Chapter 085. Vol 3 - Fort Acidava:
Birds fluttered overhead as the carts rumbled to their destination, woken by the rising sun. Apparently they would be arriving at the fortress in a matter of minutes. The convoy had made better time than they first thought, at least according to Citrio. Both of the mercenaries were absent for quite some time before they returned their previous night, offering to take a watch while they had some sleep. The sleep that Anton had was pretty minimal, a creeping nervousness set in about how many Goblins they would have to fight. He hoped that he would get by with what he had, but he knew that Cetina had even less. She tossed and turned as constant terrors and flashes kept forcing her awake. He guessed that she had two hours at the most and that wasn’t continuous. However she hid it well. She had practice.
A cry from the front of the caravan drew their attention. The first carts were reaching the top of a large grassy ridge, one they were slowly snaking their way up, and Anton suspected they could see the fortress.
“Guess we’re about to see how much of a mess we’ve all gotten ourselves into.” Citrio said loudly, taking the moment to stretch out his armoured arms and legs.
“I’m rather interested in seeing this fort.” Anton said. If the design was any good, obviously ignoring the fact they needed to retake it, it might be a good idea to pass it onto Zac and begin construction of smaller forts, once they had enough people in Atros. “What’s the place called?”
“Acidava.” Livia replied. “Although it’s the largest one that’s not on the border with the Deweth Clans, so people tend to call it The Fort.” She lightly shrugged. “I remember it always being a decent place to get work. If you wanted to work for the lords and nobles.”
“It beats starving to death.” Anton looked forward again. The more he focused the more diffused lines of smoke he could see rising over the ridge. He didn’t know if that was from a besieging camp or from the fort itself.
“True.” Citrio weakly smiled. “But it does mean that you have to work hard and risk your life if you’re stupid. They aren’t just going to give you money.”
Their cart slowly rumbled up the hill. When they were almost at the top the mercenaries in the carts and caravans in front began to gasp and cover their mouths in shock. Verona gently held his hand and threw him a worrying look.
When they reached the top, and they could see the fort, Anton immediately knew why they were so shocked. A giant six pointed star fortress lay in front of them, the fortress itself was almost five hundred meters across, the outer walls taller than those of Porswea or Nonbur’n. He could only imagine at the effort required to build such a thing. However the fortress was in a terrible state. Several breaches in the wall had opened up and with the hundreds upon hundreds of tons of stone acting as impromptu ramps into the fortress. These breaches didn’t have any scorch marks or signs of explosives, as if someone had simply picked up and thrown the stone in every direction. Anton’s thoughts immediately flashed back to Qaiviel and the Orc, Zig, who used some strange white magic to blast a hole in the walls of Nonbur’n. He and the Yellow Goblin Commander from Mount Aspire had a lot in common. Some of the wisps of smoke were coming from the fortress, from what Anton couldn’t tell, but many more came from a large camp, nearly as large as the ruined fortress some distance away. The whole camp looked like a swirling and moving mass just from the number of people moving throughout it, several thousand at least, quite possibly in the tens of thousands, and many of them heavily armoured Graterious soldiers. Around the camp were several layers of deep dirt diches filled with wooden stakes. While it would make any human attacker into thinking twice he wasn’t so sure about the Goblins. From what little he knew about fighting the Goblins they would just charge through the defences like they weren’t even there. However, they normally had the numbers to make that strategy work.
“That’s really big.” Verona admired the fortress as she leant over the side of the cart. “How long did it take to build?”
“Not that long. Couple of winters.” Citrio replied. “A lot of slaves died to build it. Had to bring in Beast-kin ones from the north to make sure it was done on time.”
Anton tried not to have any expression but he could feel Kal was quite upset. She kept her body completely straight as she overlooked the fortress.
“It doesn’t really matter.” Citrio continued. “That fortress helps, or did help, with keeping the land safe from the marauding Deweth Clansmen.” He glanced at Verona. “I mean no offence.”
