XIII

The scout’s news had not been the most pleasing thing to hear. The fact of the matter was that they had an enemy army right there, straddling the border between Kurtz and Helheim, and the white coats were working hard to rectify that, opting to attempt to put all 6,000 men of the army onto Helheim soil instead of straddling the border.

And he only had 400 men to his name…

Holding the fort was a lost cause, what with the large amounts of Kurtz soldiers that would be on their way and likely here in a number of days if they continued to move with the speed at which they were moving currently.

Adrian leaned back in his chair, staring at the newly hewn ceiling of the command office, and thought. On the rough wooden desk in front of him was a map of the surrounding marshlands. It was a crude rendering, done by an artist that had flown over the area in a hot air balloon. Adrian opened his eyes and stared at the map distastefully, the small little rocks and marks surrounded by an ocean of trees did little to actually tell you anything about the swamps themselves, it did nothing to truly tell of the swamps with its ever-changing landscape. Sometimes it even seemed like the trees themselves were moving…

“We can’t hold the fort, not against those numbers,” 6,000 men was a good-sized force, but in all honesty, it was simply a drop in the bucket for the Kurtz empire. Likely this troop was sent out to clear the way and work on getting the swamps passable for the larger forces that would no doubt be coming along behind them. Still, that many men were far more than he could handle here. And while a good group of soldiers could hold out against a much larger force if they were positioned correctly and used efficiently they were simply a token force, placed here to show that the border was manned and nothing else, because who in their right mind would attempt to march an army through a swamp?

Apparently, their emperor was such a man…

“That was my thought as well sir,” Torin said, sighing as he scratched the sub of ear he had, and leaned forward his pipe in his mouth. The sickly sweet smoke drifted up and filled the room, he sighed, pulled one last drag, and then turned the pipe over and knocked out the dregs of tobacco by tapping it on the table with the bowl over the edge. He used his foot to crush the still glowing ends in the ash and looked up at Adrian. “Are we pulling out?” he asked.

“How goes the evacuation of Bronsville?” he asked, not answering the question.

“Poorly and slowly, how else do you expect the evacuation of 10,000 men, their women and children, plus all their damned goats to go?” he sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “I have twenty of my best men on it, but it goes slow and I dare not send any more as we might need them here.” Twenty men to herd and protect tens of thousands of refugees? Adrian shook his head at that.

“Any sign of the initial scouts that went missing?” he asked looking down at the map.

“No sir, their patrol route takes them very near to the main body of Kurtz groups, so I believe it is safe to assume they won't be coming back.” Adrian nodded, moving the small piece of stone he had designated as Kurtz into the location of the army,

“Noted. Is there any more information on the army’s composition?”

“There seems to be a remarkable amount of building supplies, sir.”

“Building supplies?” Adrain leaned in gazing harder at the rock as though it would tell him everything he needed to know about the enemy force if he just stared at it long and hard enough.

“Yessir and it would seem as though they are sending out groups of men to get materials and supplies.”

“How far are these foraging parties going?” Adrian asked, “A mile or more?” If they were sending the troops out to gather resources that far, then a small group of Helheim soldiers could hit the foraging parties, wiping them out before reinforcements could be mustered. No doubt the Kurtz officers would call them cowards, saying that it was improper to not line up and fight in a conventional war. Adrain didn't really care what they said, at the end of the day all that mattered was survival and victory.

“Sometimes further sir.”

“Good, Torin, inform the men we will not be pulling out,” the hand grimaced, not liking what that meant. “And also inform them that we will not be holding the fort either, we will begin strike missions against the foraging parties, harassing and generally bugging the hell out of those damned whitecoats, making sure they can get no reprieve, also send a rider out with news of the situation back to the generals,” Adrian glanced at the map again and glared at the stone. “Send him with two horses, tell him to ride them both to death if needs be.” He looked up to see Torin smiling. “It should take a week or so for any sort of response, which means we need to hold out, doing our duty to the best of our knowledge, gather as much information as we can, and wait for orders.”

