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Grave of the Bold
Know Thine Enemy Well

Know Thine Enemy Well

Act 2

Interlude

It was evening in Andaban. The sun had set. The room in the hospital was well-lit, but outside the sky was quickly turning a dark shade of blue, and early stars were coming out. A nurse walked through the infirmary room checking on patients. The door opened and Colonel Dansby stepped through. The colonel had visited Major Dryden every day in the evening for the last week and listened to his story intently. The Major was mostly recovered, but for a gunshot wound that he had taken in his shoulder which was slow to heal. Dryden tried to sit up as Dansby approached.

“No, please, don’t get up, I insist, Major.” Dansby smiled, pulled up a chair, and sat next to Dryden’s cot. “Havelock has ridden as far as the road to Settru pass. He says the pass is open. He has reported enemy scouts. He believes their army is not far now. Perhaps another week or two away from Andaban.”

Dryden grunted and sat himself up, “What preparations have been made, sir?”

“Don’t concern yourself with that, not yet. There is time. You still need to rest, Major.”

They spoke for a time of home. Both of the men were from the city of Marrowick, on the coast of Vastrum just north of the border with Fyranis. They spoke of gentler times, of taking a pint in the pub, of watching the ships heaving into port, of the cool summer breeze and the rains that fell the rest of the year. They spoke of pretty girls in their summer dresses and long braids, and of picnicking among the wildflowers in the green forest during spring. Green was a rare colour in these lands. Rain was nearly as rare. Lovely girls in summer dresses were rarest of all here. Perhaps it hadn’t always been so in this land, but a thousand years of conquest had made it thus. A thousand years of plunder and taking and sucking the land of its aethium had made it a hard land, a land without laughter or smiles.

When they were done reminiscing about home, Dansby grew serious, “I need to know about the necromancer, Dryden. I know Kurush now, or at least I think I understand him. But this necromancer of his, who is he?”

“First of all, he’s a she,” Dryden said frowning.

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There was silence for a moment, Dansby’s face showed the barest hint of surprise, “Who is she, then? What must I know of her?”

“Her name is Aisa An-Beya. She is powerful in her own right, both within their clan and as a witch. She commands dark powers, made stronger by her rage against us.”

“Their clan? She is related to Kurush, then?”

“They are twins. She is his sister. It was not Kurush who forced the initial engagement. It was her. He was content to let us leave, I think. She did not act alone, some of Kurush’s warlords were her own creatures. We know so precious little about them, only what we learned as...” Dryden paused mid-sentence, “May I speak candidly, Colonel?”

“Of course, speak your mind, Major.”

“How does any of this help? We have perhaps a week now before they arrive in force. Would it not be prudent to plan for the fight? To drill soldiers? To…”

Dansby interrupted him, “Let me ask you, at the start were your soldiers well drilled? Did they have polished buckles? Were you well supplied for the journey, aside from the trouble with the quartermasters? Were your horses fit for combat? Were your guns clean and your powder horns full?”

“Indeed, it is as you say, mostly.”

“They say you must know your enemy well in order to win. I think that is true. You say yourself that you had little knowledge of the enemy. You were unprepared for the fight to come. You knew not even where the sword stroke would first fall or who would hold the sword.”

“I pray you are not intending to impugn my honour, sir,” Dryden said defiantly.

“Not at all. Blackwater was a doddering old man. Belfair was a belligerent fool. Good officers had their hands tied by poor orders, neglect, and a lack of knowledge of who their enemy was, or how they would fight. Is that not so?”

Dryden’s silence said that Dansby was correct.

“I will not be ignorant. My men are being drilled now by good officers. We are well supplied. We have plans within plans for the defence of this city. Our brass is well-polished if that kind of thing tickles your fancy. We have walls around the whole of Andaban, which you did not, and we sent messengers south to the headquarters in Kathalamanyr as soon as you arrived. This city may be small, but it is better equipped than Vurun to withstand a long siege. They will be forced to attack. They are mostly light cavalry. You said you spiked your cannons, thus, they have no artillery. If they besiege us, we will be relieved within months. If they attack us, they will be slaughtered by grapeshot and ranked musket fire. They have a weapon, though, that could overwhelm all the plans that I have made. If we are to win, then I must know that witch.”

“I understand.” Dryden said, “What do you want me to tell you next?”

“The retreat out of the city, tell me of that. Where did things go wrong?”

“A better question, colonel, is whether anything at all ever went right.”