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  Also to join them during the march apparently were the warrior Valkyries from the city-state of Rade’Remar, a special summons by Bennam as one of his last acts of influence.

  Stelinger remained the centre of attention as he explained his marching plan. Cid listened and watched the maps critically, ready to challenge any flaw that might surface.

  ‘We march in four days, so we’ll do our supply and maintenance on Pegnesday.’

  Using a pointing stick he started to explain. Stelinger moved one of the clay figures, ‘this is the main force, more than three and a half thousand strong. Each of these…,’ Stelinger pointed at the four smaller figurines, ‘are the satellite companies. As the main force marches through the canyon, the satellite companies will take point, keeping front on the highland woods both sides of the canyon; two companies on the west and two on the east side basically. The companies will protect, cover and scout, while keeping the main force up to date with intelligence. The main force will not move without feedback, our exposure within the canyon is obvious and I cannot stress the importance of our satellites. I will therefore assign a Captain in charge to each of the satellites and grant them the freedom to choose any two-hundred men, save for a few designated.’

  The designated few Cid knew were Stelinger’s personal magi and champions; among them would be Colonel Drissil, an expert in leading cavalry charges.

  ‘Our trek will inevitably collide with the bulk of the Fallen’s force in the canyon, where we should be able to defeat and push past them. Observe the three ramps on the west and the four on east side of the canyon; bear in mind that the ramps are our main logistical routes for our satellite companies from the forest into the canyon.

  ‘As it stands then, we can flank the Fallen numbers with our satellites from the ramps should the need arise. Needless to say there are some locations where we will have obvious vulnerabilities. I stress that our main concern for the satellite companies is to prevent the army being ambushed from higher ground.

  ‘Be mindful that there are many other smaller trails which can used to get into the canyon by small parties. We must under no circumstances be blindsided, which is why I will have the Valkyries follow us on a delayed route. Ultimately the number of men we can march is constrained by the canyon itself, so our tally cannot be supplemented lest we become a cumbersome prey. With our outriders and satellites we can assure a swift and safe passage through the heartland. We will deal with each threat as it surfaces.

  ‘Once we secure Jacanta point we’ll have victory, which is where we will spend the following weeks building the outpost. We will defend the area to the extent of need, protecting the perimeter while the outline of the outpost is set up with materials from our supply trains.

  ‘With time the camp will be properly outfitted and equipped as resources from the Kingdom reach us. As you know, once entrenched, we will await the finest troops from the Kingdom, where our mission to defeat the Fallen at each of their holdings will commence.

  ‘I will lead the excursion up and till Jacanta. Once we are joined by the other cities the authority will be taken up by Generals Protus from Asheva and Eroes from Isa. Nothing of this though will happen until Lanston succeeds, the progress of operation Biridian lies wholly with us.’

  Cid reviewed the plan carefully in his head while some of the other men questioned Stelinger tentatively. The operation was ambitious and a little uncharacteristic of Bennam, yet Cid could not find plausible reasons to query the plan or Stelinger’s method for that matter. There would be many dangers, some of them not foreseeable, but the plan was not questionable.

  After some slight debating Stelinger announced, ‘the four men who will lead the satellite parties are Captains Maverin, Olum, Phillip and Colonel Cid. I give each one of you the right to choose your own squad from the available men, be sure to get a list of the names from my advisor Piatil.’

  Cid could barely hide his surprise; he was rarely arrogant about anything, but he was considered the master tactician. Isolating him from the main command would severely cut any influence he could have on their march to Jacanta point.

  Cid sought to catch Stelinger’s gaze. He did, and Stelinger nodded once expressively at him. Cid wasn’t sure what to make of it, deciding to be patient. They discussed some further issues, but Cid did not partake as he anxiously waited for the meeting to end. When it finally did, Stelinger motioned for Cid to follow him. He complied. Outside, with no one in earshot, Stelinger spoke.

  ‘I know you’re surprised, and I am sorry to detach you from the main force, but at the moment I’m trying to remedy a problem before it starts.’

