Crusher folded his tall body into his padded chair and put his hands behind his head, a smile spreading across his face. “Those untried weapons make six Novices look like five times that many Sorcerers, and they don't run out of Power as fast. This is the perfect opportunity to test my weapon. The source is there for the taking, and the honor and glory in doing so belongs to us."
"Sir, if your weapon fails for any reason, you will have lost whoever those fifteen robes are being made for, as well as the Sorcerer Guards. Even if your weapon works perfectly, it is more likely than not that those six Novices will fail. These are also untried kids. The Power only knows how many will die from grid burnout!” Looking down at Crusher, with that smirk on his face, Aetria wanted to throttle him—assuming Nemos didn't get to her before she could.
Using the same tone on her that she had on him, Crusher said, “I know these Novices, Sub-Commander. I have been training them for over a week. The amount of Power needed to initiate the weapon is hardly more than the Power required for the hand torches the Novices make for you every night. There is no risk here, Sorceress."
Aetria remained unconvinced. Her expression or posture must have relayed that to Crusher, as he stopped trying to change her mind. “Look, Aetria, I appreciate your concern for our welfare, but we are in the army, and the army takes advantage of every chance it can to take that fight to the enemy."
Crusher reached out his hand, beckoning for the map Nemos held. He unrolled it on the table in front of him, weighing down the corners with eating implements. Nemos used his knife as a pointer as he explained.
"This is a map of the encampment and the terrain around it. They are here in a clearing among dense brush. To their northeast and southeast are these hills. Not very tall, maybe fifty feet, but you can see their encampment very clearly from both of them. The brush is everywhere, really thick, but at most chest high, except on the tops of the hills where there are small clearings. Here to the east is where the brush ends and the forest takes over."
Drawing a line with his finger from the trees to the hills, Crusher asked, “How far is this?"
Nemos closed his eyes, the better to remember the scene he had scouted a day before. Opening them, he said, “The distance from the trees to the hills is maybe a hundred yards. From the hills to the edge of the encampment clearing, maybe twenty yards. The camp sits in a square open field about a hundred and fifty yards on a side. Must have been a small farm once. Remains of a house, here, on the western side of the square. A creek runs north and south behind the house. The road they were traveling up is on the other side of the creek from the house. They have left their wagons on the road.
"It appears they had been there for a week or more before we showed up, and it doesn't look like they are moving any time soon. They may be waiting for another caravan to join up with them. They have sentries up the road to the north at two to three times the normal distance of their other sentries."
"And the source—where is it?” Crusher asked, staring at the map.
"I think in the house. That is where the sorcerers go every evening. They covered the roof with a tent, so I could not see into the house. These tents here next to the house are the sorcerers. The troop tents are these to the north, east, and south of the house."
"What is your assessment of their security force?” Crusher asked the Lieutenant, still staring at the map. “Alert or not? Veteran or recruits?"
"They have no cavalry; only the officers are mounted. From the foot patrol activity we saw, they look professional but relaxed. Their sentries are alert and are frequently changed to keep them from becoming bored. The soldiers spend a lot of their time taking care of their equipment and resting. About half of them have uniforms and weapons that look very new, so overall I'd say they are fresh troops run by veterans. Having that many new people makes me think these are two infantry companies that have been in a battle recently, were beat up, and have been refitted and rewarded with this guard detail."
Aetria had seen Crusher stare intensely at a map before. It wasn't a fascination with the map; he was making a plan in his mind. He was definitely going to make an attack on that encampment.
Crusher looked up at Nemos. “So, if we take out the leaders, the troops might break and run if we hit them hard enough. Do we agree, Lieutenant?"
"That is a possibility, Sir."
Crusher pointed at the northernmost hill with his finger. “I will position three Aggressor Novices and myself here. On this southern hill, the three other Aggressors will be with Lieutenant Nemos. We will attack the camp with fireballs, going after the officers first. Sorceress Aetria will position herself and the Illusionists here on the eastern edge of the clearing, between the two hills. Novice Recanlin will go with them and attack the eastern tents with fireballs.
