As part of their preparations, the Grand Army of Erlenberg had dug earthworks on both sides of the Silverstream River. Comprised of a thick earthen wall about the height of two humans, there were a total of six V-shaped earthworks, three on each side of the river bank with the tip pointed towards the north. Each earthwork was packed with musketeers, cannons and soldiers to defend them.

Frances and her company were, to their surprise, not on any one of those Earthworks. Instead, they’d been placed far on the left flank of the army, along with a mix of cavalry and infantry.

The cavalry stood in front of Frances and her company, who were all on foot. There were about a thousand riders armed with pistols and sabers. In front of the horsemen, with the teenagers and the convicts, were about five hundred musketeers.

Their commander, called Helena, didn’t even introduce herself to the teens. When the group and their soldiers arrived at their position, they were met with a messenger. In a crisp tone, and a slightly apologetic wince, he said, “You’re to follow my troops and shoot any enemy you see.”

“Is that it?” Elizabeth asked.

The messenger coughed, “Look, you’re not really part of our army and we appreciate the firepower, but our plan is to keep the orcs back with our musketfire.”

“Wait, what if their cavalry charges us?” Martin asked.

“You have pikes so you should be fine, and we have our own cavalry to skirmish with them. Look, you kids don’t have to worry. We’re ready for them.” With that the messenger rode off.

Frances briefly thought about what she’d been told and turned to Ginger.

“Ginger, how many battles have you been through?”

Scratching her hair, the convict frowned, “A lot. Um, I was fighting before the Otherworlders arrived. I also did some skirmishing at Meluthen. I was also at Westfall Pass and Kwent.”

Frances pursed her lips, and turning to her friends, pulled them into a huddle.

“You thinking what I’m thinking?” she whispered.

“That you have bad feeling about this and that you’re right? Yes,” said Ayax.

“Well, that and I’m also thinking of letting Ginger take command, or at least be our advisor,” said Frances.

Elizabeth nodded. “Probably a good idea to let her lead.”

“Not quite. She should advise. They are our company. If we let her command, they’ll question our authority and I really, really don’t want that to happen,” said Martin.

They all quickly agreed with the knight, broke the huddle and faced Ginger, Frances glanced at her friends, and realized they were all looking at her.

“Alright, we’d like you to advise on how to get through this,” said Frances.

Ginger blinked. “Me?” At Frances’s nod, Ginger squawked, “I’m a convict!”

“Ginger, we’ve commanded, and we’ve fought, but not in a major battle.” Frances looked the convict in the eye. “Do you think right now that we can hold against a cavalry charge?”

“No. This whole section of the line is going to break,” said Ginger.

“Then what do you think we should do?” Elizabeth asked.

The convict rolled her eyes. “Run.”

“Not an option, we have orders,” said Martin, arms crossed. “Besides, we can’t run when our own horsemen are behind us.”

Ginger eyed the horsemen and sighed. “Fuck. Well we’ll have to fight our way out of it after we hold their charge with our pikes.”

“If we stay close, hold a square formation with pikes on the outside, maybe we can withdraw to the earthworks?” Elizabeth suggested.

The convict nodded. “That’s probably our best bet, but I wouldn’t even think about going to the earthworks. We need to just head for the woods.”

Ayax hissed, “We’d be abandoning our army—”

“Twelve thousand untested, unblooded troops against fifteen thousand of Antigones's veterans? We don’t stand a chance,” Ginger snapped.

“We’ll stand a better chance if we stick to our friendly forces, though,” Elizabeth argued.

“Let’s see how the army is doing first, before we decide where to withdraw,” said Martin in a calm voice.

Frances swallowed. Her instincts were screaming at her to just lead her soldiers away, but that just wasn’t an option.

No, they had to fight this battle, a battle they had no say or control over. One they had a good chance of losing.

“I think we should examine how the situation develops,” said Frances. She took a deep breath. “We do have a duty and we should try to do it, but if the situation looks hopeless, we’ll withdraw.”

There were nods at that, though, nobody was completely happy, least of all Frances herself. She had no idea if she had just condemned herself, her friends and her soldiers to die.

