Chapter Two Hundred and Fifty-Four - Joint Strike Fighters
“So, how do you fight an amphiptere?” I asked.
The general hummed, and I was happy he was actually considering my question. Not that we had too much else to do on the ride over. The burden beetles were cool, but they weren’t exactly fast. Stable, and they walked at a very even pace--more so than a horse or donkey--but not fast.
“I wish there was a single, reliable answer, but the truth is that the method will depend upon the situation. An amphiptere is fast, can fly, and can use brutish magics. Fighting them in the air isn’t possible for us, so we try to hit them when they’re resting or roosting. Then the matter becomes one of positioning.”
“You mean like attacking them from above?” I asked.
“Amphipteres make their homes in crevices and mountainside caverns. Those can sometimes be caved in or netted over. Sometimes the beast can be lured out and into a trap where mages will hit them from many directions at once. We have the greatest earth mages in the world,” the general boasted.
I nodded along. That made sense. A people that lived mostly underground would want to have mages who could move earth around. And I guessed their way of fighting naturally relied on that.
The carts rattled on over the bumpy road until the quarry appeared in the distance. The general spent some time conferring with his officers in low, whispered tones. Mostly they seemed worried over how to work alongside the sylphs who would no doubt be there already.
As we crested another small hill, we came upon a trail of wagons and soldiers. Some hundred or so sylphs in lighter armour, with a pair of wagons at the head. They were walking in a neat formation, spears bobbing up and down with every step. That is, until they caught sight of the group of mole people ahead of them.
The two groups slowed to a stop, the moles and I above the hill, the sylphs near the base. To our left was the road leading into the quarry.
I felt the tension rising for a moment before I spotted Commander Warmwood sitting in one of the wagons. I jumped up and down, one hand waving above me. “Hey! Commander Warmwood! We’re here to help!”
The commander stared, then he laughed, a single, loud bark that somehow dispelled the tension. “Greetings, Captain Bunch,” he said before lowering himself off the side of his wagon. General Holey did the same, landing with a thump on the road before he started to waddle ahead.
I hesitated for a moment before deciding that joining them was probably the more fun option. So I bounced down and hopped after the general.
He stopped a good three or four paces from the commander, and then they stared at each other. “Uh,” I said. “Commander Warmwood, this is General Holey. General Holey, this is Commander Warmwood from Granite Springs.”
The general nodded. “A pleasure,” he said.
“Likewise,” the commander replied. “You here to kill that flying garden snake?”
General Holey snorted. “We’ve killed our share of them.”
“Well, maybe we can show you a trick or two.”
“Oh, I’m certain we can do the same.”
I was nervous that things would deteriorate, but then both of them stepped up and their hands met with a big meaty smack. It looked as if they were both trying to squeeze the other’s hand as hard as possible. The muscles in their arms bulged, and both of them leaned into the handshake, which didn’t actually have much shaking to it.
“I’m glad to see you both getting along!” I cheered.
They let go of each other, neither of them doing more than moving their hands open and closed a bit, even though it felt like both of them wanted to wiggle their hands free of the pain.
“I’m certain the mole people can set aside any differences for the day,” Commander Warmwood said.
“Yes, I’m certain the sylphs can let go of some of their snobbishness for an afternoon. I will, of course, be leading this assault.” General Holey nodded, as if it were a foregone conclusion.
“You will be leading?” Commander Warmwood asked. “Why exactly is that?”
“Aren’t our nations allied?” the general asked. “Besides, we have more experience dealing with these matters, and, not to put too fine a point on it, I do outrank you, commander.”
“Yes, I suppose you do,” the commander replied. “Though I wonder about the value of being a general of such a... small army, from an equally small nation.”
“Oh-kay!” I said as I stepped up between the two of them. It looked like they were gearing up to do more than shake hands really hard. “This doesn’t seem like the friendliest situation, so how about we all just... not be mean to each other for a minute or two?”
”We were cordial,” Commander Warmwood said.
“Downright polite,” General Holey agreed.
They glared at each other until I slid to the side, blocking their line of sight. “This isn’t very productive,” I said.
Both of them... well, they didn’t exactly pout, because they were big tough guys, but they certainly wore complicated expressions for a bit.
“Thank you, Captain Bunch,” General Holey said. “I do believe you’re essentially correct. Commander, we need to find a way to resolve this situation. I’m certain we both have protocols for mixed troop actions, and I don’t believe those protocols call for any sort of posturing.”
The commander nodded slowly. “That’s not wrong. Though a little bit of posturing is good for morale.”
They both chuckled darkly, and I smiled even if I didn’t quite get it.
