“Martin! Bring 2nd Company north to reinforce the 31st!” Elizabeth snapped.
Martin ran off to get his company. “Got it Elizabeth!”
Nodding, Elizabeth sprinted up to the barricade they had protecting the entrance to the North Ward’s market square. Made of carts, wood, loose stone and dirt, its most significant feature was that it had a large ditch that was doing an amazing job of preventing the Alavari from scaling it. “Ginger, how is the barricade holding?”
“Barely, but we should have it. They’ve pulled back to regroup for another attempt.” Ginger glanced at Ayax, who was crouched on the ground, panting. “Ayax?”
The troll raised her waterskin to her lips and sucked it dry, before forcing herself to her feet by her staff. Ginger helped her up, and quickly let go once Ayax was upright.
“Thanks,” said Ayax in a level voice. “I’m… fine. How long until Frances wakes up?”
“Thirty minutes. We just need to buy thirty more minutes and she can lock the enemy down,” said Elizabeth.
“Good, and once she’s awake, you’re going to bed,” said Ginger.
“Excuse me?” Elizabeth spat.
“You look like shit, Elizabeth,” said Ayax. “Seriously, did you get any rest?”
“Um…” Elizabeth turned away, eyes scanning the market square. “Where are our reinforcements from headquarters?” She ignored how Ayax and Ginger both sighed at that. She could last a little longer. She had to.
“They’re on their way. Our defences in the market square itself are a bit weak, though. We only have two companies and the cavalry,” said Ginger.
Elizabeth grimaced. “I can’t recall Martin now, we’ll just have to hold the barricade—”
“Commander! They’re bringing cannons to the street!”
“Oh are you fucking serious!” Unfortunately, the soldier was. Over the barricade’s rampart, in the distance down the street, Elizabeth could see Alavari wheeling three cannons into place.
“Everybody off! Ayax, Ginger, get back to your companies to the rooftops! Cavalry, dismount and form up on me!”
Elizabeth and her friends vacated the barricade just as the first cannonball shrieked over their heads and slammed into a building by the market. For some reason, even though cannon hits were no longer alien to her anymore, Elizabeth thought that the building would explode. Instead, the building shuddered, a jagged hole blown through its brick front.
Hefting her war hammer, Elizabeth turned to the dismounted cavalry. They’d seen the least amount of action in their battalion, but they were raring for a fight. They hefted lances and basket-hilted broadswords and sabres, along with pistols.
Elizabeth was too tired to make any kind of encouraging speech, but she hefted her war hammer and forced herself to smile. “Right, everybody flat on the ground. They’re probably going to charge. Once they’re over the barricade, we hit them hard, alright?”
“Yes ma’am!” bellowed the soldiers. They were smiling too, though, theirs also reflected quite a bit of nervousness. Did they see how exhausted she was? Did they see how heavy her armour felt?
No matter, she had to push on.
Another boom, followed by another thud as a cannonball hit the barricade. Wood splinters showered the group. Elizabeth could hear the crack of muskets from Ayax and Ginger’s companies as they engaged what had to be the advancing Alavari.
They didn’t have enough muskets to stop the enemy advance. However, Elizabeth hoped that between that and the barricade, the Alavari would be tired and disordered enough for what soldiers they had to hold them off.
They saw the Alavari banners before the soldiers themselves. The Alavari banner was purple, with a white symbol that looked like either a four-fingered hand or footprint. From what Elizabeth knew, the symbol was meant to represent the Alavari species as a whole, as they all had either four toes or four fingers.
Blinking, Elizabeth wondered when did the Alavari soldiers clamber over the rampart. They were just jumping over it now.
No matter, the Otherworlder leapt to her feet, hammer at the ready, tired muscles screaming.
“Charge!”
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Ayax glanced back at the barricade and she did not like what she saw.
Her soldiers were continuing to fire down at the other soldiers from the rooftops. Since the roofs they were firing down from were three stories tall, they’d taken relatively few casualties, and none fatal.
And yet, the wave of soldiers just did not stop. She could see the shots of the Lightning Battalion soldiers hitting their marks, leaving fallen Alavari, or wounding them so that their fellows had to pick them up. Still, they swarmed across the ditch and up the barricade.
Cursing, Ayax turned to her second-in-command, who was reloading his musket.
“Jacques, how much ammunition do we have left?”
“Not much, commander,” mumbled the human. He spat the ball into his musket and drew the rod to push the ball home. “We’re going to have to slow down until we get more ammunition.”
