Age of War

Chapter 24

A league or so north of Ixion, the land began to climb. It wasn’t quite as rugged as the hill country on the Atlas side of the Titans, but it still rose inexorably towards the mountains and so offered a view across much of the Chronusi heartland. This morning it was shrouded in low mist, and the dark forest was mostly hidden. There was no smoke rising from the south, indeed no sign at all from this distance that any kind of battle had taken place beneath the skeletal eaves. Albrihn’s jaw worked as he looked down. He was watching for pursuit, although he didn’t expect it. Around him were the ragged remains of his army – no more than two-hundred or so soldiers, many of whom were injured, that had found their way here following a stream northwards. They were now resting in a sinuous curve of that stream, watering their exhausted horses and washing the blood and filth from their faces. No one spoke. Morrow sat apart from the rest on a rock, staring into space. She hadn’t said anything to him after he’d let her down from his horse. It would take time for her to process a defeat of this scale. It would take him time too.

On the shore of the stream sat Jerl with a few of her irregulars and one or two stragglers from other units. The army had been scattered in their flight from the forest and loose bands of men and women roamed the countryside, but all of them headed north on some instinct, making for the Gap of Haephestus. Albrihn had sent survivors from the Seventh out to round up anyone they could find. Jerl’s unit had been the only ones they’d found heading south-west, back towards the fenland. They couldn’t imagine they’d find a way through, or that the gnarls would be as accommodating as last time, but perhaps they reasoned it was the quickest route to safety. They were born survivors, of that he had no doubt. However, they respected the chain of command, and had followed Windhael back to the where the rest of the Atlasian remnants were gathering. Now, the broad woman squatted by the stream and filled her helmet with cold, clear water which she drank deeply before pouring the rest over her face. She did all this awkwardly, with one hand, for her left harm was tied up in a rudimentary sling. She thought it was broken.

“Where now, commander?” she asked him.

“I don’t know.” He walked over and crouched down beside her. He still had his waterskin with him and filled it up, more out of habit than because he was thirsty. He was a soldier, and he resupplied whenever he had the chance. “I want to find out what happened.”

“No offence, commander, but it ain’t gonna be long until about fifteen-thousand Chronusi bastards come riding up that road and they’re sure as piss not going to let us escape again.”

“I know that.”

“Still, your plan was sound.” She straightened with a wince and hooked her helmet back onto her belt. Her mattock, that had been so deadly in the battle, had a chipped blade.

“That’s good to know,” he said with a small smile. He stood up too.

“But you know what they say about plans and contact with the enemy, right?”

“Right. But it should’ve worked. Two experienced commanders helped me come up with it.” He looked down at the distant forest again. “Where was the other contingent? Why didn’t they attack?”

“I saw fighting towards the south,” Jerl offered.

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Couldn’t make out much, but there was definitely something happening at the rear there.”

“I don’t see how they could have caught them out in the south; they didn’t see us coming from the north.”

“Betrayal,” a voice said, and they both turned to look at Morrow. She was still staring into space, but then her gaze shifted and her eyes met Albrihn’s. She’d fought in hundreds of battles, but he’d never seen a stare like that from her before.