Buy the full book at www.halcyonchronicles.com
The Praetorian
Part 2
After breakfast, Duncan received a summons from Marshal Corinn Wallace, who was traveling with the first platoon. Two privates detached a small lifeboat and rowed him over. He was escorted to the marshal’s cabin and ushered inside, where the battalion commander and the other three captains waited. They were seated around a map of the Ravelin region that lay three hundred and fifty kilometers south of the Palladum, the closest major Federate garrison.
Duncan saluted. “Sir.”
The marshal didn’t get up. “At ease, Captain. Have a seat. The next time you decide to wake up early, try to let the herald do her job. The entire unit was four minutes off schedule this morning.”
“I apologize. It was a peaceful morning and I didn’t want to disturb the tranquility. It won’t happen again, sir.”
Marshal Wallace eyed Duncan with annoyance, an expression that Duncan could see was shared by the other senior officers. Wallace had never been very good at hiding his feelings. He wasn’t a very attractive person and Duncan found his abrasive demeanor hard to get along with, though he had a reputation for being a vicious fighter.
“Captain Milius, I appreciate your concern for the tranquility of our environment, but this is a military venture, not a Teivan pleasure trip. If you’re looking to enjoy yourself then resign your commission and return to your father’s parliament.”
Duncan averted his gaze, humiliated. “Sorry, sir.” The barb about his Teivan background was unnecessary.
Wallace gestured to the map. “I want ideas on how to relieve the siege of Fort Ravelin.”
“What’s their supply situation?” asked Captain Blaine. Duncan studied her. Fair skinned with auburn hair, he had heard that her promotion was due more to a display of valor in battle than to any real expression of intellectual skill.
“When we left Valandov they still had three months of rations,” answered Wallace, “and they’d been siphoning water from a glacial stream which flows beside the fortress. They were well-stocked with ammunition for their ballistae and catapults, and they had plenty of arrows and bolts, though it’s impossible to speculate on the situation now.”
“We’ve been out of contact with them for weeks,” mentioned Captain Lecy. “There could be munitions shortages of every kind.” Duncan wasn’t sure about this captain — he hadn’t met or heard of her before this mission. She had blond hair and skin like Blaine’s, though Lecy was considerably more attractive. ‘She wears her armor well’: it was a saying he had heard during his cadet years that referred to the more desirable female proctors and cadets. The wisecrack infuriated them.
“Shortages may not be the only problem,” stated Blaine. “We don’t even know if there’s a fortress left to relieve.”
Captain Alren concurred. He was an exceedingly tall man with simple features and, from what Duncan could discern, an intellect to match. The chair he sat in was too small for him and he shifted uncomfortably.
“I think we have to assume the worst,” suggested Alren.
Wallace nodded. “Agreed, we have to proceed on the assumption that the fortress has been overrun by Hansic forces or is still under duress. In any event, we should expect no support from them at all.” The marshal glanced at each of his executive officers for approval. “Captain Milius, we haven’t heard from you. Have you something to add to our discussion, or should I fetch your senior lieutenant instead?”
There was no visible response to the insult from anyone, but Duncan felt Wallace’s sting. His foster-father was always warning him about receiving such treatment, and he was right. Duncan’s short career already featured more promotions and commendations than most Praetorians saw in a lifetime, but most of the officer corps still believed that he had something to prove. Except the Grand-General, he mused. He sees everything and judges honorably.
Duncan was by far the youngest person at the table right now and he knew the others resented it. He could see that they were awaiting his response. He decided not to take Wallace’s bait and dealt instead on the matter at hand. “The last message from the fortress mentioned that they were besieged by an unidentified force, so we’re assuming that the Hanse is involved. But there haven’t been open hostilities between the Hansic Alliance and the Federated States in years. Why pick a fight now?”
Wallace straightened himself up. “We’re not politicians. As far as we’re concerned, the motives of the two sides are irrelevant. Our job is to enforce the Commonwealth Treaty which both of these countries signed in good faith and have since renewed.”
“All the more reason to suspect a group other than the Hanse.”
“Who else has the resources or the manpower to assault a fortress like Ravelin?”
