Return to the Homeland (5)
The legion that departed Lance hurried along the road. Under the blazing sun, they marched silently onward.
A legion like ours can cover at most forty kilometers in a day. At this pace, it would take three days to reach Sian, and ten to Belgorod. Who knows when the enemy might catch our tail in that time.
Heigirt was no fool.
He might have briefly mistaken our intentions upon hearing of the Belanga raid followed by the mass landing of Briton legions—thinking we were trying to lure him into a decisive battle—but he wouldn't stay fooled for long.
Once he confirmed Ronad's disaster, he'd come charging after us with his full host.
A man like him wouldn't fail to realize that the army Ronad had clashed with was those rumored "Briton legions."
The problem was, we had no way to shake off the pursuit even knowing it was coming. No matter how fast infantry marched, they were far slower than cavalry. Cavalry could cover in a day what took infantry three.
We could send messengers to Belgorod and the surrounding imperial forces requesting a rendezvous, but that would be madness.
If we got caught and crushed, only for those reinforcements to arrive piecemeal and get picked off one by one, it would be as good as handing the empire to Heigirt on a platter.
But we can't abandon the highway either.
Straying from the road might evade Heigirt's eyes for a time, but a large army couldn't evade cavalry indefinitely. Worse, we'd be slogging through trackless terrain, ripe for a sudden ambush and annihilation.
I need some other clever stratagem.
Mounted on my horse, I sank into thought. I'd steeled myself for risks like this before crossing to the continent, but the unexpected clash with Ronad had thrown a wrench into things.
Had the battle unfolded farther east, Heigirt might have hesitated to pursue even after learning of it. But because we'd fought sooner than anticipated, we now had to factor in his chase.
As I pondered, Rikius rode up with his report.
"Rear reconnaissance complete up to twenty kilometers. No sign of the enemy."
"Good work."
"Yes, sir."
Rikius bowed his head, and for a moment, the sunlight blocked by his helmet stabbed into my eyes.
Wait.
Seeing that shaded light sparked an idea. I turned my head.
Sunlight vanishes when blocked by trees. If the legion moves where he least expects it, it won't enter his sights. How would he even track us?
I mulled it over intently.
Then I uttered a word I never would have considered before.
"That's it! We'll cross the Ardiya Mountains."
"Pardon? What do you mean, sir?"
Rikius looked flustered.
"We'll go over the Ardiya Mountains."
"But..."
Rikius's mouth fell open slightly.
The Ardiya Mountains.
What kind of place was that?
A realm of eternal snows that never melted, sheer cliffs and treacherous slopes that barely qualified as paths, crisscrossing without mercy. And the inhabitants? Fierce bandits, from savage raiders who'd seized the land amid the empire's weakness to tax-dodging outlaws turned mountain folk—every manner of criminal infested it.
And the weather? Morning sun scorching bright, afternoon storms of rain and lightning and fog, sometimes blizzards dumping down. The worst possible terrain for military operations.
Small wonder that in centuries, only two large armies had ever crossed Ardiya: Barka, who invaded the imperial heartland, and Heigirt. No other commander had even contemplated it.
"Why? You think it's impossible?"
"Sir, Ardiya is treacherous ground. Crossing it would mean..."
"It's dangerous. Extremely so. But Heigirt's barbarians managed it. No reason we can't."
"Sir, the men might panic."
Battle was one thing; crossing Ardiya would terrify soldiers and officers alike.
But I'd already made up my mind.
"Maybe. But it's surer than fretting over Heigirt on our heels."
I clapped Rikius on the shoulder.
"You'll trust me, right?"
I pressed him firmly, and he nodded.
"Of course. I trust you, sir."
"Good enough. If you trust me, the men will too."
I sent Rikius to summon the commanders, starting with Cogol.
Decision made, I had to brief them on the plan.
Fortunately, no one objected. Even the inscrutable Usifer went along with it. Better to try the mountains once than risk annihilation under Heigirt's boot, they all agreed.
Heigirt's precedent helped seal it.
If he could lead his loosely organized barbarians across, we regulars would lose face failing where he succeeded.
The officers' prideful grumbling spread the sentiment; the men fell in line without much fuss.
We promptly veered south toward the Ardiya Mountains, dispatching messengers to Belgorod ordering mainland reinforcements.
The first day south was uneventful, thanks to imperial golden-age roads extending to the foothills. But as we neared the borderlands, the pavement crumbled, then vanished entirely.
