Fifteen Miles North of Burnym, Moreland Province
Balwis Preddi awoke well before dawn when one of his men shook his shoulder.
“Balwis. Balwis, it’s time. The men are ready.”
He stared up at the starry sky through a surrounding screen of trees, then sat erect, clearing his head as he looked around. He could barely see the others under the starlight, but all around him seethed a battalion of 400 men, trying to be silent while packing. They faintly heard their horses, picketed up in the arroyo. Nearby stood four more encampments such as this one: 2,000 men and horses; twenty 6-pounder cannon and limbers; 600 pack horses with food, medicine, and ammunition; 40 wagons sturdy enough to cross rough country; and 500 extra horses.
The previous day, a rider had reached them before sundown. It was time for action. The War Council had released all four of Swavebroke’s regiments to fall on the Narthani supply line.
To his surprise and consternation, Balwis now commanded a powerful, fast-moving force. A horse had thrown the regiment’s commander, resulting in arm and leg fractures. With no time to send back for instructions or a replacement, command fell to Balwis. Before leaving to attend the War Council in Orosz City, Harmon Swavebroke denoted one battalion commander in each regiment as the most senior, in case the regiment’s colonel was lost for any reason. As his regiment’s designated senior major, Balwis automatically breveted to regiment commander. As Balwis usually did when he first woke up, he felt momentary wonder at how and why he had responsibility for an entire regiment of dragoons sent on a critical mission deep into Narthani territory. The simple answer was always that they had no better option.
His regiment’s assignment, confirmed by written orders, was the most dangerous: move due west to attack supply trains as far south of Morthmin in Eywell Province as possible. He would gather the small units serving as a warning screen and hassling force up to now. His regiment would also be the first to encounter any large force coming out of Preddi and attempting to reinforce and resupply the Narthani army. Such a force would be too large for him to stop, but he and his regiment would do what they could to impede movement along major roads toward Hanslow. They would then fall back to join up with the other three regiments, and, together, they would make every effort to stop any Narthani relief force.
They had pushed their horses for two days until reaching sight of Morthmin in central Eywell Province. Only in the last hour had they encountered Narthani, a patrol of ten cavalrymen who fled north after seeing the regiment’s lead battalion.
“It’ll be dark in another two hours, but word of our arrival is bound to spread,” Balwis told the five battalion majors. “We don’t want to lose any supply trains that get word and seek safety in Morthmin, return to Preddi, or are moving toward Hanslow. We knew we’d be dividing ourselves. Where we are now will be our rally point.
“Major Fithwyndal, you’ll stay here with the wagons. Set up a defensible position and dig in. Orton and Nartyl, move north of Morthmin as far as you can tonight, then tomorrow at first light, try to catch up with wagons heading toward Hanslow. Orton, you’ll be senior. Clear the road of any Narthani for twenty miles, then head back to rally here.
“I’ll accompany Gestwin and Varnin south toward Neath. In both directions, we need to move fast before word spreads. We’ll clear the roads south-southwest as far as possible, then re-form here. Just remember not to get into fights you can’t win, and don’t hesitate to fall back. If it comes to a real fight, we don’t want to be separated and defeated ‘in detail,’ as Yozef warns.”
Between Orosz City and Adris City
Gullar slapped the message just delivered by a disheveled rider. “Well, we knew this could happen. We were a little surprised they didn’t do something more serious earlier. The colonel at Hanslow says the city is cut off. Nothing is coming in or out, and they’ve seen what has to be hundreds of clansmen riders at numerous locations, meaning the total number working to sever our supply line must be in the thousands.”
“We’re fortunate to get this news at all,” said Avan. “The messenger says there were four of them sent with the same dispatches. He may well be the only one to evade the islanders.”
“Should we cut rations?” asked Balkto.
“No,” answered Gullar. “We have more than a sixday and a half at full rations, and we’re only two to three days from Adris City. Admiral Dimir will be waiting there with resupply. We want to keep the men in top shape and not give any impression of problems, which cutting rations would surely indicate.”