Duncan inhaled deeply. The others weren’t likely to accept his answer. “Grimals.”
Alren treated this remark disdainfully. “Excuse me?”
“I’ve dealt with grimms all my life. I spent my childhood living alongside them before I was… taken in by my foster-father. I even fought in skirmishes against them when I was in the Federate militia. Cutting off communication and supplies, starving the fort into submission: this is their pattern.”
“And I suppose you’re writing the book on grimm tactics,” jibed Alren.
Duncan pressed on. “The problem is that there aren’t any such books. If there were, they would say that this situation bears all the signs of a grimm attack. Expecting to meet Hansic troops makes no sense.”
“Why not?” challenged Lecy.
Wallace cut off any further debate. “Captain Milius is correct on one count. We can expect that the only route through the forest has been cut off. So, presumably, has the pass Ravelin guards into the Hansic Alliance.”
Duncan examined the map. It displayed the region around the fortress in a twenty-five kilometer radius. “These marks represent the Ravelin garrison’s patrol routes?”
“Yes, red corresponds to Federate troop movements and blue is for the Hansic patrols that we know about.”
Duncan studied it intently while the others discussed possible strategies. Their voices faded into the background as he focused his attention on the map.
“We should cut east and come around the fortress from its south flank with our backs to the mountain,” suggested Blaine.
“Send two companies out to break the blockade on the road to Ravelin while the others continue through the forest in flanking positions,” said Alren.
“We’re assuming that they’re blocking the road, but they may not be,” countered Lecy. “They could be entrenched in the forest anywhere along the route.”
“Our biggest problem is that we can’t know for certain where they’re positioned,” voiced Wallace. “Our most recent information is two weeks old — before any engagements took place between the two forces, assuming there were any. It seems most probable that they’re spread out around Ravelin in small groups to better avoid detection.”
The three captains nodded.
Duncan was still trapped in his reverie. Images from his militia days flooded his mind… and then he was back at his outpost near Gath. His regiment was stationed in a fort twenty kilometers north of the capital city. The fort had been placed there in advance of a new settlement that was to be built around it. A scout party was ambushed by a small group of grimals, and Duncan’s regiment was being dispatched to clear the immediate vicinity of enemy activity. He heard echoed shouts from officers as they barked orders to form offensive lines to drive the grimms out of human territory. He heard cries of pain as his comrades fell and recalled the adrenaline surge as his regiment tried to cut a swath through the defense. He remembered the shouts of success as the grimms kept falling back — it was almost as if they were trying to draw the humans away from something…
He returned to the present. “I know where they are,” blurted Duncan. The memory had been so vivid, he felt like he had actually traveled back fifteen years. He felt a bit dizzy, so he steadied himself against the table.
“What are you talking about?” sighed Alren.
“The grimals.”
Wallace’s eyes narrowed.
Duncan ran his fingers through his hair. “They’re just keeping enough of a presence to make us think they’ve surrounded Ravelin, but really they haven’t. There’s a pattern here. Look!” Duncan pointed out the markers indicating the patrol routes. “Both the Hansic and Federate troops avoided this border area northwest of Ravelin. It’s unexplored territory, and for a reason: that’s where the bulk of their forces are concentrated.”
“The phantom grimm army,” muttered Wallace.
Duncan ignored the quip and continued. As the conversation became more heated, his accent became more pronounced. The others shifted uneasily, uncomfortable with the reminder that one of their battalion’s senior officers was a Teivan. “We can send an expeditionary force along the road — at least a platoon, something large enough to make them think we’re serious — and divert their attention from our main strikes in the forest northwest of Ravelin.”
“And just what do you expect to find there?”
“I don’t know… a camp… a settlement…”
Wallace laughed. “I think you’re giving these creatures too much credit! They’re primitive, incapable of employing the strategies you’re ascribing to them. We’re fighting a more intelligent enemy, a human enemy, and our best bet is to flush them out. Captain Milius and Captain Blaine, your companies will take the road south to Ravelin.” He leaned over the map as he spoke. “The other units will begin a day in advance so they can assume flanking positions in the forest, here and here. Captain Alren’s company will take up a posture to our west and Captain Lecy on our east. You two will flush the Hansic troops north along the path towards the main force, where we’ll issue our ultimatum: return to the other side of the border or be wiped out. Brief your lieutenants and sergeants accordingly and prepare your troops. We’ll be disembarking before nightfall.”
