Andrei still held out hope they could somehow find the Erlonians.
His hawk guided him to the section of forest where the group had last been seen, a flat part of the forest where the trees thinned for a stretch.
Their prey had split up. Andrei had only ever seen a small group of soldiers. The half they’d chased had scattered and been impossible to follow for even the hawk. They would now be rendezvousing with the others to try and hide.
Andrei ordered his group to split up and scan the forest. His sakk would stay in the air. They would work all night if they had to, hoping the Erlonians made a mistake.
No scent was picked up. No sign of the horses was found. Any trail that existed led in circles. Andrei’s hawk saw no movement anywhere. Frustration grew in the pit of Andrei’s stomach.
Night had fully fallen when he found the waterfall and pond.
It was a peaceful scene. Babbling water in the moonlight. Andrei listened for any signs of life. Any signs that the Erlonian soldiers and the princess had been here.
None came.
The wolverines smelled nothing. Andrei led the group around the water and kept an eye on everything. Something about this place was sticking with him. Something he could feel but not explain.
No tracks appeared. But then they wouldn’t if their prey had used the streams here as a trail. No smells reached his wolverines. This area was just like the rest of the woods, silent and devoid of their quarry.
There were plenty more areas to search. He took one last glance at the waterfall on the far side of the pond and turned back to search the next area of forest.
Elisa
Elisa sat and listened for the sounds of Scythes outside their hiding place, but nothing could be heard over the falling water.
She helped Lodi redress some of the bandages of the soldiers. The sharpshooter with the sling had ripped his arm free during the chase and needed to be bandaged up again.
“Thank you, Lodi. Thank you, Princess,” the soldier said when they’d finished. He sounded tired but happy.
Elisa walked across the cave back to where she’d put her pack down. The space was quickly losing light. No fire or torches were allowed in case the Scythes passed close to the waterfall. Evening fell outside.
Elisa found Mon sitting against the wall near her pack. She decided to join him.
“It means a lot to the men to see you helping the injured.” Mon had his eyes closed and his head leaned back. He only cracked one eye when Elisa sat down next to him.
“I’m happy to help,” she said.
“It does more than you know.” Mon opened his eyes and leaned his head forward to look at the dirt between his legs. “Your father was good at that too. He made you think he was just another man in the army. He would speak with every soldier, all the way down to the cooks.”
Elisa didn’t know how to respond. The day had been a rush of danger and adrenaline with the flight away from the Scythes and now the emotions at the mention of her father threatened to overtake her tired thoughts.
“I’m not thinking about giving up anymore, Mon,” Elisa said. She spoke quickly and mainly in order to keep the tears for her father from breaking loose.
“Good.” Mon nodded.
“Erlon may be dying, the empire over. But as long as there are soldiers fighting, I will fight with them.” Elisa watched Mon’s silhouette in the dying light of the cave. “I’m not a general like my father. Or a sorceress like my mother. But I can still fight and lead and work for the people.”
Mon nodded and Elisa thought she saw his mouth twitch into a tiny smile in the dark. The old general didn’t respond and the pair grew quiet for a long time.
Elisa had many thoughts all at once. Memories from the last few weeks all blurred together. But even as they sat huddled in a damp cave and her enemies prowled with wolverines out in the forest beyond, Elisa felt a happiness.
She somehow felt a strong sense of hope.
“We’ll get out of here tomorrow,” Mon said. His voice broke the silence. The cave was almost fully dark now. “If we escape the Scythes and find the army, I’ll tell you my story.”
Mon’s head turned to look at Elisa. She could barely see his eyes in the darkness and couldn’t read his emotion. Elisa nodded to him.
“The full story, why I left your father and the army,” Mon said. “I think you’ve earned that much. You deserve to know why I didn’t tell you. Why I kept it inside.”
“Okay.”
The response sounded stupid after Elisa said it, but she didn’t know what else to say.
She was feeling too much.
Fear. Uncertainty. Fatigue. Soreness from the long days of riding.
But also hope.
Elisa had confidence in the soldiers around her. She had confidence in Mon and Lauriston to lead them to safety. And she knew they had confidence in her to stay with them and help Erlon continue fighting.
That was good enough for now.
She didn’t need to know the reason why Mon left the army. She could trust that he was a great warrior.
If Mon told her the story, that was his choice. For now, Elisa would focus on helping to lead the men to safety and finding the rest of the army. That was all that was needed from her at the moment.
* * *
In the morning, they packed up in silence. They brought the horses out of the back of the cave and walked out into the sunlight.
Elisa half expected to see the entire Scythe unit waiting for them with weapons drawn, but the forest was clear and quiet.
Lauriston didn’t need to order the men to make ready. They mounted up and the marshal led them off into the trees.
Elisa still felt afraid and knew they were still being chased. But her strong sense of hope had stayed with her through the night.
Whatever this day brought, Elisa would face it with her friends and protectors. They would keep fighting on for Erlon.
