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Lure O' War (The Old Realms)
419. Lorian Plains | Long farewell

419. Lorian Plains | Long farewell

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Lucius Alden,

‘Bloody Tiger’

Lord Lucius Aldenus the third,

Praetor Maximus,

King Lucius III

Lorian Plains | Long farewell

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Early dawn on the 13th of Primus

III Legio HQ ‘Field Tent’ (field watchtower & command tent)

Army center

150 meters from Holt’s Stables ruined fortifications blocking main street

Half a kilometer from the town’s center

End of detailed morning briefing for all high-ranking officers or their aides

All them men you’ll kill, the mutilated ghost of old Roderick had told him many years back. Some names you’ll remember, most you won’t. They are standing in this field. Far as the eye can see.

Dottore Marianus worked on securing the armbrace in a protective sling, a thoughtful Lucius staring at the units placed on the map and Tribune Galio Veturius retouching on the points they hadn’t reached a consensus on again. Trupo and Draco were present earlier but Draco had left along with Durio. The first needed to ride near Lepidus’ Century holding the east flank of 3rd Cohort and the nearest unit to Merenda who was out of range having moved his command inside the forest. The second had left an aide back to inform him of the King’s decision and returned to his engineers to prepare for a potential 4th day of bombardment.

“Merenda expects an attack to relieve his south flank,” Veturius continued, the pain from his injured arm gnawing at Lucius and his mood worsening the last couple of days. “Centurion Dio reports he doesn’t have eye contact with the rest of the 2nd Cohort’s Centuries so we must assume Merenda has pressed forward yet again.”

He turned to the aide moving the unit figurines on the map and everyone stooped forward to see where Merenda had ended up according to the latest field reports arriving during the night.

“The south warehouse is burning, smoke can be seen billowing over the town center,” the aide explained to justify his new positions. “With smoke clouds coming from the north warehouse and nearby buildings we assume at least one Century has made it very close to the road behind the town with fighting inside the town itself underway.”

“Nasica is scouting north of the Grass Sea,” Veturius added. “But I informed Lepidus to create a new east flank in case something slips them by. Brevis with Long and Gaeta can hold the west flank easy. We overloaded that flank milord.”

Lucius rubbed the trimmed beard on his face with his right hand and the Dottore stood up satisfied with his work.

“Leave it be,” he finally said. “Antonius’ pincer might cut Betto off completely.”

“As I predicted, we’ll learn about the Centurion’s personal strategy after the fact,” Veturius grunted.

“We asked him to control the east flank and he did,” Lucius replied tiredly. “Trying to cut the road is an excellent follow up strategy.”

Veturius grimaced. “He has left Nasica exposed. Someone needs to remind him he’s not running the whole Legion.”

“Nasica has Logan to his flank and is with a highly mobile professional force. He won’t risk anything. I trust him to know what he’s doing and those two have worked together excellently in the past.”

Both men appreciate having a lot of room to do their own thing and keep out of each other’s backyards.

It was why Lucius had kept them together.

“The barricades are destroyed milord. Cement and dirt blasted away and the timber fences broken apart. Shelling has even ruined the gravel roads in some sections,” Veturius said changing the subject. Talking about Merenda always pissed off the Tribune something fierce. “Houses on both sides of the street lay in ruins, three buildings deep. Durio only fired catapults and trebuchets yesterday, everything else is out of range unless he brings the machines behind the barricades themselves.”

“Frugus retreated further inside?”

“He better,” Trupo commented, moving his mustache about. “Else he might not have much of a force left. Seems that way.”

Nah.

“Don’t expect mistakes,” Lucius cautioned them. “These are trained officers with long careers and experienced men. They won’t passively get killed by shelling.”

“Maybe then cease the action milord?” Veturius queried and Lucius grimaced. “The men are rested. The weather cleared. They can attack in twenty minutes.”

“Where are the machines?”

It was the Tribune’s turn to grimace. He managed it effortlessly. “Blown up to smithereens milord?”

Not good enough.

They had no confirmation of this.

“Betto has a lot of horses. We haven’t seen them since Gripa was killed,” Lucius reminded him. An awkward silence befell the tent. It was broken from the soldier climbing up the small wooden tower they had erected next to it to better observe the battlefield.

“Runner!”

“See who it is from,” Veturius told the silent Ramirus and he nodded opening the rough canvas flap to step outside.

