Black Warrior

by Jolie Jaquinta

Chapter 25 – Situation Report

  General Alessa strode purposefully through the darkening camp. Her dark bobbed hair framed the red warrior's paint on her face just like the scattering of other Amazons in the 9th army. It was a traditional army so it had mix of people from all over the Empire. But the red cape flowing from her shoulders set her apart as an officer and her gold chastened breastplate set her further apart as the army's commander.

  Despite her steady stride, she wasn't actually going anywhere in particular. She was due to meet the Queen soon and wanted to organize her thoughts and get herself together. She had no idea what she was going to say to the Queen. But it always helped to walk amongst her troops, hear them call out to her, and witness the respect they had for her firsthand to drive away the self-doubt and worry that plagued her when she was alone.

  Queen Jesca was going to want to know the situation. That was easy enough. But she was also going to know what to do about the situation. And, other than fob it all off on the mages, Alessa was out of ideas.

  Right now things are mostly a stalemate. As long as the gods kept them supplied with mana, they could continue to throw bodies at the problem. Even though these Forsaken fought like a demonic paragon, Romitu weapons and magical equipment made up the difference.

  The lunar cycle didn't help either. They thought they had the problem contained. And then, suddenly, over the course of a moonless night, they were overrun once more. Discipline saved it from being a rout, but they had lost a lot of ground. They were still losing ground, but not as fast as before. She was confident that they would turn the tide and beat them back. Just in time for the next new moon.

  General Alessa snapped a salute to some ratings coming back from mess reflexively. They were all good troops. They could keep this up for quite some time. But from what they knew these Forsaken had been doing this for centuries. This was their game, not hers. She wasn't going to beat them at this. And the troops deserved a winning chance. Judging by Porterhouse's experience it really was just a game to these not-quite-dead fighters. Their spirits must be high, with novelty like they've never had in a very long time. And the prospect of being locked back up would make them fight like berserkers.

  Everything kept coming back around to there being no military solution. And that just wasn't good enough. It may turn out to be true, but the Queen was going to expect Alessa to have some sort of options. That token force from Syros hadn't done so badly. Maybe they could recruit another army or two. Or let two of the breakouts run rampant and divert their armies to decisively drive back one. Then shift back. But how to keep them in The Black Hole?

  She was walking the perimeter now, the lights of the tactical gate getting closer ahead. Large dunes of sand rose to her right marking the edge of the camp. The whole area had been levelled when they arrived and the sand not used for fill had been pushed into berms on the side.

  Except, there was a work crew here, busily shoveling the sand into one of several waiting wagons. Alessa's walk slowed as she passed. The wagons weren't military issue, but looked to be the type used by civilians for military contracts. The size of their tactical gates dictated certain restrictions on the width and length of carts that were different than the ones normally used for commerce. So it made them somewhat distinctive.

  She came to a stop at the head wagon and looked over the shovellers. Some were soldiers wearing off-duty uniforms, and others were civilians in plainclothes. By their dress and the fact several were troglodytes, she guessed they were from Irontree. Then, lounging about was one tall, thin figure she recognized.

  “Greywind?” she asked inquiringly. He turned with a guilty start. “What exactly is going on here?”

  “Oh! General Alessa!” he said lightly. He made a show of rushing over to her, skipping around the laborers. He kept moving until he was on the opposite side of her and she had to turn away from them to keep facing him. “How delightful to see you! It's been absolutely ages.”

  “Yes, yes”, said Alessa. “Other than the odd drink at the Russet Monster's Rest the army keeps me kind of busy. And since you normally avoid authority like the plague, yes, it has been absolutely ages.”

  “Well it's good to see you now”, said Greywind. “I love the hair. It really suits you. And those gold highlights!” He gestured at her breastplate and shook his head in awe. “Stunning!”

  “Thank you Greywind”, she said patiently. “But you still haven't said what you're doing here.”

  “Oh, I was getting tired of the city”, he said. “Out here, in the desert, you can just...” he spread his arms and breathed deeply. “Unwind! Do you know what I mean?”

  “No”, said Alessa. “I don't. I've been too busy fighting screaming hordes of damned souls to notice.”

  “Oh”, said Greywind, waving her comment away. “Forget the day job. Look!” he pointed upwards. The rapid sunset was over and the canopy of twinkling stars had come out. “The stars! They're so amazing here. There must be hundreds of them!”

  “So you came here for the stars?” asked Alessa, fighting a smile.

  Greywind nodded mutely, dabbing at a corner of his eyes. “They're so beautiful”, he said in an emotional voice.

  “What about your friends with the shovels?” she said, gesturing over her shoulder with her thumb.

  “Ah”, said Greywind, his composure changing. “Them.” He coughed and straightened his tunic. “They came for the stars too.”

  “Greywind!” snapped Alessa, warningly.

  “It's all above board!” said Greywind, pleadingly. “Your folk are off duty. Just working off some friendly gambling debts with the sweat of their brow. The trogs are all paid for. Totally above board.” He smiled pleasantly and wrung his hands.

  Alessa rubbed her head. “Greywind”, she said tiredly. “You never do things above board. Even when it's easier that way. What are you up to?”

  “OK! OK!” complained Greywind. “You're right. I confess! I'm stealing your sand!” He held both hands in front of him. “Shackle me! Take me away! Don't bother calling a lawyer. I spent most of my third grades in the magistrate's office. I know the law. Let my punishment be determined by the value of the crime. Which, with the current market value for sand means you can lock me up and throw away the key for, oh, about seven minutes.” He put his hands back on his hips and looked at her challengingly.

  “That's the nice thing about being in charge in the military”, said Alessa coolly. “I can use my discretion about when to engage in time wasting activities. I don't want to lock you up. I just want to know what's going on.”

  Greywind sighed deeply. “Well, there's all these carts bringing stuff and resupply to you out here in the desert. And they're all going back empty. Seems a terrible waste of gate resources. So I figured...” he wiggled his hands. “Why go back empty?”

  “So you're smuggling sand back to Irontree?” asked Alessa.

  “Yes!” he said. She raised her eyebrow. “Well, there's precious little else here.”

  “And what are you going to do with the sand back in Irontree?” she asked.

  “I thought I'd do a bit of gardening”, he said. “Get in touch with my Elvish roots. Mom always said you need good, well drained, sandy soil to grow turnips.”

  “I thought you never knew your mother”, said Alessa.

  “You had to bring that up!” huffed Greywind.

  “Fine. I've changed my mind. I don't care what bizarre scam you plan to run in Irontree with the sand. It's not my problem. I'll leave it up to the civil authorities back there. As long as the military supply line isn't tampered with.”

  “Aye-firmative”, said Greywind. “Can I go now?”

  “Yes”, said Alessa. “But one thing: if I ever catch you gambling again with any of my troops you will pay for it.”

  Greywind looked at her indignantly. “What are you going to do, confiscate my dice?”

  “No”, said Alessa. “I'm going to hold you down while Devonshire casts a pattern magic spell to find
every place on your person where you've hidden your favorite dice, we're going to take each one of them, and re-adjust the balance so they throw fair.”

  “You monster!” cried Greywind, aghast.

  “Carry on”, said Alessa, saluting as she moved off into the night.