“Yessir!” Torin snapped a salute “Am I dismissed to tell the men, sir?”

“Go, we need to get prepared to abandon the fort, ” he said and watched as the man turned and strolled out of the command structure. Adrian breathed in deeply, calming himself before he turned towards Isi. She was busy with a wooden bowl and pestle that she had found somewhere, perhaps gotten it from one of the camp women. She had started grounding up several red flowers in it, making a wet scarlet paste that she worked small bits of clay into until she had it at the texture and consistency of her liking. She walked over to him holding the bowl and he looked at her raising his eyebrow in question. She gestured him over and deciding to just go with it he leaned over to allow her to do whatever it was that she wanted. She dipped a finger in the paste and began marking symbols on his face.

He blinked but let her continue, it took a few moments but after she was done she stepped back and seemed content with her work. His face where she had painted felt itchy and he resisted the urge to scratch for fear of messing up whatever it was that she had just done. Turning he regarded himself in a small looking glass. The paint design held no meaning to him, it just looked like a series of red geometric lines and dots on the left side of his face. Isi joined him at the mirror and did the same pattern on her own face, only on the right side, the mirror reflection of his own.

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

She was currently wearing her three-quarters plate armor. The interlocking bands on the legs clicked as she moved her body to see if she had applied her face paint properly. The plate armor’s straps had been shortened so that they fit her better and between the armor and the facepaint she did look rather fierce. She smiled at him and he shook his head at her. “ I think this would be easier if I knew you were somewhere safe, far from here.” He said sighing at her.

“Ish Salcha Mallen?” she asked, one eyebrow raised and a small sardonic smile on her lips.

“Yes, I am worried for you, as I have a right to be!” he growled, her eyes narrowed at that and she got up and walked forward until she was in his face.

“Ish malken,” she punctuated the words by poking him in the chest with her finger, "torilyn ja.”

“You see,” his hand reached up and grabbed her wrist, “that is where you are wrong, I do own you,” her eyes flared wide in anger, and before she could speak another word he continued, “And you own me, that is how this works, so I am responsible for you and you are responsible for me, so you better damn well get used to me being worried about your safe being, is that clear?” he was the one in her face now, but she didn't back up, in fact, Isi didn't even look upset anymore, her steely expression had morphed into one of soft understanding. She nodded and leaned forward a small smile on her lips as she brushed them against his own.

“Ish malken Torin ja,” she said softly, “Ma malken Torin ja, Torin ja harmusa.”

“I didn't mean it like that,” he said, resting his forehead against hers, “when I said I owned you and you, I didn't mean it like a slave, you should know me better than that...” She nodded and her eyes looked away from him even as she kept her forehead resting on his. “Isi, what is it? There was something more, wasn't there?” She shook her head and attempted to pull away but he trapped her by placing both his hands on her face and forcing her to face him. “Tell me.”

“Inuma memorum.”

“We all have bad memories,” he whispered, “everyone does, but we can’t let that cloud our judgment,” he looked at her at how she was studiously ignoring his eyes like she was afraid of what he would see. At that moment he knew that if he pushed it might not go well for him, so he simply nodded, “We are not done with this conversation, but let's shelve it for now,” she glanced back at him and there hidden under the relief was a sadness, and perhaps even a loneliness, “just remember,” he wrapped his fingers around the back of her neck and pulled her into him. “You are mine, mine and no one else's,” he whispered against her lips before taking them…

***

The Bronsville mayor's house was a decently appointed house, it was not too ostentatious but it was also not too simple. It reflected well on the man in Adrian’s opinion. Bronsville was not too old of a town perhaps three or so generations. It had first been settled in order to exploit the abundant supply of copper ore in the local territory. And while copper had its uses it was when they had started importing tin to mix into it and make bronze that the town had really seen its economic boom, thus the name. Over the years the small mining village had grown to the size of a town that rated a garrison like the one he commanded. That and Helheim’s need to watch this section of the Kurtz Helheim border meant that this was technically Adrian’s responsibility to protect. Even if there had been no rules or regulations saying he needed to protect them.