  Cid’s eyebrows furrowed in question.

  ‘You see, the barracks has been reporting to me that they’ve seen you bring in a woman two nights ago. Predictably some of the men stated that they were sure it was a prostitute, but I’m going to assume it was Elmira,’ said Stelinger.

  Cid nodded in defeat; they had been a bit careless, but he still didn’t think anyone would have noticed.

  ‘For now the whole thing is manageable, some of the ranks will want to see you punished and I do not want to appear slack on authority. The guys waiting the wings, the hungry ones, knows that the only way they’ll get in a position likes yours is for you to be disgraced, so they would not take kindly if I were to overlook the incident. Of course, excluding you from the march entirely is ludicrous and that’s why I’m assigning you to the satellite party. This way no one can claim that I have done nothing and you still get to participate. And Cid - the other thing is that at some point we will hit some rough patches and our victory then might just come down to some guerilla tactics in the woods. Having our best tactician in charge of that can be the difference maker. It actually works out well for all of us, I guess.’

  ‘Yes sir, thank you sir,’ were the only words Cid could utter, hating the humiliation.

  Stelinger nodded once, turned and disappeared.

  Cid was surprised to find himself breathing very shallowly as he had neglected to do so as Stelinger talked. He dared not challenge Stelinger for there was no need to; Stelinger had shown him incredible mercy by not punishing him severely, which he was entitled to do. Rather Stelinger had done exactly what Bennam would have done and so cleverly compromised in order to ensure military efficiency.

  Cid could not deny that he was feeling particularly low at the moment. Not only did he violate protocol, but Stelinger had managed it all without showing a single sign of the familiar malice. He distinctly prioritized the army’s needs above his feud with Cid. Not that the feud meant much now that Stelinger had won, now that he was the Commander.

  Cid gathered himself and went in search of Brunick and Alex. All he could think about now however was how right Bennam was; Stelinger responded positively to entitlement and was showing signs of becoming a great Commander. Cid returned to his room, determined to undress his armour.

  Later that day, wandering to settle with these developments, Cid found Brunick and Alex in the courtyard, captured in a game with dozens of other soldiers. Most of the men were spectators, lining all four sides of the yard, but some dozen and a half men were moving in chaotic patterns with a makeshift brown leather ball amongst them, kicking up a storm of dust from the yard sand. Cid smiled, spotting Alex and Brunick on the no-shirts team.

  Bajural was a regular event here for the soldiers and it was a favourite pass of time, whether playing it, wagering, or simply just watching. Of course the game they played here had little resemblance to both the rules and structures of a real Bajural match played in the Kingdom stadiums. Yet that was the beauty of it; the game was malleable and could be adapted to fit whoever was playing it.

  The soldiers, as usual, placed two sets of empty ale barrels atop one another. The top barrel was positioned horizontally and its lid was removed. This hole served as the goal to shoot for. It was a small target to be sure, but it was justified by the space that they played in. Some of the children back in Lanston played
Bajural using only their feet, but the real thing was played using one’s hands as well.

  The particular version being played here was simple; you were allowed to carry the ball and pass it on by hand as well, but only kicks could be used to score. Also, any touch made by an opposing player to the ball carrier would see the ball switch sides with a free-kick to the defending team. The rules as it were made the game fast and frenetic.

  Brunick’s strength was obviously negated by the rules and he was forced to use every ounce of skill and agility he possessed. Even so he was naturally predisposed with the size of his body as he served as a large target and an easy touch. Alex in this instance was much more efficient as he could avoid most defenders with ease.

  Brunick however was as vibrant as always and Cid felt that his constant bellowing and cheering was keeping the other team off balance. Cid kept watching silently among a rambunctious crowd until a break was announced. Alex spotted Cid almost immediately while Brunick headed for the water barrels.

  ‘Hey captain,’ said Alex as he closed in. ‘Wanna join? We always lose a few men after halftime.’

