“Yes, sir,” Sabinus said.
“Right,” Stiger said, turning away and moving toward the exit. “Ruga, let’s not keep the enemy waiting, shall we?”
“Wouldn’t want to do that, sir,” Ruga said as he followed Stiger out of the tent.
EIGHT
The trees around them were still, almost deathly so. Stiger thought it was as if the forest were holding its breath. Everything seemed to have been frozen into immobility by winter. After the previous day’s storm, there wasn’t even a breeze to stir the air or the snow-covered branches. A deep layer of fresh snow covered everything. It was also bitterly cold.
Stiger crunched his way through the snow. His own breathing had become labored from the effort of forcing his way forward, one step at a time. The snow was deep enough that it almost went up to the knees.
Despite the cold, he was perspiring. He felt hot and wanted to remove his cloak. But he knew better. The warmth, though welcome, was deceptive. From the snow, he was wet from the waist down. His boots had been soaked through too. If he wasn’t careful, he would catch a cold, and that was when the real danger set in. So, he kept his cloak securely fastened for warmth.
Taha’Leeth was to his left and Eli to the right. There was about five feet of spacing between each of them and Stiger. Such was their skill that the elves hardly made any noise as they moved through the deep snow.
Silent or not, Eli and Taha’Leeth were having just as much difficulty as he was. Ruga trailed a few steps behind, and a glance backward told Stiger the centurion was walking in Stiger’s footsteps.
Ruga was clearly no fool. He was using Stiger to blaze a trail for himself through the snow. In truth, Stiger did not mind too much. He viewed the effort as just more exercise, something, as legate, he was being denied more and more with each passing day. Too much of his time was being consumed by meetings, administrative work, or events that needed attending. Little time was left for exercise. Besides, the effort was warming him against the cold.
Stiger sucked air in through his nose and blew it out through his mouth in a steaming stream. He glanced around, studying his surroundings, as something occurred to him. He hadn’t seen any tracks in the snow, which was odd, because he knew there was plenty of game in the forest. He was about to mention it to Eli, when he heard something.
Stiger stopped, becoming still. Eli and Taha’Leeth also came to a halt, looking over at him curiously, wondering what was wrong.
“I thought I heard something,” Stiger whispered and then fell silent, ears straining, eyes searching the forest for movement.
Nothing.
Had he imagined it?
No. There it was again…a distant tapping.
“Hammering, from the enemy camp.” Eli pointed toward a small rise to their front that led up the slope of the hill they were climbing. “We are very close. Come, let us show you the enemy.”
They started forward again, continuing to climb the gentle slope of the hill. Stiger once again glanced back at Ruga. The centurion’s face was grim, hard, and red from the cold air and exertion. Stiger had left Ruga’s two men twenty yards back. He had not wanted to bring too many forward. The risk of giving their presence away was just too great. As it was, four was almost too many.
Stiger’s gaze strayed over to Taha’Leeth. She had pulled the hood of her cloak up halfway, concealing much of her braided hair. A few strands had come loose and fallen across her face. She looked proud, bold, and incredibly beautiful to his eyes.
Both elves were armed with bows and carried small packs strapped to their backs. Taha’Leeth held her bow loosely in one hand, along with an arrow. She moved with a lithe confidence that spoke of skill and ability. Stiger found himself enjoying the view, for even with her cloak about her, he found her figure very fetching.
She glanced over at him and caught him staring. He found he could not look away, for it was as if she had captured his gaze with some strange magic. Taha’Leeth smiled demurely before returning her full attention back to the trees around them and breaking the spell.
Though they had only been apart a few hours, it felt good to have her back by his side, to see her safe and sound.
Eli abruptly put a hand to Stiger’s chest, forcefully arresting his movement. Startled, Stiger looked over at his friend in question. In answer, Eli pointed meaningfully to the ground. Stiger glanced down and saw a small branch, which, under the weight of the snow, had broken and fallen. He had been about to step on it.
