Cinders of Magic

Chapter 7-2

Elias fell in with the woman, just another pair of soldiers on the side street. The city of Orailse never fully fell asleep as long as it was full of the 6th army that held it against invaders. The lights of bars still shone clearly in the night, and the occasional girl in low-cut, bright dress beckoned passersby to come and spend their monthly pay inside. No one ever had to try hard to separate a soldier from his marks when there was anything for the selling.

Farther north through the city, away from the center, the bars multiplied, and makeshift barracks built from abandoned tenement buildings could be found. There was damage in the stone facades of the buildings, a show of how close the Sloanish had come to taking the city three years prior.

Fighting in the city streets had been worse than the trenches, more confusing. In the trenches, a man knew the direction that he needed to go to find the enemy, only occasionally being surprised from behind by a razorback that had buried themselves or tried to hide at the bottom of a mortar hole beneath a dead body. In the streets of a city, the enemy could come from any direction, from the window of any of the high buildings, or even up out of a sewer grate. The Sloanish harried Fiorian forces from inside their own city for two months until they had been pushed out, and the three years following became the long march back along the twenty walls. Elias knew that the last wall had been claimed, but still, the memory of the field beyond it seemed unreal to him.

The pair passed the crumpled corner of a building where the rubble had been moved far enough from the side street to stop anyone from tripping on it. The telltale hard angle of a cube stood out from the crumbled rock half-buried in the road itself.

“What did the man do?” Mila asked. The woman had followed his gaze to the aftermath of the Sloanish weapon. “The officer, I mean.”

“Be a coward.” Elias had not meant the words to sound as harsh as he made them.

“I see.” The woman did appear to see. From the smirk she gave Elias, he figured she either thought him a fool for hitting a man for being a coward or approved; perhaps both.

They continued past the broken building and were out of the city itself only a short time later. Past the original part of the city, row upon row of tents stood shaded in the light of the night. Fires burned throughout the camp, but the liveliness of the night was nothing near what it was inside the city itself. Three soldiers, set to guard even the southern end of the camp, looked Elias and Mila over as they entered and nodded with the courteous recognition one man will give another.

“He commanded the transport south,” Elias said, not meaning to elaborate but feeling compelled to anyways. “The medical evacuation specifically. He abandoned the soldiers he had been sworn to see south when the Sloanish ambushed them. I had seven soldiers on those carts.”

Elias looked for a reaction on the woman’s face, but during the few moments of light between the darkness from one fire to the next, he saw only a stoic concentration there.

“The 4th’s camp is to the west,” she said, making a left turn at some unmarked spot and taking them off in the direction. She held her silence for the rest of their journey after that, and Elias did not feel much like talking more. Recalling the news of the caravan’s destruction--at the stony hands of ogres no less--had his guts twisted in knots.

The two passed tent and shadowed soldier without garnering much notice. Some of the tents in the camp were large enough to house fifty men comfortably with enough room left to fit another twenty more when they needed to. Others were decorated elaborate enough to give the impression that the minor lords who owned them thought it was important to bring their wealth along with them to war. There were fewer of those types than Elias remembered, but still, they stood out by the multitude of fires and guards at their entrances even in the night.

The colors of the 6th army tents gave way to the black and green that comprised the 4th. The shape of the 4th army tents was strange, supported on four sides as if they thought themselves to be regular buildings, even having flat roofs. Elias did not believe they’d last past a single stonefall without collapsing from the piled weight of ice.

Mila stopped in front of a tent that looked a little different from any of the others. The number 800 was painted onto a sign that hung left of the tent’s flaps, the company’s number.

“They’re waiting for us inside,” Mila said. She turned and adjusted the back of his jacket collar; the stiff fabric refused to fold the correct way.

“Waiting for what?” Elias took the opportunity to check his sleeves and buttons. He plucked a loose string from the hem of his wrist but found no more in his quick inspection.

“A briefing about the assault. Captain Eladrine has been in discussions for days about what the plan will be. It seems that the enlisted are finally being let in on what will be happening.”

“The attack is that near?”

“So it would seem.” Mila pursed her lips in thought, and with a nod, turned and made her way into the tent. Elias hurried after her.