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They stood, or sat, in formation for what seemed like forever, though, Frances could tell by the sun’s movement that it’d been only about two hours. It was still morning, though the sun was much higher now.

Given how wet the ground was thanks to the spring rains, there weren’t any dust clouds. However, nobody could miss the mass of soldiers approaching them. Weapons glinted in the sunlight. Hooves and feet stomped on the ground. They were clearly closing for battle.

Frances watched the approaching force with a spyglass that Edana had given her for a present. The attackers facing her were mostly infantry. They included: goblin light skirmishers with small muskets and crossbows, goblin wolfrider packs, a few groups of orcs and trolls.

As they continued to march toward them, the Erlenberg cannon started to fire. Huge gouges were suddenly carved into the ranks of the enemy army as the Erlenberg cannon skipped their shot across the wet ground. Frances could hear the ships off the coast also opening up.

She turned her spyglass across the battlefield to the other side of the river and blinked.

The Alavari were charging. Orc boar cavalry, goblin wolfriders, centaurs with lances and carbines, raced across the field. There were undoubtedly infantry following them.

Somehow, they continued to charge, even as Erlenberg cannon cut down bloody gashes in their formation, but they only hit from one direction. Was the fleet not firing?

A closer look with her spyglass revealed what was going on. Thick, grey smoke, magical or artificial in nature was rising along the far eastern edge of the coast. It was so thick it seemed to obscure the sight of the ships at sea.

Frances turned her attention back to the enemies in front of her, and found that they weren’t advancing any longer. They’d stopped, and were lying down, just out of effective bullet range. Moreover, now that they were lying down, Frances could see that there weren’t a lot of Alavari facing them.

It came together all at once.

“They’re going for an all-out attack on the right side!” Elizabeth gasped.

“Now can we run?” Ginger asked.

“We have to go to them,” Martin said.

“Wait!” Frances grabbed Martin and Elizabeth’s shoulders. “I don’t think we can change this! We’ll just get killed.”

Martin shook his head. “Frances, you don’t know that. We need to try—”

“Hate to break it to you, but she’s right,” said Ginger, pointing at the other side of the river.

The Erlenberg line was spitting musketballs, and hundreds of Alavari riders were dead. And yet, the charge didn’t stop. A wave of panic spread through the Erlenberg line as the Alavari army, moving like one great beast, cut into their foes. They clawed through the lines of footsoldiers and musketeers, cutting down fleeing troops. Some squads and companies tried to rally around flags and standards, but the orc war pigs and centaurs surrounded them, and crushed them beneath their hooves. Meanwhile, as harpies harassed the gunners firing from the earthworks, goblins and trolls scaled the fortifications, leaping onto the platforms and attacking the soldiers manning them.

Tearing her eyes from the scene, Frances could see the other soldiers' shock, could see her own convict soldiers nervously backing glancing at each other.

The horsemen behind them? They were running, riding away toward the direction of Erlenberg. Small squads at first, and then full companies. Frances could see officers shouting at their soldiers, but they weren’t being listened to.

“Where’s the general?” Martin asked. Frances couldn’t see the general’s standard. It should have emblazoned the Erlenberg coat of arms, a city surrounded by ocean. Only, that standard was fleeing, with the cavalry.

Elizabeth stammered, “They’re abandoning us.”

Frances grimaced. “Withdraw to the camp! Everybody together!”

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

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The camp on the left side of the river was chaos. Alavari and humans were grabbing food, supplies, anything really. Frances, her friends, and their company only just managed to get out of the mess thanks to having packed their supplies into two large wagons.

“How long until we get to Erlenberg?” Ginger asked.

“Five days. Assuming we can outrun their cavalry,” Martin muttered, panting heavily. The teens all had horses, but they didn’t want to exhaust their animals. Not unless they got into trouble.

That and Frances and Elizabeth had hitched their horses to the wagons they’d borrowed. Every convict-soldier carried food, but the wagons carried the rest of their supplies and more importantly, ammunition.

“Elizabeth, you and Martin were studying the maps. Do you think we can outrun their cavalry?” Frances asked.

