Blood and Scales

Chapter 12 - The Road to Invasion

Count Antipolis had underestimated the size of the southern swamps. What he had first thought was a small wetland had turned out to be miles and miles of uncharted wilderness. This was going to take much longer than he had anticipated.

“Commander, send some men back for supplies. We’ll set up camp here, and continue tomorrow evening,” he ordered, looking around the clearing.

“Yes, my lord,” the commander dutifully slammed his fist against his chest before walking away barking orders. A handful of men dressed like scouts broke off from the group at an impressive run. The rest of the men began clearing debris, and chopping at the undergrowth.

Under his watchful gaze, the men set up a rudimentary wall from what they had chopped down, and began taking shifts patrolling the cleared area they had created. This was the first time they would be engaging in an overday excursion, so he was hoping that the craftsmen had managed to successfully come up with countermeasures for the deadly light of day.

Count Antipolis held his shaking hands in fists at his back, so that his nerves would not infect the troops. His father had long ago taught him that it was necessary to always project confidence. He reflected on the lessons held in his father’s study, now his own, and smiled at the warm memory.

The average soldier is easily frightened, he could practically hear in his father’s stern voice, the slightest indication of anything less than perfect confidence will spell their, and by extension your, doom.

The scouts arrived with a train of horses laden with supplies, and the resting men jumped up and began preparing meals and pitching the heavy canvas tents. Count Antipolis briefly reflected on the usefulness of horses. They were something that hadn’t existed on Rhime, the world that the Vanardis originally came from, but he had quickly adapted his troops to using them after they had captured some from a livestock village near their city after the upheaval.

“My lord, your quarters are set up,” the commander interrupted his introspection.

“Thank you, commander, show me the way,” he replied.

“Yes, my lord,” the commander saluted, before walking towards the largest of the tents.

Count Antipolis had to admit he was impressed by the level of comfort they had managed. He was expecting little more than a bedroll and maybe a lantern. Instead, he had a full bed, and a large table filled with hand drawn maps lit by candles, an armor stand, and a chest.

“Well done, commander,” he told the waiting man, “once the morning meal is done, gather all of the squad leaders to hear the scouts’ reports. We’ll plan the continuation of the assault at that time, until then, let the men not on guard duty rest. We have a long night ahead of us tomorrow.”

Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

After Count Antipolis drank his fill from the pitcher of reheated blood that one of the men had brought in to him, the squad leaders gathered and listened to the scouts reports. The gist of which was that there were a handful of farms scattered around the swamp, but about two nights' march from where they had set up camp was the main city of the lizigoths.

The count, the commander, and the leaders listened intently as the location, now marked on the large map on the main table, was described thoroughly by the scouts. The number of people living there was surprisingly consistent, as were the maps that each scout had drawn. When their reports were finished, they answered all questions posed by the leaders, and then they were dismissed.

“My lord, given the size of the city, it might be prudent to have a medium sized force sweep everyone from the back into the main force on the other side of the city,” one leader suggested.

“That could work,” Antipolis said, giving it some thought, “but what about those that escape from the sides? There are a lot of ways in and out of this city. We would likely spend weeks hunting down the survivors. They have the advantage of knowing the terrain better than we do. It is imperative that none escape.”

“In that case, my lord,” the commander piped in, “what if we were to spread the troops to each entrance and drive everyone towards the center?”

“That has potential, commander, but what about the final resistance in the middle? They will be more formidable when gathered up like that. Though I have no doubt we could crush them, I wouldn’t like to lose too many men though.”

“What if we sent a large force through one of the back ways to drive those fleeing to the center out?” one of the leaders countered.

“I like that,” Antipolis said, stroking his beard in contemplation, “however, instead of a large force, it will be myself and my personal contingent, we will quickly sweep into the center of the city, and destroy anyone sent our way, by the rest of the force sweeping everyone in. We’ll burn everything on our way in, so they can’t escape behind us.”

Everyone agreed with that plan, and finalizing all the little details took until nearly sunrise. Everyone left his tent yawning, but confident. He fell asleep in his surprisingly comfortable bed with thoughts of finally avenging the murder of his daughter.

The count smiled wickedly when they finally came upon the home city of the infernal lizards that infested this swamp. It had been a relatively uneventful two nights march, luckily. Oh, they had come across random patrols, which his men dispatched so quickly, he had admittedly only seen some of them after the fight was over.

They had also destroyed the groups of farmers in their homes that they had come across, but burning the strange crops they were growing proved impossible because they were growing in strange square ponds. It would ultimately matter little, because when he was done, there wouldn’t be anyone left to harvest or eat it.

He dispatched his troops evenly all around the city, just as they had planned. With a shrill whistle, which each group of men echoed in turn, the invasion had begun.

“Forward!” He shouted at his personal contingent, and they surged forward with torches lit into the city made mostly from dried reeds. Everything around them caught fire with ease, but luck was not with them, as the heavy dark clouds above them released a deluge of water that put out every fire quickly. He was disappointed by this, but it changed the plan little.

When the alarm bells at the center of the city began ringing and he had to cut through swathes of well-armed defenders, Count Antipolis began to revel in the chaos and fear that surrounded him.