Despite the recent arrival of the 4th army to the Orailse field, the captain’s command tent had been erected expertly and furnished with deadwood chairs. Making heavy and sturdy furniture was the only thing that deadwood was good for. A massive table dominated the center of the tent, and atop it was laid out a multitude of painstakingly detailed maps of the terrain around the southern and western regions of Lake Trina. Groups of soldiers were represented by wooden triangles that could be fitted together where forces were massed or left divided where spread. As if waiting solely for their arrival, Eladrine launched ahead into his monologue, gracing Elias with a nod towards an empty chair before turning back on the map in front of him. There were three other men in the tent as well, all squad sergeants, that sat with distant attention on the words cascading over them and the way their captain moved wooden triangles around the map. With the number of people crammed into the tent, an oppressive heat sat over the group.

By the time Eladrine was nearing the end of his third reiteration of the plan going forward, more than one of the arrayed sergeants was having difficulty keeping their eyes open. None cared to voice a complaint and not for fear of reprisal. The traditional task of explaining planning at least four times was something that permeated the higher levels of the Fiorian military. It helped to make sure that everyone was in step but held the unfortunate drawback of causing meetings to take an eternity to end. Curiously, each attempt to introduce the same tradition at the enlisted level always failed as soon as the officer’s back was turned.

“Highlord willing the Sloanish will be routed by the third hour,” Eladrine finished with a long sigh as he slumped back into his chair at the head of the table. The captain had appeared haggard throughout the meeting with the five squad sergeants he oversaw, representing just under five hundred men.

“Maybe they will even surrender their entire army as well,” Mila said, earning a few chuckles from those nearby.

“I was just about to ask if anyone had anything to add,” Eladrine said. He reached for his glass of liquor nearby. “Might you grace us with your opinion, Mila?”

“It’s too ambitious,” she said. “Even with three, or two and a half, armies bearing down on them, the Sloanish have had nearly three years to fortify their position along the lake. Don’t the scout reports say they number easily fifty-thousand infantry and nearly four hundred ogres in the area around the lake? I do not believe we can destroy their position with simple numbers.”

“We’ve had artillery raining down on them for the last five days. If we hit them right, then we will find their position plenty soft,” A man across from Sergeant Mila interjected.

“Five days of artillery?” she scoffed. “If that was all it took to defeat the enemy, this war would have been won long ago.”

“So you believe that the Stormcaller will fail to breach their lines and open our path,” Eladrine said. Mila looked about to say more but shut her mouth, as did the rest of the sergeants arrayed. “Don’t be afraid to speak ill of the Stormcaller. The Adjudicators don’t execute people for speaking their mind.”

“Unless their words are considered harmful to the kingdom,” Elias said. A few of the sergeants shot dour glares in his direction. “As far as I know, the last time that man saw true combat was in the Haive campaign. I think what no one is willing to say is that the Stormcaller hasn’t seen battle in two decades. How are we to know his companies of channelers might be able to bring down several hundred ogres in the time that we have?”

Eladrine considered his drink for a moment before tipping the cup back and draining it. “You know, Major Liddel had the same question when we met with the man in the general’s tent the other day. Suffice it to say that his inquiry was proven to be founded on the incorrect assumption that the Adjudicator had gotten weak over the years.” He pulled a bottle from beneath the table and poured himself another drink. “I hear you, Sergeant Devault, but I would assure you there will be little the Sloanish will be able to do to stop our vanguard.” The Reyori woman nodded at her captain’s words, clearly unconvinced but not willing to push the matter.

“Is there anything else someone wants to address?” Eladrine asked. When no one answered, he stood from his seat, and all seated moved to do likewise. “You are all dismissed then. Make sure that your soldiers understand their orders and are well rested for the march. Sergeant Rook, if you would stay behind.”

Elias took his seat once more and waited as the rest of the sergeants exited the tent to relay the plan of battle to their squadrons. It did not take long; most were eager to be out of the hot tent to have the opportunity to stretch out the cramps that had settled into their legs from too much sitting around. When they were alone, Eladrine took his now empty glass and a bottle of liquor to a cabinet at the back of the tent and began searching for something else to drink.

“Would you like anything,” he said from over his shoulder.

“No, sir. Too early for my liking.”

“Hah,” Eladrine barked a laugh. “It is still yesterday for me.”

“You should get some of that rest you were speaking about then, sir.” Elias pulled one of the nearby maps on the table closer and looked to the rocky terrain surrounding Lake Trina. The rocky slopes were incredibly steep, and all the surrounding plant life had long been stomped out, which meant there would be hardly any cover for soldiers pouring down once they crested the ridge surrounding the lake.