“Well, this is a shitshow.”
Leonard was tempted to reprimand Oliver for his language, but he had privately said much worse about it, so he merely sighed. The situation in Woodsman’s town had been difficult to solve, and though a quick push with the main army had managed to send the royalist troops fleeing back towards Treon, word of the death and destruction brought by the 4th Corp would no doubt spread.
Now that command of the town had been reestablished, he should have been able to relax. Amelia’s last report had shown that Count Pollus was still in the northeast, busy putting out the fires she kept lighting up and likely preparing for a confrontation with an army that didn’t exist.
It was the ideal situation for him to consolidate the territory he had conquered with the latest push and prepare for the assault on Treon’s surroundings, which he would need to scour free of Locke’s troops to then besiege the city itself.
Unfortunately, this blunder meant he needed to reevaluate things. He had called a meeting of the brass, and while waiting for them to arrive, he requested Damien come by to give him a report on the damage done. Despite the setback, Leonard was determined to find a way forward.
“Not exactly how I would have put it, but it’s certainly not ideal,” The vicar replied, intensely staring at the map open on the table. “Our initial plan was to repeat our success with Thelma’s slaves in Treon as well, and to that effect, Lady Lia, Lady Amelia, and I had deployed and recruited several agents, but this will throw a wrench in the plans. I wouldn’t say they aren’t feasible anymore, but news has already started spreading about the massacre of Woodsman’s Town. While no one expects war to be bloodless, our moral high ground has been compromised.”
That was the source of Leonard’s headaches. Captain Rubeus was dead and had been for long enough that [Resurrection] couldn’t bring him back, but even had it been possible, Leonard wasn’t sure he would have done it. The man had botched the whole operation so severely that it had significantly harmed the overall strategy to take Treon! How exactly he had lost control of his troops was still up to debate, but the witness accounts of those soldiers who had kept their wits and organized the retreat were damning.
“Should we expect a prolonged siege, then? If the people of Treon believe we are bloodthirsty monsters, they’ll fight us to the death,” Oliver asked, lips pressed together tightly.
It was a daunting prospect. A siege would mean an unacceptable loss of life both in the army and in the city, and it would allow Count Pollus the time to reach them in unfavorable terrain, no matter how effective Amelia was in the northeast.
“It is possible, though I would caution you that there was always a chance it would end up this way. Treon’s protections are significantly more powerful than we have encountered so far, and its population has only heard propaganda about us for the last months.” Damien answered. His calm way of putting things into perspective was one of his best qualities.
At that moment, people started streaming into the tent, led by Gerard, who had a grim expression. Leonard waited until the last was in before casting [Silence], preventing any diviner from snooping in.
Given how unfocused and disorganized the loyalists had been, they hadn’t been worried about such spying initially, but after the ambush at Woodsman’s Town, they started taking greater precautions.
“Anything new?”
Gerard sat down heavily, running a hand over his face. Leonard knew he hadn’t slept for the past couple of days, having been busy with the cleanup and organizing the scouting missions. Since the enemy army was close now, they needed to ensure escape routes and rough terrain were accounted for, which meant practically redoing their maps. Those they had used so far were old and mostly cared for merchant routes rather than providing military-level information.
“I believe we have finally finished scouring the nearby countryside for fleeing civilians, but we still haven’t found any soldiers, which makes me think we are dealing with a much more professional force than any we have met so far.” Gerard’s conclusion aligned with his own. It would make sense for such a perfect ambush to be organized by an elite squad. Since General Locke was still slowed down by the bureaucracy and red tape in Treon, he’d send the best he had available to harass the Revolutionaries. Much like they had done in the north.
It’s surprisingly annoying to have a competent enemy. Even more so when our tactics are thrown back into our faces, and we don’t see it coming.
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“Still, the losses aren’t as bad as we initially thought. The 4th’s Sergeant who organized the retreat was quite thorough in his efforts, and he might have singlehandedly saved us from a humiliating defeat.” Gerard then gestured for one of his adjutants, who snapped a crisp salute and continued the explanation, “From multiple witness accounts and thorough scrying of the area, we were able to determine that the enemy was led by a Colonel Vokoss, who has earned significant merits by leading an elite squad again the furthest reaches of the Incursion in the region and keeping Treon free of the Void. He currently has around three hundred men with him, though we believe he’s marching back to a rendezvous point to meet up with a larger force. This squad is estimated to be made of two hundred ninety Journeymen and up to ten Experts, explaining how they could move unnoticed at night and set up the trap in Woodsman’s Town without alerting our scouts.”
A more in-depth written report was passed around, with notes from the various rangers on the specific traces they had found and from David’s team of Divination Mages, who would receive a bonus and an order from Leonard to recruit more men. His decision to spare the kid’s life was proving quite the coup.
“Alright, this explains what went wrong. What are we doing to prevent a catastrophe of this size from happening again?”