“Best to pay attention to where one puts one’s feet”—Eli leaned in close and then gestured at Taha’Leeth—“and not get distracted by a pair of pretty eyes and a shapely backside. With the enemy just over that hill, I don’t think we want to give ourselves away.”
Eli’s lip twitched with wry amusement, clearly savoring one of Stiger’s rare lapses in attention. For his part, Stiger gave a nod. Despite his friend’s apparent amusement and lighthearted tone, the rebuke had been well-earned.
Taha’Leeth paused, turned, and fixed Eli with an unhappy look that lasted several heartbeats before continuing. Clearly, she’d heard his words.
“It seems I am not the only one receiving a rebuke,” Stiger said with an amused glance over at his friend.
“Indeed.” Eli shook his head slightly and started after Taha’Leeth.
Stiger half turned back to Ruga and pointed at the branch so the centurion saw it. Ruga gave a nod of understanding.
Stiger made certain to pay better attention to where he placed his feet. As they neared the top of the hill, the trees began to thin considerably. This saw the beginnings of undergrowth that thickened the farther they went up the slope. Their pace slowed as they were forced to work their way around low-lying brush, bushes, and saplings.
Ahead, above the crest of the hill, Castle Vrell and the surrounding mountains loomed, almost seeming to hang over them. It made him feel tiny and insignificant, for they were very impressive.
Stiger could not yet see the enemy encampment, but he could certainly smell it. The stench of waste and smoke, at first faint, became more powerful and pervasive with every step forward.
Coming to the top of the hill, he followed Taha’Leeth around a large bush. On the other side, she squatted down in the snow and motioned for him to do the same. He went to a knee next to her, trying to ignore the cold bite of the snow against his skin.
Downslope and through a thin screen of bushes was the enemy’s camp. The nearest campfire, with men clustered about it, was a mere fifty yards distant. He glanced over at Eli as he joined them, having gone around the other side of the bush. Eli also took a knee. Eli flashed a series of signs at him.
Stiger gave a nod of understanding. He turned back to Ruga. The centurion had stopped, just behind Stiger. He’d crouched down in the snow.
“This is as far as we go,” Stiger whispered to Ruga, for he doubted the man knew the elven finger speak.
“I figured as much, sir,” Ruga hissed back, his eyes on the enemy camp.
Stiger returned his attention to the enemy. Most of the trees on the downward slope had been chopped down, likely for firewood or building material. Their stumps were now no more than hundreds of mismatched lumps in the snow.
It took him a moment to make sense of what he was seeing of the enemy’s encampment. There were tents by the thousands, huts, dugouts, animal pens, and more. Smoke from countless fires drifted up into the air, forming an ugly grayish-blue pall above.
The camp seemed very disordered to his professional eye, with no apparent effort at even attempting to organize—or perhaps the correct word was manage—the chaos. To the right, about one hundred yards away, part of the camp extended out into the forest and was lost from view. It looked to be more communal tents.
Much of the snow within the camp had been left where it had fallen. There were tracks and trails seemingly everywhere. They reminded Stiger of the paths the deer had made in the North, during the dead of winter, when the snow had piled up.
&nb
sp; A legion would simply remove the snow, rather than permit it to remain. Snow removal was deemed a necessity for health reasons, as the men could only take being wet so long. Otherwise, sickness would set in, and if it did, that could prove disastrous. It also served as a way to maintain discipline and prevent the men from becoming overly idle during the long winter months.
Farther up the pass, the enemy’s main wall that hemmed the castle in, with the barricade atop, appeared more impressive than it had from above. Stiger thought this especially true after studying the artillery that had been positioned on and behind the wall. The enemy’s stone throwers were extremely large and impressive machines. He had no doubt that they would be capable, given time, of damaging the castle’s walls.