“No, keep firing. Everybody, get your arms ready, we’re going to head back and assist Elizabeth. Jacques, I’m going to confer with Ginger.”
“Ma’am how—”
Ayax, bounced on her toes and broke into a run, feet hammering on the tiled roof. Taking a flying leap, she boosted herself into the void.
She’d run so quickly that none of the Alavari below got a good shot at her. She sailed across, breaking her fall on her feet and rolling, her tail helped her control her fall.
Ginger ran over to her. “Ayax, what the hell—”
“Ginger, Elizabeth isn’t going to be able to hold the market with what forces she has and we’re running out of ammunition. We should go back.”
The redhead frowned, but nodded. “Good idea. I’m running low here too. Do you perhaps have any spells that might change the situation?”
The troll did have a thought, but it made her wince. “I… I could collapse some houses onto them to try to seal the street off, but it could compromise our defence.”
“We may not have any choice.” Ginger looked like she wanted to say more, but instead, she shook her head. “Never mind, just get to Elizabeth.”
Ayax took a deep breath. She wondered what was on Ginger’s mind, but there was no time to ask. She’d have to, as much as she didn’t want to, trust that the convict knew what she was doing.
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They had been losing. Elizabeth hadn’t wanted to admit it, but the wave of Alavari swarming over the barricade was unceasing. It was like a sea of purple sashed soldiers (which the Alavari wore on their arms or around their helmets to differentiate themselves from the Erlenbergians). They weren’t fighting on the barricade anymore, they’d long been pushed off of it. Elizabeth and her thin line of soldiers were backing away, trying to maintain a line, but it was now one rank deep.
Out of nowhere, Ayax leapt into the side of the enemy soldiers. Her first spell was some kind of concussive blast that sent the enemy around her flying. Her company came in behind her, hitting into the side of their foes and forcing them back to the barricade.
Elizabeth staggered her way to Ayax. She wasn’t wounded, at least the human didn’t think she was, but something didn’t feel right about her armour. She knew she got hit a few times, but they hadn’t gotten through.
“Ayax, thank God. Where’s Ginger?”
“She said she would be here. Where… where’s her company?” Ayax stammered. They both searched their exhausted soldiers, all trying to stem the tide of the Alavari. Bodies of the wounded and dead lay strewn around and on the barricade, but there was no sign of their missing company.
Then, running down from the other side was the missing company. They joined the thin line, fighting ferociously. Elizabeth, muttering to herself to stop doubting her friends, ran up to them.
“Ginger! I’m glad to see you!” Elizabeth gasped, clasping the redhead’s hand briefly.
“Same. Is Frances awake yet?”
“I already sent someone to try to wake her—”
Screams from the barricade spun the trios heads. They saw their soldiers reeling back, a massive fireball engulfing several of them. At the top of the barricade, a troll with a wand pointed right at Elizabeth and bellowed an alien Word of Power.
Her life flashed before her eyes. She saw the bolt of magic leave the wand. Her world tilted as something hit her. The bolt hammered into the ground in front of her and the shockwave hit, like a hundred fists punching her at exactly the same time. She flew, scraping across the market square’s cobblestone and coming to a rolling stop.
Ears ringing, Elizabeth staggered to her feet and was helped up by a wobbling Ayax.
“Fuck that’s a mage. Elizabeth are you alright?”
“I’m… fine somehow—” Elizabeth blinked and she remembered what, or rather, who had hit her before the spell blast. Her heart dropped into her stomach, and she flipped her visor open, eyes searching.
They fell on a limp, redheaded form not too far from them. Her left arm and right leg were built at a horrible angle and Oh-God-that-was-bone.
She was screaming Ginger’s name before she rushed to her friend, only to freeze as she had no idea what to do. Only the sound of an explosion in the distance knocked her out of her stupor.
The Alavari troll was still throwing spells. The Lighting Battalion was in full retreat, running back toward their camp, trying to escape the flurry of spells the mage was casting.
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Elizabeth didn’t care. Her exhaustion was gone. She couldn’t help Ginger. She couldn’t help the person who had just pushed her out of harms way.
“Ayax, keep her alive. I got the mage.”
The troll, a poleaxed expression across her normally stoic features, shook her head. “Elizabeth—”
Elizabeth charged off. Her war hammer in both hands. She’d lost her shield somewhere.