Verona rolled her eyes. “None taken. Because I’m not one of them.”
Livia nodded. “Yes. Apart from the hair you’re too short to be one of them.”
Verona groaned dramatically and rested her head against his shoulder as she pretended to cry. Anton played along and brought Verona in for a cuddle, which seemed to be her goal all along. Kal glanced back and continued to scan the fortress in silence. He guessed that she didn’t want to engage with anyone right now, just in case her reaction gave away her identity.
While their carts rumbled towards the rear of the camp Anton turned his attention to Cetina, still sitting to the side of Kal, who had not said a word in some time. She continued to look blankly at the floor of the cart, barely resisting the rocking of the cart. The very brief talk the other night hadn’t done her any lasting good, not that Anton thought she would just get over it so quickly. It definitely wasn’t good to let her stew in her own thoughts like that.
“Cetina?” Anton tried to get her attention. When she looked up to him the hollow eyes faded away into something more resembling of life. “How…How are you holding up?”
“Um. Okay, I guess.” Cetina scratched her head and rubbed her eyes with the back of her gloved hands. “Well, not really. I didn’t get much sleep.”
Anton smiled bitterly. There was virtually nothing he could do about that. Perhaps he could use the prayer power to put someone to sleep, but that was no guarantee that they wouldn’t suffer terrible nightmares and be unable to wake from them. Of course he could word that into the prayer…
“The moment we get back we’re going to sort that out.”
Cetina gave a tiny nod and resumed looking at the floor of the cart. Anton didn’t know what else to do or say. Verona gave his hand a squeeze, when he looked she slowly shook her head. He took that as a symbol that he should stop. He trusted Verona’s instincts that anything more, right now at least, might be detrimental.
Their convoy stopped at the rear of the sprawling camp and they received the order to disembark. The mercenaries grumbled and groaned as they hopped off the carts and into the sodden and dirty grass, churned up by the thousands of people moving about. All three took a more delicate approach down, Anton helped both to the ground, while Cetina simply jumped off, not caring where the mud splashed over her.
“Now what?” Anton asked aloud.
“This way! Everyone from the Graterious Mercenary Guild please gather over here.” A voice called out. Anton turned and saw one of the near identical twins, the one he presumed was standing at the job wall, wave towards them. “Everyone, this way!”
The other members of the guild slowly trudged towards the young man at the edge of the camp. Anton looked around and saw the other guilds slowly group together, the Graterious soldiers watching them with a keen eye. While most were indistinct those wearing red, belonging to the Red Company, stood out like a sore thumb. The Graterious soldiers watched the pack of rabble very closely as they slowly congregated. Anton spied a few sneers on the faces of the soldiers, evidently they didn’t think too much of them either. Did they expect them to run if things turned sour?
“Can I have your attention please?” The guild representative found an empty crate and stood on top, continuing to wave until all the mercenaries had gathered around him. “Thank you everyone for coming. I hope that you all had some rest the other night, because we will be going into the attack right away.”
“Really?” Kal asked quietly. Anton held the same thought, as did many of the mercenaries.
“Our employers, Lord Cassius and the Graterious Empire, need Fort Acidava retaken immediately. I have been told there have been signs of movement from the Deweth Clans and worse still, the Stone Men.” The last thing elicited quite a response from the mercenaries. Anton didn’t know what the Stone Men were, a quick glance down and Verona shook her head while Kal was silent. Whatever they were it was enough to cause great concern amongst their employers. “So this fortress must be retaken immediately.”
A Graterious soldier, wearing a slightly more extravagant suit of armour to the city watch captain they continued to run into in Porswea, approached the representative from behind and tapped him on the back of the leg. The representative looked down and was handed and tightly bound piece of paper, Anton could just make out a small piece of red wax holding it together. He took a moment to read the paper and slowly nodded.
