by Ryan Evans
We swung by where I’d set up my bedroll and picked up a change of clothes along with one of my other tabards. Glancing at my current clothing, I’d need them. As I stood in the seven foot tall grass ripping handfuls out and scouring my body with it in the pre-dawn light, my suspicions were verified. I saw that the only thing keeping my clothing on was my armor.
My armor had deep scratches and punctures from claws and teeth but was otherwise intact. After I’d removed my armor, I saw saurian claws had left my shirt shredded in several places and it barely held together. My pants weren’t in much better shape. Looking at the damaged outfit, I noticed that I’d been scratched, stabbed, or bitten pretty much anywhere that had been reachable. Apparently, my new abilities made me almost impossible to kill unless someone started separating body parts. While I was a little taken aback by the amount of damage I’d received in the battle, I found a new appreciation for my overpowered regeneration.
Sergeant Iglias and Tristan let me clean up in peace, but I could see their looks between each other as I inspected my clothing and tried to remove dried blood from my skin. It was abundantly clear the saurians had inflicted immeasurable damage during the battle, but thinking back on it, I couldn’t really remember it. Only vague stabs and pinches registered during the red-hazed fight, for which I was grateful. I had no desire to remember all the damage I’d taken in clear details.
After allowing myself as much alone time as I could, I got dressed in my fresh clothing and had Tristan help strap on my armor and weapons. I took a moment to look at the enemy necklaces I’d collected, of which I now had ten.
The necklaces looked to be fashioned from pieces of bone. The white, porous material had small holes drilled through it, allowing the beasts to pass a leather cord through the individual pieces. Though they were large, the bones weighed less than expected. While each one was elaborate, I noticed that all the pieces save for the very front one were identical.
On a whim, I took the leather cord out of the seam of my ruined shirt and compared it to the size of the cord of the necklaces. Happy with the similarity, I broke each of the fancy trophies and remove the unique middle piece. After I’d taken the ten pieces off, I threaded them on my own leather cord and tied it together. The result was a trophy that laid on top of my tabard. It had elaborately carved figures along my front with room for adding new pieces at a later time. I had a feeling I’d have ample opportunity to expand the piece in the future.
“It looks much better than the earlier arrangement, sir,” Sergeant Iglias said, “I worried you’d look like a homeless beggar with all the baubles around your neck. This way, you’ll have more room for trophies should we keep killing saurian leaders.”
I nodded and agreed with his assessment as we headed back towards the camp. I’d put off speaking with Lady Kyla long enough. The sun would be breaking over the horizon soon. Then it would be time to march again.
Sergeant Iglias filled me in on how he and the other sergeants had redistributed the soldiers after the battle. We now had three groups. One group would stay with the refugees and help coordinate the militia while the other two would shadow the formation. We’d have slightly less flexibility in our maneuvers, but it was all we could do.
As we walked through the camp, I noticed something drawn on the equipment of the Silvanti soldiers and militia troops. The symbol was a crescent moon shape with five claw marks slashing through it. The militia and soldiers had the pattern drawn on the faces of their shields while the soldiers also had it above the house symbol on their tabards.
I looked over at Sergeant Iglias with a raised eyebrow. “Your new symbol, sir. The dye was made with the ashes from the campfires and water. Tristan and I didn’t want to draw ours on until after you’d seen it on the others,” he said in explanation. Not knowing what to say, I nodded. I was honored by the gesture the soldiers had shown me.
“Someone else will have to draw the symbol on my own tabards. I’m not an artist, and I’m sure I’ll somehow mess it up if I try,” I said a short time later to Tristan’s snickering. Sergeant Iglias assured me that the best artist in the army would see to it as soon as we got marching.
All levity died as we entered what was left of the imperial camp. They had taken care of the dead and wounded, but it was easy to track the deep furrows and disturbed earth where fighting had occurred.
“Ah, if it isn’t the scourge of the saurians,” One of the lieutenants, the weasel-kind, said as I approached. The other lieutenant snickered at the comment, but I didn’t give them the satisfaction of a response. He might have been trying to insult me, but his scent still spoke of fear.
“Lieutenant Valian, what can we help you with?” Lady Kyla asked, ignoring her subordinates’ remarks. Her face was the same impassive mask as always, but I could sense fatigue and sadness in her eyes. She had cleaned off after the battle, but light scarring on her arms showed where her regeneration had repaired damage received in battle. I was pleased to see she fought alongside her own soldiers, instead of running like the officers and nobility in my own house.
“I came first and foremost to offer my condolences for the soldiers you lost. I also wanted to make sure your people would be ready to march at dawn,” I said in as neutral a tone as I could. Her piercing gaze and tense body language indicated the knight was on a knife’s edge after the battle.
She smiled at my words though it didn’t reach her eyes. “Thank you for your respect towards our fallen, lieutenant. I appreciate it. I feel that all leaders mourn when they lose soldiers under their command. I know that is the way of it for me. By your eyes, I suspect it’s the same for you,” she said looking my in the eye for a moment before averting her gaze. I saw much loss in the green eyes before they looked away.