Elizabeth and Martin exchanged glances, before Martin said, “If we get to the forest tonight, we might stand a chance. They’ll have to sleep too.”

“Tomorrow, we should try to rally as many soldiers as we can and try to make a stand there, slow them down a bit,” said Elizabeth.

“Wait, slow them down? How are we going to do that?” Frances asked.

“Guerilla tactics. We hit, and disappear back in the forest,” Elizabeth explained.

“They outnumber us, though, Elizabeth,” said Frances.

Martin looked back from where he was marching. “We need to do something. They will reach the walls of Erlenberg and they will not hold. I know you want everybody to stay safe, but if we retreat now the fighting will move into the city.”

“I understand but…” Frances thought about the decision, tried to think through the possibilities, but honestly she had no idea how to act, and what to do in this situation. “Ayax, what do you think?”

“I have even less combat experience than you three. So I think we should ask the professional here,” said Ayax, thumbing at Ginger.

The convict seemed to panic for a second, before swallowing. “Um, yeah about that. I’d run for the city, but… if you really want to fight, I’d rather fight in a forest than at the city. City-fighting is brutal.”

“Forest it is then,” said Elizabeth. Martin nodded after her, and was followed slowly after by Frances and Ayax.

Ginger watched this and frowned. Coughing, she walked ahead of the teens and turned around.

“Holdup, who here is actually in charge? I thought it was you who was in charge,” said Ginger, pointing at Frances.

“Me? Oh no. I… I’m not in charge. We… we make decisions together,” Frances squeaked, waving her arms.

“Well, we do agree with you a lot, cuz, but that’s because you tend to have a pretty good head on your shoulders,” said Ayax.

“Except you seem to trust… Elizabeth and Martin right?—Yeah, you trust them with military stuff. So who will be making the call in battle?”

“Elizabeth,” said Frances and Ayax.

“Frances,” said Elizabeth and Martin. The four stared at each other as they realized what they all had said.

“Elizabeth, you are good at leading troops. I saw you at Freeburg, you had everybody rallied to you and following your lead,” said Frances.

Elizabeth shook her head. “But you came up with the plan, and I’m the youngest of everybody here! You come up with all of our plans!”

“Yes, but you lead us through them, Elizabeth,” said Frances.

Martin nodded. “Actually Frances is right. I think it should be Elizabeth too.”

“Wait seriously?” Elizabeth stammered. The only reply she got was a bunch of nods.

“So that’s decided. Elizabeth has final say then,” said Ginger. “What are your orders?”

Elizabeth took a moment to brush her hair out of her eyes, and stand straighter.

“Get to the trees. We’ll find as many people as we can and rally them to our cause. Then we’ll delay the Alavari army as long as we can.”

“Aye,” said Frances, gently clasping and squeezing her friend’s shoulder.

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The company had just reached the edge of the Pinewoods when Frances felt her hand mirror vibrate. Reaching into her belt, she pulled out the mirror to find the face of her Grandmother staring back at her.

“Oh Gods of Sea and Sand, Frances, you’re alive. Where’s Ayax and your friends?” Eleanor stammered.

“We’re all alive. We’re going to the Pinewoods. We’re going to try to slow them down as much as possible.

“How many do you have?” Eleanor asked.

“A company, but we think we can gather more soldiers and use the Pinewoods to our advantage. Grandma, you need to reinforce the city’s defenses and evacuate the civilians. General Antigones is on his way to the city.”

“I’ll do that. But please, in the meantime, stay safe.” Eleanor pursed her lips. “Call you mother. You need to let her know. You know…”

“I will.” Frances glanced ahead at the treeline. “When I get the chance. Thanks, Grandma.”

“Good luck, Frances.”

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The Pinewoods existed in Erlenberg for one reason and one reason only, to provide a ready supply of ship-quality woods for the repair of Erlenberg’s many ships. This was why the majority of the woods were the eponymous pine, firs, oak and teak.

So unlike a typical forest, where the ground is bumpy and curled with tree roots and boulders, where bushes grow at the foot of trees and smaller shrubs and fallen trees split the undergrowth, and where squirrels, birds and all manner of animals frolic, the Pinewoods were… different.

