Those Who Harbor Ambitions (3)
The imperial army pressed northwest without engaging in any major battles. We'd sent out scouts to track Heigirt's cavalry, but catching sight of their tail proved no easy task.
All we gleaned from the wailing villagers and ravaged farmlands was that some of the enemy's detachments were circling our flanks.
Velius did little beyond dispatching cavalry to draw the enemy's eyes away. Or was it sheer bravado, daring them to come at us head-on?
Even so, a pitched battle on open plains would be a gamble.
No matter how many troops we had mustered, the enemy's main force was cavalry. Facing off against tens of thousands of horsemen wasn't child's play—especially with green recruits making up the bulk of our ranks, short on training.
Anyone would instinctively turn tail at the sight of warhorses charging at full gallop.
Training was what kept men rooted in place, suppressing that urge. Without it, a single cavalry charge could shatter our lines like dry reeds.
Of course, Velius knew that much.
Having fought in Ersia, he'd no doubt clashed on vast, open plains. No veteran of those battles could be ignorant of cavalry's terror.
So what was his game?
I couldn't fathom Velius's mind.
Even our own troops were starting to show unease at chasing an enemy that had vanished into thin air. Supplies were the issue. Libitus lay in ruins, making local foraging all but impossible.
That left us relying on the intact southern Libitus port as our forward base—and we'd already marched more than three days beyond it.
To steady the anxious soldiers, I reminded them how we'd survived the Black Forest in days past and told them to trust me. They eased at my words, but I couldn't shake my own growing dread.
"Better to find the bastards quick and give 'em a proper fight. Feels like we're just being dragged around, wearing ourselves out."
"I agree. But Velius is dead set on pursuit—he's convinced. Can't very well tell him he's wrong and head home."
"Hah."
Rubiot let out a heavy sigh.
I felt the same.
We spent days traversing the vast plains in pursuit of the barbarians. It took a full four days before Velius finally summoned me.
"Reckon the cat-and-mouse game's over. The enemy's dug in between us and Luar Gorge."
"How can you be sure?"
Velius grinned and handed over a tightly rolled parchment.
I read it, my face twisting in confusion.
"This is?"
"A letter from Heigirt. We nabbed it five days back, actually. He planned to mass his forces at Luar Gorge."
"Then our maneuvers so far?"
"Just a feint to make him think we were clueless. Wasted effort on his part, but not for us. Thanks to it, he's handed us a prime spot we can't ignore."
If true, it wasn't wrong. We'd crossed the plains to reach Luar Gorge, a key route linking the southwest plains to northeast Libitus.
Detouring around it would cost at least three days—precious time in any campaign.
But Heigirt's no fool. Even if he bluffed, he wouldn't just sit there waiting for us to exploit his flank.
I couldn't make sense of it, so I held my tongue and listened.
"He'll come at us soon enough. No reason for him to fear us anyway."
I agreed completely. Heigirt's host could stand toe-to-toe with ours—at least forty thousand strong, maybe sixty if we stretched it.
"Then we need preparations."
"Precisely. We'll erect stockades from the gorge to the Litton Hills south—twenty kilometers total. Blunt their charge, and the rest falls into place."
"Sounds solid."
Stockades.
At least he wasn't blind to the cavalry threat.
"Have the governor and 16th Legion handle the eight kilometers at the hills. That sector's more vulnerable—needs seasoned troops."
"Understood."
I accepted Velius's proposal.
The basic plan seemed sound enough.
I saluted the commander and stepped out.
"Keep the stockades tight. Hammer those stakes twice over. It'll save your hides."
As the centurions oversaw the work, I clasped my hands behind my back and climbed the hills.
The endless line of stockades stretching up the slopes was impressive. Achieving this in half a day? Only the empire's legions, born for construction, could pull it off.
Inspecting the upper lines, I decided the hillsides needed defending too.
"Rubiot. Can we ring the hills with another layer?"
"We can if ordered. But won't it exhaust the men?"
"If the barbarians swing back and envelop us, we need it. Stockades too much? Dig a ditch then."
Rubiot assented.
Defenses went up swiftly. Work starting at lunch had taken decent shape by dawn. I rotated the troops for rest.
At least we're doing something. Eases the mind.
