Dawn was two hours away when the first of the wagons from Sedgewick arrived at Rowan Keep. General Themis was inspecting the soldiers she was bringing with her. This wasn't an infantry operation, made up mostly of fast cavalry. They needed to get to the Arcane Collegium at Crystalstone and either drive off the raiding bands of Winter or provide an escort to get the Mages and students out of there.

What information she had indicated that the small force of Winter had only been so successful because of the ice storm that had raged for weeks, making the area uninhabitable. With that gone, she wanted to get in fast and get to work.

More troops would follow, but for now, she was taking the one hundred heavily armored Legion veterans who had followed her to Rowan Keep. They would march hard and travel behind the fast cavalry. Themis didn't know what the situation was like, but she knew she'd need infantry. They could dig in and hold ground the way cavalry couldn't. The heavy wagons from Sedgewick were full of supplies to keep both horses and infantry fed. She did not doubt that the Workers could keep up with her infantry. While oxen would plod along at a third of the pace her infantry could march, she'd observed the Contract Workers pulling full wagons of stone at a full run from the quarries to the keep, even having races.

Each one had the hauling abilities of a high-tier Teamster, something that the Teamster's Guild was not happy with, despite the Worker's lack of fighting ability. A baggage train of Teamsters could haul goods and fight tooth and nail to defend them, especially when their wagons deployed into a square formation. But contracts with the guild took time to negotiate, and that was time she didn't have. She'd make do with Workers instead. The few of them she'd seen fight would have to be enough to keep the others alive if the situation turned dire. The Butcher alone was worth a dozen Teamsters.

The first ten heavy wagons thundered up the road, each pulled by one Contract Worker with another sitting behind where the wagon driver would normally steer the wagon. Both workers wore heavy fur coats lined with sheep's wool, their hoods thrown back and the coats unbuttoned in the cool weather. That pleased her. The Baron wasn't being stingy about supplying his people with what they needed to survive a harsh winter. Something about the wagons looked odd to her, some small detail was off. Each of the Sedgewick Heavy Wagons had a length of over twenty feet. The cargo box was sixteen feet long and six feet wide, ideal for carrying large amounts of cargo. To support that weight, they needed oversized Ironwood axels reinforced with Dark Steel, and the wagons themselves were made of sturdy timbers taken from the huge trees killed in the War of the Oaks. The huge wheels with metal rims were essential for carrying heavy loads, as were the metal springs to absorb shocks from bad roads. Not that any of the roads around Sedgewick were bad. The Baron clearly understood the advantages of a good road system that didn't turn into a mud pit for half a year. She realized it was the springs that had caught her eye. These wagons were barely loaded. It wasn't obvious because of the three-foot-high sides and the tented covering over that.

She walked over to the first wagon, noting that none of the ten seemed loaded. "Can someone tell me why the Baron is sending me unloaded wagons?"

The woman sitting on the first wagon answered her. "Not empty ma'am. Part loaded. Each one has two barrels of water, one barrel of superior-quality groats, one barrel of apples from the Dryad Orchards, and a barrel of smoked meat. We also tossed in a cooking pot, a bag of charcoal, and a dozen heavy blankets to make the ride more comfortable for your soldiers. We were going to put the beer barrels in the troop wagons, but Ben said that was a bad idea. The beer is following along in two other wagons."

Themis tossed aside the covering and looked inside. As promised, there were the barrels of supplies, secured with rope to prevent them from moving, and a pile of warm blankets made from animal furs. The bed of the wagon was covered a foot deep in fresh straw. She looked at her infantry. Fighting after a long march sapped a lot of stamina. "How fast can you move and keep up the pace?"

"Oh, call it a three-quarters run and we'll trade off every couple of hours to keep things moving along. That lets us take naps and keep our stamina up. Every Worker that's coming along has at least Haul 4, a strength of 20, and is in the third Tier. Nothing against your soldiers ma'am, but we were told speed was of the essence and the Baron was worried about leaving your infantry behind if we ran as fast as we could to keep up with the cavalry. We're a little limited when it comes to fighting, so it's better to keep the soldiers with the wagons. At least that was what we were told.

Themis stared at the smiling Workers for a full minute as her mind thought over the implications of being able to haul heavy infantry along good roads as fast as cavalry. Even hard-packed dirt would do with those wide wheels. South of Rowan Keep, Baron William had crews repairing the road to Hurlsford and then had plans to keep going all the way to Thunderhead, linking up Dalesford and the smaller villages. He claimed it would be a boon for trade and help the Legion protect the area. She also noted it would go a long way to helping a certain Baron lay claim to more land abandoned by Baron Pennypincher. But that was a problem for another day, and not hers. Right now, she was thinking of the advantages this system offered her. Each squad of ten men would have all the food and water they needed, a place to sleep out of the cold, and be rested when they arrived.

"Decurions, mount your banners at the front of each wagon and have your squads stow their gear and load up. We'll begin teleporting each squad and their wagons to Rockburrow in five minutes." The soldiers had followed the conversation and were quite happy with the change. While the Legion might be proud of how fast they could travel, these were veterans who knew the advantage of arriving at a battle without the fatigue of marching. Full bellies and the mention of beer also raised morale. After a quick teleport to Wolfsburg and then onto Rockburrow, they mounted their wagons, pulled the covering tight, and burrowed into the straw for a nap, thankful to not be standing around in the cold wind.