“It’s a bit early. I bet it’s from Silvius. Caught him freezing his balls off all night,” Trupo commented. “By the way sir, Colt asked to bring the Castrum nearer.”

“No,” Lucius retorted. “But he can pack up what he doesn’t need on the wagons. I was told many have stayed in the old huts there.”

“Caused a bit of drama with some local hunters’ sir,” Trupo replied. He then used both gloved hands to straighten the edges of his great mustache first, afore twisting them back into hooks. One could watch the Prefect doing that for hours as he was that good at it.

“Did they have permission to stay in the facilities?”

“Negative, but it was cozy given the weather Maximus.”

“Who actually has a say around these parts?” Veturius wondered aloud. Technically neither Mercator’s nor Holt’s lands reached that far. Administratively while Asturia and Islandport (of course the capital also) benefited the most from the Tunnel Pass, Storm’s Rest should have the lands, Lucius decided.

“The King?” Trupo teased him with a chuckle.

“Silvius wants the men to march forward inside the town,” Ramirus reported returning from outside. “Falx has his men ready as well. The terrain has improved. Frugus has sentries patrolling the road but he’s retreated about fifty meters more during the night. They abandoned this part of the fortifications your grace.”

Lucius got up to better see the huge map of the local area opened on the table. It was covered with miniature curved soldiers representing units, colored banners and figurines of cavalry or machines.

“We know they still defend east near Merenda,” Lucius said and moved his index finger over the map. “They control Brushwood.”

“Gaeta can push inside there with Brevis supporting him,” Veturius replied. “Long is on their flanks and has huge advantage in cavalry. As a matter of fact he plays hide and seek with those scouts for a week.”

“The machines could hide in there.”

“Durio can shell them for a bit, see if anything flushes out, but machines are useless in a forest milord.”

That was true.

“You think he pulled them towards Mercator’s Inn?” Lucius asked.

“Milord I’d like a word alone,” Veturius retorted gruffly.

“For a personal matter?” Lucius asked raising a brow.

“In a sense aye, milord,” the Tribune replied returning his stare steadily. “For me it is.”

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“The IV and III Cohorts should attack milord,” Veturius said without mincing his words when they were left alone. Lucius clenched his jaw and turned his right hand into a fist on the table.

“If you’re worried about Merenda, it is my intention to reinforce the Centurion,” he told the solemn-faced Tribune.

“Merenda will fight with what he has available and come out of it with a good tale we shall all have to suffer through for long,” Veturius replied gruffly. “The III Legio needs to press forward without delay. This isn’t Oldfort.”

“The battle won’t be decided here Galio,” Lucius said.

“With all respect milord, Ligur may outsmart us again down the line,” Veturius insisted. “That none had managed it up to now matters naught. He studied the terrain and knows what he needs to do, but we are not as determined these past couple of months. Let’s get this over with.”

“We can’t keep losing people Galio,” Lucius murmured and grimaced trying to move his hurt arm. He’d another cut on the side of his head where the bolt had grazed his helm but it didn’t bother him as much.

“I promised Roderick I’ll do my outmost to get you on the throne,” Veturius said raspingly. “Most of it is done but the job ain’t finished yet. I’d like to finish it milord. Then we can mourn all you want about all those lost in the attempt.”

Lucius walked away from the table and stopped at the weapon-stand to pick up Endariel. It was in its custom made scabbard, the polished wide leather belt looped around it. He cracked it open and a child’s voice sang the incoherent lullaby afore Lucius sheathed it again.

“What will you do after the war is over?” He asked the aged officer.

“I’m three and fifty years old,” Galio replied. “Reckon as old as Roderick had been at the bridge. I’ll stay with the army milord.”

“I prefer you in the court.”

“The lads with you are not suited for court life, even those of higher station,” Veturius said. “It’ll be difficult to befriend lords in the Council after spending years fighting them.”

“I have another system in mind,” Lucius admitted. “More secure and army friendly. A way to balance the Council’s power and separate it from the Throne’s. I’ll need people like you to keep the others grounded.”

“We should attack milord,” Galio Veturius said after a moment of silent contemplation. “Ligur won’t tell us his plan but we can make it clear through action and ruin it in the field. He’d rather fall on his sword than fail which is why the king left him to fight the 2nd Foot on his own. He prefers it. He’s not a better general than you but sometimes it doesn’t really matter. Lots of good generals have lost to the fear of losing that tied their hands. An injury or dead friends won’t defeat you sir unless you allow it. You can lead without being in the field. Just get the army going milord. We know what to do.”