At Leonard’s question, his subordinates looked at each other before an adjutant gulped and spoke up, “With your permission, Grand Marshal, we believe that implementing more through scouting before major advances and coupling those with smaller, faster teams of elites would allow us to keep our pace but to be protected from falling into traps like this again.”
Knowing it couldn’t have come from anyone else, Leonard turned to Gareth, who had been uncharacteristically quiet.
“This is why I insisted on concentrating on quality over quantity. As long as the army is with you, Sir Leonard, we don’t have anything to fear from ants like Vokoss, but once we are alone, we are as mortal as anyone else. We must create independent units who can lead ahead of our larger Corps.” Knowing that Gareth only said what he meant to and that if he had a real problem with the leadership, he would have been explicit with his words rather than veil them in subtle insults, Leonard didn’t take offense and gave Damien a stern look, halting him from reprimanding the man. Hell would freeze over before he created an environment where his men couldn’t speak their minds during important meetings.
“Alright, let’s do that. Oliver, send word to Lia to start prioritizing the squads that Gareth will identify. I want as many potions and defensive artifacts as possible.” His squire saluted and, at his gesture, left the tent. Turning to the adjutants, he gave them their orders, “Send out word that I want the terrain from here to Stonebridge completely mapped out. No more surprises.”
Only when he was left alone with his three Ministers did Leonard relax. He sighed, reaching for a bottle of wine and twisting his finger to remove the cap. The three men accepted a glass and sat quietly, savoring the Brander white.
“It’s a new vintage they are making in the Republic. The merchants brought me a cask as a gift,” He murmured, earning a snort from Gerard.
“They might be our best allies, but I wouldn’t trust them. They always want to earn something with everything they do.”
Leonard allowed himself a smile. For all his talent as a commander and ability to raise competent troops seemingly in a fraction of the time it would take others, Gerard was still very much a salt-of-the-earth patriot. He didn’t like depending on foreign nations, much less trusted them.
Not that Leonard did either, but he had come to an agreement with Brander. It would take a while to show its worth, but he was pretty sure they wouldn’t be able to refuse him once they saw the writing on the walls. Not with the way Hammerfest was muscling in on the western Serpent Sea trade routes.
“Everybody wants something,” Damien snorted, eyes glinting in the half-light.
Leonard chuckled, shaking his head. His friends and advisors were quite pessimistic, but considering how things were going, it was better to be prepared for the worst. “We need to take Stonebridge before they can reinforce the crossing. It should be easier than Fort Genus, what with it being an entire town built around the river, but if they can place enough artillery on the other bank, we’ll pay dearly for every inch we take.”
“Send Neer,” Gareth said, surprising him. “Oh, I’d love to do it myself, but this is a good chance to test the new teams under different leadership. She’s sturdy enough that she should be able to prevent any catastrophic loss before reinforcements can arrive. Stonebridge is important but not vital. We can afford to use it to test the new doctrine.”
Leonard mulled over the matter, trying to game out how it would go. Initially, he had wanted to send Gerard directly to oversee the operation, as it would guarantee a smooth rollout. They needed a decisive victory to leave the mess at Woodsman’s Town behind. Still, Gareth was right that they should test the tactic’s efficacy before using it in the real campaign. It was easy to forget that this was only the beginning. Haylich was a big country, and his plans didn’t stop at Hetnia’s borders.
“Alright, Neer will lead the charge to Stonebridge. Let’s make sure we give her all the intel we can, and Damien, while the initial plan for Treon might not work out, it doesn’t mean you shouldn’t keep working on it. Anything we can get to speed up the process is worth its weight in gold. If you need some coin to grease palms, it’s yours.”
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Planning sessions always left Leonard drained. They were part and parcel of the path he had chosen, and he would always give it his all, but in the privacy of his thoughts, he could lament how much more quickly he could solve problems on his own if only he stopped caring about collateral damage.
It was a constant battle inside him, and he did his best to keep it private. It wouldn’t do for anyone else to understand how close their leader was to burning it all down.
Whenever one of these moods struck him, Leonard moved away from the main camp. The quiet of the Darkwood and Nemas's subtle, watchful presence always helped him recenter his thoughts.
Before he could fall into meditation, he was interrupted. While this would have irritated him normally, Leonard immediately recognized the blazing presence—among a hundred others! Which he should have expected, to be fair—that appeared on the other side of the clearing and opened his eyes with a smile. “Jean! Welcome to the Revolution.”
His young friend stood there for a moment longer, seemingly unbelieving that she was actually there. Still, the indecision lasted only momentarily because she dropped her bags next to the group of orphans, noble brats, and the patiently smiling matron she had taken along and ran across the clearing, all but jumping in Leonard’s arms. “I couldn’t let you do this alone. Knowing you, there wouldn't be a duchy by the time you got done.” She murmured in his chest, squeezing as hard as she could.
Leonard laughed happily, cradling the girl. Some things might not have gone according to plan, but the Revolution had just converted a major player. Victory was closer than ever before.