“As much as I hate to admit it,” said Avan, “the islanders have surprised us again with how thoroughly they’ve stripped the countryside of anything to forage. We’ve hardly come across any cattle, horses, or this local animal called the krykor. Any crops left in the fields that weren’t burned would have taken more time to gather than they were worth. I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a stripped landscape. Usually, farmers and ranchers will attempt to hide crops and animals, but if it weren’t for obviously tilled fields, corrals, cattle flops, and hoof prints, you’d doubt anything was ever grown along our route.”
Gullar grunted as he leaned over a map. “Gentlemen, we’ve danced around the issue, but I think we can all be honest and say that the islanders don’t intend to do what we hoped. I suspect we’ll find Adris City as abandoned as we did Moreland City. We don’t know their thinking, but they’ve refused battle. This means we’ll have to shift to the circum-island option and start reducing coastal provinces, one at a time, with naval support. We have enough men to form two or three different forces to ravage clans simultaneously. Istranik’s last reports said that the Keelan clan capital was abandoned, and most clanspeople had retreated into the mountains. If what we saw at Orosz City holds, it may mean the islanders are hoping we’ll give up, which, of course, won’t happen. That also means we’ll have to eventually attack wherever the people have retreated to and hope after the first couple of successful assaults, the other clans see the inevitable.”
“What about Orosz City as a start?” asked Balkto. “It’s apparently an important center for the Caedelli, but is it worth the cost of an assault?”
“I’d rather wait to assess the other sites the clans have withdrawn into. That’s assuming we see the same thing everywhere—abandoned provinces. There may be easier pickings to start with. Whatever we do, it means our stay on Caedellium will be longer than we or the High Command wanted, but that’s the way of the real world, which we all know can be very different from plans on paper.”
Between Salford and Caernford, Keelan Province
“ Now what do we do?” exclaimed a confounded subordinate to the general of the force assigned to attack Keelan Province.
“Damned if I see any options I like,” answered Istranik. “The message from the navy is only that they can’t meet and resupply Marshal Gullar, though they don’t give the reason. It also fails to mention contact with the marshal, so I have to assume he hasn’t reached Adris City. When he does, we can be sure there will be new orders for us.”
He paused and leaned over the Caedellium map that he and his staff surrounded.
“I can’t imagine him wanting us to push north to meet up with him. We don’t have cavalry and would be marching into the island’s interior without naval support. I also don’t see much purpose in what we’re doing here. We intended to draw clan forces toward us, but obviously that’s not happening. We haven’t seen more than a few riders, and they must be locals who didn’t evacuate like the rest of the population. Even the scout patrol we sent toward Caernford got all the way there and found no evidence the islanders have done anything but abandon their clan capital.”
“Which leaves us where?” asked an aide. “Returning to Salford?”
“Yes,” said Istranik. “That’s what I’m going to order. The next question is what to do when we get there. Since we don’t know Gullar’s intentions or what orders he might give, we would either wait at Salford or reembark and return
to Preddi City.”
“As you say, General, there are no good options,” said Istranik’s second-in-command. “But if Gullar orders us to go via ship to another part of the island, the sailing time difference between starting from Keelan or Preddi City is not significant. However, if we’re in Preddi City, we’ll be in position if the marshal wants us to move inland from there, perhaps to meet him.”
“I agree,” said Istranik, “and that’s what we’ll do. Gentlemen, get us turned around and headed back to Salford at a quick march. Send a rider to Salford. We’re only fifteen miles away, and I want our men boarding ships by sunset.”
Preddi City
“Well, if this isn’t a pile of shit,” exclaimed Brigadier Aivacs Zulfa aloud to the other ten officers meeting in General Okan Akuyun’s headquarters.