"The Illusionists will magnify the effects of his fireballs and also magically increase the apparent numbers of the mounted Guard Platoon led by Sergeant Maneles as they charge in from Aetria's position."
Crusher pointed to the house. “Your guard's objective, Lieutenant, is to get to the house, take the source, and come back out the way they entered. We will cover you. As they try to form up, we will continue to take out their leaders. Eventually they will lose heart and run. Simple, but effective. What do you think, Aetria?"
She studied the map for a moment, pretending to be thinking over the plan, but really to keep from saying what a bad idea it all was. It was a simple plan, but executing it was going to be difficult because Crusher had placed his leadership all wrong. If she couldn't stop it, she could at least make it executable.
"As I have said, the Aggressor Novices need all the leadership they can take. Splitting them up leaves half without sorcerer supervision. I suggest you keep all but two of them on the northern hill. This serves two purposes; the first is that you can more closely watch them and prevent burnouts, and the second is you can direct their fire more effectively.
"If Lieutenant Nemos and you are directing fire from separate hills, you risk attacking the same targets. Also, Lieutenant Nemos needs to be with his men as they charge. Once they reach the tent line, they will be out of our sight. If the plan goes awry, Lieutenant Nemos can salvage something out of it if he is there to evaluate the situation. Recanlin, plus another Aggressor, the Illusionists, and I will take the southern hill. With two Illusionists working with the Aggressors, they can throw minimal fireballs at a higher rate of fire and still look like an impressive force.
"Our fireballs will be mixed in with yours, so it will be hard not to believe they're the real things. The remaining Illusionists will spell support Lieutenant Nemos and his men. From the hill, they will be able to support the Guard all the way in because they will be able to see them the whole time."
The expression on Nemos’ face showed how much he preferred her plan to Crusher's. He did not want to be left out of the fight. Crusher's expression was not so positive, but he was nodding ever so slowly.
"I agree, except you may only have Recanlin. Your point about directing fire is well taken and obviates splitting the firepower. Now, we will take our transport as far as we can go before going afoot. Lieutenant, about how far will we have to march to get there?"
"The forest line on our side starts about four hours from here. To get through the trees will take another six. When do we make our attack, Sir?"
"That depends on how well you can guide us through the trees. Can you do that at night?"
Aetria knew that answer before Nemos said it.
"The Sorcerer Guard live for the night, Sir,” the lieutenant proudly stated.
"Then we attack at dawn. Our return path will be the same as our entry. We must be very quick to leave the scene once we have the source. The sorcerers will be on foot, so the mounted Guard must delay any pursuit, then follow on horseback. We will break camp at dawn tomorrow. I will hold a briefing before we start our march in. If you think of any other details, I will be here firming up the plan. Good night."
The lieutenant quic
kly marched out the door. Aetria remained standing in front of Crusher. He looked up at her. “Something else on your mind, Sorceress?"
"I know this is none of my business, but why was Novice Recanlin rejected from your new weapon's training? The young man is thoroughly discouraged and unhappy."
Looking back down at the map, Crusher started making notes on the margin. Aetria wondered how long she would have to stand there before he answered. Without looking up, Crusher said, “You are right, it is none of your business. But since he is now assigned to you, you inherit the problem. The young man is unmotivated, passive, and unreliable. His attention span is short, and he lacks the killing spirit. I cannot have such a person controlling my weapon. When we reach the regiment, he will be assigned to special training to get him motivated to follow his profession. Until then, he is yours to do with as you see fit. You are dismissed."
Aetria walked stiffly through the door, thinking he had been unusually civil with her, and she should be happy. She wasn't.
CHAPTER 5
Walking stooped over, Aetria used the cover of the chest-high brush to move her squad of Novices up the small hill. She was unconcerned about discovery by Hermanian guards, as Lieutenant Nemos and his men had already taken them out. She had been very impressed with the speed and skill she had seen displayed by their Guard, moving through the Hermanian guard pickets with fluid ease, leaving death in their wake.