I was about to order Rikius to shift our cavalry to a pasture away from the stockades when a horn blared from the fresh watchtower.
Rushing up, an officer knelt in report.
"Excellency. Barbarians."
"Already?"
From the tower, I scanned the horizon. Sure enough, a faint dust cloud rose in the distance.
A sight only massed cavalry could raise.
But with preparations underway, I felt a measure of relief.
"Boruman!"
"Yes, Excellency."
"Advance the infantry battalions to the stockades. Issue arrows to the archers."
"Yes, sir."
"And Captain Bofiadus."
"Yes."
"Ready the ballistae. We're defenders here—no need for overkill, but better safe."
"I'll muster the engineers."
I sent the officers to their posts and gripped the tower rail.
Damn barbarians.
Soon Heigirt's horde swept forward like a black gale, halting before our stockades.
Tens of thousands, at least. The plains seemed to shrink under their black tide—enough to chill the blood. To face them all, sever their heads...
I rubbed my palms. Cold sweat.
No white flag for this.
Thud-thud-thud-thud.
They surged like a raging river. The vanguard halted, but the waves behind sorted into position. Tens of thousands by eye—hundreds of thousands to the troops' dread.
But we can't lose this. We've prepared.
I drew my blade.
"Waaah!"
The men roared at the sight.
"16th Legion! We are the victorious eagles! I'm here—trust in me!"
"Ain! Ain! Ain!"
Our cheers drew some barbarians forward.
They raised their tribal banners, parading before their lines.
"The king has spoken! The empire shall be ours, and we shall revel in eternal bounty! Long live Emperor Heigirt!"
"Glory to the king!"
They bellowed back.
But it was all posturing still. They'd massed before us but hadn't committed.
Or perhaps they had other plans.
We stared them down in taut standoff.
Time dragged—wasted for both sides.
Two days at most before they probe us.
That thought lasted less than a day.
"Excellency! Excellency!"
In the dead of night, Rikius burst into my tent, torch in hand, face ashen from patrolling the stockades.
"Barbarian attack?"
"Worse. The 11th Legion—it's gone."
"What?"
I shot to my feet. The 11th held position beside us—their vanishing punched a hole in our line.
"Saw it on patrol. Tents, gear, baggage—all left behind. The whole legion pulled out."
"Impossible. Without orders from the commander-in-chief? A legion commander can't just—"
Velius's blue eyes flashed in my mind.
That bastard.
Suddenly, it clicked—what he'd planned all along.
He'd flung us—the loyal 16th, ever faithful to the empire—into the jaws of doom.
That letter from Heigirt? The maneuvers? All calculated to set up this betrayal.
Maybe he'd even cut a deal with Heigirt to carve up the empire. Severing Ronad's head? Just a gesture to dodge suspicion.
Monsters drunk on power.
I gnashed my teeth.
With our legion gone, no field army force could defy Velius.
Atillca might stand firm, but they'd fight only for their own skins—typical homeland legion.
The new legions cared little for imperial tradition. Stir them up, march on the capital, and toppling the state would be easier than hot soup.
But with the enemy at our gates?
Rage boiled from my marrow.
Velius.
I ground my teeth. I understood resentment built over years as a hostage in the empire's name, lurking in shadows without glory.
But betraying us who'd trusted him? Unforgivable for any soldier. He'd shirked his commander's duty.
For greed. For ambition.
I slammed my fist on the table.
"Rikius!"
"Yes, Excellency!"
"Pull the entire legion back to the hills—now."
"Shouldn't we flee to the gorge?"
"Heigirt's no idiot. He's herding us for the kill. Since when do infantry outrun cavalry?"
"My thinking was shortsighted."
"We hold the hills. To the death."
"Understood."
Rikius saluted and left.
Erenia stirred, pushing back her blanket—she'd overheard.
"You sure about this?"
"No. But I'm an imperial soldier. Even with annihilation looming, I stay calm before the men."
"Words of a true warrior."
"Erenia. Take a horse. One man slipping away won't draw their eye."
"Not much fun in that. No home to return to, no one waiting. Better to watch a glorious fight at your side."
Her blue eyes sparkled.
"Suit yourself."
I flung my cloak and strode out.
(To be continued)