"What's wrong, young Mukuru?" came a voice from the door. "If you don’t stop jumping around soon, you’ll regret it tomorrow. "
Ervinos paid his mother no heed, tossing and turning in bed trying to find a way to sleep. Finally, he turned to face her and replied sullenly, "Why do we have to listen to those Diaf bullies? I know we have to host them whenever they declare a visit to Paligxulu, but every second word they say is an insult to our kingdom! I thought we were supposed to honour and protect the Ikona name, but even you and Father smiled and bowed before their ambassador."
Anna Mukuru couldn't help but laugh. Of course, the young master would be offended by the Empire's delegation; the envoys' children had spent hours talking about how the Ikona capital of Thalassanqaba was "a little bigger than a town". Any 7-year-old who had grown up on stories of the greatness of the Kingdom of Ikona would feel the same, imagine how he would react if she told him how much gold and labour they were forced to pay as tribute every year!
“I can tell you if you want. But it's not a happy story. The Mukuru usually wait till their children are old enough to understand it before they pass on this tale. Do you think you’re ready?”
Ervinos straightened up, he could tell his mother was watching him closely. “I will listen carefully, Mother,” he promised, with a serious look on his face.
“Then let me ask you some questions. First, who are the Mukuru?”
“The paragon of strategy, the family which has commanded the Ikona military for centuries, the strongest family in the whole world” came a quick reply, filled with pride.
“Mostly correct. Now you will remember the farms around Thalassanqaba. The nobles there are richer than most, and some say they are wealthier than even the Ikona royal family. So why do they call the head of the Ikona family their queen?”
Ervin paused for a moment. He had never heard anyone call the queen of Ikona the ‘head of the Ikona family’. “Well that's only natural”, he replied eventually, “they are Ikona subjects after all.”
“That’s the correct answer if you are speaking to anyone other than me or your father.” Anna replied nonchalantly, “But here, that is the wrong answer.”
The little boy was stunned. How could the authority of the Ikona not apply to their own people? What was his mother trying to tell him? “The queen of Ikona is just and capable” the boy tried again, “she is loved by her people and brings prosperity to the land. The nobles see that and swear loyalty to her.”
“It’s true, the queen is a visionary woman. The people come out in droves to see her whenever she holds an official ceremony. ” his mother frowned, “But it seems you are not yet ready, young one, you know what a Mukuru is but can’t yet think like one”
“Wait wait, one more chance please!” begged the 7-year-old, he could never bear to disappoint his elders, and tonight felt like an opportunity he couldn’t miss.
“Think like a Mukuru”, Ervin told himself, “what would we do if the nobles acted disloyally to the crown.”
“We would crush them.” he said finally, “the nobles can have all the gold in the world, if they stop respecting the queen, she would send us to burn their manors to the ground. Their money would not save them.”
“Exactly,” his mother smiled, “now tell me, Ervin, why do we have to listen to those bullies from the Diafthoreat Empire?”
“Because.…they would crush us?” Ervin did not believe his own answer, the Diaf ambassador could boast all he wanted, but on the battlefield, he could never compare to the might of -
“Exactly, ” his mother confirmed, “Because the Mukuru are the strongest in Ikona, not the South, and certainly not all the world.”
Ervin froze. He would sit with his father as he made battle plans against the bandits from the borderlands, and he could recite countless stories of his mother's victories against river pirates. They had never lost an encounter, so how could they be weaker than anyone?
“It’s not the story we’ve told you so far, I know. ” Anna put her confused child's head on her lap as she continued, “But it’s about time you realise our true place in the world.”
“But how do we know they would crush us, Mother?” argued the boy, grasping at straws to save his family’s immortality, “When Father came back from his latest operation in the borderland swamps, he told you that he was expecting to lose far more men than he actually did! We never know until we try!”
“I’ll ignore the fact that you were eavesdropping on us just this once” Anna declared, shooting the little rebel a disciplinary glare, “But your confidence is something we have raised you to have, so I do not blame you. After all, you have never seen magic.”
Ervin's eyes widened, “listen close, my dear, this is the tale the Mukuru must never forget”
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Michail Ighora wiped the sweat off his brow as he stared into the distance. He could see that dreaded crest on the banners now. The shining golden palm meant only one thing - it was time for battle. It was his 5th year in the Ikona infantry, and it would be his 15th major battle, a testament to the tenacity of the Diafthoreat Empire.
He scanned the terrain for any odd features, a meaningless activity for an infantryman with no troops under him, but he wasn’t planning on staying in the lower ranks forever. “Flat plains, clear weather, no room for trickery”, he thought. He noted the geography: the fields stretched on all sides, with the Mol river and North Sea enclosing the entire area in front of the Ikona army. He turned to face the Ikona fort city of Paligxulu, as he walked towards the sharpening stone to get his sword ready for combat.