The contact was an acknowledgement of the same burden. I found it touching, but all too soon the moment was gone, and the impassive face I’d come to associate with Lady Kyla returned. “We’ll be ready to march without issue at first light,” she said, and I took her tone as a sign of dismissal.
I gave a slight bow and turned to leave. While I processed what had just happened, I didn’t catch the knowing look between Sergeant Iglias and Tristan.
Chapter 16
First light came and went without incident as we continued our trek to Fort Granas. The night’s battle ensured that everyone was awake and ready when it was time to depart, and the refugees were just as motivated to move as the soldiers were. All of us were nothing short of eager to leave this place.
Despite our willingness to get moving, our pace left something to be desired. The battle had taken any rest we’d gotten before midnight. The only positive thing left behind was the massive pile of saurian bodies and the pyramid of heads mirroring them on the side of the road.
It was a disturbing thing to think of those testaments to death as positive, but as I looked at the bodies of our enemies, I saw worth in my soldiers’ struggles and sacrifices. We may have taken losses, but we’d made the saurians pay a far steeper price. It was with grim satisfaction I marched down the road with the remaining Silvanti army.
I worried that the death of so many townspeople would make it impossible to replenish the losses and stand up the militia. Instead, I found an overabundance of willing recruits. We had more able bodies than we had weapons and shields. Even the town representatives showed an interest in being a part of the force.
The reasons for this were twofold. First, everyone saw the armed townspeople stand against the saurians and prevail. They had faced the object of their fear and anger and won. Their success brought volunteers in droves. Second, rumors of my exploits during the battle had become widely known. My story had spread like wildfire among the camp. With such fantastical claims, the refugees held out hope that I could lead them through this danger to safety.
With the rumors of what I’d done permeating the camp, I found myself more isolated than ever. Many of the refugees and Silvanti soldiers looked at me with a respect that made me uncomfor
table. At the same time, I saw a cautious hope in the eyes of some imperial soldiers. Those that didn’t idolize me smelled of fear whenever I got too close.
The only ones that seemed to be unfazed by my exploits were the more senior sergeants and Tristan, who I moved to my guard detail along with Selene. They both insisted on training the scout groups, but Sergeant Iglias convinced them they’d be of better use near me. I needed people that wouldn’t fear speaking their minds around me.
Tristan, as my best friend, was the only unranked soldier that fit the bill, and I told him as much. Selene didn’t know me well enough to be as open, but I saw in her personality the potential to look past my rank and aura given time. Besides, Tristan would have killed me if I left her on the scout detail without him.
The two imperial lieutenants openly refuted what they’d heard of my exploits, but they only did so when away from me. After several near altercations, they figured out that the refugees felt indebted to me and took offense at their naysaying. I enjoyed watching the two officers put in their place by commoners, so I let it go without confronting them myself.
We marched throughout the day, only stopping to give the townspeople short breaks. We ate trail rations on the move, and those needing to use the restroom did so in groups while the formation continued traveling.
To pass the time during the march, I contented myself with watching the nearby Silvanti soldiers train the militia troops. It was with a sense of pride that I watched my soldiers interact with the refugees. I found no end of enjoyment in seeing the militia trying so hard to learn. Watching them made me realize that I truly considered all the Silvanti soldiers following me to be my army.
As I observed my soldiers helping the townspeople, I noticed the sensation of being watched. At first, I couldn’t figure out from where the feeling was originating. After several instances, I realized it was from Kyla watching me interact with my people.
I began to ponder the situation I was approaching. We would arrive at the fort in another two-and-a-half days of marching at this pace. Assuming we survived, we’d meet back up with the rest of the Silvanti nobles. These were the same nobles that had left their troops to die. The soldiers’ feelings of abandonment were obvious every time I mentioned the other Silvanti officers. Each of them had chosen to wear my symbol, which I also now wore, on their shields and above their house crest. I couldn’t, in good faith, give them back to the command of those that had run away.
I spent most of the day thinking about the situation with Silvanti House, and before I knew it, it was time to make camp again. Sending out soldiers from the two scouting parties, we ascertained that we had again been shadowed, but from a much greater distance than they’d previously approached. The enemy movements were a mystery, but my soldiers and the militia would be ready no matter what happened. We established clearly defined watch details just in case an attack came. We wouldn’t be taken by surprise.
While we tried to prepare the main camp for an attack, the imperial soldiers continued to focus on their own area. I didn’t know why they refused to integrate into the main force at night, but they wouldn’t be moved on the subject. I resigned myself to the fact they wouldn’t work with us unless the saurians tried to wipe us out again.
Our caution might have kept us from getting as much sleep as we otherwise would have, but the night passed without incident. No attack came, and as we prepared for the second day’s march, my scouts reported evidence of only a few saurians coming near our position while the main force slept. We were cautiously optimistic as we continued on for the second day.
During our travel, my regular soldiers practiced various formation and movement drills with portions of the militia. They would give signals, and those participating in the drills would have to quickly form up into groups from their positions among the refugees. Throughout it all, they made sure armed personnel constantly covered the outer edges.
