Chapter 10

Vicenzo

8:49 AM

Dennis silently observed the men carrying corpses and rubble out of the way, cleaning up the area they’d held, taking a final sip from his now patched-up and now almost empty canteen. Just over the nearby mountains, the first signs of the larger American presence were visible as more aircraft patrolled the skies now. The corpse-riddled battlefield still grabbed his attention. Some of the guys still watching the shattered wall looked like they had spent a day in a chimney, their faces riddled with residue from the guns they fired, soot from the homes that had burned down, and dirt from the still occasional artillery strike that landed too close for comfort, which was about 800 yards away, but still.

He heard the whistling of another 105-millimeter round that landed far into the forest. The place looked like the pictures he’d seen of the French forests during the First World War, with trees simply splintered away to a burnt, skeletal, jagged spike in the muddy ground. Really, the section of the city where the imperials had attacked was free of greenery in spite of the rest of the surroundings being green and alive. Still, scattered around were just a bunch of arms and legs jutting out in random directions, very few visible heads, let alone faces except for a few here or there.

In the distance, one was staring back at him; a bullet had gone clean through the man's left eye socket leaving only a black hole on the otherwise untouched face that he could see even from where he was. Dennis stared in an unsteady silence.

How many did I kill?

By now the injured had been moved away, and other guys from the air cav had rotated in. Not them, though. He’d stuck by, waiting, being ready to communicate and translate where needed, but so far he’d kept quiet. Watching those around him.

One of them was speaking and Dennis decided to listen in.

"Looks like they just kept coming.” one grumbled.

“Man... I'd heard stories of the Japs doing this sort of thing, but Jesus Christ, what were they thinking?"

Another soldier, one with a camera said "They're a different people... they're probably used to the idea of charging straight into death. Seems they decided to try it here and just… died on the few guns left. Arty did the rest."

Dennis turned his attention to the aftermath of the artillery strike out in the open. The craters. The unearthed plant life. The shattered bodies. Oddly, or perhaps appropriately, his sleep-deprived mind’s first thought was a cold, tired…

They're really going to need tractors for this.

"By the gods..." a shaky voice whispered in the local tongue.

Dennis lowered his recovered but now dented helmet, trying to hide his face from the freckled princess who was now looking at the scene in front of her with shock.

She was trailed by her guards, of course, but also another American interpreter.

Good...

"How... how many were killed?" she asked.

Dennis recognized the interpreter was Sean, and listened to his reply of "I don't have the numbers right now, highness."

"Surely you can guess!"

"Highness, they attacked across all segments of the walls until they seemingly decided to focus all their forces here. Our men slaughtered them where encountered, so... we estimated they had at least four thousand men, bodies are still being found, so maybe we took out half their force?"

Dennis felt the urge to comment and argue that the odds were that they took out most of them but suppressed it. This General Octavius fought them differently. He kept his forces in reserve, struck almost exclusively at night, kept their range, and only closed in when there was a perceived sense of security… the man was a threat.

And until proven otherwise, still at large…

He glanced up, seeing that Parthea had continued to look around at the field of death, then turned, getting a good look at the incoming helicopters as well as the destroyed wall, while men continued working to fortify what they could.

She then asked, “And Octavius was not among the dead?”

“Not that we have found.” Sean replied.

Even if the man had run, or his army scattered, another attack was not impossible. The US had learned the lessons of complacency too many times by now.

Up in the air, other the American helicopters, these carrying dead and wounded away passed those now bringing in more men and materiel.

"What madness motivated them to such a suicidal charge?." the young woman mumbled.

Dennis kept his focus on the pile of dead bodies, but the words resonated.

Why the hell didn't they just leave?

Was it desperation? Madness? Arrogance? Had Octavius Genuinely believed they could win after the massacres he’d faced in the mountains? Had he honestly thought they could have gained some semblance of victory after the cost of battling forces a thousand years ahead in technology? After so many deaths? Seriously thinking about it only added to the headache he was feeling, so he decided to push those thoughts away.