“The next assault will begin in a matter of moments. You will directed to an area where you can safely store you belongings and then you shall be briefed of what is required of you.” A warm smile came to his face. “Good luck and try not to get killed.”
He stepped down from the crate and they were guided to a series of large cloth tents at the rear of the camp. Anton positioned Kal in the middle and gave her hand a small squeeze.
She looked towards him. “I’m alright, so far. There’s just lots of people around us…It’s strange I’m already becoming used to this.”
“Hopefully it’ll be like this one day, even without the mask.” Anton whispered back. Kal gave a tiny nod as they continued through the camp.
The Graterious soldiers, in the far distance, were already getting ready to move out. Each was having one last check over their weapons and armour before taking on very solemn expressions. Out the corner of his eye he spotted the six idiots walking amongst them. They were looking even worse than the regular soldiers, their skin had turned white and they were almost shaking with fear. The reality of combat, and the possibility of death, was truly sinking in.
The tent they were directed to was extremely large and empty, almost like a circus tent. They were directed to put anything they didn’t need for combat inside the tent. Apparently a few rear guard soldiers would watch over their gear while they fought. Anton didn’t think much of this but the only things they had brought in their packs were food and water. There was surprisingly little risk in their stuff being stolen. After they placed their packs to one side, Anton or Kal didn’t want to waste any mana on making them secure, they were directed back outside and into the camp proper.
Every tent and hastily erected building they passed was perfectly aligned, everything neatly positioned and organised. It was nothing like the camps during their travels through Qaiviel. The Graterious soldiers were equally well dressed and organised. They passed small units of a hundred men, ten deep and wide, with a man standing in front of them, dressed slightly more ornate than the others. Though they passed too quickly for Anton to completely hear what they were saying it appeared they were a captain of some sort giving a rallying speech before battle. It appeared to have some effect.
The soldiers began to travel with them now, far more orderly than the mercenaries, as they reached a large open area before the dirt and wooden stake laced trenches. At the far side, just before the first trench, stood a large wooden stage. The wood had been painted red and gold with several large sheets of impressively expensive looking cloth fluttering in the light breeze from wooden corner poles. Two turned towards them and each had a different symbol upon it. One cloth had a giant golden eagle, a large wreath clutched tight in its claws, and the other a golden bull riding on, what appeared to be, a bolt of lightning.
Which one is Cassius and which the Emperor? Going off of Earth’s history it should be the eagle, but it sounds like this eagle is very sick and weak.
A few shouts were directed at the mercenaries to gather to the side of large area. They bunched together, alongside mercenaries from the other guilds, as the Graterious soldiers began to assemble in neat squares. Though they were bunched closely together there was still enough of a gap to see the raised stage. Three brightly dressed people walked onto the stage. One was dressed in an entirely encompassing blue robe, the others wore red and silver. Kal made a strange noise as she nodded towards them.
“Are those mages?” Anton asked.
Kal nodded. “I think so. I’ve only ever seen a few, and those were from a long distance.”
“Those are some fire, water and iron mages.” Citrio said quietly. “If you look closely you’ll see a golden belt around their waists. That means they’re masters of the academy…and under the pay of Lord Cassius.”
Anton moved his head about. One of the mages turned and a tussle reflected a golden light. As he looked more closely he saw that the silver and red mages were women, seemingly of middle age, and the blue mage was a man a few years older.
Verona grumbled as she stood moved about and found a clear line through the mercenaries. “I can see them. The red one I’m guessing is some sort of fire mage?” She looked to Citrio and Livia, who nodded. “Then the blue is…”
“Probably a water mage.” Cetina answered. Once again she had been very quiet, and now their attention had been turned to her she looked a little nervous. “I remember seeing one back in Bebbezzar. They were part of an artist troupe and used coloured dyes in their water.” A look of warmth overcame her face. “Reds, purples, greens and yellows…I loved seeing them twirl and bend the water in the air…back when I was still with…”
Anton knew what she was going to say. He didn’t really want her to think too much more about it. “What’s the iron mage do? Is it what it says it does?”
