27 Tavorhel. The first day of the ninth month.
The sentries of Maerila stood guard nervously behind their walls. Over the past two weeks, the soldiers had somewhat reorganised themselves, electing one of General Arael’s lieutenants, Teraiil, as the deputy commander of all troops in the city. Over twenty thousand of them sat waiting for the Foresters, helplessly watching as those barbaric mercenaries stole and pillaged the unprotected farms, burning away their crops and slaughtering their people. Meanwhile, they were rapidly consuming the city’s limited food supply stores. For a provincial capital, Maerila naturally had much stored and ready for the winter, but those supplies were intended for its civilian population of nearly a hundred thousand. Furthermore, it wasn’t even time for the fall harvest yet, the food stores half empty even before the troops had come to defend the city.
They needed at least something from the Foresters.
Teraiil paced around the governor’s office, alternating between looking at the floor and ceiling. Situated at the very centre of Maerila, the city hall was the safest area from which the officials and military high command could gather and discuss any further directions. Only a month ago, the city was situated far from the front, the citizens going about their day as if there wasn’t even a war. The local government, away from the prying eyes of the capital, could do as they please, letting the city run itself while they enjoyed their parties and social events.
Now, over half the attendees in the room were military personnel, their swords and spears in control of the fate of many thousands. Instead of bustling markets and busy streets, there were long food queues, the soldiers distributing rations to each inhabitant every day. Supplies were constantly imported from the nearby towns and cities, but those always ran the risk of being raided by the Foresters. The city still had much wealth in their treasury, but it was dwindling by the day.
‘Say, Governor,’ Teraiil inquired. ‘How much more food do we have based on our current rationing system?’
‘The food definitely won't last till the next spring,’ the governor anxiously answered. ‘I fear that—’
‘When will the city run out of food?’ Teraiil interrupted.
‘U-Until around the first month of the next year.’
‘Good enough.’ He continued to pace around the room, tensions running high even in the middle of the night.
‘Deputy Commander,’ an official in the room asked. ‘Why haven’t we made a single move since we retreated into the city? We clearly outnumber the Foresters and are also more well-equipped. The soldiers’ morale has largely recovered after our setback, but they’re also becoming restless. If we continue to just sit here and wait, we’re just going to waste food and energy for nothing.’
‘We’re not prepared,’ Teraiil replied straightforwardly.
‘It’s already been two weeks, Deputy Commander.’
‘Have you not seen how we struggled to even stop the Foresters from deserting? If I had a normal army, I’d have charged out the day after we regrouped here.’
The reserve troops were still far weaker than Teraiil expected. Despite having some military training, they lacked the discipline and composure of professional soldiers. The fact that the detachment into the forest, supposedly made of the finest troops in the region, fled with the general dead and the crown prince captured was a very poor sign of the troops’ abilities.
He and the other lieutenants’ heads were already in grave danger. If Maerila fell, it was practically guaranteed that they would be executed via martial law. There was no room for error or risk.
‘Deputy Commander, please at least send a small detachment of troops to threaten the Foresters,’ the governor pleaded. ‘Then our farms and fields would at least not be as ransacked as they are right now.’
‘No,’ Teraiil firmly replied. ‘Until the discipline of the reserves are improved to be at least equivalent to the regulars, I will not send any of my men to their deaths.’
‘Deputy Commander, there is a limit to your conservative strategy!’
‘It is final,’ Teraiil said, glaring at the governor in disdain. ‘A civilian has no right to question the work of a military professional in war.’
‘Hey—’
There was no further room for negotiation. Disappointed, he left the room as his entourage of officers followed behind him.
‘The city still acts as if this isn’t some extraordinary circumstance…’ he muttered.
‘Where are we going next?’ one of his aides asked.
‘The brothels, naturally,’ Teraiil answered. ‘Too much frustration pent up from this day of unproductiveness.’
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27 Tavorhel. The second day of the ninth month.
The group of officers staggered out to the streets, waving clumsily at the closed windows of a house. It was dawn, the first rays of light warmly touching their faces. The daily training for the soldiers was about to begin, but none of them were ready to even return to their barracks.
Teraiil hobbled on the street as he leaned on another officer’s shoulder, his uniform unkempt, his body stinking of alcohol. It was quite an eventful night, a stark contrast to the boring talks with the governor yesterday. A bit too eventful, perhaps, as he felt his stomach toss and turn, his body weak from all the beer and physical activity. An intense headache was raging, his vision blurred as he felt his head spin.
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
He suddenly lurched forward, vomit spewing out of his mouth. He coughed violently, the acidic liquids burning his throat.
‘So much for being “professional”, eh?’ a soldier laughed. ‘Look at us completely wasted!’
‘S… Shut up,’ Teraill groaned. ‘Water… I need water…’
‘Looks like our deputy commander has, hic, had fun!’ a second soldier grinned as he patted Teraill’s back, inducing another round of vomit.
‘The women of the city are just too good…’ a third mumbled. ‘Their breasts in particular are just so… ehehe…’
‘Nah, their thighs are better.’
‘And the way they just… AHAHAHAHA!’
There was no sense of dignity in the group, their loud laughter more akin to a group of ruffians than high-ranking officials in the Trelvenese army. From the day General Arael had died, they had engaged in a strict schedule of serious matters at day and relaxation at night. Teraiil had promised he would protect their ‘privileges’, and naturally, the officials voted for the one that benefitted them.