  Cid chuckled and shook his head, ‘do I ever play?’

  ‘Well, now would be a good time for a change, by the way this is our last chance to have some fun before the march,’ said Alex.

  Cid remained thoughtful until he said, ‘okay, I’ll pitch in.’

  ‘That’s our captain!’ said Alex excitably.

  Pulling off his shirt Cid entered the fray as the teams organized their new members. Cid’s presence ensured a rough mixture of welcomes and insults. The insults of course were not personal and would be nothing if not part of the game, at least in the soldier’s version. It was all part of the banter.

  ‘Wha…! Cid, you’re playing too?’ asked Brunick in disbelieve.

  He nodded.

  ‘I don’t think I’ve seen you play since nursery school,’ teased Brunick.

  ‘Careful Brunick, you know I hate to play shirtless, I might just decide to change sides,’ he retorted.

  ‘Go ahead then, I’ll make sure to suggest we play tackle instead!’ said Brunick.

  ‘What’s that Brunick? Should we play tackle?’ came a voice from the other side.

  ‘Aye!’ yelled another.

  The idea caught popular vote quickly with the surrounding crowd, voicing a tackle chant.

  ‘Great,’ muttered Cid to himself, knowing now that the game was likely to end as a brawl. He turned to Brunick and saw an unflinching grin on his face.

  Of course he’s happy; he’s the strongest guy in the Lanston military.

  The agreement was made and before Cid could get a say, (he wanted to ensure some tackle-specific rules) the game started. What had been frenetic scramble to avoid contact became a plight for as much impact as possible.

  Each and every man carried the ball as strongly as they could, meeting in a clash of bodies with the tackler, the game becoming unstructured and selfish. Predictably by the time Cid first touched the ball they were trailing by three goals. It was only a moment later that was Cid levelled to the ground by an overzealous tackler. Cid rose to his feet slowly and watched helplessly as his team became outmatched again.

  It turned out that even with Brunick on their side the other team were the more talented group of ball players. It didn’t take Cid long to call a time out, assembling his team in a circle, their hands already on their knees.

  ‘Who made you captain?’ asked Brunick.

  ‘You did, the moment you suggested we play tackle, besides I’m the highest ranking officer here.’

  ‘Ha! Pulling rank on us now are we?’ said Brunick

  Cid shook his head, ignoring Brunick’s remarks.

  ‘How about we just do a plan Abraham’s?’ said Brunick.

  The men laughed in agreement.

  ‘We can, but then we won’t win. Brunick you take guard at the barrel…’

  ‘I want to play, not stand and watch!’

  ‘And you’re going to, but our best bet is to have someone of your size to cover the goal. Alex, Nirm, Lias and you,’ said Cid pointing to an unknown soldier, ‘you guys stay on the flanks, support each other in contact. Jerrick and Bidom, the two of you stay on rotation on defence. Kymill and myself will remain centre field.’

  ‘Trenchwork?’ asked Kymill.

  ‘Enticing isn’t it?’ said Cid, managing to get a chuckle from Kymill.

  ‘Oh and Brunick, every time you recover a ball I want you to charge in as far as you can okay?’ said Cid.

  ‘You got it,’ said Brunick with a satisfied grin.

  The rest of you stay in his shadow and execute a wrap around the moment they start to slow Brunick down. You’ll beat them on the flanks, so the moment they turn in defence move the ball back centre field to Alex to score. Lias you’ll interchange with Alex to prevent them from picking up a pattern.

  The men nodded, Cid hoping that they could remotely stick to the plan.

  ‘Okay, break!’

  The game started again and Cid’s structures seem to disrupt the other team somewhat. After a minute or so the efficiency of their plan paid off and Cid’s team scored their first goal. The other team though didn’t take long to adapt and responded swiftly with a goal of their own.

  What saved it for Cid’s team was Brunick’s physicality. Brunick, still full of unspent energy, would charge at the tired opposing team, knocking many of them out of the way and committing others to the tackle. More than once Brunick was enveloped by three or four tacklers and then when Brunick managed to pass the ball it resulted in an easy score for Alex, Lias or even Nirm.

