NOVEL NEXT Chapter 645: We Kill Them
We Kill Them
While the news unsettled both the town and the camp, the prefects waited until more patrols could be sent and return, giving them a better understanding of the situation. The following night, having heard all reports, they gathered in the big tent where Eleanor and Lara usually worked.
"It is the Thirteenth and the Seventeenth," the legion prefect explained to the assembled commanders. "We estimate they have double our numbers."
"Who commands the Thirteenth?" asked Florence of the seventh cohort. Martel had made sure not only to familiarise himself with every prefect's name, but also which cohort they commanded.
"Still nobody since Aurelius got herself blasted by a cannon," Lucius explained. "They got that legion prefect, Sir Godwin or something."
"A shame," she muttered. "Two legates to argue over command might have helped us."
"Sir Godwin is a good fellow," Eleanor remarked, "and skilled. A pity he is on the wrong side."
"But the Seventeenth comes all the way up from Nahavand. They must have done a forced march to get here so fast, picking up the Thirteenth along the way," Lara continued. "Half of their forces are exhausted."
"They probably think we're too cowardly to face them in the field!" Lucius all but yelled. "That we'll hide while they besiege us!"
"What of our former enemies to help against the new ones?" asked Curtis of the eighth. "There's a whole Khivan army not too far. We can easily hold out until they arrive."
"We cannot do that," Lara claimed. "It is doubtful they would help us anyway – they would certainly never risk bringing their cannons here. But it would be disastrous for morale if the legionaries are to fight alongside the Khivans. Peace is one thing, but allies? Not to mention, fighting alongside the official enemy of the Empire makes us look like traitors. We would lose all support."
"Who commands the Seventeenth?" Martel asked, causing everyone to become still, looking at him.
"Legate Fulvius," Lara replied.
"He cannot have received orders from Morcaster to do this, right?" Martel considered. "They'll only just have received our message. He must be acting on his own."
"True," his legion prefect confirmed. "He is known to be rather hot-headed and impulsive. This fits his character that he would take matters into his own hands."
"Alright. We have to fight a battle," he continued, looking at his subordinates. "If they besiege us, we'll run out of supplies. And an Imperial fleet may show up to threaten us from the sea. Best we fight now while half their troops are exhausted."
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The prefects all murmured their assent.
"We have an advantage in terrain," Eleanor claimed.
"How so? All the land between here and the wetlands is flat, and it's too late to ambush them in the marshes," Vincent of the fifth cohort pointed out.
"We have control of the eastern bank. Once a battle begins, a cohort may cross the river further north and attack them from the rear. That would disintegrate their left flank," she argued.
"Excellent thinking," Lara admitted, sounding impressed.
"I have crossed that river quite a few times, as have the captain," came the reply from the new legate of the legion. "It has been inspirational."
"What about their battlemages?" Serena of the tenth cohort cleared her throat. "No disrespect, sir, we all know your abilities exceed theirs. But they can position theirs in two different places, wreaking havoc. An open battle on flat land invites disaster against such a disadvantage."
"The men will simply have to stand firm," Lucius said dismissively. "Staring death in the face is part of a battle."
"Perhaps, but even if the legate's plan will allow us victory, our losses against two battlemages will be exceedingly high," Serena retorted. "The High Council will not agree to our demands if we are reduced to a ragtag band of malcontents."
"We kill them," Martel said, mostly to himself, but everyone fell silent.
"Pardon me, sir?" Lara asked.
"Before the battle. We set a trap, something they can't resist. We kill their battlemages before the fight even begins."
Nobody spoke for a moment. "Just how might we do that, sir?" Lara finally dared to say.
"We offer something they can't refuse. Bait and trap in one. Me and Eleanor." He looked at his protector. He could not read her expression other than she seemed uncertain.
"Do you… have a plan to accomplish this, sir?" Lara asked.
Martel frowned, trying to organise his thoughts. The idea had come to him in vague form, and he wanted to explain it right. "We offer a deal. Tell them we want to avoid a battle, and we propose that we settle it with a duel. Our battlemage and his protector against both of their pairs. We win, they join our cause. We lose, we surrender. Well, you do," Martel added, looking around the semicircle. "Eleanor and me will be dead, but as the ringleaders, that's what they want anyway."
"Sir, a bold plan, but they would never honour such an agreement," a mageknight argued, whose name now escaped Martel; he felt tired but also distracted by his thoughts.
"Of course not," he replied. "But they might think we are foolish enough to trust them, and they'll have a chance to kill the leadership of our mutiny. Two battlemages and two mageknights against one of each – they'll take that chance."
"But you will defeat them, of course." His legion prefect spoke with less certainty in her voice than her words suggested.
"They will attack afterwards, battle ensues, but their strongest card has been taken from them." Martel glanced around the room.
Lara cleared her throat. "So all you and Sir Fontaine have to do is kill four battle-hardened wizards."
"Prefects," Eleanor said loudly, "the captain and I must speak alone."
***
Once the tent had been cleared, Eleanor looked at him. "Martel, what are you doing?"
"Alright, I didn't have time to explain. I have an idea, I just need the details in place."
"I know we have overcome difficult odds, but four mages? I have seen what you can do to a mageknight. If these battlemages are half as skilled as you, their spells will tear me to shreds."
"Obviously, I wouldn't suggest this if that was a risk," Martel tried to reassure her. "And you're right. I can handle those two mageknights with ease. The issue is the two battlemages – just like me, I imagine fire magic won't do much to them. So neither they nor me can use our best spells on each other."
"I will happily stab them both, except fire magic does very much work on me, and I will be dead long before I get close to them," Eleanor argued with an edge to her voice.
"That's my idea. I'll deal with the mageknights, you deal with the battlemages. Don't worry, I know just how to get you close to them." Martel smiled, feeling pleased with himself.
She sighed. "Fine. Tell me your plan."