When he got there, he saw it was occupied, but it seemed the boy at the wheel had no idea what he was doing. “If you keep pushing and using that angle there’s no point in sharpening it at all boy” he barked immediately, Michail had no patience for niceties, never mind right before combat.
“I’m sorry sir, I’ve never done this before. This… this is my first battle” stammered the new recruit.
“Move aside then”, Michail murmured as he took the wheel, “I can sharpen two swords today”.
“Thank you so much sir!” shouted the young pup, throwing a clumsy salute. “I am Krymenos of the Umpetha. I joined the military this year to defend our land against the Diaf invaders.”
“Don’t worry about it”, chuckled Michail. He thought back to his first battle 5 years ago, as someone who spent the night before in the sick tent, he had no right to judge. “If this is your first battle then remember these simple rules when the fighting starts: never turn your back to the enemy at the front, your shield is far more important than your sword and never try to fight a mage without considerable support. I am the Ighora families eldest son, Michail, this is my 5th year of service.”
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Krymenos’s mouth dropped, “So you were at the battle of Mol river, where General Hagnon routed the Imperium! Please, you have to tell me about it. Were his tactics as visionary as they say?”
Several heads turned at the mention of the great battle of Mol river, “I was in the vanguard” Michail affirmed, keeping his beaming smile suppressed to maintain an aura of mystery. “Everything you’ve heard about the Mukuru is true. I’ve fought under him several times now, and it’s quite clear he sees the battlefield in a way that we can’t comprehend.”
The crowd grew as the son of the Ighora used the opportunity to build some reputation for himself, “At Mol we met a force three times our size and walked away with half the men lost. My squadron killed several mages, I managed to kill 4 men just by myself, and I saw one of the magic Hatha warriors summon winds strong enough to capsize a river boat. If this battle is anything like that one, we’ll be back in Paligxulu by nightfall.”
Stating his own achievements in the same breath as those of a Hatha warrior, the most experienced troops of the Ikona, did little to hurt his reputation.
“I heard that all ten thousand of our magical battalion, the Hatha, have been recalled for this attack!” came a voice from the gathering, “Even Sciprio doesn’t stand a chance against them.”
The crowd shrunk a little at the mention of the opposing general, the prodigal water mage had won too many battles to be taken lightly. Since his appointment, the Ikona had been pushed back until they could no longer afford to retreat. The river and castle moats that used to aid the Ikona would turn into enemy weapons when Sciprio was around. Perhaps that is why Hagnon Mukuru chose to engage on the flat plains, instead of the usually invincible Paligxulu moat.
“By god, look over there.” came an excited voice from the crowd, as Michail felt the gaze of the crowd slip away from him. The new object of admiration was a man 20 metres away, adorned with a rose gold crest bearing the mark of the closed fist- it was Vice General Shuuja.
The chatter turned to silence as the newcomers took in their first glimpse of the mythical figure. “Do you think he’ll say yes if we ask him to show us his wind magic?” came a whisper from the crowd. “There can’t be more than 20 fighters here who have advanced magic, this might be our only chance!”
As soon as the suggestion was made, Shuuja glared at the crowd. “You fool, just because we can’t hear him from here doesn’t mean it goes both ways.” came a caution from one of the new recruits. “We are sorry sir, we will get back to work. ” said another saluting soldier, leading to the crowd's rapid dispersal.
“Well then, ” Krymenos probed, now that he and Michail were alone again, “Sir Michail, if the senior commanders all have advanced magic, is there a point to us non-magical infantry even being here?”
“You clearly misunderstand what ‘magic’ is,” remarked the Ighora, “Listen, I’ve been in the same school lessons that you have been. I remember my teacher saying that all substances in the world are made up of Earth, Fire, Air or Water and that magic, the ability to control one of these elements, makes people superhuman and invincible. But think about it, you’ve seen people use magic in our everyday lives to pull our carts and water our fields. Everyone has some amount of magic, do you think advanced magic users are any different? They simply have more control, capacity and experience using magic in battle.”
“Then I could also be like Commander Shuuja soon? My Earth magic is still at a novice level, but I can practise.” blurted the excited Umpetha.
“Make no mistake, you fool, these are masters who excel in one-on-one combat, and if used strategically their powers can turn the tide of a battle. I’ve seen Sciprio lift entire river boat fleets out of the water and turn rain into a deadly storm of blades. Do you see where Commander Shuuja is now? Not only can he fly using his wind magic, he could easily strike either of us down with a javelin right now. Unless your Earth magic can make the battlefield tremble, you have a long way to go.”