The best way Frances could describe it was that there was a kind of ‘fake’ feeling to the woods. She remembered being in Leipmont’s forests and to a national park in one of her school trips. The woods here seemed more open, with very clear paths running between clumps of trees. The sound of animal life wasn’t there and there were places where she could see quite far into the forest. This was because the trees were all the same size and type and all planted with fairly uniform spacing.

They also weren’t alone. The first night they were in the forest, Frances had been on guard with their sentries, and several squads of soldiers joined them, drawn by their campfires.

The next day, as they marched deeper in, they ran into more hungry and tired soldiers. Most only had their weapons and the clothes on their back. Some didn’t even have that. They didn’t care that they were agreeing to follow a bunch of teens leading a group of convicts, they just wanted to be safe and fed.

By mid-afternoon, their company had tripled in size to a force of over three hundred as they had picked up a group of musketeers who’d fled, along with another group of footsoldiers. The teens had enough soldiers to send a scouting party to find a fjord so they could get across the river.

Frances was leading this scouting party of ten foot soldiers along the riverbank, with Ayax bringing up the rear. Martin and Elizabeth had told them that there was a bridge ahead they needed to secure.

As they approached the bridge, Frances’s eyes scanned the surroundings. The bridge itself was a sturdy structure of stone, with low, interspersed columns, carrying the arched structure over the wide river. It had no railings, and divots in the stonework showed its frequent use.

Taking a deep breath, Frances signalled for her squad to halt, pushed magic into her barding and ran across.

Nobody shot at her, nobody showed themselves. She reached the other side without harassment. Even after a brief lookaround, she couldn’t find anybody else. Seeing the area was clear, she signalled the rest of her squad to come.

“Stay alert and set up a perimeter. Can one of you go back and tell Elizabeth to bring the rest of our troops up?” Frances asked.

“Aye ma’am,” said one of the convict soldiers, a lithe girl who couldn’t have been more than Frances’s age.

“Just Frances, thank you.” She peered back into the forest, crouching low close to a tree, watching the silent forest.

“Ma’am—Frances, is it true you’re an Otherworlder?” asked one of the convicts, a grizzled, muscular man in an awkward fitting helmet.

“Yes. Though, some of us like to call ourselves, the Displaced,” Frances explained.

“Is it true that your world has flying machines and not a single Alavari? That even poor people own two story houses?” he asked.

“Yes. Though, we do have… less fortunate people in our world.” Frances smiled. “What’s your name.”

“Gareth. Used to be a farm hand. You know, times got tough, debts piled up,” he sighed. “Don’t have a home to go back to, unlike you, but at least my family’s safe.”

Frances winced. “Durannon is my home. I’m one of those… less fortunate Otherworlders.” She glanced back at the forest and narrowed her eyes. “Look sharp. Someone’s approaching. Hold your fire.”

The squad pressed against the trees, peering at the approaching figures.

There were Alavari and humans, about twenty. All of them were out of breath, crashing through the woods on horses so tired they were foaming at the mouth. They were heading right toward them and were nearing their position.

Frances stepped out, her wand raised. “Are you of Erlenberg?”

The riders yanked on their reigns, staring at her. “Yeah. Who—the hell are you?” one asked.

“Frances Windwhistler, Otherworlder mage,” said Frances.

“Well mage or not we need to get away. We’re being pursued by goblin wolf-riders,”

“How many?” Frances asked.

“Fifty. So unless—”

“Gareth! Tell Elizabeth that the bridge is going to be contested by fifty wolf-riders and I need reinforcements!” Frances turned to the riders. “We have three companies heading this way. Were there any behind them?”

The riders blinked and shook their heads. “No-"

“Then dismount and get your carbines ready. We’re going to hold the bridge until our allies arrive," said Frances.

Ayax smirked. “Or you can run like you did a few days ago.”

The riders flinched and dismounted, taking positions alongside the rest of the squad.

Frances pulled Ayax aside. “Ayax can I ask you something?”