> Commander Percival Gaeta got the order to advance on Brushwood and secure army’s center thrust. He encountered resistance immediately from the regulars covering the treeline. Durio wanted to fire his machines inside the woods, but Lucius ordered Gaeta to engage and Brevis to move up to assist if needed. Long took his cavalry in a wide sweeping arc that reached as far out as the South Coppice –the small forest standing four-five kilometers away from the west edges of Brushwood and left a gap there one could exploit to swing around to enter the town from its west side.

>

> At the same time Silvius’ 4th Cohort along ¾ of Falx’s 3rd were ordered to push inside Holt’s Stable and lock shields with whatever forces Frugus had in there. Silvius promptly marched over the ruined barricade into the narrow streets to almost four hundred meters deep before in turn meeting resistance early that morning. Lepidus’ Century was angled to strike at Tarcus force guarding the east barricade and despite the initial difficulty, legionnaires went over it and attacked Tarcus’ defenders that had during the night turned inwards to surround Merenda.

>

> The Centurion was still hanging on at the northeast edge of the city, keeping part of Hortolanus Lake and most of the Tangerine Gardens under his control. Some of his units had been in bad condition but he’d inflicted so much damage to Tarcus, his force started retreating slowly under the pressure.

>

> Lucius, who had been informed of Merenda’s exploits in the meantime, allowed Brevis to advance the 1st around Gaeta and strike at the edge of Brushwood intending to engulf the whole of Holt’s Stables in two giant pincers. In what appeared to be a last minute reaction, Betto’s cavalry reappeared at the southwest and Optio Long moved to deal with them near the edges of South Coppice. Lucius who was watching with Ramirus from the watchtower the events happening inside the city had just received Nasica’s evening missive –delivered a couple of hours late- about the latter’s battle beyond the Grass Sea in the distant east side of the battlefield.

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> He immediately ordered Logan’s warband to advance north whilst hugging the forest in search of the rest of Sorio’s cavalry and for Nasica to scout the open area thoroughly up to the town’s rear or the road. Fearing Sorio might slip out initially Lucius and the III Legio’s officer core didn’t think much of Frugus decision to slowly retreat further inside the city.

>

> Brevis who had just reported to Prefect Trupo that his west flank remained clear of any threat from Long’s actions, was ordered to box in the Regulars fighting in the woods with Gaeta’s soldiers attacking with the 1st Cohort all-out.

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> The 1st Cohort marched unopposed with Capito’s 4th Century covering its exposed west flank, reached the edge of the woods and rooted a small force of Regulars guarding the turn but found a full Century waiting right behind them –about four hundred legionnaires. Brevis paused briefly to bring Mede’s 2nd Century up to assist the leading 1st Century, keeping Mangas 3rd operating near Brushwood. Then he attacked the enemy legionnaires in a fierce engagement on the flats three hundred meters from the west edges of Brushwood.

>

> Brevis had the numbers but this time Betto’s men didn’t retreat despite the unfavorable terrain. They had a reason for it. Decurion Slag who was engaged in a series of small cavalry actions near South Coppice got attacked by a large force of Sorio’s riders. Long initially sent all his riders there to assist him but noticed even more cavalry coming out of the north side of the Coppice heading for the gap between the two ‘sister’ woods. Celsus elusive horse-drawn war machines had reappeared days after they were last seen in action. Almost forty of them quickly positioned themselves less than two hundred meters from Capito’s 4th Century guarding the flanks of the engaged Brevis.

>

> In the chaos of battle few even noticed the enemy cavalry approaching. An alarmed Centurion Capito turned his attention towards the setting up Scorpios but couldn’t do anything else but order his men to dive for the ground. Those that didn’t hear him were cut down in the initial volley.

>

> Celsus fired down a straight line with no arc. The second volley ripping through Brevis’ unsuspecting men. In the confusion no one really knew what was going on other than the shocked Capito who ordered his Century forward and against the quick-firing machines. The desperate idea an attempt to reach them as soon as possible and also shield the main group behind him with their bodies and shields.

