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The Praetorian
Part 5
The remnant of Marshal Wallace’s battalion reached the pier three days later. In that time, they had found no evidence of any enemy activity north of the pit trap with the dead Praetorians. From the moment Duncan had led the singing of the funeral dirge, the grimals had left them alone. Duncan ordered the skippers of seven of the galleasses to return to Valandov. His platoon then set out on the remaining ship.
The Praetorians conducted themselves almost in a robotic fashion — they expressed no emotion when carrying out orders. The loss at Ravelin, at once shocking and humiliating, had sapped the joy of performing their duties right out of them. What remained were empty shells. The most debilitating aspect for them was that they were honor bound to avenge their comrades and ensure that they had not died in vain, but they were powerless to do anything. Certainly, many felt that they had abandoned their people by retreating and not facing death at their sides. Duncan’s argument about living to continue the fight was logical but didn’t ease the remorse.
They obeyed Duncan’s orders blindly, as if they didn’t care whether the next moment brought death or life. Duncan felt as if he had somehow failed in his duty, but he saw no way to raise the morale of his people. He was convinced that had it not been for the Praetorian oath of allegiance to one’s commanders, some of these survivors would have mutinied by now.
Duncan shared their grief, but for him there was something much more. He had felt something when he locked eyes with that grimal just before the ambush. He couldn’t quite express it, but there had been some kind of rudimentary exchange, a communication of sorts. He knew about the attack before it came.
Then there was Captain Blaine. Despite the injury, her weakness of will had become painfully apparent these last few days. She seemed paralyzed to assume any kind of command ever since Duncan’s theory about the grimals was proven correct. He had resorted to treating her like another lieutenant — she deferred to him in every situation.
Which is probably as it should be, he mused. She should never have been promoted in the first place.
On the morning of the second day of their journey down river, Blaine awoke Duncan from a fitful sleep.
“Captain Milius, there’s something you should see.”
“Can’t you handle it?” he answered groggily. “This is my first break in twenty hours.”
“I’m sorry,” replied Blaine. She brushed back a strand of red hair that had fallen over her face and grimaced at the pain in her side. “It’s just that I think I know why we haven’t seen any grimm activity since the fight.”
With a groan, Duncan sat up and dressed himself. He left his quarters and followed Blaine to the ship’s bow. A small crowd was gathered here and they stared forlornly ahead. Duncan motioned some of them aside so he could see.
The entire river was blocked. Trees and boulders had been pulled out of the ground and laid across the Saar to form a solid line right across the galleasses’ path.
“It doesn’t look like we can plow through it,” stated a corporal.
“We can put to shore and try to move enough of it to get the ships by,” suggested a private.
“Do you have any idea how much that must weigh?”
“If we get everyone to work together, including the crews of all eight ships…”
Duncan closed his eyes and shook his head. His mind flashed back to his childhood, to memories of his birth parents drilling him on the locations of safe paths through the forest. Although many years had passed, he still remembered the network of trails. As Duncan rubbed the scar on his cheek absently, he heard his father’s voice — his Teivan father — reiterate lessons he had learned long ago.
Grimals always settle near dependable water sources, he lectured. Although some roving bands exist, they tend to stay near the rivers and streams that attract larger herbivores and omnivores, which are their main source of food.
Then why don’t we see them crowding along the riverbanks, Duncan remembered asking.
If they stayed too close to the water sources, their prey would pick up their scents, came the answer. No, grimals are smarter than that. They carry their water back to their settlements, and they set traps out of sight of the water’s edge where we won’t see them. Knowing grimal habits is the key to knowing how to live with them. You see the damage to those trees, and the way the undersides of the leaves are facing outward? They look natural, don’t they?
Duncan nodded.
They’re territorial markers to let other grimal bands know that a clan-group has already claimed the water and food resources in this part of the forest. By recognizing these signs, we know where to cut our trails so we can avoid violent confrontations with them. We may even be able to imitate their markers to tell them where human territory begins and ends.
The debate over how to proceed subsided as the Praetorians and sailors standing with Duncan awaited his response. He knew they were growing impatient, but he had to consider the options. They watched as he wrestled with himself, trying to convince himself of something. Finally, he looked up with a dejected expression. He was about to violate a centuries-old taboo. “Head for the north bank,” he sighed. “We’ll gather what supplies we can carry. Prepare stretchers for our wounded.”
A lieutenant glanced at him. “Sir?”
“You heard me. We’re disembarking. There’s no way we can get around this blockade. The debris is impossible to move — even with all the crews working together. Whoever did this is bound to return, and we’re in no shape to defend ourselves against another onslaught. We’ll head north to the Palladum.”
“How?” asked Blaine. “The intersection with the Nillus is still a day away. The river is the only way to get there.”
Duncan hesitated. “That’s not entirely true. There are… Teivan routes.”
Blaine and the others around her exchanged mystified glances.
Their commander explained. “We don’t have time for my biography. Suffice to say that I’m privy to certain paths through the forest that most Federates aren’t aware of. I can guide us safely to the Palladum.”
This only increased the unease of the soldiers and sailors within earshot. That he was Teivan was obvious from his accent, but his status as their new commanding officer did nothing to counteract a lifetime of conviction that Teivans were not to be trusted.
“Won’t we come across more grimms?” ventured Blaine. “Won’t they notice the passage of fifty-six fighters and three hundred sailors?”
“Probably, but they won’t bother us. I… that is, Teivans know where the territorial boundaries for all the grimal clans lie, and we know how to avoid them. Our paths are safe for human travel. You have to trust me. Teivans have been living side-by-side with grimals for centuries without trouble.”
“Maybe they’re trying to force us back on foot since they know they can’t ambush us while we’re in the middle of the river.”
The commander sighed. Wallace would have relieved Blaine if she’d spoken to him this way in front of the common soldiery. Duncan, however, knew that he had to regain the respect of his troops. Besides, there was something to be said for having an informed soldiery. They tended to excel when they understood why they were doing something.
“You’re assuming that the grimms are responsible for that blockade,” replied Duncan.
“Who else could do it?”
“I don’t know. All I can say is that we no longer pose a threat to them so they no longer have any need to pursue us. Why blockade the river anyway? If they wanted to finish us, they had many opportunities to do so before we reached our galleasses, but they gave up the pursuit. The only major settlement south of us is Ravelin. We can’t go east, and west will take us further into the mountains where there’s no civilization at all. North is the only direction we can go.”
Duncan rubbed the jagged scar on his cheek and looked pensive. “Whoever put up that blockade wants us to think it was the grimals.” He snapped out of his reverie. “You all have your orders. Carry them out.”
Trustworthy or not, their captain had just issued a command. The Praetorians dispersed. Their ship weighed anchor and they lowered the lifeboats into the water. Blaine set about organizing their supplies and fetching stretchers for the wounded. She also gave instructions for the crews of all eight ships to join them.
In the meantime, Duncan retreated to his quarters, his thoughts still troubled. Someone wanted them to head north and it wasn’t the grimals.
Stay tuned for the next chapter…
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