The maneuvers were sloppy at first, and the imperial soldiers laughed at the disorganized movements. Despite the rough start, things became crisper and more disciplined as the day progressed. By the evening, even Lady Kyla shocked everyone by commenting on the progress of the militia.
We were all sure the enemy would attack us on the last night of camping before we reached a secured location. In our minds, there was no way they’d pass up our last night of vulnerability before arriving at the fort. The entire refugee camp along with the regular soldiers had a nervous energy running throughout for the entire night. It reminded me of the air before a thunderstorm, the potential for action and violence was there, though nothing happened.
Despite our nervousness and certainty of an impending attack, none came. We marched at dawn without delay. My scouts again reported that small numbers of saurians had observed the camp, but no real numbers challenged us or came near. The rumor floating among the refugees and soldiers was that the enemy was scared to engage us after the fight we’d given them.
“What do you think their reason for not attacking is?” Lady Kyla asked me as we walked down the hard-packed road. It had been the topic of discussion for everyone since we began the last morning’s march, but I was still surprised that she asked for my opinion.
“Honestly, I suspect they want us in the fort,” I replied as I looked out over our surroundings. The terrain had changed again. Where once long grasses waved in the wind for as far as the eye could see, it was now being replaced by new vegetation. Short, stubby grasses and bushes with occasional bare spots of sand dotted the landscape and offered no cover. The gently rolling hills that could conceal large groups had given way to flat land with no elevations or depressions.
“What makes you think that?” the weasel-kind lieutenant asked in his ever present smug tone when it was clear I wasn’t going to readily share anymore. Over the last couple of days, I’d really come to dislike the bastard and had to keep myself from reacting to his attitude.
“I think they have a much larger force than what we’ve seen so far. If I was them, and I’d lost several small battles to a group like ours, I’d give up on trying to wipe them out. Our destination is clear. We’re traveling with no real food or supplies, and once we arrive, they’ll know where all of their enemies in the area are located. In their shoes, I’d stop worrying about small engagements and think about either a siege or trying to draw the full enemy out into a large decisive battle. Either way, having our party join up with the main force only makes that easier. I suspect their last attack was as much from a sense of indignation at us surviving their initial assaults as it was from anything else,” I said looking out at nothing in particular.
Everyone was quiet after my assessment. I’d given them quite a bit on which to think. If I was correct, while we had inflicted casualties, we hadn’t really touched the saurians’ true numbers.
“If you’re right, a prolonged siege will be their most likely course of action. The fort has several deep wells supplying its water but not unlimited food stores. With our people there, it will mean over ten thousand mouths to feed. They could keep us hemmed in while they supplied their forces from the nearby plains until we were too weak to put up a real fight,” Lady Kyla said.
The conversation ended after Lady Kyla gave her assessment. The weight of the truth was too much for levity. We each felt like we were heading into an uncertain future. The only absolute was that there was violence and conflict ahead. We continued the march in an anxious silence.
Despite the melancholy that hung over the leadership, the refugees and soldiers were in gradually better moods. A speck on the horizon grew larger and larger throughout the day. Eventually, the speck became an unclear mass, then an imposing structure that lorded over the entire area. The finish line was in sight. We were almost there. Each step closer was another weight off the backs of the soldiers and townspeople.
The fort was a testament to the Soltaran Empire’s wealth and power. It was also an example of the extravagance that some attributed to the empire’s decay. Built to h
ouse upwards of thirty thousand troops, Fort Granas was the last great structure on the eastern border.
An imperial prince supposedly commissioned it as a show of his strength when he assumed the throne. Not a single stone was local, and it was rumored several hundred slaves had died during its construction. While the fort was impressive, it was so tactically unnecessary it bordered on ridiculous. There were places in the heart of the empire that had nowhere near this level of security. Its large size added to its remote location ensured that the fort hadn’t been even half staffed for decades.
As the sun found its position directly overhead, we finally came close enough to make out details. While the outer stones were impressive, noticeable cracks and seams had formed. That these faults hadn’t been repaired spoke volumes.
Despite its flaws, the fort still looked intimidating. The walls were easily thirty feet tall with a length and depth that could support thousands atop them. Besides the abundance of space for defenders, the top of the outer defenses sported evenly spaced platforms for artillery equipment every twenty feet or so, though only a few such pieces were visible. Small gaps were periodically placed along the wall face at various heights for arrows and spears to be used against an invader. Each corner even had a tower that would be perfect for large catapults. Even though the spaces were empty, it was almost possible to imagine how formidable such weapons would be mounted on the walls.
After the ordeal of the last several days, I could see everyone’s morale soar at being so close to shelter. I was proud that my soldiers maintained discipline and stayed vigilant instead of getting wrapped up in the excitement. Even the militia members, taking their cue from my soldiers, remained much more stoic than the other refugees.
At close to three hundred yards from the fort, the gargantuan metal gates opened with a loud shrieking sound. A mounted patrol of one hundred imperial soldiers exited the large gate. They took their time to form up into neat rows before slowly trotting in our direction.