>

> Sorio’s lancers –around eighty of his best riders led by the Optio of Cavalry in person, the officer himself an equestrian instructor from Aldenfort- who were following Celsus to protect his vital strategic unit, decided to strike the hurriedly advancing Capito and brush him out of the way.

>

> Optio Long who was the second person –with the King being the 3rd- aware of what was happening at the outer edges of Lucius’ west flank turned some of his riders north –the bulk of his cavalry was fighting the now much superior in numbers enemy in the heralded cavalry engagement known as the ‘Battle of the South Coppice’- and charged his meager force (around forty at the start of the maneuver) across the plains.

>

> The Nord cavalry officer’s intention was to blunt and deflect the experienced Sorio’s own 2nd charge (his first attempt had killed Centurion Capito, his staff and all but wiped out the 4th Century), break through them to reach the packed with engineers lines of Celsus’ horse-drawn artillery (around three hundred men) and stop them from approaching and firing again on the now completely exposed Brevis.

>

> It was to be one of the most recited legendary charges of the campaign along with Kaeso’s ‘Mad Dash into Oras Hells’ weeks later.

>

>  

[https://i.postimg.cc/CYG4JHjX/Holt-s-Stable-after-13th-primus.jpg]

artist rendition of the battle of the Lorian Plains, distances not in scale, this is the time of Long's charge to stop Sorio,

Right click image to open fully

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This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

A grim-faced, pale Lucius lowered the field glasses and all but jumped down the stairs of the watchtower pushing through his guards. Ramirus who was talking with Sirio and Storm Nattas at the base of the three by three wide, six meters tall tower snapped his head around spotting the King’s acrobatics.

“Your grace,” Ramirus called to be heard as Lucius hurried towards Sir Valens relaxing royal knights twenty meters away and upon receiving no reply ran after him. Sirio followed and Nattas was heard commenting cynically seeing everyone else moving fast away from him.

“Was it something I said? A loose fart? Fuck’s sake.”

“Sir Maximilian!” Lucius barked, his heart beating wild. “Help me on my horse.”

The Knight stood up with a frown seeing the King approaching. “My Lord the Dottore gave strict instructions—”

“It’s an order,” Lucius growled and Trupo approached as well. “Brevis has been caught in the open by Celsus and Cavalry!”

“Long is there sir,” Trupo assured him.

“Long is in trouble as well!” Lucius barked at the mustached officer who stood back at the rebuke.

“Your grace,” the arriving Ramirus repeated. “You can’t go. Brevis can handle it. He’ll retreat.”

Lucius grabbed Nightsilver’s reins but paused to glare at Ramirus. “Brevis might lose his whole command Ramirus!”

“Send for the Dottore,” Ramirus ordered a panicked Sirio. “We’ll have his opinion.”

“My King, I’ll ride to the Optio’s assistance,” Sir Maximilian offered immediately and Lucius realized they were intent on keeping him there.

“Silvius is inside the city,” Trupo said stiffly. “The general must remain in command for the good of the army. You are in no condition to lead a charge sire.”

Lucius sighed trying to control his anger and then stared at Sir Maximilian. Baron Velens son nodded once and slapped his knight’s helm cover shut. He turned around, spurs ringing and climbed on his horse, all the knights quickly rushing on their own saddled mounts.

“Long lances out,” he ordered with a deep muffled voice. “At a fast gallop gentlemen. Follow me!”

And then they all rode away, iron horseshoes clad hooves plowing at the fast drying up terrain.

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Lucius rushed up on the watchtower again, but he couldn’t see what was happening clearly in the confusion that had seized his west flank and spotting the Tribune arriving on a horse ten minutes later coming from the east flank Lucius climbed back down to talk with him. The Tribune had ridden there to be informed of Merenda’s progress.

Trupo tackled the Tribune first just as he jumped from his horse and Galio nodded as he was briefed of the news, his wrinkled face showing no emotion.

“Anything?” Lucius asked the soldier watching with the field glasses up on the tower.

“Nothing sir.”

Eh.

“Betto had the machines hidden inside the South Coppice,” he told the approaching officer. “They were never in the town!”

Lucius was angry with himself. Angry for getting hurt and at the feeling he couldn’t control the flow of the battle.

“Silvius has cut through Frugus, so he retreated again. He just doesn’t have the men to hold us back. It is not a tactic,” Galio informed him. “Merenda rolled up Tarcus’ east flank and has him cut off inside a hostel. In an hour I’ll send another Century to Gaeta or Silvius will be close enough to attack west and strangle the regulars defending Brushwood.”

