Subjugating the Female General (10)
Caught in a sudden ambush, Duke Balanos's army had no choice but to fall back and re-form their lines.
The Duke's swift grasp of the situation kept the casualties from growing too severe, but the threat of another oil attack meant they needed time to prepare a proper countermeasure. They loaded their wagons with earth-filled sandbags — the only defense they could devise against burning oil — and assembling enough of them cost them an entire day they could not afford to lose.
Duke Balanos's column resumed its march. When they passed the site of the previous fire attack, the acrid stench still hung in the air. The corpses of men and horses that had failed to escape lay scattered across the ground. The sight of their fallen comrades sent the army's morale sliding steadily downward.
"Recover the soldiers' bodies. Quickly."
At the Duke's command, they hurried to gather the dead and buried them in a sunlit patch of earth.
Once the graves were filled, Duke Balanos stepped forward and began to speak.
It was a speech designed to transmute sinking morale into rage — to forge frightened men into something fiercer. And it worked. The Duke's words were stirring enough, grand enough, that every soldier in the ranks found himself seething with indignation toward the Kairan Kingdom.
"Cadis Fortress is just ahead! Press on with everything you have!!"
They had prepared thoroughly against another oil attack. There was nothing left to fear. And yet, as if to mock all that preparation, no second fire attack ever came.
The main force made camp before the gates of Cadis Fortress. Siege engines were assembled; the army threw itself into the work of readying an assault. The true siege was about to begin.
The rear army under Eliard Edinel handled the transport of supplies, keeping the Kairan conquest force fed and equipped. Most of their movement took place well inside the Krantz Empire, so the work carried little real danger. Duke Edinel prepared the goods and provisions himself and sent them forward, which made Eliard the natural choice to oversee the rear.
Whenever a shipment was ready, a single division loaded it onto wagons and hauled it out. The destination was only the Cadis Gorge — hardly a perilous assignment. The border of the Krantz Empire to the gorge was less than half a day's march. The only genuine risk was another fire attack once they entered the canyon itself.
The commander of the Fifth Division set out with the next day's supplies. With no enemy expected before they reached the gorge, the transport column moved at an unhurried pace. The main force still had rations of its own; this shipment was simply tomorrow's meal. Sending one unit a day had been more than enough. Once they punched through Cadis Fortress and the distances grew, the rear army would have its hands full — but for now, nothing looked particularly difficult.
That was before Duke Adrian appeared.
The night raids and fire attacks at Cadis Fortress had bought just enough time for Adrian's thousand-strong cavalry to complete a long, circuitous ride and arrive on schedule. The transport unit numbered a thousand as well, and so did Adrian's force — but the quality of the two sides was not remotely the same. Adrian commanded the Phoenix Knight Order, her personal retinue, and every last one of them was mounted.
Adrian herself rode at the very tip of the formation, lance in hand, carving through the enemy without mercy. They smashed the column in a wedge and punched straight through.
"R-retreat!! Fall back!!!"
The Fifth Division commander barked the order the instant he felt the weight of the assault. They never managed a proper fight. They abandoned the supplies where they stood and fled for their lives.
Adrian did not bother chasing them. She took a few sacks of grain from the wagons, set the rest ablaze, and rode on.
"What? The supplies were taken?"
The Fifth Division commander stood before Eliard and delivered his report.
"Duke Adrian herself led a thousand cavalry against us."
"Adrian?"
Eliard's first reaction had been fury. The moment he heard that name, his expression changed. His father might be in charge of logistics, but if Eliard wanted achievements of his own, he needed to be on a battlefield — not stuck back here minding wagons. And now Adrian had come to him in person. Capturing her would be an easy path to glory. Besides, she had brought only a thousand troops.
"Which way did Duke Adrian go?"
"We... we couldn't tell, my lord."
They had been too busy running to watch where she vanished.
"Damn it! Then at least tell me which direction she came from!"
"From the north, my lord — along the Cadis Gorge."
"Hmph. She must have ridden a long way around. Listen well. Commanders of the Third, Fourth, Fifth, and Sixth Divisions — restock the supplies and resume transport. Commanders of the Seventh, Eighth, Ninth, and Tenth — search the area where Duke Adrian was last seen. I want her trail found. No excuses."
