“All clear.”
Bordan nodded to the leader of the group, and the four cloaked adventurers walked off to rejoin their banner. While all members of the Guild were versatile in their skill sets, most parties were weighted in one direction or the other. The first cohort included all of those that wore heavy armor, but Bordan had made sure that they also had some that were especially adept at scouting.
“Alright then, people, looks like the party here is over,” Bordan said loudly, addressing the two hundred warriors crouched among the trees behind him. “What do you say we go and see if the blueberries left us some dinner, eh?”
Chuckles and a few half-hearted cheers answered him, as the adventurers got to their feet and assembled to march on. It was the middle of the night, and it was clear that the stress of fighting and the subsequent flight through the pitch-black woods were beginning to take their toll. Even Edwin was looking forward to a plate of hot food and a chance to take off his boots.
After a few minutes, Edwin crested a small rise and stopped. He was looking out over the river Aste, what little moonlight there was reflecting from its almost-still surface. He continued down the other side, and after only a few meters his foot got caught on something heavy. Metal scraped on metal, and he bent down to inspect it. It was a corpse, a Marradi soldier with an arrow sticking from his throat. A short distance away there was a smack, and someone cursed quietly.
“I guess our archers really earned their pay today,” Bordan said. “Watch for the bodies, guys.”
The bridge was close now, and it was only a few minutes until the adventurers stepped onto the road.
“Who goes there?” a call came from the foot of the bridge. “Identify yourselves!”
“First cohort, ninth auxiliary!” Bordan shouted back. “Flanking force four.”
“Welcome back. Head on through, you’re the third group to make it back.”
The bridge, a sturdy stone construction almost as wide as two carts, was still held by a detachment of first battalion heavies. As the adventurers stepped into the light of their lanterns, the soldiers greeted them with smiles, and many a bumped fist and slapped back were exchanged as they passed by the guard post. A much more heartfelt greeting than they received before, Edwin thought, but victory had a tendency to bring people together.
The camp was a good distance past the bridge on the other side, far enough that fireballs or other artillery couldn’t reach it. The vision of hundreds of fires lighting up the night was very welcome to the weary warriors. They were stopped again at the edge of the camp, where the sentries directed them to the space that had been set aside for them, where the second cohort was already waiting.
“You guys go on ahead,” Bordan said. “I’ll report to command, see what the situation is. It doesn’t look like anything’s going on though, so you can get a head start on food and sleep.”
Food was an excellent idea, and once Edwin had a steaming bowl of stew in his hands, things looked up quite decisively.
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“Good to see you’re back,” Amos said, plopping down on the overturned box next to Edwin.
“Mmmh,” Edwin replied around a mouthful, gesturing with his spoon. He swallowed and continued more coherently. “You’re not at command with Bordan and Gerrack?”
“Nah, they’re just debriefing everyone that comes back, but they won’t decide anything. The tactical side of things doesn’t really concern me much anyway, I’m just in charge of logistics. That’s why I need to be here and make sure you guys have everything you need. Did the helmet work out?”
“Protected my noggin,” Edwin replied, rapping his knuckles against the item in question that was sitting on the ground next to his box.
“That’s what it’s supposed to do,” Amos said with a smile, “and from what I hear you can’t be bothered to do it yourself.”
“Har,” Edwin said flatly, eliciting a chuckle from the young lord.
“What’s up? Did things go badly?”
“No, they went fine. We got lucky, if anything. It’s just that…”
With a sigh, Edwin began to recount the end of the fight and how Bordan had accepted the Marradi surrender.
“…and I just don’t understand the reasoning, you know? If we could’ve taken them prisoner, sure, but while we’re sitting here they’re probably already armed and back in action. We had the opportunity to kill over a hundred of them, with very few casualties on our part. How could he not take that?”
Amos gave him a strange look, then tossed the stick he’d been poking the fire with into the flames.
“That seems strangely bloodthirsty, coming from you. I didn’t peg you as the murderous type.”
“What do you mean?” Edwin asked, frowning. “It’s not like I asked to be here. We got pulled into this against our will, if I may remind you, for the express purpose of killing Marradi.”
Amos studied him for a few seconds, then nodded. “I think I see the problem. You adventurers get sent out to hunt, right? A monster shows up, you find it and kill it.”
“Of course.”
“Right, so for you, the death of your opponent is the ultimate goal every time. In war, it’s different. Even though a lot more people die, killing is actually only a means to an end, not the end itself. Look at the enemy today: They wanted to get past us. If they could have, they wouldn’t have fought us at all. But we didn’t let them pass, so they had to make us let them. The easiest way to do that is to kill us. It’s the same with your assignment. You were sent out to destroy their supplies, you only fought them because they were trying to stop you.”
“Huh,” Edwin said, leaning back. Now that Amos said it out loud, it seemed obvious, but he’d never thought about that before. The Marradi soldiers were the entire reason they were here, which meant they had to die before there could be peace. Or maybe not?
“You also need to remember that Bordan, like the other older soldiers, grew up in a different kind of war than we’re in now.”
“How do you mean?”
“It’s much more ruthless and uncompromising now than it was two years ago. I can only imagine how hard it is for them to adjust.”
Seeing Edwin’s puzzled expression, Amos smiled. It was a sad smile, as the topic was a somber one, but the historian in him couldn’t help but rejoice at the opportunity to share his knowledge.
“Before all of this madness started, people were much more reasonable. Most of the war was about outmaneuvering the opponent, drawing them out of position and slipping in behind them, or cutting off and surrounding parts of a division. Most of the time if victory seemed unlikely, armies would choose to retreat instead of fighting altogether, and if a unit was surrounded and retreat wasn’t an option, they would surrender and let themselves be taken prisoner, to be exchanged later. Only once every few years would a real battle take place, and even then casualties were reasonably light.”
“Why?” Edwin asked.
“It all goes back to the ‘Noble Pursuit’ of the kingdom’s aristocracy. You know the political landscape pre-Exile, so I won’t go into it overly much and bore you, but…”
“I don’t,” Leodin said from Edwin’s left. “Bore me, please.”
Several of the other adventurers around the fire made affirming noises, and Amos laughed.
“Very well, then I’ll start a little further back. The kingdom our ancestors hailed from was divided into duchies…”