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From Across the Clouded Range

Page 94

by H. Nathan Wilcox

The procession of men across the valley seemed as if it would never end, column after column appeared at the crest of the hill to the west, marched through the valley, and disappeared over the next rise in the east as if on a loop. From the position of the sun, Dasen had been watching the invaders pass for nearly an hour, every unit the same, five thousand men with no variation in their dress, formations, or weapons. If not for the strangeness of the dress, formations, and weapons, he would have been lulled to sleep by now.

  “How many you think there will be?” he whispered to Teth at his side. He looked at her through the few stalks of grass that separated their faces. It surrounded them where they lay at the crest of the hill, tall and thick, shielded them from the view of the men below, and bent to form an arched roof over them.

  She thought a moment then licked her lips. “I think they’re almost done. See, there are wagons cresting the hill. I think that will be their supply train. Usually, it’s that, a rear guard, and that’s it. I’m guessing six thousand all told.”

  “That’s one of the biggest units we’ve seen.”

  “And the strangest. Look at their hair. It’s pure white.”

  “Not as strange as the guys who sang and danced rather than marching. The ones with all the drums.”

  “Yeah, but I liked them. These are just spooky. The way they march, all tall strides and perfect cadence, it’s just not right, like an army of ghosts or something.”

  Dasen considered that. The men below did resemble ghost. They wore ash-gray pants and shirts that accented their snow-white skin and flowing, nearly translucent, hair. But the similarity ended there. They wore planks of polished wood as armor and carried large packs. Most of them carried tall spears with narrow points that caught the sun six feet above their heads. The exceptions were the men in every third row, who carried tall shields of bronze-coated wood on their backs and small crossbows at their belts. As Teth had said, they marched with high strides that were perfectly matched to the cadence supplied by drummers at the front of each company. Flanking each drummer were flag bearers who carried square banners depicting a stork flying over a golden sun.

  “They are spooky,” Dasen finally agreed, “but more because of the discipline. I mean who marches like that through the middle of a nowhere? Who do they think they’re impressing?”

  “You mean the Kingdoms’ soldiers don’t march in perfect unison? I’m shocked. But they’re so well trained and disciplined.”

  Dasen rolled his eyes at the sarcasm. Ever since they unified, the Kingdoms had been aggressively peaceful. Ironically, the Kingdoms’ unifier and first Chancellor, Alden Kavich, had fought and won the wars to unify the kingdoms because his oldest son had been killed in a skirmish with a rival kingdom. In his sorrow, he had pledged to bring peace to the kingdoms so no more sons would be lost to war. Once he had allied with or defeated all the dukes, he abolished the original kingdoms, divided the land into the current districts, established a system by which land owners elected their leaders, and dismantled most of the military forces. Ever since, the army of the Kingdoms had remained small, used primarily to patrol the roads, keep the Sylians from raiding the border, and generally keep the peace.

  “The soldiers might not be much of a threat,” Dasen replied, “but I don’t begrudge any army trying to capture Thoren. Unless you have boats to attack from the river, you’d be fighting house to house through the outer rings just to get to the main wall.”

  “Thank you General Ronigan. Do you have any orders for your grasshopper army before you prepare the city’s defenses?” Teth made a mock salute where she lay. Dasen stuck his tongue out at her. “I dare you to come over here and do that,” Teth chided in response. Dasen was only too happy to oblige.

  When they managed to pull themselves apart, they recovered the distance they had slid down from the crest of the hill just in time to see the last of the “phantom legion,” as Teth decided to call them, disappear to the east. After a few more minutes without further signs of activity, they retreated a short way down the back of the hill and lay out of the sun under a small ridge. Though it was still early, the day was going to be hot, and they were both thankful for the shade. They drank the last remnants of water from a topless bottle they had found lying beside a roadside well the previous night. With Thoren still a night’s walk away, they were going to get very thirsty, and that was assuming they found a way to sneak into the likely besieged city. They had finished the last of their food the night before, so with stomachs rumbling, they lay close together in the shade and fell asleep.

 

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