An orc charged her, she stove in his face. Another troll tried to hit her with a pike, she dodged under it, swept her hammer into his knees, before finishing her with the spiky end of her war hammer. It didn’t matter how many came at her, she killed them without mercy. Sometimes they got lucky and their weapons clanged against her armour. She made sure that was the last thing they ever did.
The mage noticed her. She wore what was colloquially called “half-plate” comprised of a cuirass and greaves, but her legs weren’t protected. Good, Elizabeth drew her backup dagger, hefted it and flung it, as Igraine had taught her. The steel flew through the air, propelled by Otherworldly strength and slammed into the troll’s thigh. The troll staggered and retaliated with a spell that Elizabeth leapt aside. She continued to charge, bulling through an ogre’s attempts to tackle her. She lost her war hammer in that wrestling match but knocked the ogre out with a punch to its temple.
Ayax was beside her suddenly, taking out three goblins sneaking up behind her. She screamed something, full of fear, that Elizabeth couldn’t understand. It was only until Ayax wrapped an arm around Elizabeth’s waist and began dragging her away did the Otherworlder realize what the troll wanted.
“Elizabeth! We need to run!”
“Coward! I’m going to kill her. I’m going to kill her!”
But Ayax wasn’t listening, she was holding up a dark grey shield with her magic, blocking bolts of magic the other mage was throwing at them. Somehow her grip was still tight enough that Elizabeth couldn’t escape.
The mage broke Ayax’s barrier with a massive fireball, and suddenly, Elizabeth realized how much danger they were in. Alavari were charging towards them. Ayax, reeling from the collapse of her barrier, was leaning against her. The troll was shivering, barely supporting herself with her staff.
“Elizabeth, I’m… I’m sorry,” Ayax stammered.
Elizabeth could hear her heart pound so hard that she wondered why she wasn’t going deaf. Yet somehow, she could Ayax’s quickened, panicked breathing. “It’s not your fault.” Because after all, they were in this situation because of her. Ginger was probably dead. Because she’d failed.
“I… no she overheard us. What I said, it must have—”
“Ayax, save it—”
Battle cries caught the pair’s attention and the Alavari’s as well. All eyes turned to see more Erlenberg soldiers charging from the market square’s northern entrance. Martin led the group, along with his company and others from the 31st.
“That’s not enough, we need to retreat—”
A song filled the sky, a familiar song that made Elizabeth, weaponless, exhausted, and emotionally wrecked, begin to laugh. Ayax, still shaking, barely able to hold onto her staff, cackled, laughing uncontrollably as the Alavari stared at them.
Coming down from the barricade, the Alavari mage, wincing, hissed, “What’s the fuck is so funny—”
The bright flash of a lightning bolt engulfed the troll and anybody around her. A split second later, the sound of rolling thunder echoed through the square.
The Lightning Battalion, which had been routing, were rallying around a short olive-skinned girl holding a wand with blue sparks crackling from its tip. Their eponymous lightning bolt flag raised high behind her, Frances, grimly marched forward, her diamond ring shining like a beacon.
Ripping waist-high wooden shipping crates from the ground, Frances flung them at the Alavari, slamming them into the ground. It was almost like watching her throw a bowling ball into pins. Every hit she struck out, either with large objects or with massive fireballs.
The Alavari broke, retreating over the barricade, but Elizabeth wouldn’t let them retreat.
“AFTER THEM!” she bellowed. She picked up a fallen spear and charged, Ayax behind her. As bolts of magic streaked over their heads, the pair led the countercharge against the Alavari.
Only, they met no resistance. They were in full flight. Just before Elizabeth could skewer a goblin, she realized he’d tossed his weapon away and was on his knee. In fact, many Alavari were tossing their arms down to the ground and submitting.
“Please don’t hurt me! We surrender!”
Elizabeth nearly stabbed him. She wanted him to suffer like Ginger had, and like all her soldiers were. She wanted to order her soldiers to kill them all.
“Liz? Ayax?”
Elizabeth turned to find Frances. She was standing beside her and Ayax. Her eyes were wide, peering at her, questioning what she was doing. What they were doing, as Ayax had her own prisoner, a young troll who was holding onto a wounded arm.
“... Strip them of their weapons and put them under heavy guard.” The image of a broken body flashed in her mind and Elizabeth gasped. “Frances, Ginger’s badly hurt.”
“Over there,” Ayax said, pointing toward the market square. Frances went at a run, as Elizabeth sat down on the ground.
“Liz? Are you hurt?”