“Let’s move over to the quarry,” General Holey said. “Captain Bunch, is there a staging location?”
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“I don’t know about that, but the Inquisition people did set up a small camp.”
Both men sniffed, then they looked at each other. “You don’t look forward to working with the Inquisition?” General Holey asked.
“I would rather avoid it, yes,” Commander Warmwood agreed. “But I don’t think that will be an option.”
I wasn’t sure if both of them agreeing to dislike someone else was a great middle-ground to meet on, but it was something at least. “We should keep moving then. We’re burning daylight.”
“Indeed,” they both said at the same time.
The general returned to his cart and the commander to his wagon, and I stood there for a moment, not sure which way to go. So instead I shrugged and bounced ahead and into the quarry. The quarry workers were gathering up near some of the barracks-looking buildings. I guessed that work had been cancelled for the afternoon, at least, so they didn’t have much else to do but stare at first the mole people army then the sylph army rolled past on the way to the far end of the site.
I found the Inquisition camp a hive of activity, with soldiers moving crates around and setting up tents on the outside of the camp. Some were laying out stretchers, and what looked like a medical tent was going up under the watchful eyes of an officer.
I found Bastion by the side of the camp, frowning at a map held in Major Springsong’s outstretched hands. “Bastion!” I called out.
The paladin looked over and his frown turned into a smile. “Broccoli,” he said as a way of greeting. “Things went well?”
I nodded. “Yup. I met Captain Ward on the way over. He took off towards Granite Springs. And General Holey agreed to come. He brought a couple of carts worth of mole people soldiers. A few mages too.”
“That might well be helpful,” Bastion said.
“The general and Commander Warmwood don’t exactly get along,” I said. “I think they were doing that macho thing where they try to one-up each other. They both agree that they don’t want the Inquisition in charge though.”
Bastion’s frown returned, but it was Major Springsong who spoke up first. “The Inquisition was here first, and while we don’t have as many troops on the ground, we do have most of the information pertaining to the situation at hand.”
“Yeah, but I think everyone thinks you’re being all secretive and... well, the way you handled the molefolk's letters is, uh, not a great endorsement of your leadership... sorry?”
“Captain Bunch is likely correct,” Bastion said. “Perhaps instead of waiting for delegation of leadership to be settled--which might well take weeks with the hardness of the heads involved--we distract everyone with our current plan, then work our way from there. It’s a simple ruse, but it has worked on mixed-troop deployments before. Each commanding officer need only worry about their part in the greater plan.”
“So, what is the plan?” I asked.
“Perhaps we should go over it only once,” Bastion said.
The commander and the general were coming up behind us, their wagons and carts rolling into place, the dozens of soldiers all forming up into two distinct groups.
“Broccoli, could you invite the commander and general to the command tent? Major Springsong, I’d advise you to remain... quiet, for the moment. We’ll try to set things up as quickly and as efficiently as possible.”
“Got it!” I said.
It didn’t take very much to get the general to come over, though he insisted some of the other officers in his retinue accompany him.
The commander, on seeing General Holey moving over to the command tent with his aides, wasn’t about to be left behind and gathered his own—exactly one more than the general—and moved over as well.
Was there always this much posturing before stuff could actually get moving? The soldiers seemed very focused on standing straight and sometimes jeering at each other when their leaders weren’t looking, but at least the banter on their side seemed almost friendly.
It made me think of the way Amaryllis liked to poke fun at her friends.
I had to wonder how my other friends were doing. They’d be pretty impressed with all of my work, I bet.
No one stopped me from entering the command tent, so I slipped past the canvas draped over the entrance and took in the room. At first, it looked like three camps had formed around the table. Major Springsong on one end, Commander Warmwood across from him, and General Holey near the back. But when I really looked, it was clear that Bastion was forming a lonely fourth camp, without any of his own aides in the background posturing. So I joined up and stood behind him, my most presentable smile on.
“Since everyone is here,” Bastion began. “Let’s go over the situation one final time.”
“Please do,” General Holey said. “I do like being kept informed.” This last was delivered with a glare to the major.
Bastion nodded, ignoring that last bit entirely. “There is a amphiptere near the site of the new quarry. This quarry, as you likely all know, produces a specific kind of stone that is used in enchanting and in some alchemical processes. It’s imperative that we continue to supply this stone for the foundation of the kingdom’s new fortresses along the border. And of course, we can’t threaten our neighbours while doing so. Here’s what we know about the beast so far.”
I listened as attentively as I could, ears ramrod straight on my head, with only the occasional twitch to turn them towards whoever was speaking. But to be entirely honest, a lot of the plan flew over my head.
Well, plans usually didn't last long enough to matter, anyway.
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