“Yes, but it’s our shit, and it’s up to us to dig out of it,” replied Istranik. “Marshal Gullar has ordered me to proceed as far as feasible—Moreland City, if possible—with enough supplies for the entire force to return to Preddi City. General Akuyun and I anticipated this order, and wagons are being loaded as we speak. After discussions, we’ve agreed I will resume command of the units the marshal left with General Akuyun. However, many of the men are not combat trained, being farriers, medical personnel, Narth priests, and others. I’ll leave of many of those here and take ten thousand combat men and minimal support to escort the supply convoy.”
Istranik neglected to mention that the “discussion” had verged on acrimonious. Gullar had left Preddi City the center of two parallel commands: Akuyun, with his original 10,000 men and the 8,000 from Gullar; and Istranik with 8,000 for the Keelan attack and 3,000 who now probed toward Sellmor along the western coast. Istranik interpreted Gullar’s order to bring all forces to Moreland City to include both the 8,000 men put under Akuyun and the original 10,000 already on the island. Akuyun flatly refused to give up the latter, because neither he nor his men were formally under Gullar. Their task was protecting Preddi Province and the Narthani civilians now living there. Istranik finally acquiesced, albeit reluctantly, when Administrator Tuzere supported Akuyun.
However, Istranik’s lack of cavalry was too serious to ignore, and Akuyun felt obliged to assign half his cavalry to Istranik for the duration of the relief effort. In return, Istranik recalled the 3,000-man Sellmor probe to bolster the Preddi defenses. Akuyun also volunteered to loan all available engineers commanded by Colonel Ketin, figuring the islanders would attempt to slow Istranik by destroying bridges and constructing obstacles for the wagons. In return, Istranik added another 2,000 men to Akuyun.
Akuyun moved to conclude the meeting with positive news.
“General Istranik, Administrator Tuzere tells me the last of the wagons will be loaded within the hour with enough supplies for both Marshal Gullar’s and your men and horses for a month.”
With polite but chilly comments and thanks, Istranik and his staff left the headquarters. Tuzere was the first to speak once the others left.
“He’s just trying to comply with how he interpreted Gullar’s orders, Okan.”
“I know, and I respect that Gullar left us in a difficult command structure. But since Narthon decided on two independent commands, I have to abide by my original responsibilities. Those are to the troops and civilians under my command.”
“For which I’m grateful,” said Tuzere. “I almost choked when I heard Istranik wanted to take all the troops with him.”
“Still, taking half the cavalry leaves us short of mobile forces,” said Zulfa.
“Which is why I’m calling back to duty the militias we formed before Gullar came,” said Akuyun. “After he arrived, they didn’t seem necessary, and we allowed them to go back to farms and trades. We’ll especially need the mounted units to fill gaps in cavalry resources.”
“You know the civilians will interpret this as things not going well,” Tuzere cautioned. “And news about Gullar’s problems is bound to leak out.”
“It can’t be helped. Better create a little worry than find we needed every man and didn’t have them.”
Twenty Miles South of Morthmin
“Is there no end to these bastards!” Synton Ethlore exclaimed to Vandyl Purmerl. They watched from their vantage point atop an escarpment paralleling the Preddi/Hanslow road as a column of infantry, cannon, and wagons stretched for miles. Cavalry screened ahead and to the flanks, where there was room, and though they couldn’t see the end of the column, they assumed more cavalry followed.
“But it’s got to be just about all they have left,” said Purmerl. “They had to leave enough in Preddi to protect their base and noncombatants.”
“Is that a firm opinion or a prayer?” Ethlore said with a snarl.
“Both, I think,” replied Purmerl. “How many do you estimate?”
“Right now, we don’t have enough fingers and toes. Here’s what we’ll do. The column can’t go on forever, so we’ll wait till we see the end, and you and I compare numbers. Then you pick four men and fresh horses and go find Balwis. He’s somewhere northeast of us, not far off the Hanslow road. We must get this information to Swavebroke as fast as possible. I don’t know what his orders are from the War Council, but he’ll be passing word on to higher command. The first batch of the bastards burned all the semaphore stations, so it’ll take most of two days to alert Orosz City. The rest of us will stay observing to the south of the road. I’ll send more riders if they change direction. Otherwise, I assume we’ll meet up with more of our regiment near Morthmin.”