  The scores remained close until a fight inevitably started, fatigue a quick way to expose short fuses. A few punches were thrown and the rest of the two teams tried to dislodge the fighters from each other.

  ‘That’s enough!’ came Cid’s voice as the two fighters were held in check by their teams.

  ‘Let’s all call it a day,’ announced Cid. The opposing captain agreed and before long Cid, Alex and Brunick were walking down the corridor for the showers.

  ‘Damn it, a minute or two longer and I would have won us the game!’ said Brunick regrettably.

  ‘We did well enough given that we weren’t the greatest bunch of ball players. And besides, a “minute or two longer” would have stirred up an ever greater fight. Fatigue doesn’t do much to help check in frustration.’

  ‘Still…’ trailed Brunick’s voice.

  ‘By the way Brunick, you would have made one hell of a Defender-Guardian,’ said Cid sincerely.

  ‘I would, but who will be watching your back when I’m playing ball? Definitely not snickerpants here,’ said Brunick.

  Cid tilted his head forward to look past Brunick’s frame. Alex was indeed red in his face from silent laughter and was almost verbally incapacitated by the look of things.

  ‘One day you’re going to tell me the real reason you’re not playing Bajural,’ said Cid.

  ‘Yeah right,’ muttered Brunick. ‘Oh what is it Alex!?’

  Alex managed to squeeze out his words. ‘I saw the whole thing… from the side…’ he said laughing loudly now between words.

  ‘The fighters, they… they were on the same side!’ said Alex howling with laughter.

  ‘No they weren’t,’ said Brunick, ‘one of them was shirtless.’

  Alex shook his head. ‘I saw when those guys tried to tackle you… one of them lost his shirt in the scuffle… and fell on his own teammate and then…’

  Cid revved up a chuckle of his own and Brunick burst in a raucous cascade of laughter.

  ‘Nothing like the military or team sports to dumb down the population,’ said Cid amidst Brunick and Alex’s incoherent amusement.

  Chapter 8

  A View from the Top

  Tomorrow the march would commence. 3800 men from Lanston were nearly accounted for, the last still to come a slow trickle of caravans from the south west. The wilderness surrounding the
barracks was now swept away under a massive war camp, a mobile home of many dozens of tents presented in precise rows and columns. This town of fabric had only taken its full size yesterday when the bulk of the army had arrived.

  Stelinger, atop the barracks tower, stared into the far. The sight was glorious. The morning sun’s mellow shine blended well with the manila of the tents, the forest green standards hoisted high and decorating the premises in numbers, standing prideful watch over the camp. In and among the tents were several hundred restless men; sharpening weapons, playing Bajural, or simply lounging non-coincidently near the food supplies.

  The rest of the army however - Stelinger turned and walked to the other side of the tower - was busy training.

  It was Stelinger himself who called for a refresh course on tactics, assigning his officers to segments of the infantry to drill and practice while preparing for the march. Within a few moments of observation Stelinger could discern exactly where each of his Colonels or Captains were, albeit they only were but far-off battle clad figures in the field.

  Even more than what was expected of him Stelinger had an intimate idea of his senior personnel, knowing them much better than the men truly realized. He was, as he knew Cid to be, a keen observer of people and he never failed to note their characteristics. For that is why Stelinger won through on so many occasions; he too was considered a military mastermind, but it was his preying on men’s personalities that gave him an edge.

  Ignorant of this other men were at a loss at his ability to anticipate, some of them worshipping his boldness even above Cid’s well-ordered approach.

  Searching for the man Stelinger found Cid easy to distinguish, mostly because the Colonel was constantly guiding his men by voice. There was also an efficiency about him that was hard to miss, an efficiency that Stelinger admired.

  His gaze fixed on Cid’s company of men and he studied them. Cid was with a group of men he never even worked with before now, and yet their basic training was enough to become a lethal force under his command.