Lucius puffed out stressed and then grimaced in pain trying to move his arm, which caused everyone around him a great deal of concern. This infuriated the King who glared at his officers. “People are in grave danger right now gents!”

“As long you draw breath milord, everyone is safe,” Veturius replied earnestly.

I wish that was the case, a pensive Lucius thought and stared at the distant flank. Clouds of dust raised there, the clamor of a great battle reaching them despite the distance and the much nearer struggle unfolding inside the besieged town.

> Prefect Betto who was with the 2nd Century (parts of the 1st had been sent back that morning to assist Ligur and Frugus had less than four hundred legionnaires inside the town, seven hundred initially with those of Tarcus) assisting the six platoons of Tenor Regulars inside Brushwood (around five hundred men), initially wanted to strike with Celsus inflicting the maximum amount of damage and then withdraw the artillery to Mercator’s Inn.

>

> Seeing Sorio destroy Capito’s Century he ordered Celsus to turn his machines on Brevis and fire at them to pave the way for another charge by Sorio’s Lancers. He erroneously assumed Long had been drawn into the Cavalry engagement near South Coppice (it was to serve that very purpose) and after Sorio finished with his charge, the plan had been for the Optio to turn around and destroy Lucius’ cavalry completely. He was aware of more cavalry present in the east but Nasica had been worn out by now after days of riding after Sorio and they could disengage his force or finish it off later if the Croton officer gave chase.

>

> Kill Lucius.

>

> Destroy his cavalry.

>

> Preserve the army.

>

> These were the orders Betto had taken with him.

>

> Because Betto intended to retreat with as much of his force intact as it was feasible. In the course of the battle much of the 3rd Cohort had to be sacrificed though but for a Century and the Prefect wanted to at least keep Celsus and Sorio’s men safe to use later.

>

> Sorio turned around to prepare for a 2nd charge and up until that point for the first time in the battle everything had gone according to plan. No Merenda to block Tarcus and lock him up on this flank. Sorio started his charge down the plains and the open space between the two forests but Long appeared out of thin air seemingly not twenty meters afore he could strike the alerted Brevis’ 1st Century.

>

> While Optio Long had performed no magic trick, he’d ridden hard and hit Sorio’s right flank of the ‘flying wedge’ taking its head off essentially and killing or unhorsing twenty lancers, disrupting as many of those following. Sorio found himself cut off momentarily and he galloped around in the confusion, losing some men to javelins skirting near Brevis. The Primus Pilus pulled the three outer rows of men from the line (around thirty) turned them around and slapped them into a square in less than two minutes.

>

> In the pandemonium of many riders getting mixed in or thrown about, Sorio’s disrupted force tried to locate Long but the Optio had kept his men going and was heading for Celsus’ Scorpios. While Sorio did manage to find Long and went after him, not every one of his riders followed after their leader in the brouhaha. Some turned to attack Brevis, who had set up another anti-cavalry square in the meantime and ordered the arriving Decanus ‘Caligula’ Gata to issue javelins to his first to react 2nd Maniple.

>

> The 1st Cohort split into two portions swiftly with some turning outwards (west facing) against Sorio’s cavalry and Celsus’ machines, while the rest continued attacking Betto’s force that started giving ground twenty minutes into the struggle just by pure numbers disparity.

>

> The crucial part of the engagement (while some contemporary analysts’ today point to Sir Maximillian’s intervention also at the nearby larger cavalry scuffle at South Coppice) was Optio Long’s follow up charge against Celsus Scorpios. Celsus spotted the valiant legion cavalry officer’s intentions and turned at least twenty machines towards him, with as many as sixty armed engineers rushing to block the charging at the end of their tether’s horses. It is generally agreed that Long’s animals were shot, still they performed a brilliant final action amidst the firing Scorpios.

>

> While most of the projectiles were loosed in the blind and missed, Long suffered appallingly as he got struck by two iron bolts at least, losing either both legs or an arm and a leg. He galloped wildly the last couple of meters covered in gore, scattered the engineers and stricken Celsus’ center head on.