The Umpetha said nothing, staring with awe and a hint of disappointment as the commander disappeared into the tent.
“But even advanced mages need an army like us to support them.” smirked Michail, “They get tired and need to rest between casting their magic and if a regular squadron manages to surround a powerful mage the magician will usually fall. Every soldier matters, boy, there is pride in the infantry too.”
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“General, the scouts are back with their report. Diaf’s infantry numbers around thirty thousand to our fifty, but their rapid movement mage squadrons stand at four thousand, which is twice ours.” reported an adjutant.
“That much is to be expected, this isn’t the extent of the Empire's forces, are they really not serious about taking us?” laughed Shuuja, turning to face his commander only to see a rather grave face. “What’s wrong, Hagnon? This seems like good news. We have 80 heavyweight rock carriers on our side, which should more than make up for a lack of rapid movement forces.”
“A quarter of those rock carriers were enlisted too recently for me to trust them completely in their forward charge, ” cautioned Mukuru. The rock carrier was a traditional Ikona unit of Earth mages who used their powers to carry huge boulders and charge straight at the enemy. In the past it had confused the Diaf and caused disarray in their front, but the latest batch of carriers was more inexperienced than ever before.
“My worries go past this battle…. Still it doesn’t matter, for now, we focus on the enemy in front of us.”
He stared at the plan his war council arrived at[1] (CHECK FOOTNOTES FOR BATTLE MAPS): they would line up with 3 rows of infantry, with the Hatha at the rear and newcomers in the middle, the rapid movement units would be split equally on the flanks and the rock chargers would take centre stage. Just like they had at Mol crossing, the chargers would go first, tunnelling through the Diaf ranks. The Ikona rapid mages had fewer numbers and worse mobility, but they would be sufficient to keep their counterparts occupied and prevent them from playing a decisive role. Then it would be infantry against infantry, a battle they were sure to win.
“Are you sure about this commander?” spoke up another voice in the room, pointing to the Hatha’s positioning in the lines, “We could lose fewer people if we let the Hatha go before the newest recruits. We risk losing the battle if we trust the newbies to keep the pressure up on the front lines.”
“You aren’t wrong,” admitted Hagnon, “but we can’t afford to lose any more Hatha than we already have. Like the Vice General said, this is likely not even the main invasion. If we cannot win with a limited loss to our main force now, we stand no chance in the battles to come. In fact, after this battle, we cannot stand still, we need to march and hold a more favourable position before the next wave comes. ”
Shuuja raised his eyebrows, understanding the grave look on his commander's face a little better now.
“Then I will relay your orders to the troops”, said another general, going out to get the formation set up, as Mukuru sank into his chair, deep in thought. Eventually he raised his head and turned to his Vice General.
“You will not be part of the formation today” he said calmly.
“But sir-” started the Shuuja
“I have another task for you. It is more important than the rest of the battle. You can take 5 other advanced mages with you.”
The General pointed at a piece on the battle map, the golden hand, meant to represent the leader of the enemy forces. Without another word, the son of the Shuuja understood his assignment.
-------
Michail checked his surroundings to confirm that he was in the correct position. He had been placed in the vanguard yet again, the first row on the left wing, before the rapid mages on the flank. This filled him with pride, if the wings gave up too much ground then the enemy could easily encircle the formation and destroy the line, naturally then, a position on the wings meant the higher-ups were noting his good performance.
He turned around to see a familiar face in the line behind him, waving furiously. Krymenos, now quivering in his boots, was more towards the centre, but still on the left of the second line. If the first line did their job well enough, it would lessen the pressure on the novices. Michail was a bit concerned that he could see no Hatha, but the array of rock chargers in front of him was more than enough to calm his nerves. As the sun reached its peak, he assessed the formation that enemy general Sciprio had chosen. It seemed to nearly mirror theirs, Michail could see a single line of infantry with rapid mages on both flanks. From this distance, it was hard to say exactly how many lines the Imperium was holding behind the first, but what was plainly clear to see was that they had not yet learned how to use rock chargers in war. All he had to do now was wait for the battle to start……
An hour later, Michail had not moved. He could hear groans of frustration from the line behind him, but there was enough experience in his line for them to realise that one should savour the time they had before the battle starts because once it does things move too quickly for comfort. At last, the Imperium formation showed movement, a temporary gap in the flank opposite Michail was opened to allow a small band of warriors wearing white cloaks to pass through, heading straight to the left column of rock chargers. The trumpets rang on both sides, the soldiers tightened their fists, and the wait was over.