Barbarians who despised imperial civilization had obliterated the highways.
I ordered all wagons and excess baggage abandoned—the carts we'd scavenged along the march included. Soldiers carried only four days' rations, minimal water, spare cold-weather gear, and essentials.
Even that was no light load for the mountains.
"Ha, so this is the empire's mountains."
Erenia, seeing them for the first time, seemed almost excited—curious eyes wide, more wonder than fear.
A tribeswoman who'd known only seas her whole life; no surprise rugged peaks thrilled her.
"First time seeing mountains?"
"Nothing this big. Dense forests, sure. You seem used to them?"
I shook my head at her question.
"Ardiya's a first for me too. Spent my service on the frontier woods."
"So how'd you think to cross here?"
"Desperation breeds ingenuity. Improvisation."
She smiled faintly.
Ardiya's foothills were thick forest. Narrow paths between the trees marked it as traveled ground.
Krrraaang!
Beasts roared from the depths now and then, wary of our passage. None mad enough to charge our numbers.
So far, so good.
I relaxed, figuring the high passes would be manageable. But this was Ardiya. Complacency wasn't allowed.
Whick. Whirr.
Arrows whistled into our column out of nowhere. A few vanguard soldiers crumpled.
"Ambush!"
Several centurions bellowed, drawing swords.
I watched as our men plunged into the woods after the attackers. Ten minutes later, they returned empty-handed, dejected.
Mountain folk.
Facing the savage raiders I'd only heard of left me incredulous. We weren't wanderers; we were a proper army. And they dared shoot at us?
But it wasn't mindless savagery.
Crossers of Ardiya—army or lone traveler—had limited supplies and hurried. Kill us, claim our gear: simple math.
I saw through their game but had no counter.
Constant vigilance would exhaust the men before the heights.
We endured half a dozen such strikes in the woods, losing a handful each time.
To prove attacking us gained nothing, I had our dead and their gear burned entirely. Only then did raids taper off.
Beyond the low woods lay broad meadows of scrub and grass, dotted with snowmelt lakes and ponds—fresh water aplenty.
We refilled skins and caught fish to stretch rations. No attacks here.
But as we entered the high mountains, the mountain folk struck anew. At snow-choked cliffs, boulders and packed snowballs rained from above like waterfalls—aimed to hurl us to our deaths for the loot.
I drew my sword, positioned amid the ranks, and roared.
"Grip your comrades tight! Archers, loose on the cliffs! No panic—we are the legion! Fight like the empire's eagles!"
I stood exposed, ignoring the flying stones and snow. A rock clanged my helmet, blood trickling, but I held firm.
"Governor Ain watches us!"
Cogol bellowed.
The men glanced my way, saw the blood streaming down my face.
"He's with us! Kill the savages!"
Outrage fueled their shouts.
Leading by example steadied them; they met the assault head-on. Our countervolley began, and the attackers' barrage faltered.
"Kraaak!"
One foe, pierced by an arrow, plummeted into the abyss.
"Slaughter them! Only dead bandits guarantee the empire's peace!"
I stoked their fury.
Arrows flew relentlessly; the enemy hesitated, then retreated.
"Scale the cliff! End their line!"
Soldiers hurled ropes upward. Before the barbarians could react, Rikius—sword in teeth—was first up.
"Death to the bandits!"
He charged, blade flashing. More men crested, hacking away; the foe fled in disarray.
But they'd drawn my blood. The legion showed no mercy.
We hunted relentlessly, claiming over a hundred heads.
"Long live Commander Ain!"
The men cheered victory, chanting my name.
I had the severed heads impaled on poles, borne by the vanguard. A warning to highland folk against blocking our legion's passage.
Thankfully, that ended their assaults. Word spread fast in those narrow valleys; they knew our mettle now.
Yet Ardiya remained perilous.
On icy slopes and snowbound gullies, we lost over four hundred—worse than against Ronad. A grievous toll.
Still, after six grueling days, we crested Ardiya. Save Heigirt recently, none had matched our feat.
"Ahh... the imperial heartland."
I halted, gazing at the endless plains below. My officers and men behind rubbed their eyes, scarcely believing we'd crossed in days.
"We did it."
I murmured, then thrust my arm high and bellowed.
"We did it! Eagles of the empire!"
"Waaaaah!"
Our thunderous cheers heralded our return to the homeland. At last, the long, arduous journey ended.
(To be continued)