>

> At least forty engineers were killed or injured in the charge, seven machines were wrecked colliding with horses and smashed bodies, another ten broke apart when their mounts attempted to flee in panic. It was a heroic suicidal feat that disrupted Celsus’ actions and rendered him useless. Betto realizing he couldn’t use the machines against Brevis ordered Celsus to retreat saving what he could and turned around himself.

>

> Sorio ordered his cavalry to retreat but few had followed him, less than forty riders initially of the just under five hundred made it out of Holt’s stables (about sixty or seventy arrived at Mercator’s Inn two days later) after the Prefect himself and the battered 2nd Century.

>

> In the space of six minutes Betto went from almost winning the local engagement to facing atrocious casualties and total annihilation, as Sir Valens helped turn the battle against Sorio’s remaining cavalry that scattered in the plains. Betto’s defeat in the west flank (it was the flank that hurt Lucius the most in this battle) marked also the collapse of Frugus’ center. Tarcus died hours later from his injuries as Merenda’s men finally cut the road near noon and Frugus while resisting until later that evening inside the town -to buy Betto some more time, was killed fighting to the last man defending an abandoned bakery.

>

> Only the Optio’s blood-covered torso was recovered after the battle. The posthumously promoted to Prefect (of Cavalry) and twice decorated famed Nord equestrian, perished having suffered catastrophic injuries aged only twenty five.

>

>  

Eighteen Months Offensive

Evening of 14th of Primus 194,

Code named -18 plus 14-

Campaign Day 404

Holt’s Stable’s north gates road

The west edge of Tangerine Forest

“Whoa,” Lucius said and Nightsilver neighed stopping near the resting by the road legionnaires. “As you were men. Catch your rest.”

This he addressed to some that recognized the King’s armour and attempted to stand in salute. Some of the exhausted men near the broken wagon wearing ranger’s armour turned to stare at Lucius wearily. Lucius recognized the clad in dark robes Kaeso sharpening a fancy shortsword he’d taken from Bas Crull years back.

The wiry, one-armed Centurion returned his querying stare.

“Men and animals are marching north,” Kaeso reported casually after Lucius clicked his tongue for his horse to approach the upturned wagon. Tools and some javelin shafts scattered about. An army supply wagon marked with the numerals of the 3rd Cohort, 1st Legion. “Six hundred men and animals. They have half a day head start.”

A frowned Lucius had just received a preliminary casualty report and the arriving tomorrow with the supply train Colt would give them a better account of the piled dead inside and outside the town. The civilians had evacuated a year back to Croton, but the army was on the move again and wouldn’t stay to liven up the ghost town. The Cohorts forming up behind them near one of the still-standing stables buildings, waiting for the more distant units to arrive from the expansive battlefield. Lucius had come to find Merenda and his mood was grave.

“Where’s Sorex?”

Kaeso grimaced and sheathed his weapon to jump down from the wagon. “Lost a lot of kids in them woods, plenty inside the town as well. Told him there’s no point looking for tags in the dark.”

Lucius clenched his teeth in a grimace of sorrow. “Merenda?”

“Should never run a legion,” Kaeso said looking at him and then smiled wolfishly. “Or maybe he should. That’s for the king to decide.”

Kaeso was a weird but very perceptive man.

“We’ll catch up with them,” Lucius assured him and Kaeso shrugged his shoulders indifferently.

“Need no pep talk. Milord,” he added with a leer.

“We are aware.”

“Don’t expect a fair fight,” Kaeso said. “Goff come with me,” he ordered one of his rangers. “Dosser get the rest up and moving. Vacations are over.”

“You have a bit of time. Rest up,” Lucius said awkwardly and Kaeso chuckled. Goff saluted Lucius glumly looking thin and worn out.

“Don’t give him hope. We got work to do. Sleep when we’re dead,” Kaeso said and shoved Goff forward. “Strugglers to catch up ahead and knife in the back. Or kidneys.”

Lucius shook his head and watched the ranger moving away in the dark street. Trupo rode next to him a moment later.

“We have birds from Asturia. Briefing in ten minutes. The corner villa across the street. Departure of main units set in an hour. Colt will follow half a day behind, but I say a whole day or more if he stalls for repairs or to set up a proper hospital. We need one desperately sir.”

“Is there time? Can he do that?” Lucius queried looking at the mustached staff officer.

“Negative sire. Regrettably he cannot.”

“What are the news?” Lucius asked wearily standing back on the saddle.

“Pretty bad sir.”