Which was why he, Isi, Torin, and two of Torin’s fingers were here at the mayor’s house meeting him over a cup of tea and discussing exactly what needed to happen now that Kurtz Linemen were approaching. Adrian had never been a big fan of meetings. He thought them a waste of time normally. He knew that was likely due to the differences in cultures between civilians and those who had been raised in the military. It was clear cut to him, the man in charge made a plan, and people then executed it. That sort of deference both to leaders and to orders however was not part of non military mindset.

Thus meetings.

The mayor of the town was a man named Silus Tinmans, and much to Adrian’s surprise, Silus did not appear to be even remotely afraid or pressed for time. When they had all shown up he had invited them in and had a maidservant get them some tea and a few small snacks that they had been invited to take in his sitting room. The room itself was rather sumptuously furnished and had shelves upon shelves of bookcases, but the thing that caught Adrian’s attention most was the table in the middle on which there was spread what looked like a surveyor’s map, clearly made to show the local ore mines. The map was of much finer detail and quality than the one that Adrian and Torin had been using not too long ago and he couldn't help but shake his head at the sight of it.

On the map, Silus had placed several small tokens, one for the town, one for the fort, and a third one sort of nebulously placed in the swamps further past. “I hope you don’t mind, but I have been taking a look at the situation, and while I might not be a military man I think the path we need to take is fairly obvious.” Adrian set his tea down and traced a finger along the Hylant road that led deeper into Helheim and watched as Silus nodded his head. “Indeed, though I must say it does not feel right simply running away,” he was an older man, his mustachio having taken on some white and gray patches, quivered with the fervor of his words. “I know we are not trained like soldiers, but there are at least a thousand men who say they will stand and fight, is there no way we with your soldiers can hold them off?”

“Bronsville has no walls,” Adrian said, nodding to the man. He admired the man’s determination and while a thousand men armed and able to fight was not an insignificant number he was also quite sure the Mayor’s own self-assessment was correct. The men were not trained, not tested in battle, and without the years of discipline needed to be effective soldiers.“I am afraid if we stand and fight here even with a thousand volunteers, all we will be doing is dying in these buildings and not in the swamps.” The mayor looked rather downcast and resigned at that as though he had expected it but had not really wanted to hear it.

“What of the fort? Is it not built to hold off such an attack?”

“No,” Torin said answering the man with a shake of his head. “The function of a fort all depends on its placement, if it is in a chokepoint then it can hold that point. The swamps are a hazardous crossing, the leveed road that the fort sits on is the simplest safest, and fastest way to move the troops but it is not the only way, if they sent out scouts with poles they could map their way across the swamps in any number of ways. They would lose men those waters can be treacherously deep and not look it, but they could do it. They could also build boats and rafts, it would take time but is doable with that many men working on it.” Torin shook his head. “No, our fort is designed more as a staging ground than a last bastion to hold the line, if we held up there they could simply go around us.”

“This is our home, I was born in this town, the thought of abandoning it to the Kurtz along with all of our possessions, well-” the mayor shook his head, his face stricken.

“Renting,” Torin said, and everyone looked over to the hand. “You aren't giving it away, you are renting it to them.” His smile was decidedly not pleasant. “We just have to make sure the cost of acquiring the property is quite steep,” Silus nodded first to himself then toward Torin and Adrian.

“I like that, I like that very much, how do we do that?” Adrian gave his hand a look, reappraising the man. He had up to this point had a most favorable impression of the man but it would seem that his abilities stretched further than simply cajoling the men into following Adrian’s orders effectively. He saw Adrian’s look and gave a sheepish grin with a half-hearted shrug. Adrian mentally shook his head before turning his attention back towards the mayor.

“Those thousand men that want to fight, do they know how to wield shovels?”

“Shovels?” Silus looked confused for a moment, but nodded his head in answer, “Oh aye, shovels, picks, and any other form of excavations, this is a mining town after all…”