Traitor (1)
The weather was clear and calm. A damn good day, in fact. Everything would have been perfect if not for being surrounded by barbarians. Velius—that bastard. I should have cut his throat in the middle of the night, just as Erenia suggested.
I rubbed the hilt of my sword with my thumb.
At that moment, a few barbarians approached us waving a white flag.
"We have a message!"
"Speak."
I answered without letting the enemy into our camp.
"Are you Ain, the governor of Bellgorod, standing there?"
"I am."
"Our king holds you and the legion you command in high regard. He doesn't expect you to surrender willingly, but if you lay down your arms and join us, he promises safety and riches."
"I've heard that line before. But my answer is the same now as it was then. The empire's eagle may sell its sword and shield, but never its pride."
"Opportunities don't come twice, governor of Bellgorod."
"You've already given me plenty, so it's not very convincing. Go back and tell your king this: it's going to be hard to take my head this time too."
"Hmph. We'll see."
The barbarians turned their horses around.
Rikius watched the scene and said to me,
"Sir, we're surrounded by the enemy."
"I know. But if we raise the white flag here, the empire falls into the hands of traitors and barbarians."
I said bitterly.
Now, the empire had no one to rely on but us.
Rikius saluted and quietly withdrew.
An hour later, the barbarians' attack began.
The first assault started with a rain of arrows. As our soldiers raised their shields against the arrow storm, barbarians dismounted and charged in a black mass, wielding axes and wooden poles.
Whoosh. Whoosh.
With arrows flying endlessly, it was hard for me even to survey the battlefield.
"They're climbing up!"
An officer who spotted the enemy's attack amid the arrow rain shouted.
The lead enemy with a pole scaled the palisade in one go. Simpler than a ladder, but the pole's lightness made it a highly threatening tool—you could vault right over.
"Gah!"
The first one to climb was pierced by a spear tip and screamed as he fell. But he was just the beginning. Enemies scaled the palisade everywhere, and the clash of weapons rang out nonstop.
At the same time, some enemies sheltered by shields began hacking at the base of the palisade with axes. Even if the top assault failed, they'd break through by smashing a hole.
'But punching one hole won't change a thing.'
I waited for our soldiers' response.
Soon, scalding oil poured down on the enemy infantry.
The axemen screamed and rolled on the ground.
But with fresh enemies grabbing axes and charging, it didn't do much. The barbarians exploited their numerical superiority thoroughly.
"Fire arrows here too."
At my decision, a legion officer waved the signal flag. Arrows were a limited supply, so we couldn't use them freely.
"Loose!"
Our archers, waiting like angry hornets, unleashed a volley. As our arrows struck like lightning, barbarians screamed and tumbled to the dirt. Caught in melee without quick response, their losses were heavy.
I kept ordering arrow fire and descended from the watchtower with my guards.
"The front can hold for now. The flanks and rear are the problem—any barbarian attacks there?"
Those sides didn't have full palisades yet—just rough ditches. Cavalry could charge right through.
Rikius rubbed his nose at my question.
"No reports of attacks yet."
"Good."
No sooner had I spoken than thick black smoke rose from the north and south, as if on cue.
Rikius and I exchanged glances.
'Pulling our attention to the front, then hitting the flanks with timed strikes.'
A textbook tactic, but one requiring masterful coordination of a massive army.
I ordered Rikius to split the reserve barbarian cavalry into two and send them north and south. Even if it drained our strength, we had to block the immediate assaults.
I tried not to flinch at the barbarians' savage war cries echoing from all sides.
The first attack ended after an hour. The barbarians didn't aim to annihilate us outright—they tested our mettle and withdrew.
A light probe for them, but a devastating blow for us.
In that single clash, I felt the gap in forces. At least five times our numbers. With that advantage, they toyed with us like a cat with a mouse, probing lightly to wear us down before the final push. We'd have no counter if they kept it up.
But we had our ace: the legion camped on a sloped hill. Even if palisades fell, the terrain favored anti-cavalry defense.
Water and food supply worried me, but no better position existed now.
'If we can just hold for three days.'
They'd have to retreat.
No other reason. Cavalry nature. The tens of thousands of horses and livestock in their horde devoured massive grass.
As pastures distanced from the battlefield, hauling cut fodder took immense labor.
Could the barbarians sustain it?
