by N. C. Reed
“Raise the red pennant, lieutenant. This engagement is decided.”
-
General Springfield watched in silent thanks as the southern cavalry began to pull back, away from what was left of his army. He could hear bugles blowing from across the field and realized that they were calling it a day. The sudden quiet as the southern artillery had ceased fire left him wondering what was wrong.
“Runners to all corps commands,” Springfield addressed the men behind him. “Return to line of embarkation, bringing any wounded that can be retrieved. Men to sleep in line of battle behind our formations. Once that is accomplished all corps commanders or senior surviving division commanders are to report to headquarters.” He paused as he watched the army struggling to return.
“We have to save what we can.”
-
“Damn it!” Parno muttered under his breath as he watched the Imperial Army returning to their lines, out of his sight. “I was so close. I really thought we had them.”
“We've still accomplished a good deal here, sir,” Enri Willard offered. “The exchange was brutal but completely in our favor.”
“But it may not have been decisive,” Parno replied. “It may not have been enough to get rid of them.”
“You can order your cavalry to pursue,” Feng noted, his tone not endorsing or dismissing, merely taking note. Parno was shaking his head.
“No. They're exhausted and their horses are too. And they've taken losses. We may have come out better, but we got hurt, no doubt. No, get them back,” he turned to Davies and Enri Willard. “Get them back behind our lines, fed and cared for. And I don't want a single Soulan trooper left on the field. Dead or wounded, I want them all back.” He turned back to the field.
“And kill any Nor wounded still out there.”
-
It was quiet in the carriage. They had stopped for lunch and a call of nature but then returned to the road in less than twenty minutes, allowing the horses a break as they walked for an hour rather than taking a faster pace.
Harrel had awakened, ate a bit and drank some water. With the assistance of two larger troopers had made a nature call and then returned to his quilts where he passed out from exhaustion. Now they were back at speed, moving briskly along once more.
Stephanie was looking out the window, thinking back on the two weeks and odd days she had just spent at the front, much of it with Parno. A faint smile came to her lips as she thought of how things had turned out.
“That's a very nice little smirk, dear,” Edema broke the silence, looking across at her. Stephanie laughed softly, trying not to wake Harrel.
“I suppose it is,” she admitted.
“I believe the words 'thank you' are in order,” Edema arched an eyebrow, humor sparkling in her eyes despite the situation. Stephanie nodded, acknowledging her debt to the older woman.
“More than a mere thank you, Edema,” she smiled again, wider this time. “More than anything.”
“Did the two of you make any long-term plans?” Edema asked.
“We didn't actually do much planning of any kind,” Stephanie admitted, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. Edema giggled slightly.
“No, I suppose not,” she teased. “Well, at least things between you two are good again, yes?”
“Oh yes,” Stephanie replied slowly. “Very good.”
“Splendid!” Edema beamed, but her smile faded quickly. “I'm sure it will be alright, dear,” she added in a softer tone.
“I imagine so,” Stephanie nodded. “He had been expecting their move for several days and had been planning for it. I don't know what he knew or specifically what he had done, just that he thought he had managed to outmaneuver his enemy.” She sighed as her hands fidgeted in her lap.
“It will be days before we learn anything of what happened,” she said, looking once more out the window carriage.
“Yes,” Edema nodded. “And longer for me,” she added. “We will stay a night or two at the palace but it's far past time for me to be at home.”
“Yes, I suppose it is,” Stephanie agreed. “I’ll miss having you around.”
“I doubt that,” Edema snorted. “Wasn't that long ago you didn't want to be near me.”
“Well, anyone can be wrong,” Stephanie shrugged, serious, but then her mischievous side took over. “Without your deceit and treachery and underhandedness and-,”
“Just a simple 'thank you' will suffice,” Edema sighed, shaking her head in mock sadness as she returned to her novel. “After all I have done for you, too...”
Stephanie's laugh could be heard well outside the carriage as it continued to roll southward.
-
“How are we doing?” Winnie asked as she surveyed the work around the square in Carroll.
“Fine,” the engineer nodded. “They have a handy few people and young Mister Garrett's men are a welcome help. Good strong lads. The palisade will be nearly finished by nightfall I should think. The townspeople can finish the front berm themselves without difficulty.”
“Good news,” she smiled. “Remember the platforms for the archers,” she added.
“I was doing this work long before you graced the world with your presence, milady,” the old engineer chuckled. “We shall not forget.”
“Thanks,” she smiled again and impulsively leaned in to kiss the old man's grizzled cheek.
“Wha-, stop that!” the old man spluttered in surprise. “What would my wife think!” he added with a twinkle in his eye.
“She'd just think you were the same old charmer that first caught her eye,” Winnie laughed. “If you need anything just send someone after me. We’ll be on the range most of the rest of the day,” she returned to business.
“Will do, milady.”
-
Everyone has reported back, milord,” Davies reported.
“Pull Freeman and Herrick off the line and let Graham's men stand to for now,” Parno ordered. “They aren't gonna hit us again for a while, if at all. Graham's men are in good shape. Let Freeman and Herrick rest and refit.”