Parthea Trainaus on the other hand seemed to be almost hellbent on understanding it.

"No armies in our realm have seen this level of death in centuries! Certainly not in a single battle! How many prisoners did your men take?" she asked the dark-skinned man following her around.

"Six here that survived, and twenty more near a forest by the west wall, too wounded to run."

"I wish to speak to them next. Let us go! With haste!"

As the royal and her guards pushed on, Dennis turned to eye the man, this time making eye contact.

Sean paused and said, "Holy hell, Orville?"

"Hi." he grumbled, raising his hand.

"Jesus… You okay?"

Been fighting for damn near eight hours with no sleep…

Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

Instead, Dennis only said, "Oh, just dandy. You?”

“I’m doing fine, but… how’s the captain?”

“Of what ship?” he blurted out with no thought.

Sean stared at him, eyes widening.

Dennis scoffed at himself, shaking his head; then said, "Sorry... least, trying to… I dunno. Given the circumstances, figured it’d be somewhat lightening the mood. God, what a mess."

Sean turned to look at the carpet of bodies in the fields.

"They really did push hard here. What’s that? Must be, what, hundred bodies?”

Dennis shook his head, saying "Trying to focus on staying alive at the moment, man. Medieval or not, those arrows, their- their damned mindset…"

"Yeah, yeah... I know. Oh, Captain!"

Rhodes approached, rubbing at his eyes.

“Sean. You relieving us?”

“Yes, sir, guys are heading down already.”

Rhodes nodded, then said, “Alright, Orville, Hastings, Tom, come on.”

Sean blinked, looking around, “What about Alex?”

“Didn’t make it.” Dennis huffed, standing up.

Sean blinked, but said nothing further, nor did Dennis care to hear it.

First loss. First true loss in the war. The guy couldn’t have been much older than him. It wasn’t like there was much he could do about it. Could have done. Rhodes was quiet, too by now. They all were. Dennis didn’t want to think of the command structure and the letter that would have to be sent back.

It was like lightning suddenly.

A few yards down the street lay several bodies neatly lined in a row, all locals. A few women, some older, some younger, wailing as they identified their dead.

"Jesus..." Hastings grumbled as they walked past the scene.

The bodies had been recovered from the collapsed segment of the wall and placed to be identified. Dusty, pale, some with their eyes still open in frozen shock. Even though most of the wall had been cleared of local troops, when it all tumbled down, some who had been standing near it were too slow to move away from the collapsing pile of stones. Just plain bad luck. War.

He tried to ignore the flashes of memories, the pangs of guilt as he could only stand there confused as men in uniform handed his wailing mother a folded-up flag. His jaw clenched and he turned his gaze away from the scene, his grip on his rifle’s carry handle increasing with every step.

"They did their part…” Rhodes said simply, and that was it. Nothing else was needed as they walked on. Another UH-1 flew overhead, a red cross on its sides identified as an ambulance.

It quickly flew away.

His headache only got worse as they moved up to the palace.

They met the Green Berets at the entrance, one of the rabbit girls noting them as they marched in. They didn’t really say anything to the other, and the lone girl appeared surprised. She said nothing else as another servant girl spoke once they entered the area.

“This way, please.”

The bathhouse was built into the main palace and was really just a very large room with a fire in the middle.

“The bath is for your use today, gentlemen.” the girl stated, then walked away.

Dennis felt very little as he stripped off his dirty uniform. He’d noticed the dark, dried bloodstains, but he didn’t think about them. He grabbed a bucket of the hot water, glad for the respite as he poured it over his head in a corner of the room. He only wished the hot water would’ve lasted longer.

No one really spoke as they began to wash.

He didn’t look down as the dirt and grime filtered down onto the floor which, itself was an odd, smooth surface. Rome had a certain recipe for its concrete, but he decided to ask himself what type of mixtures the people here used.

It wasn’t really important to him.

Footsteps behind him got his attention.