Lucius had feared that was the case. Ligur’s sideshow was a way to keep them at arm’s length.

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Tribune Veturius run a calloused hand over his shorn short white head.

“Ligur has control of Lourmar,” Lucius said slowly, the insignificant village –a mere dot on the map- staring at him mockingly. Right at the center of the Green Plains, half-buried in the woods and with a population of three hundred. “Used foreknowledge of the forest paths to sneak near Framtond Bridge and took control of the road.”

“The Duke lost part of his supply train but Sula’s got wiped out completely my Lord,” Ramirus replied, a white-faced Sirio almost collapsing under his table abruptly, the tension crashing him. His uncle found the quill his nephew had dropped and slotted it back into his shaking hand.

“Is this confirmed?” Lucius asked staring at the sack of wasps Ole Scrawny had tossed in his lap. The distances forbidding to offer assistance. The battle had started everywhere else while he was stuck in Holt’s Stables.

“It’s impossible to know exact casualty numbers. Sir Rupert is missing in action. A couple of thousand civilians and artisans. At least five hundred soldiers, plus those lost attacking the bridge,” Ramirus said. Six missives had arrived from Asturia and they expected more now that they had liberated Holt’s Stables.

“What is the Duke trying to do?” Galio grunted. “He can’t break through without controlling both ends of the bridge! In the plaguing winter no less!”

Keeping them from heading after Sula or whomever escaped the noose. It wasn’t without merit what Lord Holt had immediately done in reaction to the ambush.

However costly.

“The name of the officer against them?” Lucius asked calmly despite his inner turmoil.

“Prefect Regulus. Another old head,” Ramirus replied. “Prisoners confirm it. Betto was sent here but Regulus is the better officer. Studied in Anorum. Ruinal native, former Optio of the First Legion but he would have never been raised higher due to lowly station. Ligur was given free reign sir. He promoted on merit clearly.”

“Thugs lay traps,” Trupo commented sourly.

“A strategic ambush is actually an important class in all military schools worth their salt,” Lucius intervened and stood up. “Ligur sealed the bridge using knowledge of the terrain to bring a lot of troops near the Duke undetected. He did it in the middle of winter and flood-season same as we did, because less people roam the lands. Sula moved towards Islandport but he wouldn’t have done it if he had knowledge of troops to his rear. Does he know now?”

“Not without his train sir,” Ramirus replied. “The Duke messaged loyal locals in Islandport to inform him but the port is locked down under martial law.”

“Can the Duke break out?” Veturius asked solemnly.

“The bridge is under water. You can walk on it carefully but the current is dangerous and debris might toss a man over and into the deeps,” Ramirus rubbed his face. The LID officer was always a thin man but he started to look like a scarecrow now. He was working two jobs basically, filling in for Gripa since Lucius didn’t have the time to pick a new aide yet. “The Duke believes he can take the bridge but he needs the weather’s help to bring any meaningful army across.”

“He’ll land next to the delta,” Lucius said and pointed at the map. “Try to build up enough of a force there to attack Regulus from the north side of the road and push him away from the bridge. This will take time and is always risky. Can he bring men up from the docks he built at Nymph’s Shame?”

“There are roads leading to Lourmar from there. Hunters use them,” Ramirus replied. “All the way to the bridge really but the distance is…” he puffed out exasperated.

“We’re basically closer and on paved road,” Lucius said his eyes on the road connecting Asturia with Islandport and then the plains. “Can Sula take the port? Because if he takes the port, the Duke can bring supplies directly there.”

“Assuming the 1st Legion has only one Cohort available to use there. Sula might still have enough numbers milord,” Galio said.

“Lord Scylla’s Sabretooth troops, Vinterfort for sure,” Lucius counted with his fingers. “Tenor, we faced some of them here. What else can he bring there? How much army has Jeremy brought with him?”

“Fighting without supplies is Sula’s biggest problem. He needs to solve it,” Trupo noticed. “Moving up there was a mistake sir.”

Eh, it was an undefended boulevard to the enemy’s anchoring port and biggest nearby major supply hub. You can’t just pass at the opportunity.

“You can’t defeat a Legion easily. Betto showed us that here gentlemen,” Lucius said gravely. “Sula especially will never surrender or give up even he gets completely cut off. He has done it afore at Halfostad, granted against a lesser foe. I can see him punching back and even pushing to take Islandport. If he does then it’s a siege. Ligur needs more men. Where will he find them?”