Citrio nodded. “Yep. They can control iron and steel. So you can imagine that they are quite a problem for us.”
“Can they just pick up swords and armour with their magic?” Kal asked.
“Yeah.” Citrio replied. “So that makes them really sought after by the nobles and lords. She’s probably being paid more than half of us here.”
Anton looked around, seeing the thousands of mercenaries gathered. “That’s…That’s a lot of money.”
It could almost be one of those chests we’ve got back in Atros in a really short time…They are sought after indeed…And it might make them entitled pricks. Or it might not. I hope I’m not going to end up like that.
“Are they in command?” Anton asked. “Sounds like they aren’t military people.”
“If what I heard from the soldiers was right it’ll be General Ricimer.” All three, a quick glance back revealed Cetina was looking as well, looked to Citrio. He sighed lightly. “General Ricimer is Lord Cassius’s nephew.”
“So…What skills does he have?” Verona asked. “Anyone can be born into a position.”
“Umm…I don’t really know. This could be his first time commanding a force this large. We’ll just have to see how it works out.”
Anton immediately felt a little ill. As mercenaries, people that only worked for money, they could easily be seen as more disposable, especially by someone new who wanted to preserve his own forces. Still, if they were thrown into the thick of combat it would be a good chance for them to show off their abilities and get noticed. So long as they weren’t killed in the process.
The iron and fire mages removed their hoods. Each woman kept their brown hair short, though it seemed the fire mage had suffered a few burns to her face of the years. The blue water mage removed his blue hood, he too was a little older than middle aged but also wore a pair of glasses. Anton had yet to see something like that in this world. His mind flashed back to Qaiviel. Alfred had a telescope he used to scout the movement of the Orc and Clansmen invasion. He said that it had come from Graterious and was a relatively recent invention. It only made sense that someone with tremendous amounts of money would have something like that.
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All three mages moved to one side of stage as ten brightly coloured soldiers approached the side of the stage. A single soldier moved forward, more ornately dressed than the others, and began to climb the steps.
“Is that him?” Verona asked quietly, her head bobbing about to try and see through the gaps of the mercenaries. “He looks pretty important.”
General Ricimer stood upon the centre of the large wooden stage in front of the assembled soldiers and mercenaries. It was a little hard to see him but Anton could tell that the man was very young, possibly younger than him, and not an age expected of a general. Still he was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt, at least until he studied what he was wearing. Compared to everyone else his uniform was the most flamboyant, and potentially useless. The base armour was the same as the soldiers but had gold trims and ornaments of dragons, lions and some sort of snake creature that Anton suspected might be a Hydra of some sort, adorning his shoulders and chest piece. At the very least it would encumber him when fighting. At his hip hung one of the gaudiest and impressive swords Anton had ever seen. Like the rest of his armour this sword was covered in gold, and probably never used. A large and flowing red cape swished and fluttered with the light breeze, one that the mages and a few of his guards took extra effort to not let touch them. Anton hopped they didn’t want to get hit by the cloak and not some petulant reason on behalf of the General.
“Soldiers of Graterious!” He bellowed out in a volume Anton didn’t expect him to produce, though his voice was rather high pitched. “Your duty today is to retake Fort Acidava from the perfidious rabble of Goblins that has dared to infest it. The plan is simple, for these Goblins only strength is in their numbers.”
“He’s got that right.” Anton mumbled, Kal nodded to his words.
“The Eighty Seventh Graterious Iron Legion will attack up the middle of the central breach of the fortress and crush the Goblin occupiers under the weight of iron, steel and muscle. Mercenary forces will support the flanks and ensure the main force is not surrounded once fighting inside the fortress commences.”
Anton looked towards the fortress walls looming in the distance. There was some distance between them, perhaps a kilometre, but more than enough for the Goblins to see their approach and react. If the Goblins had a competent commander they wouldn’t just scream and rush out to meet them where they would be slaughtered. Had they not taken into account what could have the destroyed the walls?
