Jason slammed his fist down on the table, almost spilling the ink well near his map. Tyler reached out to stabilize it quickly, and looked up to see the frustration in his King’s face.

The town the enemy was approaching was marked with a small dot on the map, and several small chunks of wood indicated the enemy column. They had been extraordinarily successful at their harrying attacks. The enemy must have been marching on nearly empty stomachs, and Jason had a small scout force that was dedicated to either removing all the supplies from the farms they were marching by, or burning what they couldn’t salvage to deny it to the enemy. Unity’s forces had also suppressed the enemy scouts to the point that Jason’s group could travel with impunity around the enemy column, just out of sight and earshot. They rarely let an hour go by without taking a few shots into the now bedraggled force, then melting away before a response could be organized.

A full third of the enemy forces had disappeared, either dead, wounded, or deserters. The grim looks of the remaining faces spoke of a belief that more was inevitable.

For all that, Jason knew it wasn’t enough. He couldn’t afford to trade men against a superior force to defend a town that had no real walls or fortifications. From his scouts' reports, he could not think of a way to save the place. With a heavy heart, Jason turned to Tyler and gave his orders. “Evacuate the town. Build a fire and destroy any foodstuffs the townspeople can’t carry away.”

Jason stood up, and looked Tyler in the eyes. “One more thing… ”

—

The last of the townspeople were being herded out of the far side of the village a few of Jason’s scouts less than an hour before the sun set. The town only had 2-3 dozen houses and a small assortment of other buildings, mostly of primitive construction and thatched roofs, though Jason had seen signs that his burgeoning lumber export business had reached this far already, in the form of a few homes made out of regular planks.

A fence surrounded the area, made of poles the width of a man’s hand and woven branches, and used as much for keeping the animals and children in as for keeping any threats out. It could hardly be called a wall, though it would delay any attack over or through it, and Jason had debated pulling sections of it down. Ultimately, they had decided it would look too suspicious, so they left it as it was, with only an opening at the front and rear of the village.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

Jason and his men waited with varying degrees of patience, lying down or sitting hidden several hundred yards into the woods, divided into one group for each entrance. Dusk slowly set in, and finally, the enemy came into view.

The forward scouts were within throwing distance of the head of the column, if a column it could be called. The once proud army was disorderly and evoked an air of grim weariness that Jason’s men could practically taste. The scouts paused as they reached the walls, then returned to the column, which had stopped at the edge of the forest. Jason waited as they conferred, then the scouts proceeded forward with several other groups of men.

It didn’t take long for shouts to be heard back and forth in the distance, and while the contents weren’t clear to Jason, soon a few of the soldiers headed back towards the main column. After a few more seconds of conferring with the leadership, the army first walked, then ran towards the buildings, hoping to get whatever supplies and loot they could, and perhaps more importantly, a place with a roof to spend the night.

It didn’t take long for celebratory shouts to turn to angry ones - or at least that’s what it seemed like to Jason. He grinned, and settled in for a few more hours of waiting.

—

It was an attempted desertion that set it all off, Jason would later learn. The noise from the town had begun to quiet down after the looting had been finished without finding supplies, significantly dampening the celebratory mood that the army would have otherwise felt.

As Jason was debating when he should give the order to set things off, A yell on the far side of the village was followed by one gunshot, then another. The night was abnormally silent for a few moments before Jason’s mind registered what was happening and he gave the command in a strong voice. “Go, go, go, go! Set it ablaze, NOW!”

It took more than a few more moments for his designated throwers to leap up and sprint towards the wall, lobbing their explosive projectiles towards the thatched roofs - roofs that had been soaked in as much oil as could be scavenged by Jason’s men the day before.

The men were running back as if their lives depended on it before explosions rocked the night once more, and fingers of flame reached towards the sky.

“Hold your fire,” Jason reminded his men who were scanning the town entrance and wall with their weapons. It wasn’t long before the runners rejoined their ranks. “Alright. Now, fire at will when you see the enemy. Remember, make your shots count.”

Sporadic gunfire came from the other group, and Jason desperately wished to know what was going on.