Nearing the crest of the hill, she hitched up both sets of robes she was wearing—the dark gray Hermanian robe over her red Sorceress robe—and dropped to her knees, crawling out of the brush toward the summit, keeping as low as she could. She was soon able to see over the hill and spotted the Hermanian camp ahead and off to her right. Crusher and his Aggressors should be in position on the small hill to her immediate right. She could see the hill, but not them. Assuming they were there, Crusher's plan was now in place. Their two Sorcerer groups now flanked the Hermanian camp. The Guard assault force, mounted on horses in the trees behind and to her right, was poised for a frontal assault.
Aetria did a quick visual check of the camp below her. The sun was still down behind the trees to her back but was reflecting its light into the camp, making the clearing visible. Troops were moving about slowly, most gathering around the kitchen tents to get their ration of the morning meal. The ground beneath her was cold from the chill of the night, and she looked down at the plethora of tiny wild flowers that covered the hill.
What a shame! Here I am in such a beautiful spot on a gorgeous day to kill people I don't even know or understand why.
Her stomach growled a little from the fragrant smells wafting from the Hermanian cook-fires. She turned and motioned Recanlin to join her.
After he had crawled up beside her, she spoke to him in a low voice. “Now, remember, keep your fireballs small and spell them at about one per thirty seconds. We are a diversion, not the main assault. Jalista and I will duplicate you to make us look like a larger force, but this will only work initially because of its shock value. After a few moments, the Hermanians will notice all the Aggressors in our group move and spell together. We will also enhance your fireball's effects, but unfortunately, we can only make it look worse than it actually is."
The excitement in his eyes was evident. Recanlin was keyed up, ready for his first fight. “Mere puffs of flame. I understand, Sorceress."
"Fine, now take some slow, deep breaths and calm down. You must exercise a lot of control, Novice. Don't lose control and burn out. It is fatal for Aggressors!"
"Yes, Ma'am. Please stop fretting, Sub-Commander. I won't let the company down."
"Fretting? I am speaking from experience, Recanlin. You may be well taught, but I am sure your teachers have never stood on the battle line and faced the rush of emotions you are about to feel. You know how to control—just don't forget it in the heat of battle."
Movement on the hill to her right drew her attention away from Recanlin. Crusher and his Aggressors, also dressed in Hermanian robes, had stood up. He raised his staff in the signal for attack. Aetria sprang to her feet and ordered the Illusionist to her side. Recanlin stood slowly, dropping into concentration in preparation for casting.
"It begins now, Novices. For the Order and the king!"
* * * *
The guard silently rode out of the trees and moved as quickly as they could force their horses through the brush toward the camp. Tracilus and the other three Illusionists supporting them doubled their numbers. When the Guard's line broke out of the brush, they spurred their horses into a charge, raising a chilling war cry. The Hermanian troops sitting around the morning cook fires jumped up, dropped their plates, and rushed to grab their spears stacked nearby.
Crusher pointed his staff at the milling mass of soldiers, and the Aggressors followed his direction. The fireballs that shot forth from their staffs slammed into the men and dozens fell screaming to the ground, their bodies aflame from the intense heat of the fireballs.
Aetria was shocked by the destruction. She now knew why Recanlin was so horrified by the mysterious staffs. The Hermanian troops wavered, many falling back in fear. Recanlin's first fireball shot forth toward their right flank, and Aetria lost track of the battle for a few moments as she directed an enhancement spell. His fireball exploded amongst the panicking men, killing no one but adding greatly to the confusion of the battle. The Hermanian officers frantically urged their troops into formation, and it cost the officers their lives when Crusher's fireball fell upon them. Lieutenant Nemos’ platoon was halfway across the clearing when the second company of Hermanians rushed onto the scene. With their fellow troopers at their backs, the first company gained courage and surged back toward the oncoming Guards.