“Do your duty to your Emperor.” Ricimer gave a dismissive wave to the men as they cheered the name of Decima.
The thousands of Graterious soldiers began to disperse in their hundred man units and marched towards the fortress, the mercenaries following closely behind.
“Which way are we going?” Cetina asked, her height affording her a slightly better view.
“This way.” Citrio called out to them. He and Livia waved them to the left side as several different shouts came through the chaos.
The mercenaries began to split either side of the departing Graterious soldiers. Anton saw the other members of the Graterious Mercenary guild head to the left side, thankfully the members of the Red Company moved to the right. Several large wooden bridges were placed over the ditches to allow them passage. There were only a few bridges so bottlenecks quickly appeared and slowed everything to a crawl. Graterious soldiers were given priority, or at least they enforced their own priority, so the mercenaries decided to wait and let them pass first.
“This is going to be pretty simple.” Citrio smiled at them as the Graterious soldiers marched by, their large broad shields on proud display. Anton caught Cetina looking very jealously at the large shields. He didn’t know how long she had fought with a shield but it must feel a little odd without one now. “We just hang back and fight when they need us to.”
“No point in overdoing it and dying?” Anton asked.
Both mercenaries nodded.
“That might make things a little difficult for us.” Verona frowned as she folded her arms. She looked up at her spear, the tip still covered in cloth, and removed it. The bright red crystal shone in the early morning light, scattering beams of red in all directions. Many of the mercenaries looked at the weapon hungrily. Verona groaned as she drew closer to Anton. “I know I like this thing but I might need to get something else. Something more...modest. It draws so much attention.”
“Especially since it looks like a giant ruby on top of a wooden pole.” Verona nodded to his words and held the spear tight. He had yet to change the prayer on the weapon and didn’t want to use any mana before this fight. He hopped that no one would try and steal it.
Finally the Graterious soldiers finished passing by and allowed the mercenaries to follow. The bridge was a little rickety and bent and bounced under their steps. Anton looked down and saw the hundreds of wooden spikes in the dirt trenches jutting up and towards the fortress, all placed very close to each other. He didn’t want to retreat without the wooden bridges.
Once on the other side the Graterious soldiers began to reform their lines and positions, an impressive display of discipline and manpower. The captains of the small hundred men units stood to the side and barked orders for the soldiers to form a tight line, shields touching each other to form a single continuous sheet of metal. Other units moved in behind those. These men didn’t wear the all-encompassing metal armour, rather a mixture of metal and leather. In their arms they held small and strangely bent bows, large and fully stocked quivers on their backs. It seemed a simple but effective deployment. On the other hand the mercenaries had no such order. Those with more bloodlust moved to the front, regardless of weapons or armour. Since they were ranged fighters, even if Verona’s blood magic was essentially a close ranged magic, they opted to stay near the middle. Citrio, Livia and Cetina remained with them as well, content to let them and other mercenaries do the fighting for now.
A loud trumpet horn resounded through the air as they began to march forward. Compared to the ordered march of the Graterious soldiers the mercenaries were more of a mob than a cohesive force. Since they weren’t traditional soldiers trained to work as a team it was somewhat understandable.
Verona moved around Kal and pulled on Anton’s sleeve, pointing to the small clay pots on her hips.
We should have bought some better ones. Ones that might not break if we bump into them too hard.
Anton held out his hand for Verona to draw some blood and threw the cloak around them both to shield her from sight. She flickered her power on and off as she made a tiny cut and withdrew half a pot’s worth of blood, Anton quickly healed his wound once she withdrew the blade.
“That should be heaps.” Verona coughed loudly. “For now. I’ll get more once we start fighting.”
“That power is really strange.” Cetina said quietly. “It seems so strange...to be able to do that.”
Verona turned and flashed her a wide smile. “You should see some of the things I can do with it.”