“Very good, milord,” Davies nodded, scribbling hasty orders and handing them to runners.
“I want estimates on our losses as soon as possible, but don't interfere with anything else,” Parno added. “I'd also like a ballpark estimate of Nor losses if we can guess at it.”
“Yes sir,” Enri Willard nodded.
“And make sure our screen and scouting elements are on the ball,” he added finally. “I don't want that bunch to the west to come storming back and catch us off guard. Plus, I want to know the instant they decide whether they're returning or headed south.”
“We’ll see to it sir.”
-
General Darrell Thomas placed his surviving men in the center of the Imperial fortifications, knowing that despite their fatigue they would be the best remaining force in the army to anchor the line in the event of an attack. Passing the burned-out skeletons of destroyed artillery pieces reminded him not to expect much to be left of their camp. He was moving to the eastern part of the area covered by his men when he ran into General Vanhoose.
“You're taking center?” Vanhoose asked without preamble.
“I thought it best,” Thomas nodded. “My men are tired and I took losses but compared to Abe and Calisto, we're in better shape.”
“I’ll take from your left to the river then,” Vanhoose nodded. “We’ll have to stretch out of our old emplacements but we're like you; we got hurt, but nothing like those two. I heard that Eric-,”
“Probably gone,” Thomas nodded. “And no one has seen Jurgen since early on, either. I'm hoping we can scrape together enough from them and Abe's men to handle the right side of the line. I know they got hammered pretty bad.”
“I'd say that's an understatement,” Vanhoose nodded. “And this camp looks like the landscape of hell,” he added, looking around at the smoke from hundreds of small and large fires.
“Yeah, it's pretty bad,”
Thomas sighed. “From what I hear we’ll be eating light for a while.”
“You're assuming that the Soulanies don't come screaming across that field in the morning to finish the job,” Vanhoose declared flatly.
“I think they’ll wait and see if we leave on our own,” Thomas speculated. “They know how bad they hurt us.”
“True.”
-
Preliminary reports from corps commanders, sir,” Enri dropped several papers on Parno's desk. “Also, an estimate from General Wilbanks on the damage he was able to inflict on the Nor camps.”
“I'm most interested to know that, too,” Parno dug through until he found it.
“He did a number on them for sure,” Enri nodded. “We may not have killed them all today, but I'd say they’ll damn sure be hungry by this time tomorrow if not sooner. And their wounded won't be recovering any time soon, either.”
“Men sleeping in the open, possessions destroyed, support personnel killed,” Parno was nodding as he scanned the report. “Outstanding!”
“Yes sir.”
“Losses?” Parno set the paper down and looked up at his Chief of Staff.
“Just estimates so far, milord,” Enri replied.
“What are they?”
“4th Corps lost over five thousand killed and some eleven thousand wounded. Some are slight, some may not live to see the sunrise. 5th Corps lost similar numbers with just under six thousand killed and slightly over nine thousand wounded. 1st Corps reports an estimate of nine hundred dead and one thousand seven hundred wounded.”
“General Allen reports total losses of four thousand two hundred killed and four thousand nine hundred wounded. He also reports they lost roughly two thousand horses dead and another thousand or so injured. Some maimed and others only slightly so.” Willard paused.
“Sir, considering the nature of this engagement, those numbers aren't bad at all,” he pointed out finally. “Any loss is bad in my book, but... there's no way to avoid losses in war. My father once called casualties the currency of combat. General Davies says that all a good soldier can ask is that his commander spend him well. I'd say we spent well today, all things considered.”
“We did what we had to,” Parno nodded. “Very well. If we're short of anything let me know at once. I don't think we’ll see any action from the Imperials tomorrow or for a while after that either. We still have to be wary of that bunch to the west, but until we see how they jump, we’ll use this time to get refit.”
“We're already working on it, milord,” Enri promised. “All smiths are in the cavalry camp even tonight, hammering out shoes. Wranglers and horse doctors have been working for hours already. And all of our wounded save maybe the last few from the cavalry engagement are in hospital already. Our training and organization are paying off in spades tonight, sir.”
“Good,” Parno nodded. “Good.”
Enri paused again, seemingly searching for the words to say what was on his mind. Parno waited, having guessed at what was coming.
“I'm sorry about earlier today, milord,” Enri finally said. “My job-,”
“You job is to caution me,” Parno held up a hand, cutting the apology off. “You did. You and General Davies did exactly the right thing. As I told you on the tower, even if you had left there were no hard feelings and would have been no repercussions. I can't very well condemn someone for doing their job properly, now can I?” he smiled slightly and Willard let out a small laugh.
“Be bad for morale, I imagine,” he admitted.
“Then let’s say no more about this,” Parno ordered. “You did nothing wrong. Neither of you. I saw an opportunity and I took it. It was risky, but I had planned for those risks as best I could. As you said, all we can do is spend well. I tried to make sure we did that today.”
“I think you accomplished that just fine, milord.”
“We’ll see.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
-
“Report, gentlemen,” Abe Springfield ordered softly. They were sitting in the open, the small building Wilson had used as a headquarters now a smoking ruin.