No chance. They saw battle as honor, logistics as slave work. Mowing grass? Unthinkable. Hold until pastures depleted, and they'd withdraw—Heigirt's strategy be damned, just barbarian habit.
I looked at the soldiers, already weary from the brief fight. Soon, fresh enemies would attack.
I bit my lip.
"Barbarians incoming!"
And sure enough.
With trumpets blaring, a new barbarian unit charged. Spacing attacks gave brief rests to heighten fatigue—a cunning ploy.
I clapped soldiers' shoulders, encouraging them.
"You're the empire's proud eagles. How many barbarian necks have you taken under me?"
"Four, I think."
"Long way to go, then. Just ninety-six more. I'll sign your discharge papers without a word."
The soldiers roared with laughter at my joke.
I patted their backs, cloak billowing as I surveyed the field.
"The 16th Legion ends today! For King Heigirt!"
"Waaah!"
Barbarians howled, swarming the ditchless flank. Our two ranks on the ditch stood stone-faced, shields locked into a wall.
"Ain's army is invincible!"
Boruman bellowed, hefting a massive spear.
"Ain! Ain!"
"The 16th Legion will triumph!"
Shouts and curses mingled as barbarians raced up the slope to the ditch. They leaped in, flailing to climb out.
"Stomp 'em!"
Soldiers mechanically crushed hands with hobnailed boots, bashed with shields. Enemies screamed, tumbling back into the ditch.
The legionaries held, but our barbarian auxiliaries struggled. Usiper's unit on the ditch's right flank faltered.
I watched, then rushed there with guards.
"Damn it."
Usiper swore, swinging his sword. His horsemen weren't heavy infantry like legionaries—poor for defense.
I joined the fray with my guards.
A governor fighting personally was unheard of, but surrounded and facing annihilation, rank be damned.
I decapitated an enemy climbing the ditch.
"Kek!"
Dark blood sprayed across. I kicked the headless corpse down, blocking an incoming axe with my shield. My arm throbbed, but I swung my sword nonchalantly.
"Empire commander!"
Some spotted my insignia and yelled.
"Sir, danger!"
Guards shouted at flying weapons, but I ignored them.
"I've survived blood-soaked battlefields for over a decade. Think this scares Ain?"
I yanked the handaxe from my shield and hurled it back. It embedded in a barbarian's forehead mid-leap. He fell silently into the ditch.
"Kill him!"
A barbarian leader pointed at me, screaming.
I laughed heartily.
"Hahaha. Come at me. I'll take you all."
I shield-smashed a charging barbarian's gut, dumping him into the ditch.
Whoosh.
A late sword grazed my cheek. Unfazed, I shield-whacked his hand. Before he recovered, my guard slit his throat.
We hacked through ant-like hordes for nearly an hour.
Finally, deeming enough, barbarians ebbed away like tide.
'Over at last.'
Thud.
I collapsed amid corpses. Wet blood soaked my ass, but I didn't care. I exhaled deeply.
Thunk.
Leaning on my sword stabbed beside me, Usiper approached.
"Sir, that was too reckless."
The chieftain's face showed unfamiliar emotion.
I smirked at him.
"Same goes for you. This battle offers slim odds. Yet you and your men stood with us. I'm grateful."
Usiper grinned.
"Only 'cause our families are still in your camp at Bellgorod. You know that."
He meant it sincerely. A shrewd calculator like him could have wavered midway.
I felt a bitter pang that this barbarian seemed more trustworthy than the Praetorian Prefect.
"Grateful all the same."
"If so, ease up on the land issue."
"Deal."
I swept back my blood-matted hair.
Late-arriving Rikius saw me and fumed.
"Sir, you fought with sword in hand?"
"Yes."
"Gods. You're the army's supreme commander. If you fall, the legion's done."
"I know. But sometimes emotion trumps reason."
Like seizing the battlefield's momentum. Wars need brainy tactics, but also gut instinct. I'd learned that over years; Rikius hadn't.
He shook his head, uncomprehending.
"Sir, never again. We can't lose you."
"Can't promise."
"Sir."
"Look around. Everyone fought hard. No law says commanders lounge safe in back."
"Governor, sir!"
"I steeled for death starting this fight, Rikius."
My grim words silenced him.
Yes. I'd wagered my life here.
No escape, no schemes.
I rubbed bloodied blade with my finger and stood.
(To be continued)