"It was."
"If it means anything, I think you're the most courageous person I've ever met."
"Thank you. We should sleep." And so they did.
~
Martel's character sheet (no change).