Anton smiled and held it when he caught Citrio and Livia looking wide eyed at them. “We get that quite a bit.”
“Never thought I would see one.” Citrio said quietly. “They have a habit of going…”
“She won’t be.” Anton replied firmly, to which Verona smiled warmly at him. “Ever. Not while I’m here.”
Both mercenaries gave a tiny nod and looked forward as they continued to march towards the broken wall of the fortress. He noticed that they didn’t speak aloud what others were called with her power. For that he was a little grateful, she didn’t like the term either.
“Are you going to use your magic right away?” Kal asked. “That would attract a lot of attention.”
“I…I don’t know.” Anton replied. “I don’t think they expect a mage to be a mercenary, or for me to be able to use as much magic as I can. If we see a big clump I’ll use my magic. How about you? How about your arrows?”
Kal patted her quiver as retrieved her bow. “I just checked before and they’re all there. It’ll be a great chance to see if they actually work.”
If they work well the enchanted arrows could sell for a small fortune. If they sold for some silver each there was a good chance they could fund the purchase of Beast-kin slaves entirely from their sale.
The next few minutes passed in silence. Slowly, as the looming fortress grew, an air of apprehension grew throughout the mercenaries and the Graterious soldiers. Now they could see the size of the fortress and the giant hole blasted into the outer wall many were questioning what they were going to face. Everyone knew that no ordinary Goblin could do something like that.
When they were three hundred meters away from the first of the stones loosed from the breach a short horn blast came from the rear, three short blasts that brought everyone to a halt. As Anton tried to ascertain the reason, looking back to the source of the horn, Cetina grabbed his shoulder and pointed to the breach. A tide of green and yellow of screeching, howling and unbridled rage poured out of the breach and hurtled down the uneven sloped stony towards them.
“Here we go.” Citrio unsheathed his sword and readied his shield while Livia readied her large mace. “Lots of the bastards too.”
The wave of Goblins continued surging towards them with no sign of stopping. They looked identical to those they had fought before. The Greens wore nothing other than a thin rag, many wore nothing, while the Yellows wore raggedy pants and shirts, and a few with stolen pieces of iron and steel armour crudely fashioned to fit their diminutive size. They waved their wood, stone and iron weapons over their heads as they ran over the broken ground like a herd of charging mountain goats. Within a few seconds there were more Goblins than they had fought at Atros and there was no sign of an end to their numbers. Anton felt deeply concerned as they reached the maximum range of his magic.
Are there enough soldiers and mercenaries here to fight such a number? I can’t see anything like pikes or even spears to keep them at range…Quite a few have bows and crossbows but that won’t be enough to deal with this many. Did any of those mages come with us? Would they even be enough?
Two tugs on his clothes brought him back to the present. Verona looked worriedly at him while Kal gripped very tight on his clothes. Anton looked to the mercenaries, they looked quite worried as well, while the Graterious soldiers held their faces firm, but Anton could see the tiniest cracks starting to form on their faces. No one could have prepared them for this.
“Right. Now’s the perfect time.” Anton looked around. “I’ll use the tethered flame pillars at maximum range. That should do the trick.” Cetina, Citrio and Livia looked at him in confusion. Anton smiled to each of them. “You might want to squint your eyes and cover your ears. It’s about to get very bright and loud.”
“What?” Cetina asked, throwing up a black eyebrow.
Anton closed his eyes and focused the mana inside of him. He formed six fire rings in a line, tethered them together and pushed them as far as he could. The rings flew through the ether, beyond sight, and released it as the bulk of the Goblins passed over.
“Here it comes.” Verona pulled her hood low and tight, the others copied her though Cetina, Citrio and Livia didn’t quite understand why.