Onward.
That was the cheer of her father’s army. They would keep pushing onward.
If the hawk spotted them again or if the wolverines picked up their scent, they would have to run again or stand and fight. Whatever happened, Elisa was ready.
The group left the watering hole with the hidden cave and moved back into the forest. Elisa took one final glance back behind her and saw the water falling from the rocks and the ripples through the pond under the tall trees.
Andrei
Andrei watched from a tree above the pond as the group of horses passed below him.
He’d been right. He’d known there was something about the pond and the waterfall. The stiffness from sitting on a limb all night was going to pay off.
He counted the soldiers and watched the last horse slip out of his view and waited while counting his breaths. When he was sure the group was gone, he descended the tree and took off west through the forest at a jog. He had some good news to tell the rest of the Scythes.
Chapter 23
Attack where the enemy least expects it and victory will appear.
The Ascended One’s Maxims
Verse Fifteen
Rapp
The day was finally here. King Rapp walked along his lines and inspected his men. The soldiers were ready to fight and die for their king and avenge the death of his father.
They were ready for war.
“Bring the latest report up from the pickets.” Rapp stared out over the field before him. The aides scrambled away to follow his order.
He watched the mist rise up from the trees beyond the field and disappear into the morning air like smoke from a funeral pyre. His army sprawled all around him in black lines and their shadowy forms in the fog made them look like statues carved from stone.
His warriors were very much alive. They would fight for him today. They would be brave and strong, as if they were mightier than the Ascended One’s host. They would charge against the Kurakin Horde lines and break the enemy.
This would be a glorious first day of R
app’s first campaign as king. This was only the initial battle in many more victories to come for Wahring’s new king. But the first was always the most important.
“No sign of the Kurakin yet, Your Majesty.”
Rapp turned away from his battlefield and to the aide behind him. “Nothing from the pickets?”
“Nothing, sir.”
Strange.
He’d assumed the Kurakin would attack. They were historically the aggressors while at war. They had marched north to attack the Vitha Valley back when they were allied to the Coalition and they’d always been the aggressors in the Lakmian mountains.
“They’re the invaders here.” Rapp turned back to the south and the open fields before his army. “They’ll attack soon.”
King Rapp could be patient for an hour or two more. He’d waited a long time to fight a war for Wahring. He could force himself to wait a little while longer.
General Neipperg returned from the western flank at midmorning and reported to his king. The mist had fully dissipated and the land continued to stand open and clear before the Wahrian lines.
“Cavalry scouts have the Kurakin just through the trees.” Neipperg started talking before his horse came to a full stop next to Rapp. “They’re concentrated in the center.”
Rapp’s mind worked through the information as he yanked on the reins to keep his own horse steady next to Neipperg’s. The general scratched at his eye-patch and waited for his king to reply.
“We should attack. We should press them.”
Neipperg’s face betrayed no reaction. His one eye stayed locked on his king. “If Your Highness commands it.”
The plan fully formed in Rapp’s mind all at once. It was as if the Ascended One had sent him an image of how the battle would play out, of how the battle would be won.
The Wahrians could use the forest to mask their approach. Neipperg’s division in the west could sweep around and hit the enemy from the flank. They would push the Kurakin back against the river and crush them.
This history books would call this King Rapp’s day.
Neipperg looked down quickly and his eye moved side to side in thought. He looked back up at Rapp.
“Your Majesty,” Neipperg said, but Rapp help up a hand to show he was thinking.
“You swing around and press them from the west. Our main column will use the trees as cover and rush them in the center. We’ll shift the artillery up between us.”
Yes, this was a good plan. Rapp could see all of it like it was laid out on a map table with detailed markers showing each of the sides. It would be perfect.
Neipperg cleared his throat. “They may want us to be aggressive, Your Majesty.”
Rapp looked over at Neipperg. The general’s one eye stared back at him with concern shining behind it. Rapp was surprised to see Neipperg was serious about his critique of the plan.
Was he afraid to attack? Did he think the Wahrian regiments not up to the task of fighting the Horde?
There weren’t any mammoth units here. No Scythes either, if the scouts were to be believed. Only normal Kurakin units.
What was Neipperg afraid of?
Maybe he wasn’t as strong of a general as Rapp believed.
The king waved a hand to push away Neipperg’s concerns. “We’ll crush them. Draft the orders. I want us moving by midday.”
Neipperg hesitated. Rapp almost yelled at him for even thinking about arguing with a king, but the general recovered quickly enough.
“Yes, sir. You’ll have the orders to review within the hour.”
“Thank you.”
Neipperg rode off and Rapp’s horse shifted underneath him. He yanked on the reins again and held the mount facing south. The bright sun beat down on his men and gleamed off the rows of musket barrels pointed at the sky.
It was a fighting day.
Before the sun would reach its apex, his army would be on the move. Rapp wished he could lead the charge himself and feel the pulse of the battle from the very front of the lines.