* *
Within thirty minutes, the supplies were organized and the troops were ready. The Praetorians spent the rest of the morning in their platoons being briefed by their lieutenants. After lunch, Marshal Wallace made his rounds from one galleass to the next inspecting the soldiery. Following that, the Praetorians spent the remainder of the day chatting quietly, relaxing and concentrating on the next few days. They weren’t afraid of dying in battle — Praetorian training propagated what most people interpreted as a callous attitude towards death. To Praetorians, falling in combat was an honor. A Praetorian’s greatest concern wasn’t for one’s own life, but for the lives of others. No one wanted to be remembered with the dishonor of failing his or her own squad.
Duncan sat alone as he often did before entering combat, though his thoughts were not on the coming battle. He had been unable to convince Wallace of his tactical oversight when the marshal boarded the galleass on his inspection tour. A nagging sensation told him that they were headed for disaster. The problem was that he could find no fault with Wallace’s strategy. The marshal was making the most logical conclusions based on the available data. Duncan simply knew that his commander was wrong, but there was no way to convince him without corroborating data. He tried to reassure himself by pointing out that no Praetorian force had ever lost a battle in the entire history of the organization. Unfortunately, this did little to calm the instinct which told him that he was about to participate in the very first one.
He looked up and saw the eastern end of the Alpas Mountains looming before them. Two giant, jagged peaks: one right next to them on the north and one to the distant south, which was their destination. Ravelin lay at the foot of that one. Duncan sighed and stood up. The dock would soon be in sight. It was time to rally his troops.
*
Sergeant Terrel was chatting with two corporals when she heard a loud voice in her head.
Terrel.
She broke off the conversation and excused herself. She looked all around for the source of the voice, but she only saw soldiers sharpening their weapons and checking their gear.
I’ve hidden myself, Terrel. Speak telepathically, and for the Spirits’ sake, behave normally! You look like you’re about to break down!
Terrel composed herself. Sorry, I wasn’t expecting any contact. Chieftain, is that you?
It is. I’ve been watching your captain very carefully. He put on quite a show today in the strategy session.
You were there?
The Chieftain sounded proud of himself. I certainly was.
How did you get in? Surely, they didn’t invite you…
Oh, come on, he snapped, do you honestly think I asked permission? I was hidden, just like I am now. But don’t think I wasn’t tempted to reveal myself. It would’ve caused quite a stir. Now that would have been something to see.
The sergeant shook her head. They probably would’ve tried to kill you on the spot. Sometimes I wonder why they tolerate our presence at Valor’s Keep.
They don’t have a choice, really. They know that the Circle gets what it wants — better then to agree to our terms and keep us in plain sight where they can monitor our movements.
The Chieftain said this sarcastically, and Terrel laughed inwardly at the irony. What do you want me to do?
Watch Jehorom Galaddi carefully, but at a distance. Don’t draw too much attention to yourself. Let us know if he does anything unexpected.
Like what?
I’m not sure, you’ll know when you see it. Right now, it’s just a hunch, but I’ve had a feeling about this one for a long time. He may be the culmination of our work. I must return to the Enclave, so you’ll be on your own for now. Report everything directly to Phylar, no matter how insignificant.
I’ll do my best.
With that, the contact ended. Terrel stood there for a moment shaking off the echo of the Chieftain’s voice when Duncan called the troops to attention. The dock had been sighted. Alren’s and Lecy’s companies were disembarking and settling in for the night. Tomorrow, they would assume their flanking positions and begin the three-and-a-half-day trek to Ravelin. Twenty-four hours after that, the rest of the army would follow along the road. The battle would be joined soon enough.
Stay tuned for the next chapter…
Buy Harbinger’s End: Herald in print or ebook for maps, extra material and a preview of Harbinger’s End: The Time of Meeting.