“Too on the nose?” the troll asked.

Frances blinked, realized her cousin was talking about her comment and shook her head. “No, I think you were right. If you went further I would have been worried. What I wanted to ask you about was if you have any spells that affect a large area?”

“None, but I can fire a pretty good bolt of magic,” said Ayax.

“Alright. Everybody, fire at will, but pick your shots! Save your ammunition.” Frances pulled out her spyglass and scanned the tree.

Then she saw it, wolves bounding over the undergrowth, weaving between trees.

Goblin wolf-riders were amazingly mobile scout cavalry. Armed with shortbows, but also increasingly pistols, Frances knew they’d have to get very close to get their shots off. What they relied on were numbers and psychology.

It was rather terrifying when an unnaturally large wolf charges toward you after all, especially when they are carrying a rider.

Frances however, planned to turn the tables. Ivy’s Sting in hand, she began to sing.

Ayax glanced at her cousin as she recognized the aria. As it always was, there was a primal quality to it. It was hard to pin down why. If she had to say, though, Edana’s song sounded a lot like a shriek, a banshee or ghost venting its anger. Frances’s aria however, was somehow more delicate, reedier and almost mournful, as if the notes she chose would never be resolved.

Until the last chord, followed by a thunderous crack that blinded the soldiers. Ayax blinked away spots to see the wolf riders in disarray, their mounts cowering, fleeing in all directions, out of control.

“Fire!” Ayax bellowed, she threw her first spell, smashing a goblin into a tree with a sickening thud. The convict soldiers and the cavalry added their own fire, and the quiet forest became split with the crack of muskets.

In the forefront stood Frances, throwing rocks at the goblins with force enough to split armor, sending bolts of fire that made wolves howl. Soon, the goblin riders fled, much of their number down and groaning.

“By Amura and Rathon, we won!” gasped a convict-soldier.

“Ahahah look at them run!” exclaimed a troll rider.

Frances took a quick sip from her hip flask. “Reload and ready for a counterattack. Keep your eyes peeled. Does anybody see our reinforcements?”

“We’re here!” Elizabeth yelled, at the head of a marching column of soldiers. She rode across the bridge, dismounted and blinked. “Oh? You ran into some friendly cavalry.”

“Survivors from the first day. How many did you bring?” Frances asked.

“One company. The rest are bringing up our supplies. They’ll be here in ten minutes. The horses can’t go any faster than that,” Elizabeth swallowed. “We have a problem, though. We saw some troll and orc foot scouts. So we don’t know how many we are being pursued by.”

“You said you fought about fifty wolf riders?” Ginger asked, jogging up to them.

“Yeah, why?” Frances asked.

Ginger grimaced. “There may be more behind them. Goblin wolf-riders are great scouts but they wouldn’t have attacked unless they knew they had serious back up. We’re talking about orcs on war pigs or even a full regiment of foot soldiers with archers and musketeers.”

Frances winced. “So we need to decide if we want to hold the bridge so we can cross it or retreat and keep on the west bank of the river.”

Elizabeth pursed her lips. “We hold the bridge. It’s only ten minutes and we need to get to the west bank.” She glanced at Ginger, “You don’t agree. Why?”

Ginger stiffened and her eyes narrowed. “Look. I get that we need to get to the west bank, but we don’t want a fight. We can fight, but we really don’t want to get into one.”

Elizabeth shook her head. “You’re right, but Erlenberg’s west side faces the Silverstream and is defensible. They don’t need us there. However, Erlenberg’s north doesn’t even have a moat. We need to slow them down from reaching there.”

“Elizabeth, you’re right, but we have enemy forces behind us too. What if we get sandwiched between the two?” Frances asked.

Elizabeth frowned, “Ayax?”

The troll swallowed, tail swishing back and forth. Looking Elizabeth in the eye, she said, “Liz, I don’t know. Just do what you think is best. I trust you.”

Elizabeth blinked, and stared at Ayax for a second, unmoving, until the troll broke contact, looking away.

“Thanks, Ayax.” Elizabeth closed her eyes. “Here’s what we’ll do.”