General Arael’s way of leadership bored Teraiil. Sure, he was an extremely efficient leader who knew how to organise troops and handle logistics well, but he never really knew how to relax, and that extended to the lieutenants. It just wasn’t enjoyable at all being by such a man’s side, a man who was strict towards himself and others.
Like the other lieutenants, Teraiil was shocked when the news of General Arael’s death arrived, especially when the surviving soldiers reported fighting only a single Forester in that skirmish. It was nearly amusing the way a general would just die in an unnamed forest, killed by a single rebel. However, Teraiil had quickly recovered from that, and as soon as he was elected, he had led the troops inside the city, where they’d sit and prepare until the Foresters decided to attack. It was a simple plan, not really something General Arael would approve of. But that didn’t matter. The general was dead.
Harshly disciplining and training the soldiers by day, at the brothels and taverns by night. That was Teraiil’s way. Sure, it was passive. But he wasn’t needlessly sacrificing anyone or himself for that matter.
The general was just stupid to be that involved with a small rebellion.
‘Hehe…’ he grinned. He might’ve gone overboard, but nothing an intense training session wouldn’t fix.
‘Attack! Attack!’ The sentries shouted from their watchtowers.
‘Huh…?’ Teraiil looked up in a daze.
The siren bells tolled, and in a moment, the city was in a state of panic, the windows all shut and the people quickly returning inside their houses. Apparently that was the protocol set forth by the city government. Well, it sure was surprising the people were that efficient with hiding themselves.
Right. The Foresters were finally attacking the city. What perfect timing too, as all the troops were currently freshly awake, awaiting his orders.
Awaiting his orders.
‘Shit.’ He finally woke up from his state of drunkenness. The headache was stinging more than ever, his body barely even listening to the commands from his brain. He reached for his sword… It wasn’t there. He probably left it at a brothel. Too late to grab it now.
‘Heyyy… What’s happening?’ a soldier mused.
‘Wake up, idiots!’ Teraiil roared. ‘The Foresters are attacking!’
‘Oh, are they…?’
‘WAKE UP!’
Around half of them finally became somewhat sober, consumed with guilt for what they had done. The one time they went overboard with their nightly activities, the Foresters attacked. Teraiil had established a network of command after General Arael’s death to prevent such disarray again, but that did not account for the entire high command to start the day completely drunk.
This was absolutely terrible timing.
‘Get to your troops,’ he ordered. ‘I’ll rush to headquarters and—’
He slipped on his own vomit. Landing on the hard ground, bits of liquid splattered on his clothing, the stench torturing his nose.
‘D-Deputy!’ The officers hurriedly picked him back up, their feet still stumbling a little from the effects of alcohol.
‘I’m f-fine,’ Teraiil shook them off, putting a strong effort to ignore the stains. ‘Just go.’
They scattered, each rushing off to their own stations, some still staggering and tripping as they went. The casual atmosphere earlier was completely broken. Twenty thousand troops awaited for Teraiil’s command. They were probably near engagement at this point, the soldiers confused at the lack of orders.
What terrible timing indeed.
He heard sounds of explosions, most likely from the eastern walls. Soldiers were shouting and gathering at a particular section of the wall, large trebuchets and mangonels firing their projectiles repeatedly over the walls. Streaks of energy flew in the sky before dissipating into the air, cutting through the clouds of smoke rising from the outside.
The soldiers from the other sections, however, still refused to budge, watching their comrades fight valiantly against the attackers. Of course. They hadn’t received a single command yet. They were only supposed to defend their side of the walls unless Teraiil himself gave the orders from the headquarters.
He was still quite some distance away.
‘Everyone! Stay in your homes and do not come out until further notice!’ a young boy shouted as he ran past Teraiil. ‘Stay in your homes and do not come out until further notice! This is an order from the governor!’
‘Ugh…’ Teraiil grimaced. ‘Those civilians…’
Thankfully, the headquarters wasn’t far away. He dashed past the doors and the saluting guards, quickly making his way to the command room nestled at the top of the building, overlooking the entire city. Several curious soldiers looked at his uniform, but he could care less about their rude glances right now. At this moment, there was only the battle.
‘Deputy Commander!’ The messengers were already gathered, waiting for his entry. ‘Where are the other lieutenants? And your clothes…’
‘They’ll… be here shortly,’ Teraiil breathed heavily. In addition to the headache, his entire body was throbbing with pain.
‘What are your orders? The soldiers have already engaged with the Foresters. Should we prepare an army for open battle or—’
‘No need,’ he quickly closed the suggestion down. ‘Just redirect half of the projectiles from the northern and southern walls to the eastern wall. If the troops require personnel support later, I will give that order. For now, just fire whatever we have from the safety of our walls.’
‘There are only a few hundred men manning each sub-section of the walls. Most of the soldiers are still posted to their barracks, waiting for your orders.’
‘I know. They’re not needed right now.’
‘But—’
‘We minimise the amount of troops in engagement, we keep our troops fresh. If this turns into a siege, I’ll rotate the troops every night. This is a battle of defence, not a hasty offence.’
It was fortunate his mind was still sound after such a night.
‘Now go,’ he commanded. ‘Tell the commanding officers of each wall what I’ve said.’
‘But they weren’t at their stations—’
‘They should be by now. Now go, go!’
After a salute, the messengers departed from the room, leaving Teraiil alone to overlook the battle.
‘Ugh…’ he groaned. ‘Going to be a while before I can spend a night there again…’