Stiger noted the enemy’s defenses were simply nonexistent when it came to the forest side of the camp. There seemed to have been the beginnings of an effort at digging a trench, but that looked to have been abandoned.
Despite having received the report from Sabinus, he’d still had some difficulty believing the enemy could be so confident they would neglect their own protection. But here it was before him, stark as could be. He had not dispatched scouts prior to the legion marching for fear that, with the fresh snow, their presence might be discovered, putting the enemy on guard.
“I’d say they have around twenty-five thousand men,” Eli said quietly.
“It’s about what we thought,” Stiger said and then gestured toward the enemy with a hand.
“That’s still a big camp, sir,” Ruga said, “and twenty-five thousand is still a lot of men.”
“It is,” Stiger agreed, eyes studying the enemy critically.
“They have no defenses facing the forest, sir,” Ruga said. “It’s bold, sir, and arrogant too, like they expect no trouble.”
Again, Stiger agreed with the centurion, but said nothing as he continued to study what was before him. He noted a handful of sentries along the edge of the camp. These had been posted near the forest, but none were within sixty yards of their position. It was likely why both elves had chosen this spot for observation.
“They certainly aren’t expecting us,” Eli said to Ruga.
Everything Stiger was seeing spoke of a complete lack of preparedness. None of the sentries were walking the perimeter of the camp. There was no one training. In fact, few were doing much of anything at all. It seemed as if the enemy, for the most part, was simply wasting away the day.
A handful of men were employed in construction work, but the vast majority were clustered around communal fires before tents or log shelters. There was movement inside the camp, but it appeared limited, almost as if nearly everyone desired the warmth of the fires and nothing else. There seemed to be no direction from any officer, no effort to improve the camp.
Most of the enemy appeared to be stood down. They wore no armor at all, instead wearing only what seemed to be mismatched civilian clothing instead of service tunics. Only the sentries were armed and armored.
“They certainly do not seem too active, sir,” Ruga said.
“No, they don’t,” Stiger said, wondering what it all meant. He looked over at Eli. “You’ve seen no patrols?”
Eli shook his head.
“It is just as we’ve told you. There have been no patrols,” Taha’Leeth said, “not since the last snowfall, at any rate. We’ve found no tracks, other than individuals who wandered a few yards out into the trees for whatever reason and the occasional hunter or trapper.”
“How’s the forest around here for game?” Stiger asked, looking between the two elves.
“Overhunted, at least for a few miles out,” Eli said.
“Much of the large game is gone, deer, boar, bear, moose,” Taha’Leeth added, “likely due to foraging parties when the army first got here. Only small animals are left. We did come across quite a few snares.”
Stiger understood that. Hunting and trapping helped to supplement army rations, which tended to be bland at best. Over the years, he’d known quite a few legionaries who were very skilled at trapping, fishing, hunting, and thieving from other companies. The last bit had proven helpful on occasion.
“Some of the snares,” Eli added, unhappily, “had not been checked in on for days on end. Those animals we could free, we did.”
“They should have put patrols out,” Stiger said as he rested a hand on his helmet. “I don’t understand it. Are we missing something?”
“We’re not.” Eli cocked his head slightly to the side. “The enemy might believe they have nothing to fear. That could be why they have made no serious effort at fortifying their camp and bothering with patrols.”
Stiger was not satisfied with that explanation.
“By my calculation,” Stiger said, “they’ve had no communication with the outside world for at least three weeks, maybe a little more. They must know there is a problem with the road. So, why not come out and deal with it? It’s not like they don’t have the strength to do so. It is right there before us. Why sit in their camp and do nothing?”
Eli did not reply for several heartbeats and then gave a shrug. “They might think the lack of communication is weather-related.”
“Perhaps,” Ruga said, “they have enough supplies to last a few weeks.”
