Micky very quickly called a retreat. He didn’t want to be in the middle of this bombardment as much as the enemy did. It seemed that much of his own allies had the same idea. There were a few overzealous ones that didn’t think that way though. And Micky could see the appeal. He soon ordered the cavalry to take the field and the rest to retreat. However, he wasn’t expecting much. He simply wanted to harry them and pad his kill count a bit.
Surveying the field and from the reports it seemed that his own allies were not spared from the bombardment. While it was apparent that the target was the enemy army, with the allied forces so close it was better to simply obliterate them as well. Or so the bombardier had decided anyway.
This would require an explanation from the legate. Had he not survived, that wouldn’t have been a problem, so Micky surmised. But he did, and it seemed that the two others that had filed in behind him had as well. Ironically, it was the three behind that, making up the back and strongest point of the spearhead, that received the most damage. Micky had no doubts that these were part of the legate’s faction and were supposed to sweep his achievements out from under him once he was dead.
On the other hand, it seemed that the two behind him were not, not informed of the strategy to kill them off, and were equally pissed and irate. It was going to be fun times at the legate’s office, Micky could tell you that.
It turned out that building a foothold was the easy part, in actuality. Most of the formulas and regents were toast. But Much of it could be recovered if the proper time and effort was taken. Which Micky now had, even if he was a bit anxious to see his other allies retreating around him. There were of course, still sporadic bombardments being launched towards the enemy army. But sporadic was the best descriptor. Any large gathering of enemy soldiers was a target. As such he called most of his cavalry back and had the few remaining spit up and engage only the smaller groups. This left an interesting sight of small groups being run down while large groups were being bombarded. Which meant the enemy kept trying to find the median line between that left them too large to be targeted by the rampaging warbands and too small to be a target of the bombardment. It was a game almost, what’s the right size? Almost, if there weren’t such deadly consequences.
Soon it was time to call a full retreat though. Even if it was a slow one. Micky found the legates office to be surrounded and hounded from all sides. The guards at the front couldn’t do a thing about it, even with them waving off their spears. Afterall, the powerful centurions had guards themselves that wouldn’t allow these lowly soldiers to harm their charges either. However, the centurions were not in full revolt… yet. Instead most gathered just outside his office, granted with the tent flap forced open and the legate’s guards retreated inside. While a large amount of the others were surrounding the outside and yelling at it.
“I don’t need to explain myself! It was precisely a strategy that worked well. And forcing those soldiers blind was the stroke of genius that allowed the victory to begin with.” Stated the legate. Having to yell in spite of the silencing and muffle enchantments. And for his voice to carry inversely.
“I thought I was the tactical stroke of genius that allowed us to win?” Replied a female voice sweetly. However, it was clear she was antagonizing the legate over his blunder. He had ‘failed’ to inform several… all of his rivals centurions and soldiers about the new arrival. That in itself wasn’t a strategic problem as there were surely spies and informants in the army, if not before, now there were. But he also failed to inform them that the strategy was to bombard the area, likely killing many of their valuable soldiers. Had they known, they would have engaged with fodder soldiers and pushed their elites further back.
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Instead, this was precisely what he wanted, and horribly failed at. Tactical genius, sure if it involved charging headlong into the enemy army he could think of a thousand ways to do so. Political genius he was not. Even if he wanted to, now he would have to explain every maneuver to the military. This had been growing since before Micky left, but this was the tipping point. The legate had been bleeding soldiers, far more than the estimates were supposed to be. It was still acceptable in spite of many losing all their number and being forced to return with what little they had. And by return, be disgraced and only the noble leader themselves returning with their soldiers ‘put to better use’ elsewhere in the army. It worked so far.
“Amy!...” He yelled, only to be zapped, lightly, but still enough to send him flying back.
“The likes of one such as yourself are not allowed to refer to me by such a name. I don’t care where you overheard it from, you will refer to me by my title of first lady of the 8th line Amilia Von Yolitzien. Or the 8th prince’s wife.” Said the woman.
“Wife you are not. You are barely his finance, and after this I will make sure you are nothing but a concubine while I play with your precious prince like a lute.” Said the legate.
“Oh please Charles, your line has been trying to separate me and hubby since we were children. He has already promised before the king that I will be his one and only. You are no closer now than you were then, probably less so. You should send me a nice boy toy or two instead, at least I might entertain you. Honestly, the prince should take a few more women to bed, but he won’t and I won’t let him. Now enough scandalizing yourself before a crowd. There are more important things to discuss.” Said Amilia.
“Oh really?” Sneered out the legate, still on the floor with his wobbly legs.
“Mmm, I was, marginally, impressed with that senior centurion in the lead, I didn’t think you had it in you Charles, defense is not your strong suit. Let alone aggressive defense. It is a classic of the Bronze wall to the south. I didn’t think you read the classics in school since they were ‘below your genius intellect’, you really should though, at least in defensive strategy anyway.” Stated Amelia.
“The best defense is a good offense. That’s a classic too! I don’t need defense if I can just be offensive all the time!” Said the legate.
“Isn’t that the truth. Speaking of being offensive. I’m taking them, the senior centuri.” Stated Amelia.
“What? That one you were talking about? I suppose I could lend them to you, for a price.” Said the legate like a sleazy street vender.
“Oh gods no! Don’t think you can fool me. I meant them, they're mine now.” Said Amelia.
“What, what are you talking about?” Said the legate defensively. The first time he was on defense in his life.
“Don’t play with me, that elite centuri you have been hiding this whole time that’s made up of purely 100 rankers at a minimum. I’m here for a week Charles, I will be making the most of it.” Stated Amelia in a tactical blunder, but it was probably well known in certain circles from the way she stated it.
“No!! You can’t have them! Their mine! Grandad said they were mine so you can’t have them!” Screamed the legate like an abused cousin. For all the crowd knew they were… on some level.
“Too late, they’re mine now. It’s time to take this scrap of nowhere and move on with life.” Stated Amelia.
“Give them back! They’re mine and mine alone! You can’t have them!” Stated the legate.
“Who said I was giving them back?” She replied with the sweetest smile over her shoulder. And she meant it, she was taking them with her when she left.
After asking around Micky heard about who she was. Apparently she was a 1,000,000 ranker, or a Mil ranker. Basically she was an army of her own. It was apparent that she was a power coupling with the 8th who was a noble leader. By simply marrying your power leverage, it was the easiest way to maintain a positive relationship, so long as you maintained a positive relationship that is…
Yeah, Micky was screwed. At least she seemed reasonable?... Not suicidally stupic?... Yeah, Micky had a problem now, suicide or crazy suicide.