“2nd Corps can muster around thirty-one thousand two hundred and twelve men fit for battle,” Joel Vanhoose started. “More or less fit, anyway,” he added with a sigh. “We lost at least nineteen thousand men, killed and wounded, and the count is still going. I should have a hard number later tonight or by first mess in the morning.”
“3rd Corps has thirty-nine thousand, seven hundred and ninety-one men on line at present,” Thomas was next. “Our loss estimates are also still being tabulated, but the estimates so far is three thousand eight hundred dead and seven thousand three hundred wounded.”
“4th Corps has about eighteen thousand men fit for duty,” General William Kelby reported softly. His head was sporting a bloody bandage as was his left hand. “We have over thirty thousand men either dead, wounded or missing. No way of separating them at the moment. I have staff officers looking through the hospital areas for our wounded. We brought out every man we could reach. General Jurgen is missing as is all of his staff, believed to have been caught in the cavalry envelopment during the Soulanie counter-attack. And when I say fit for duty, know that I mean able to stand to,” he added finally. “I doubt they would actually hold in a determined attack. 4th Corps was shattered.”
Springfield nodded silently.
“5th Corps,” General Braidy Figg went next, “has twenty-two thousand and seven hundred men on the line at present. I won't say fit for duty because they're broken, most of them. Our losses will top twenty-five thousand dead, wounded or missing, but no way to break it down or give you a final number tonight. It's bad, though. Crippling,” he told his former corps commander. Springfield nodded again, knowing it was going to be bad. They all turned to the last man at the fire, and also the most junior.
“6th Corps... has pretty much ceased to exist,” Brigadier Stanley Moxie reported softly. “I'm the senior surviving officer that we can find at the moment. We have a little over six thousand survivors so far.”
Survivors. The word hung in the air around the small fire. That was exactly what they were, too; survivors. The men of 6th Corps had survived the worst defeat in recent Imperial history.
“We have taken many wounded to the hospital tents,” Moxie continued. “I don't know that all of them were ours, we were grabbing men from the ground from anywhere and tossing them over shoulders. The southerners were carrying a black flag,” he looked at the general officers around the fire. “The men saw it, too. Hard to miss when you have thousands of men who scream like demons from hell riding you down. No one we left on the field will be alive in the morning.” He stopped and shook his head slowly.
“I’ll try and have a definite report for you tomorrow sir, but... don't expect it to improve much. There's no command staff remaining at all, and our support personnel were caught in the cavalry attack on the camp. There's... nothing left. Just a few of us who managed to get away.”
“I understand, Brigadier,” Springfield nodded. “Do what you can and we’ll talk about what to do with your men in a couple days. Right now, the important thing is to take care of the men who survived.”
“As you say sir,” Moxie nodded slowly.
“Well gentlemen, things are bad,” Springfield said to the group. “No sense trying to put a good face on it either. We're fucked. We've lost damn near half the army in this debacle and the half we got back we can't feed. Most of our equipment is gone, our artillery is destroyed, hell we don't even have tents for our men since we took what little was left to provide for the wounded.”
“Wagons and ambulances burned, horses taken, support staff and personnel killed where they stood,” he went on. “Seventy percent of our medical staff killed along with any wounded they were treating in hospital. And Wilson had to be relieved of command,” he finished with a sigh. “I don't know how well known it is yet, but Wilson apparently had some kind of nervous breakdown when the Soulanie cavalry h
it. He was more or less babbling by the time they sent for me. Threatened to hang his Chief, then to hang all of our men for 'retreating'. I tried to reason with him and found his mental faculties to be impaired and relieved him of command.” He paused for a minute.
“I expect I’ll be executed for it, but... better for me to be killed than to just continue throwing our men's lives away. I did what I thought was right and that's all anyone can do. Now,” he looked around the fire.
“Here's another cold, hard truth. We can't stay here. We don't have enough supplies left to feed this army tomorrow, let alone for the time it would take for sufficient supplies to reach us from the north. We are screwed and there's no two ways about that. The nearest place for resupply is Louisville, and there won't be much there, either. We weren't scheduled to receive another supply run for a month yet, so I doubt there's even a train ready or supplies gathered to bring to us yet, and it would take nearly two weeks for a slow and ponderous train to get here. A train that would attract Soulanie Cavalry like melons attract a hornet. They'd swarm it just like hornets in fact and we wouldn't get a damn thing out of it.”
“We've got a few horses, but most of them are in terrible shape. Some were put down already from what I understand. We're in a jam that I can't see a way out of that doesn't include abandoning our wounded to die and leaving General Venable's corps on their own in enemy territory. Wilson sent a runner to tell him to return here, but who knows if he made it through? I'm sending another tomorrow morning, but assuming Venable has already arrived in Unity it will take a day at least for the message to reach him and a minimum of three days for his units to return.”
“He carried supplies for about five weeks in unsupported operations, and he has all of our remaining cavalry with him. With those supplies we can feed the army as we move north, using his baggage train to move our wounded. We can spend that three or four days on half rations and see if we can rebuild a few of our wagons, even if they're just buckboard style, to transport wounded north on. We'd have to depend on horses that are weak and not trained too well for traces, but it would be better than nothing which is what we have now.”