Themis watched the wagons roll in for the next hour. The Butcher was ahead of schedule. She'd told him dawn, but ordering someone to quickly pack 40 wagons of supplies didn't mean it would happen. She'd been hoping they could leave by the afternoon. She watched as wagon after wagon filled with barrels of groats, beer, Sedgewick Sausage, and smoked meat rolled by. Her scribe noted it all down as it went by, calling it out. She was particularly pleased with the quality of the groats. Superior-quality feed for the horses meant the cavalry could march further, charge more, and not wear out their horses. The accountants would scream at the price, but she didn't care. The Emperor had ordered her on this mission and Gus wasn't going to care about extra gold paid out to someone who could supply the Legion with this kind of support. She intended to be back at some point and have a long talk with Baron William about setting up permanent deals to buy his superior quality grain. She'd have to talk to Gus about some creative financing.

If you come across this story on Amazon, it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

After the supplies, smaller wagons drove up, the first two hauled by two men with leaves for hair. She'd spent time drinking with Jon and Cham in their underground bar after fighting with them against a rat the size of an elephant. The wagons they pulled had warning signs on them, noting they carried alchemical supplies and two alchemists along for the ride. The scribe talked to the alchemists riding on the wagons and came to her, perplexed. "Ma'am, I don't know how to account for their cargo. They are carrying potions but in barrels! I don't have a reimbursement code for barrels of potions! And no one will believe me!"

Jon said in a dry tone, "Now, why would you not want our economy-sized potions? It's so much better to just tap a barrel and hand people a mug of the good stuff than have to carry all those fragile little potion containers."

Themis examined the barrels with her Identification skill, noting they were exactly what the alchemists claimed they were. "I'm guessing the Baron sent you to the Keep to vouch for the potency of this stuff?"

Aleister bowed politely, "Indeed. I'm happy to sign a statement about their potency, and you'll note that each barrel has my mark. In addition, my daughter and I are happy to accompany you on this little expedition. The Baron has instructed us to help in any way we can, from handing out potions, to...other things."

"Glad to have you, but fair warning, It might be quite dangerous."

Zephyr laughed, "Not as dangerous as not having us along to help the Butcher with his wagons of 'special stuff.'"

At a look from Themis, Aleister shrugged, "My daughter isn't wrong. We will be using our abilities to keep the volatile materials under control until they are needed. I'll let Ozzy explain."

Themis could see where the Butcher was walking beside five flat-bed wagons, their loads obscured with large tarps. Behind that were more wagons pulled carefully along by Workers who were avoiding bumps and keeping space between them. Further back came a colorful wagon ridden by a Kobold swaddled in warm clothing. The General walked to meet the Butcher, her eye deciphering the bumps under the tarps. Realization hit her all at once.

"Praise the Emperor, are those what I think they are?"

Ozzy smiled, "Yep, Georges was working on a large batch of these and I talked him into letting me have five of them 'for testing purposes.' The priests of Ares have already checked them out and blessed them with the Sigil of the God of War. They'll take only a few minutes to set up and don't even need to be taken off the wagons."

The Butcher pulled aside a tarp to show the General the dark, polished wood of a newly anointed catapult. "Mobile artillery? I like it. Tell me about what the hell you plan to use for ammunition while we move. And is that a taco wagon back there?"

Before the Butcher could answer, someone tugged on Themises pants leg. She looked down to see a small fae offering her a steaming cup. "Tea Ma'am? It will warm you right up! There's more, along with hot coffee and apple crumb cakes in the wagon we are sharing with Miss Myrna. Just call out and we'll be happy to serve you."

Themis sipped her tea and nodded her approval. The happy brownie ran off to report the success of her mission.

Her scribe was hovering close by. She sighed, "Just assign new numbers as needed and I'll help you file the paperwork when we get back. Put the brownies and the kobold under the heading of 'general support' for my command staff." Satisfied, the scribe began adding tacos, tea, coffee, and apple crumb cake to the invoice.

----------------------------------------

Suzette had been tired after clearing the lake of its accumulated poison and Rolly had suggested she depart and catch a nap before they left. He worked to tie down every barrel and pad them with hay to keep the load secure. As he was preparing to leave, he felt a mental nudge from the cocoon in his backpack. "Time to come out? Sounds good to me. I like two-sided conversations and you don't talk much from in there." He expected Squirmie to want to be taken back to Sedgewick first but to his surprise, she nudged him in the opposite direction. They played a game of hotter/colder until he had walked to the center of Suzette's Realm where they'd fought the old Duchess.

Setting down the cocoon, he emptied his pack of the food he was carrying, then went for a swim in the larger lake nearby, returning with an armful of sharp-toothed fish that he dumped on the ground. She'd be hungry when she emerged. He noticed a change in the area. It felt like all of the mana around him was being sucked to this point. The Lake changed color, and the ruins of the Duchesses castle turned to dust as the small bits of what remained of her magic were drawn to the cocoon. The mana swirled in a whirlpool for long minutes before it stopped, and a delicate set of hands tried to pull aside the silk.

Rolly pulled the silk apart carefully and Squirmie stood up, carefully unfolding her wings. "That's because you don't have your lower limbs. Just two arms and two legs."

The creature in front of Rolly was only one foot tall, humanoid, definitely female, and looked like a miniature High Fae Lady if you ignored the multifaceted eyes, antennae, and multicolored butterfly wings. She stomped a dainty foot on the ground, propelling herself into the air, and crossed her one set of arms grumpily. Rolly had never seen anything so cute!

"Don't forget the crown, that was packed with Fae Magic."

"You'll have to suffer through it, just like I do. And you can always change your shape."

"Then you best get started on those fish. We're on a schedule. We're taking a load of food with us to fight in a small battle. There will be lots of tasty frozen food to eat there."