The charging Goblins didn’t see the stones underneath their feet begin to glow, even as the mercenaries and soldiers began to point and look on in confusion. A second later the Goblins at the front stopped and looked down as their feet started to burn, quickly pushed on and trampled down onto the burning stones by those behind. They, inadvertently, used their comrades to shield their feet from the rapidly glowing stones and simply charged over without a moment’s hesitation. Kal let out a tiny squeak as she used both hands to cover her more sensitive Beast-kin ears as first hints of flame began to emerge. A red-orange flash burst out from the stone in a line as everything was consumed by the blinding torrents of roaring flame reaching over a hundred meters into the sky.
It was nowhere near as bright as the flame pillars he had unleashed at The Gravestone, twelve tethered flame rings, but more than enough for everyone to shout and recoil from the blistering heat. He felt something solid rest upon his back, his hands moved behind and felt Kal’s mask hiding behind his back. Even with the mask and her eyes shut it must have been too much for her.
Anton dared a peak through his fingers, not willing to risk more magic to see through the light. The mercenaries around him were crouching and covering their eyes with whatever they could manage while the Graterious soldiers had crouched down behind their shields, many using the person in front to shield them from the heat and light. A few shouts came through the flames, their captains yelling at them to remain firm and in position. The pillars of flame began to die down but not before he saw the hundreds of small black dots rising and falling in the sky illuminated against the red flame. Many were simply tumbling black embers, emitting a thin trail of smoke, but many of the Goblins were still alive. They twisted and screeched as they, injured and burning, fell back to the ground, emitting a terrifying crack as they smashed onto the ground.
Quickly the flames flickered and wanned, dying down to nothing except for small pillars of smoke. Anton blinked furiously to adjust himself to the reduced light while Kal moved from behind to his side. Cetina groaned loudly as she rubbed her eyes with the palms of her leather gloves and tried to understand what happened, the same for every other mercenary and soldier.
The area had been scorched bright red by the heat, the stones emitting steam and smoke as every liquid and fluid boiled and burned, some had even melted and lost their shape from the unrelenting heat. The area around the nearly molten stones had been burned black. Thin spindly black twigs were all that remained of the Goblins on the blackened stones, stuck forever in terrifying poses of agony. Those that were in the centre of the pillars had been vaporised. Screams, horrific animalistic screams, erupted from their side as the injured Goblins began to writhe in pain. Many were burned black skin or their limbs reduced to black spindly stumps, others only suffered scratches and light burns. Everyone was left stunned by the scale of devastation, just like at the Gravestone.
“Not bad, Anton.” Verona gave him a light punch in the arm while Kal shook her head.
“Is that what you meant by bright?” Cetina asked, her voice a little loud as she adjusted herself to the reduced noise.
“Yep.” Anton smiled back as Citrio and Livia threw each other a disbelieving look. Cetina cursed under her breath and shook her head, a faint smile on her face.
Two horn blasts, one short followed by one long, rallied the Graterious soldiers as they reformed their lines. It had more of a limited effect on the mercenaries but they recovered all the same. Very quickly a chorus of questions erupted, all demanding to know who or what caused the flames. Many were calling the Graterious fire mage as the source but there were also calls saying it wasn’t possible for a single mage, no matter how powerful that individual was.
Another two blasts rang out in the air and the mercenaries ceased their chattering.
“Is that an order to reform the line?” Anton asked Citrio.
The mercenary now looked at him with no small amount of fear. When Anton tilted his head, by the tiniest amount, his eyes shrunk as he nodded furiously.
“Yes.” He barked loudly, receiving a jab from the slightly less terrified Livia. He coughed to steady himself. “It’s just to reform their ranks after a break. It’s not something you hear often from an Iron Legion. Usually they-”
Another deep rumbling from the fortress interrupted Citrio. The Goblins that could move ran back through the breach, those that couldn’t crawled as pathetically as they could manage, as the red hot and blackened stones tumbled down and away from sight. Tremendous plumes of dust and sooty smoke erupted into the air and slowly flowed towards them. More screams erupted from the smoke and dust, ones that sounded like a distant echo.