Purmerl rose to his knees, then sank back next to Ethlore. “Say, Synton. One or both of us is liable to get killed sometime soon, and there’s something I’m curious about. Why did you agree to be Yozef Kolsko’s bodyguard? I have trouble seeing you standing around all day, babysitting.”
“ Now’s the time you want to know?”
“I wouldn’t want you to get killed before I see you again. Then I’d be curious the rest of my life,” said Purmerl.
“Don’t worry,” said Ethlore, “the way things are going, that life may not be all that long.”
“And?” prompted Purmerl.
“For one thing, I’m not getting shot at. At least, not daily. It also pays better than any other job I’m likely to get. That’s important since with the clans cooperating more, it’s getting harder to do anything against the law in one province and be safe once you cross a border.
“Then there’s the advantage of being associated with Yozef. Took me a while to realize that, but once I did, I’ve been free about telling people my position. I haven’t paid for a beer in months and rarely a meal. Doesn’t hurt with the women, either. Of course, I steer away from wives and girls too young. A man has to have his standards.”
“Hmmm . . . ,” said Purmerl. “You think Yozef could use another bodyguard?”
Ethlore guffawed. “As if I’d recommend a scoundrel like you!”
“I thought we were friends,” said Purmerl with a wounded expression.
“It’s best if none of us thinks about friends until this is all over, Vandyl. Losing too many friends can be damned depressing. However, if both of us are alive a month from now, ask me again. Now get your sorry ass to Balwis.”
Three hours later, Purmerl came upon a dragoon company and was directed to Balwis’s position another five miles on.
Balwis listened to Purmerl’s report, repeatedly slapping his pant leg with riding gloves. “Upwards of ten thousand of ’em, huh? And over two hundred wagons, you say?”
“That’s Synton’s estimate,” answered Purmerl. “I think it’s more than two hundred, and they move like they’re fully loaded. They also have men riding on top. Looks like it’s infantry taking turns to save their feet.”
“And it lets the entire force move faster since they don’t need as many breaks for the men on foot,” said Balwis. “Okay, I’ll send word to Swavebroke. With that many wagons, it must be intended for either a resupply to the Narthani army that passed through here
before or plans to establish a more permanent base in the island’s interior. I’d guess farther than Hanslow, maybe where Moreland City used to be or even at Orosz City. Whatever their aim, the men we’re seeing here combined with those left in Hanslow would be a significant force.”
“Well,” said a battalion major, “at least something good comes out of them burning Moreland City. Now there’re no structures left for them to use. As for Orosz City, I think the bastards are in for a shock.”
Balwis’s eyes narrowed.
“Oh, I know men like me aren’t supposed to know the plans of the War Council, but word gets around. Whatever is planned must involve Orosz City, given what we heard was going on there.”
Balwis sighed. Despite Yozef’s entreaties about “loose lips,” one of his novel phrases, Balwis wasn’t surprised that hints got as far down the chain of command as battalions. He wasn’t a pious man, but he found himself saying a silent prayer that no clues reached Narthani ears, just in case God was listening.
Orosz City
Feren Bakalacs read one of the two identical semaphore messages just handed to him by a teenage girl. Now serving as a messenger, she filled one of many roles to free men for other tasks. He looked back and forth to confirm the two messages were identical.
Fifteen minutes later, Yozef Kolsko and Culich Keelan finished reading the same messages.
From: Harmon Swavebroke
To: War Council
Narthani force est 8 to 11 thousand
Move NNE toward Hanslow
Riders to follow
“Smart of Swavebroke to use the semaphore,” said Culich.
“Yes,” agreed Yozef, sighing. “I should have thought of that.”
“That’s we , Yozef,” said Bakalacs. “The responsibility for thinking ahead rests on all of us.”
Tales of Anyar Page 9