If he captured Adrian with his own hands, the war would be as good as over — and the highest honor would belong to him. Eliard was already lost in that rosy vision, without the faintest thought for how sharp Adrian's mind actually was.
"My lord, if we send eight-tenths of our force into the field, who defends this camp? It's too dangerous."
His adjutant tried to stop him.
"This is the heart of the Krantz Empire. What danger could there possibly be? Don't waste your worry on it."
Eliard could see the sense in the warning, but when he factored in the border garrison already stationed nearby, he decided the risk was negligible. In the end, the troops were split and dispatched exactly as he had ordered.
Four divisions scoured the ground where Adrian had supposedly disappeared. She was already long gone. She had crossed the Krantz Empire's border and driven straight into its interior. The empire was vast enough that a determined rider could always find a gap in the patrols — and Adrian had mapped those gaps before she ever set out. Eliard, knowing none of this, had sent his soldiers on a wild chase after nothing.
By the dead of night, the search parties were still pushing north, and the transport units had already entered the Cadis Gorge. Adrian tethered her horse nearby, changed into black night-clothes, and slipped toward the rear army's encampment with practiced care.
Her cavalry had fought at her side so often they were less a unit than a personal guard — the troops she trusted above all others, and their skill left no room for doubt. Muriel Max, commander of the Phoenix Knight Order, was a knight who could hold his own even against Adrian herself. They had been friends since childhood, and it was his devotion to her that had carried him all the way to the commander's seat.
Muriel hand-picked the ten swiftest knights in his order and set out for the camp. They marked the sentries by the sway of their torchlight, then struck — fast, silent, cutting every throat. They stripped the dead, pulled on the uniforms, and took the sentries' posts themselves. They had already timed the watch rotations. The next relief was two hours away.
After that, it was easy. A thousand soldiers filed through the gap the Phoenix Knights had opened.
"This way."
Muriel guided Adrian in the moment she arrived.
"That's the warehouse where the supplies are stacked. Over there is Eliard's command tent. Where do you want to go?"
"I'll take Eliard. You handle the supplies."
"The instant those stores go up, you get out. Don't linger."
"I know."
Their foothold inside the camp was already secure. Adrian's troops stood ready, torches and blades in hand. The Phoenix Knight Order numbered a hundred; half went with Muriel, half with Adrian.
Adrian moved in silence toward Eliard's tent. Voices carried from inside — several of them. A war council, by the sound of it. The thought struck her that she might as well cut off the enemy's entire command in a single stroke. She trusted her own strength enough to try.
She walked straight in.
The tent flap flew open and a figure stepped through. Eliard stared, bewildered. So did the adjutant and the commanders of the First and Second Divisions standing beside him.
"Wh-who...?"
Even at a glance, the night-clothes marked the intruder as someone who did not belong.
"You're Eliard, then?"
"A-Adrian??!!"
The instant he heard the voice and realized it belonged to a woman, the blood drained from Eliard's face. The adjutant and the division commanders drew their swords — but Adrian was faster. In a single motion she took the adjutant's head and turned on the commanders. The Phoenix Knights poured in behind her and fell upon everyone still standing.
Eliard, white with panic, slashed through the back of the tent and bolted. What waited for him on the other side was a ring of knights who had already surrounded the tent.
A dull crack. The pommel of a sword caught him across the back of the skull the moment he emerged, and Eliard crumpled, unconscious.
"We've got Eliard."
"Good. Burn it all!"
Adrian finished the remaining officers inside, stepped out of the tent, and started fires wherever she passed. Her soldiers moved through the camp, driving blades into men still asleep in their bedrolls. Soldiers who stumbled outside, half-armed and half-awake, were cut down before they understood what was happening.
Then, in the distance, another column of flame leapt into the sky. The supply warehouse had gone up.
"We're leaving. Now!"
One of the knights bound Eliard, slung him over a shoulder, and ran. They withdrew in perfect order, while behind them the camp dissolved into chaos, too busy trying to understand the attack to organize any pursuit.