“I didn’t think you’d be able to do that too.” Cetina shook her head and ran a glove across her brow. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing. “Fire, lighting and earth magic…You’re…You’re just too crazy! Just…incredible.”
Anton flashed her a small awkward smile as the dust cloud floated towards them.
“Stay on your guard and your head out of your arse.” Someone near the front yelled back. “We’ve got no idea what’s happening.”
Anton raised the hem of his cloak to cover his face and stop the dust. Cetina pulled out her sword and held it ready for combat, but it was hard to see anything. Anton focused as much as he could through the chattering people and heard more collapsing stones, with a hint of stone striking wood. Verona and Kal pulled close to Anton, Kal retrieved her daggers while Verona’s hand hovered over her pot of blood. Anton readied some lightning bombs within his body just in case. Thankfully he didn’t hear any sounds of metal being struck or screams of pain as the smoke and dust slowly cleared. When it cleared he heard gasps from the mercenaries and even grunts of surprise from the soldiers.
The collapsing stones revealed a small cavern underneath the stone rubble right up to the base of the fortress. None of it looked natural. Hundreds of wooden spikes littered the exposed carven, some jutting upright with their exposed ends sharpened to a point. A few Goblins had fallen in and had impaled themselves on the wood. They desperately clawed at the holes in the stomach to free themselves but it was no use. It took Anton a moment to process what he was seeing.
“Crafty bastards.” He mumbled aloud, those nearby looking to him as he was the only one speaking. “They built a trap for us. How’d they think of that?”
“Doesn’t look like much of a trap to me.” Citrio said, slightly stammering as he tried to understand what they were all witnessing. “They would have fallen in first.”
“Not if they attack us, retreat, and then we give chase. We could fall into their trap when they knock out the supports. It looks big enough to collect all of us. If the spikes didn’t get us the fall would.”
Citrio nodded and looked forward. The Goblins beyond the collapsed cavern didn’t attempt another charge. Instead they simply watched their lines from the safety of the fortress breach, their bulbous eyes staring at them unblinking as they bared their teeth in anger. A loud screech from the fort attracted their attention and they began a relatively orderly retreat. They disappeared from view, almost to say they were not worth their time, and left the fortress seemingly abandoned.
This isn’t the work of something stupid and animalistic. This is the result of something cunning with the ability to lead and control its comrades, especially from creatures that seem so wild and destructive. The Yellow Goblin Commander tried something different by dispersing its forces and attacking in waves rather than just attacking in a mob. It also didn’t have the luxury of organising a more complex plan. But if there were a few more of them or if they had more time they could have thought of a better plan, something like building a pit trap with the massive manpower they have here. If there is one or more of those things they could’ve used that white magic to make the holes in the wall. We aren’t just facing an undisciplined rabble but an actual enemy force. One our side didn’t plan for.
Anton looked at the spiked pit in front of the breach.
If we attacked like we were supposed to we’d probably all be dead…Not a great way to meet the Gods. I know it’s going to seem extremely self-centred but it’s good that I was here.
Five short horn blasts came from the rear and the Graterious soldiers began to retreat in a slow and orderly fashion. Anton looked to Citrio as the mercenaries began to follow. “I’m guessing that’s for us as well.”
Citrio still looked a little scared of him but nodded all the same. “Yeah. Five short blasts is for a general retreat. Guess they want to replan the offensive…Considering what just happened.”
“I’m sure they will.” Verona said quietly.
Kal groaned as she looked towards the camp. “I think it’s about to get serious for us.”
She strapped the bow to her back and withdrew her captured blade, holding it flat against her wrist. Cetina sheathed her sword and moved to their side. Anton saw several Graterious soldiers approaching surrounding the red, blue and silver robbed mages. None looked particularly happy as they made a beeline for Anton.
“I think so too.” Anton sighed as a small path emerged in the mercenaries. “Let’s just keep calm, and play this by ear. We’ll be fine.”
“This won’t go well.” Verona grumbled. Anton hoped she was wrong.