“In that they don’t feel the need to rush clearing the road?” Stiger looked over at Ruga. “That might be it, but it does not explain the lack of patrols out into the forest. Braddock’s pioneers are operating well down the road, intentionally avoiding the enemy in and around this encampment.” He shook his head. “They should have put patrols out. It’s basic security and common sense. What is there to fear?”
“They could just be lazy, sir,” Ruga suggested. “Lazy, ill-disciplined, and poorly led.”
“Lazy?” Stiger asked, looking back on the centurion.
“Well, sir,” Ruga said, “it’s pretty damn cold out and they’re building shelters with only a handful at it. We can all hear the hammering. Most of the bastards seem content to suffer through uncomfortable nights in cold tents, for I see a lot of men just sitting about down there, doing a big bunch of nothing.” Ruga gestured about them. “And there is a whole forest full of building material readily at hand. Don’t you think they should have teams out in the forest, bringing trees down, so they can build more shelters? Where are the teams gathering firewood? Seems fairly lazy to me, sir.”
“He could be right,” Eli said. “Remember General Kromen and what he did to the Southern legions?”
Stiger felt himself tense. The elf pointed a finger at him and wagged it.
“I don’t care what you say about speaking against leadership,” Eli said, “but that was incompetence of, how you say…command? Yes, I think that is the word. It was criminal what Kromen did. There is no denying it. So stop trying.”
Stiger felt himself frown at the memory. Eli was right. Kromen had damaged those four legions likely beyond repair with his incompetence. What they’d both seen in the legionary encampment had horrified him, the rot, low morale, and disease. The thought of it still angered him. Was the same thing happening here? Or was it something else?
He turned his gaze back to the enemy. Ruga had a point and so too did Eli. It was just after midday. Why weren’t the enemy more active? It just did not make sense to him. There had to be more to it.
“Those two large buildings, next to the animal pens.” Taha’Leeth pointed at a couple of rough-looking log structures with arched roofs in the center of the camp. There was an extensive series of corrals besides the two buildings, where several hundred horses and mules were being kept. “There is a strong guard around those buildings. See them?”
“I do,” Stiger said.
“I think that is where their supply is located,” Taha’Leeth said. “If you look just to the left, there are a number of squat mounds covered in snow. Those, I am thinking, would likely be crates of supplies they were unable to fit inside.”
Stiger rubbed his jaw as he studied the buildings. A
third structure was in a partial state of construction, but no one seemed to be working on it. He suspected she was right.
The legion could use those supplies, mules, and horses. There were also hundreds of wagons and carts parked one next to another off to the side of the corrals. Stiger wanted those as well. Between the legion, dwarves and gnomes, the army was quite large. As he saw it, the more transport they had to move supply the better.
Still, it just did not make sense to him that the enemy would not send out patrols, nor seek to clear the road and open communications, especially given the strength they had on hand. This army had become just as isolated and cut off from the rest of the world as he was.
More telling was the complete lack of order and sanitation within the enemy’s camp. With no defenses facing the forest, it smacked of a troubling lack of discipline and incompetence of command, just as Eli had said. Could the enemy general really be this incompetent?
“This army is mostly composed of Southern rebels,” Taha’Leeth said. “As you can see, there is very little order below. The general in command was likely a civilian not too long ago, with no military experience. However, if you look off to the left, there are a number of tents lined up in neat rows.” She pointed and Stiger followed her finger. “That tells me the vast majority of the Cyphan must have pulled out and left. Were there more regulars present, things would be very different.”
“In that there would be defenses facing the forest?” Stiger asked.
She gave a nod. “Just as the legions do, the Cyphan fortify their marching encampments, and they would have placed a professional in command, but this is a rebel army, so the rebels elected their officers. It was likely a popularity contest rather than one based upon skill.”
Stiger once again swept his gaze over the camp, critically looking, searching. He hoped she was right. After several moments, he returned to the small section of the camp where the tents were arranged in orderly rows.
The Tiger’s Wrath (Chronicles of An Imperial Legionary Officer Book 5) Page 15