Galio grimaced staring at the map.

Trupo pursed his mouth and gazed at his hands unsure.

Lucius stared at the table surprised they couldn’t see it. Sirio cleared his throat, his pale face gaining some color.

“Yes Sirio?”

Sirio blinked and tried to stand up but failed making a lot of noise and apologizing to the nearby officers.

“Just speak from yer seat,” his uncle grunted a little embarrassed for him.

“He can’t find more troops your grace,” Sirio croaked, now sweating profusely. Lucius kept his eyes on the young man and the LID officer visibly shuddered. Trupo filled a cup of water and gave it to him. Sirio gulped it down greedily trying to calm himself down. “So he’ll use what he has available economically?”

“Lad,” Trupo said trying to be polite, his moustache dancing in a silent chuckle.

“He’s right,” Lucius said and Sirio let out a squealing gasp which surprised everyone. The Tribune rubbed at his forehead troubled. “Betto is heading back to reinforce Ligur and so will Regulus soon I’m certain. He’ll leave a force to hold the bridge for a bit more and then retreat. He might even be on the road already.”

“But can he defeat Sula before we reach him?” Galio asked Lucius.

“Durio?” Lucius asked and the silently listening Prefect of Engineers stood up.

“Celsus machines are built with imported hardwood. Probably Kaltha as the North is selling to us through Sovya and Kas, if I had to guess Scaldingport,” he started reading from his notes briefly. “Given the design and numbers we’ve seen here, one must assume that enough material was there for them to experiment with it and come up with new designs. They had the workforce, the means and opportunity my Lord,” he added confidently and returned to his seat.

“For a level-headed general like Ligur to give permission for a novel type of Scorpio to be produced,” Lucius continued the thread. “Then he’d enough or satisfactory numbers of machines already to defend against two legions and a big Duchy’s army.”

“Any idea of how many pieces of artillery that means milord?” Galio asked.

“Whatever we have combined. A hundred? More? He’s a practical man. You can’t outnumber an opponent with a bigger manpower pool but you can out-produce him in a certain area.”

“Sula can’t defend against so many war machines without his own, even with his,” Trupo murmured sadly and worked on the edges of his mustache.

“That’s how he plans to defeat him,” Lucius agreed. “Then he’ll turn around and fight us with as much of his legion survives and I assume he’ll be careful there as well, plus his allies before Duke Holt’s army comes to our assistance.”

“He can’t defeat us all milord.”

I would have tried in his stead. Give it my best shot.

It’s a risky, brilliant plan.

Lucius nodded as he agreed with the Tribune. “I’m not sure he thinks that far ahead Tribune or he cares. This is a plan that needs each step to succeed for it to move forward. Ligur will try to destroy Sula and then roll the dice with us. Whatever happens after or whether he’ll have anything left to face the Duke is a matter he doesn’t concern himself with at this point. This is the definition of doing as much as it is humanly possible to have a clear conscience or perish in the attempt.”

“I really hope the scrawny bastard has a heart attack,” Trupo admitted. “Just drop dead. I’ll say a good word for him in his funeral.”

“Hope won’t help us nor favorable odds,” Lucius cautioned them getting up, the horns sounding the recall for the officers present whilst signaling the Legion was ready to depart. “What we need to do is to defeat him thoroughly in the field and rest assured that is exactly what we’re going to do.”

Having said that Lucius secretly hoped Sula and his men survived the horrors ahead of them. The thought of losing a legion of people he knew devastating.

> With a deep frown marring his handsome face, Lucius clasped everyone’s arm ahead of the journey towards Mercator’s Inn. He’d a few spirited words of encouragement for everyone present. An intimate gesture uncharacteristic to the rulers of yesteryears but then again Lucius Aldenus the Third was much more than that for many of us.

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> To the many remembering him fondly so many years later, he still is.

>

> We the faithful, be it friends, followers, comrades and simple people had never said farewell to our Praetor. But even if we had attempted it, the send-off would have been too long and would have never really finished when the first Queen’s words ended that fateful night.

[https://i.postimg.cc/MzHsHMhT/Lorian-Plains-14th.jpg]

The 3rd Legion departs Holt's Stables, Betto heads for Mercator's Inn, Regulus on the move

Early the next day (14th)

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