But he was king. His life was too important to risk being on the front lines.
Rapp would watch the fight unfold from behind and adjust as needed. If the Kurakin general opposite him tried something to stem his attack, King Rapp would adjust.
Only a few more hours, King Rapp told himself, and then he would be basking in victory as his army chased the fleeing Kurakin south.
Leberecht
Leberecht hadn’t trained as an officer in an army. He’d barely studied military history at all. He knew next to nothing about battle tactics or campaign strategy.
And yet he was about to win a battle over one of the great powers of the Continent. He was about to defeat a king.
Leberecht’s carriage bounced down the road as he flipped through the pages of letters and orders and formal documents laid out on the seat opposite him. It was difficult communicating with the Kurakin through letters. Most of the generals could at least speak the northern tongue, but only Mikhail and a handful of others could write it.
Despite this significant issue, Leberecht was confident his side of the war would win the day.
The Kurakin were cunning strategists. They knew warfare backwards and forwards, far better than any northern commander Leberecht had seen. He chuckled to himself at the irony.
The northern factions worshiped a war god that preached about winning glory through battle. Yet these barbarians from the far south were better organized, better trained, and led by better men than any of them, especially Leberecht’s birth country.
The only northern leader who could stand up to the Kurakin would’ve been Emperor Lannes of Erlon. But even he had been defeated on the ice fields. There would be no stopping the Kurakin now.
Leberecht picked up a page and read through the army’s orders once again. Mikhail had transcribed the message from the original Kurakin scrawl into lines of neat cursive.
A portion of the Kurakin were amassing directly in front of the Wahrian lines. More were sweeping east along the river and the Moradans were marching into position as well on the northern side of the Vitha.
Leberecht didn’t need a campaign map to see what was about to happen. King Rapp would be confident. If there was one thing Leberecht understood about the boy, it was his hubris.
He understood a great deal more about the new king, of course. Leberecht’s intelligence had run circles around the Wahrian royals for years now and it was finally time for action. Though the thing that would lead to the family’s downfall most directly was their king’s hubris.
Maybe everyone would be overconfident and rash if they were born into royalty on top of a plateau above a capital and told they ruled by divine right. But the Franz Dynasty of Wahring seemed especially susceptible to overconfidence and arrogance. Charles had been incompetent and somehow still arrogant. Rapp was at least a little stronger, but was still blind to the changing world around him.
That was all about to end, though. Leberecht was here to alter the course of the Continent, change the way the common man viewed the royals across factions. The Wahrians and the Brunians and the royalists still in Morada were all about to be overthrown.
A knock on the window of the carriage brought Leberecht out of his scheming.
“Yes?” Leberecht pulled the curtain aside and found one of his aides trotting alongside him on horseback.
“We’re close to the Moradan column, sir.”
“Good, let me know when we hear from their general.”
“Yes, sir.”
Leberecht shifted his hand and was about to let the curtain fall back over the window before the aide spoke again.
“And sir?”
Leberecht raised his eyebrows to tell the aide he was listening.
“We’ve heard cannon fire in the west. Sounds like the battle has started.”
Leberecht smiled. He felt the minuscule twang of pain in his right cheek and reveled in it. The battle had started, it was finally time for King Rapp to meet his fate.
“Then we better hurry and reach the lines. Tell our men to double time. And find me the Moradan commander.”
“Yes, sir.”
Leberecht let the curtain fall back and his carriage interior returned to shadow.
The Wahrians would lose the war today. Leberecht would take control and be one step closer from overthrowing the power structure of the Continent altogether. There was no stopping him. It was time for victory.
Rapp
Cannons rumbled on the right flank. Rapp’s horse pounded up the road with his aides close behind. The shadows of soldiers moved through the trees all around them. Rapp’s first great victory had begun.
Rapp reined up at a ridge that peaked over the final part of the woods. He saw the Kurakin lines for the first time. They were smaller than he imagined. It was only a few rows of black-clad troops along a ridgeline opposite the Wahrian lines.
The rest must have already broken, or they were pressing Neipperg in the west. That could be the only explanation, Rapp thought to himself.
Another cannon volley erupted from the east and Rapp watched as the ground under a portion of the Kurakin exploded upwards and the line of that unit broke apart. The Horde was already fleeing. Already caught off guard by Rapp’s decision to concentrate artillery from his right flank.
The king smiled to himself as his aides grouped behind his horse. This was a good day. This was a glorious day.
“Sir, a message from Neipperg.” One of the aides nudged his horse forward and bowed his head at Rapp. “He’s turned their western side, says they’re breaking.”
Rapp nodded. Of course they’re breaking, they’re facing the Wahrian royal army today.
The Kurakin were not an unbeatable foe at all. The legends about their race being the descendants from demons would be disproved with this war. All the nightmares of northern children would be proved false by the new King of the Wahrian Realm.
The Fall of Erlon Page 26