Elizabeth shook her head, eyes filling with tears. Unthinkingly, she grabbed onto Ayax and buried her head into the troll’s armoured cuirass, sobbing. Unable to control her emotions. Unable to lie to herself any longer that she’d failed.
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Martin held Ginger’s hand as she lay in the comfiest bedroll they could find for her. He’d run out of tears to cry.
Frances and the healers that headquarters had sent managed to make sure there was no permanent damage, but Ginger seemed almost wrapped head to toe in bandages. Frances had joked that Ginger looked like a mummy, which had made Elizabeth pause briefly in her cry to laugh. It hadn’t been a good laugh, it’d been the broken laugh of a teen pushed past her limits.
Even Ayax had tried to visit, only to stand awkwardly around the entrance of the tent when she realized Martin was there. He was glad she didn’t enter, but he wasn’t going to turn her away. Only when the rain that had started just after the battle, began to come down in sleets, did Ayax finally leave.
Martin wondered how long it had been since he had met Ginger. It seemed like an age, but he already couldn’t imagine his life without her. Perhaps part of it was his hormones or feelings speaking, but the knight hated seeing the vivacious woman he’d grown to love over the last few days looking so broken.
And he hadn’t been able to do anything. He wasn’t there when she was hurt. He hadn’t been able to heal her. Magicless, mundane, Martin could just hold Ginger’s hands, scarred by hours of labour and battle.
“Hey.”
Martin opened his eyes, wondering if he was dreaming, but he could feel his hand being squeezed back.
“Ginger. You… you’re…”
“I feel like shit. Elizabeth… Ayax… are they safe?”
“Yes, because of you. Why did you do that?”
Ginger yawned, wincing as she shifted slightly. “I… didn’t want to disappoint. Sorry. I… I wanted to do the right thing.”
Groaning, Martin leaned over, hand touching Ginger’s face. His fingers tracing the line of her cheek. His vision was blurring again. “I’m sorry. I… I wasn’t there. I…”
“It’s all good. I’m… I’m sorry. I think I got a bunch of new scars,” Ginger stammered, wincing as she did so.
Martin swallowed. He could hear the hurt behind those words. He knew how self-conscious Ginger could be about her appearance. “I don’t care. I’ll have fun kissing them.”
“… you know they tickle!” she spluttered, blushing.
They were laughing and crying. There was too much pain and sorrow unsaid, but they held each other, trying to find a semblance of joy as the rain pattered against the fabric of their tent.
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“Ayax.”
The troll blinked and wiped her eyes. Not that it did much good. The rain continued to stream down her face. Suddenly it stopped and Ayax blinked again to find Frances raising an umbrella above them.
“Where did you get one of these?” she asked.
“One of the stores smashed by the cannons was a parasol and umbrella store and the merchant left it here. I’m just borrowing this broken one,” said Frances, pointing at the ragged edge of the umbrella. “What are you doing out here.”
“I… I deserve this.”
“Ayax?”
“I did this to Ginger,” said Ayax, spitting the words out.
“No, you…” her cousin’s voice trailed off. Ayax heard, rather than saw her cousin take breath. The troll was too focused on the two figures in the tent, Martin and Ginger. She wanted to apologize but what could she say for screwing up so badly?
“Ayax, what happened when I was asleep? I know the battle was rough but… there was something else right? Martin mentioned it, but said he doesn’t want to talk about it. Elizabeth just burst out into more tears when I asked her.”
“How is she?” Ayax asked, meeting Frances’s eyes.
“She’s asleep. She cried herself to sleep. I need to help plan the service in a moment, but can you tell me anything?”
“I…” Ayax swallowed and as best she could, she recounted the conversation. What she talked to with Elizabeth, everything. She owed it to Ginger, she owed it to Elizabeth, and Martin.
She didn’t expect Frances to hug her. Ayax wanted to push her away. She didn’t deserve the arms holding her, but the troll couldn’t refuse. Her eyes filling with tears, she found herself resting her chin on the shorter girl’s shoulder.
“Thank you, Ayax.”
“I’m so sorry. I was trying… I couldn’t… I failed. I got them hurt. I couldn’t protect anybody.”
Frances squeezed the troll tighter. “Shhh… it wasn’t your fault. You were doing your best.”
“And my best just got the people I care about hurt. I failed, again. Like I failed my parents! Why did they even save me when I can’t even help anybody!”
“Ayax, you…”
“Don’t. Just… I deserve it.”