Aetria ordered Recanlin to slow down his firing rate. He was sweating profusely, and his eyes were shockingly wide open. Whether it was from fear or horror of his actions, or excitement she didn't know. She returned her attention to the battle. In her direct vision she saw a platoon of Hermanians, apparently part of their rear reserve troops, rush towards their hill.
"That's it,” she yelled to her troops. She ordered Tracilus and his Illusionists to cast their final spell—creating an imaginary Guard platoon that stood up from the brush at the base of their hill and charged at the oncoming reserve. When they had done so, she told him to retreat down the hill and withdraw to the assembly area.
Aetria looked back at the real Guard as they closed on the Hermanians, and from the corner of her eyes, she caught the brilliant flash of an explosion amongst the Aggressors. Three more explosions quickly followed, and the Aggressors holding the exploding staffs were vaporized. In a blink of an eye, four Aggressor Novices had died horribly. The remaining two were slowly picking themselves up, badly shaken by the nearby blasts. Crusher hand waved them to retreat behind him. He signaled to his bugler to sound recall, ordering Lieutenant Nemos to break off the attack.
The Hermanians sensed victory. They mounted a countercharge after the retreating guard. Crusher spelled a huge fireball, nearly depleting his Adept level Power. It met the main body of the Hermanians and they gave up pursuit, no longer sure of what they were facing.
Appalled by the turn of events, Aetria suddenly became conscious of Novice Recanlin's warning shout. She turned quickly to find the Hermanian reserve, encouraged by the reversals of the battle, charging up the hill towards them. The imaginary Guard had had no effect on them at all. She shouted for him to flee and started a thick smoke spell in her mind to cover their retreat. Before she could deliver it, a huge fireball exploded amongst the reserve, halting their charge. She lost her spell thought and turned in horror to look at the source of the blast—Recanlin, now lying flat on his back.
Aetria rushed over to Recanlin, her heart sinking with the image her eyes were feeding her mind. She knelt next to the fallen Novice and felt gently for a pulse she knew was not there. Recanlin's forehead was gone. The back-blast of the grid burnout had exploded in his mind and exited in the direction his fi
reball had been sent.
"Oh, Recanlin, how foolish and brave."
Behind her, the hiss of a sword being drawn from its scabbard made her turn quickly. Lieutenant Nemos stood several paces away, his eyes fixed on her. He beckoned with the sword, motioning her to move towards him. As she stood to comply, she was startled by a cry from behind her.
"Coleni, brachda dias!"
She dove to her right, and dropped with a roll, jumping to her feet. The dagger blurred from her hand.
The crash of a lightning bolt roaring past her almost spoiled her aim, but the deadly missile slammed into the chest of the Hermanian Novice Aggressor, killing him instantly. Aetria whirled to look at Nemos, shocked to see the man down on his knees, his head lowered to the ground. His attempt to jump clear of the bolt had not completely succeeded. She rushed to him.
"Can you walk, Lieutenant? The Hermanian reserve is attacking."
Nemos shook his head, trying to clear his mind. He looked up at Aetria and swept her feet out from under her with a kick. She crashed to the ground in front of him. He picked up his sword, and stood up. “Kill you!"
Aetria gasped out, “No! Nemos, it's me, Aetria!"
The Guard Commander stepped over her and raised his sword. Aetria watched in disbelief. How stupid for Crusher to insist they wear Hermanian robes! Was she to die, mistaken for a Hermanian sorcerer?
"Kill you!” he croaked and stabbed downward. She rolled to her left, barely evading the sword's point that rammed into the dirt beside her. As he jerked the sword back, preparing to swing at her instead of stabbing, she heard the hiss of an arrow fly past her head and watched it blossom from Nemos’ throat. As she rolled more to her left, down the hill, she caught glimpses of a score more shafts bouncing off his leather armor, but many burying themselves in his exposed flesh. As he turned to face the Hermanian squad of soldiers rushing him, he looked like a practice target doll, festooned with arrows. He staggered towards the soldiers. Aetria turned and fled into the brush.
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