“Beware the ones who actually enjoy the fighting. These people will either be undisciplined, useless troops who ignore orders to satisfy their own battle-lust, or some of the greatest field commanders you’ll ever see.” - Vice-General Publius Cornelius of Caeropa, circa 610 VA.
Unlike her husband, who was a career soldier all his life, as his family had been for generations, Marshal Anni-Al-Bagh of Barca Village, formerly head of the Oiloman military and now one of the Marshals of the Caroman army, hailed from humbler origins. She started her career as a young child barely twelve years of age, part of a vigilante militia group that defended her village since her home region at the time was rather chaotic.
Blessed with a large and strong body – and as she soon found out, a natural talent and love for fighting –, it had not taken long for young Anni to take over the militia group, and soon expanded its scope to include other villages near her own home village. The warlord that ruled the region – Oiloma was splintered into many small regions ruled by warlords who sometimes reigned over as little as one village at that time – soon butted heads against her rag-tag militia and demanded their submission.
They had refused.
More than that, they had directly crushed the warlord’s army – which in itself was little better than their own militia – on the field of battle. As a result, Anni’s group became the de facto ruler of the region she was born in.
Rather than attempt to rule the region, a field where she knew she had neither interest nor talent, Anni told the villagers to choose one of their own to govern, while she’ll just remain in charge of their military, which was where she excelled. The chosen governor turned out to be her own old village head, an old matron who had picked up and raised the orphan Anni when she was young, so they worked well together.
From there, the next fifteen or so years of her life saw many more conflicts, as a region with far too many warlords – any number greater than one, basically – was bound to have. The militia forces Anni led turned into veteran fighters under her lead, as she led them to one victory after another, always leading the charge from the very front herself.
By the time Anni was thirty, there was no other power that claimed to reign over the lands formerly known as the Oiloma Marquisate of the Clangeddin Empire other than her own. It was around that time that their neighbors from Caeropa, who had maintained their stability over the messy chaos that engulfed the Empire, sent a delegation to offer an alliance.
Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.
Part of that delegation happened to include a certain promising Vice-General of the Caeropan military as a sign of their sincerity. Anni wasn’t sure what about Publius attracted her, exactly. In many ways, the two were nearly polar opposites, yet they found the attraction mutual. A whirlwind romance followed while the delegation negotiated with the Oiloman government.
By the time the ink on the parchment was dried when the agreement for an alliance was signed three months later, the two of them already planned to marry each other.
At that time, stability was in great demand. The once mighty Clangeddin Empire was tearing itself apart under the mismanagement of Maglos the Tyrant, and even when he was assassinated very publicly by the Bounty Hunter a couple years later, things didn't change for the better. Instead, his death only drove the final nail in the Empire’s coffin as its various regions broke out into open civil war.
As such, the marriage between Anni and Publius was welcomed as a good omen. Within a few years of their marriage, Publius had worked his way to the top of the Caeropan military, while Anni in turn gave birth to their children while still holding the reins of the Oiloman military. They were often separated for months at a time due to duty, but that hadn’t bothered their relationship much at all.
When their home nations chose to merge together into what was later known as the Republic of Caroma a few years later, the couple had naturally supported the move. Their voices – as the heads of the respective militaries of their nations – helped convince many others and made the union a reality, a move that had proven fruitful in the years that had since passed.
The current “friendly exchange” with Levain, followed by the planned offensive towards the Southern Coalition, would be the first large-scale military operation Anni had presided over in the last decade or so, as most of the time the republic had only faced minor skirmishes over that period of time. Despite her age – nearing fifty by then – her blood still boiled at the thought of entering the battlefield once more.
Naturally, she was all too agreeable to warm herself up a bit with a friendly mock battle against the mercenaries that had made such great changes to the Levain militia. The magnitude of their change was something she found difficult to believe at first, from poorly disciplined peasant militiamen to a cohesive and disciplined unit, if still rather inexperienced.
She was especially eager to exchange notes with the mercenaries after some of the mercenary youngsters handed her kids a solid defeat earlier that day.
Even so, Anni had not expected the devastating power that the mercenaries’ therian-heavy platoon possessed, nor the way they easily shoved aside veteran soldiers like they were petulant children. She was familiar enough with the battlefield to know that even if she struck them from the side, it wouldn’t stop the charge, so instead she opted to race them.
A race to see who can take down the other side’s commander first, that was.
As it happens, she noticed the mercenary captain leading his forces directly from the front, and led her personal troops – all veterans from her days as a militia vigilante who stayed with her through thick and thin – straight for him. Her troops opened the path for her and kept the other mercenaries from interfering, as Anni pounced straight towards the mercenary captain with a gleeful roar.
Her practice mace collided heavily with the log-like staff he held in his paws as they engaged in combat.