Frances flinched, but didn’t speak as Ayax continued to cry, bitter guilt at needing to be held, but glad that she was being held.
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Frances closed the flap of her tent behind her and briefly wiped her eyes, which were wet with tears.
The Lightning Battalion had started the siege with four hundred soldiers. They started this day with three hundred and thirty-eight who could fight, with an additional fifty-one wounded in recovery.
In one day, they’d taken over a hundred and ten casualties, twenty-eight of them being fatal. Hundreds of Alavari corpses were strewn in Erlenberg’s streets, which were being removed by civilian volunteers even as the rain poured. They’d also captured an entire Alavari company that was being taken to the rear lines and interrogated.
But they only had two-hundred and twenty-eight soldiers left, and their wounded had risen to a hundred and fifty-four.
With Elizabeth an utter emotional mess, and asleep. Frances had made a decision. It was not an easy one, but she was their battalion’s second in command and they needed action.
She picked up her mirror and focused on the Erlenberg Headquarters mirror. She asked the aide to fetch either Alexander or Elowise.
The centaur was the one who came. “Evening Miss Windwhistler. What is the matter?”
“Commander Elowise, my battalion cannot fight any further. We need to be pulled off the frontline for an at least seven-day break.”
“Miss Windwhistler, surely you must understand—”
“I understand perfectly the strategic needs. Please understand Commander Elowise that we have only two-hundred and twenty-eight combat effective soldiers. I don’t think we can last another attack. We’ve been fighting almost non-stop since the start of the Erlenberg campaign with but a two-day rest.”
“Alright, I can look into transferring you out for a moment, but why isn’t Elizabeth requesting this?” Elowise asked, frowning. “Where are your friends?”
Frances knew the centaur didn’t know the extent of the situation. She also knew that her battalion was important to the siege, but her patience was gone. Exhausted by the service for the twenty-eight coffins they’d dug in the market square and marked with stone.
“Because she cried herself to sleep an hour ago. Ginger got two out of four limbs broken by a mage while trying to save Ayax and Elizabeth. Martin is comforting her and I just managed to help Ayax to her bed after she cried into my shoulder for an hour, in the rain.” Frances brought her mirror closer making sure that every detail of her serious expression could be conveyed to the centaur vice-commander. “Commander Elowise, I think you know me by reputation. I also hope I have given you enough information to decide. However, if you do not understand my position, I shall make it clear. If you force us to continue on active duty, I do not believe you will have a Lightning Battalion by tomorrow.”
Elowise blanched at that. “I understand completely. Pending approval from Elizabeth, the Lightning Battalion is to withdraw for seven days to the Windwhistler Mansion staging ground along with the 12th Battalion’s remnants.” The centaur shifted uncomfortably. “I’m sorry for your loss. You did… you performed nothing short of a miracle today.”
Frances blinked. “I’m sorry?”
A grim smirk came across Elowise’s face. “We just got a new intelligence report. The Alavari army focused some of their best troops and an elite combat mage on the 12th Battalion and the Northern Ward’s Market Square. Intelligence indicates that you decimated them and blunted their attack so effectively it’s caused shockwaves through the Alavari army. General Antigones’s camp is in chaos.”
“I… how…” Frances blinked. “That explains why they were so tough. And the mage.”
“Yes. You deserve a break.” Elowise winced. “I’m sorry I didn’t think to approve it earlier. We weren’t aware of the extent of your casualties.”
Thanking Elowise, Frances turned off the call and closed her mirror.
Right, she’d bought them the time they needed. Now, she just needed to figure out how to help her shattered friends. It would not be an easy task Frances had realized, and she continued to mull over ideas as she changed into her sleepwear and tucked herself into her bedroll.
The problem was that normally, Frances was the one being helped. She’d gleaned a few things from how her friends helped her, but the task seemed so mammoth, it felt too much for her to do. They all seemed to feel guilty for reasons Frances could understand, if not comprehend. They all blamed themselves for what had happened so far during the battle and for the argument that happened beforehand.
It was a very strange and ironic twist that Frances was finding herself feeling if not happy, the least distressed by the war. Then again, she knew that she’d always processed the stresses of war differently from other people. Besides, she’d been worried too and was still worried. Her concerns about how she saw her own body, her crush on Timur and whether her friends would drift away wasn’t gone. Those thoughts were just not so immediate in her mind.
That was when Frances had another idea. An idea that was almost certainly going to help, but one that relied on someone else.