“Hello.” the woman spoke, smiling, cat ears fluttered, and her servant clothes appeared already a touch damp, which was exposing her in a way that had to be on purpose, but he was just too tired to care.

All eyes turned to her, but no one really reacted, waiting for Dennis to just shoo her away.

“Concordia.” He grumbled, noting that Hastings was suddenly turning around. Neither complained, but neither approved, either.

“I bring towels.” she said, raising them slightly.

“Leave them there, please, and thank you.”

“Please and thank you? You warriors are so strange. It is quite adorable.”

“Please leave, madame.” he asserted, not feeling at all interested in the woman behind him or her implied offer.

“I have my reasons for being here.” She replied.

Alright, not implied...

He glanced at her, and she was eyeing up Hastings in a way he’d only seen men do to women at the lake. Maybe any other time no one would complain. Any other time, he was sure the guys there would've maybe turned a blind eye and walked out. But not today.

Rhodes grumbled, “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. Orville, tell her to get out of here, will you?”

“Concordia. Out.”

“Might I take Hastings with me?”

“No.” He said in English.

Hasting’s had, in one motion, turned at having heard his name called by Concordia, then clicked his tongue in frustration at hearing Dennis deny the woman, but to his credit, the man didn’t argue. Again, not today.

Concordia huffed, then asked, “Oh, do women not interest you at all?”

Another woman burst in, rabbit ears poked high up as she loudly said, “Concordia! Out!”

Now it was Concordia who clicked her tongue in frustration, but dropped the towels off and stepped out. The rabbit girl pushed her away and then said “Call if you need any more water! I shall ensure she does not bother you.”

Dennis sighed, then sat down, too tired to find the situation funny or frustrating or even embarrassing. He doubted he’d normally react so indifferently if a woman burst in while he was bathing normally. At least, intellectually, he knew the reaction wasn’t normal. Cat ears and tail aside, he could not deny that the gal was quite attractive.

But he was tired. Just tired.

US Marine Corps Forward Operating Base, Camp Basilone, Alpine Mountains

Isaac Hilaire stretched as he placed the camera down on the desk and took a seat, literally, grabbing the metal chair and dragging it to a wall before stretching and sitting half at an angle so he could partly balance against the wall.

“When’s the mail coming?” he asked as Milo followed him and looked around the near-empty area the Corps had set up for the Combat Cameras.

“We haven’t been here a month.”

“Man. Been quiet for the last couple of days.”

“Don’t you start-”

“I’m not! I just wish we had some TV or something, at least.”

“Yeah, well… wanna bet what photo will be on the cover of Time or People or something?”

“That one radio guy with the Tommy gun might be cover material. Oh, maybe that shot of the Fox girls will be featured. My shot, of course.”

“They’ve been photo op’d the most. I’d say-”

The door was flung open by Cooper.

“Hilaire? Miloradovic?”

“Sir?”

“Ack- yes, sir!” he managed to say as he stood at attention without tipping the chair over.

“How are you boys feeling?”

Is this a trap?

“Good, sir.” they both said.

“You boys alright with heading along on our next op? Your CO noted you guys can rotate around now that some other combat cams have arrived.”

They glanced at each other.

“I think we can handle it, sir.”

“Alright, well… we’re headed a bit northward. Recon has found some villages and Miss Talia has informed us that they’re some areas of interest. There might be civilians but primarily it’s an area of cultural interest, and we’ll need guys to document things there.”

“Understood, sir.”

“Alright, we’ll have a briefing at eighteen hundred, take a breather until then.”

“Oh, uh… sir?”

Cooper raised an eyebrow at him but did not tell him to shut up, so…

“Is Talia coming along?”

“Yes. This time she is indeed attached to the company. So keep it in your pants, kid.”

Hilaire winced but kept his mouth shut as Cooper walked off.

“Don’t lead her on.” Milo said.

“I won’t. I want to make it clear to her this time, you know?”

“Right. Right. Of course.”

“I mean it.”

“Sure, sure! I believe you.” Milo said, obviously not believing him at all.