“For some, life is not the most important thing.” - Old military saying.
Former Royal Palace of Posuin
Oleynuos
Western Alcidea
1st Day of the 2nd Week of the 11th Month, Year 20 FP.
It had not escaped Murad Al-Aswar Ibn Haroone’s mind that it was exactly one month ago that the old General Leung Hua-Jeong met him in the very same room he had been using as his office of sorts and told him of the unexpected setback the expedition faced. Today, a similar situation played out in the same room, except instead of the old General, there were three of his subordinates.
While the old General himself had been reduced to a preserved dead body in a makeshift coffin. It was a minor victory, that they managed to keep his body at all instead of losing it to the enemies. Two of the generals who had gone with the army were not as fortunate. Ishak Mil Sharif’s body was lost when the enemies overran his position following his death, while Liu Zhong-Feng’s head was taken by the foes that had killed him before his guards managed to secure the rest of his body.
“So everything’s gone the way of a spilled chamber pot and now you’re asking me to make a decision about military matters?” he asked with not a little skepticism at the three gathered generals before him.
“We neither have the opportunity nor the luxury to wait for a decision from the south, Your Highness,” replied Zahira Al-Nairi with a bowed head. “Previously I had my orders on what to do straight from the Dragon General, but with his unfortunate demise, you are now the highest ranked commander here in the north, so we are bound to your will, regardless of any previous situation.”
Once again, it had not escaped Murad’s thoughts that the situation outlined by the female general was in fact, exactly as it sounded. As an Imperial Prince he had held a post that was high on the hierarchy, just below the three highest generals in the expedition, of which two were dead and one was stuck far in the south. It was an empty post because there was always someone above him that rendered it so before, but not anymore.
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He was the actual commander in charge in the north at the moment.
“Damn my second uncle,” swore the young prince at the realization. The curse itself was more a common phrase rather than out of any actual dislike against his second uncle, but then again, his second uncle had also tried to get him and his brother killed during the succession war, so it was amusingly fitting as well. “What forces do we have left to use?”
“The remains of the army we brought, those stationed here and in that other walled city further east, and those stationed as sentries in the region we landed,” counted Zahira out in return. “Out of those, morale is horrible for the regular soldiers from our army, though the elites can still fight one. I do not believe we will have the time to gather the rest before the enemy arrives here.”
“And the repairs to this city’s walls aren’t going to finish themselves within the week either,” noted the young prince as he buried his face in his hand. The damages taken to the walls of Oleynuos was particularly heavy on the west side of the city due to the stubborn resistance they faced during the invasion. They managed to repair the damages to the citadel-castle in the center of the city by now, but it would take a month or more to fix the city walls.
In contrast, the city further west – Gestis city itself – took less damage and also had a couple more weeks of time to repair the damages taken. It made for a more suitable defensive position, yet to leave Oleynuos empty and undefended also went against what he felt was good military tactics. Even if the citadel wouldn’t last more than a few days under a full siege, it was still a few days in which it presented a threat that needed to be taken care of, buying time for the rest of the forces up north.
Murad also knew that retreat was not an option for him. Given his situation, if he led the forces they had left to retreat and regroup, it would likely be spun in a negative manner that led to his removal in a more permanent manner, so he knew better than to bother with that. Instead, he just sighed audibly as he raised his head and looked towards the gathered generals.
“Very well, then, I shall do as you requested and take command,” he said slowly, ensuring that every syllable was pronounced in a clear and unmistakable manner. “Unfortunately, while I have the rank, I lack the skills to lead the troops myself, so I will need you generals to help carry out my commands. I trust you do not find that unacceptable since you pushed this responsibility on to me yourselves.”
“Only fitting,” said Xingl Liat from where she knelt. “We are defeated generals looking for another chance, after all, we would not have wanted it any other way,” she added. “Feel free to direct us however you see fit, Your Highness. Even if it means that we would be walking to the afterlife together. We would not complain about it.”
“As general Liat said,” added Aswan ibn Musir, the last – and least, as he was lowest in rank and seniority – amongst the three generals before Murad. “Though I would personally prefer to stay amongst the living and triumphant if I could, a courageous, honorable death is probably the best we can aspire to under the circumstances. If so, so be it.”
“We are under your command, Your Highness,” states Zahira Al-Nairi solemnly. “Though it might only be for a short while, I do hope that we will be able to work well together for the same of the Empire.”