DF258 - Kid Fears (Patreon)

“This is what we were worried about,” Duke Nisha Ariman intoned.

“This is what you were worried about,” Anton retorted. “I was mostly concerned with Prince Mazir doubling back and attacking Kirido. That hasn’t happened, right?”

He looked at Kelsey, who started at being addressed.

“Oh yeah, no sign of that!” she said brightly. “I’m sticking super-close to Suliel, keeping myself in the loop on everything that’s going on with her.”

“Good,” Anton allowed. He looked back at the Duke, who was serving as his Lord Marshal.

“That is a concern, Your Majesty,” the duke conceeded. “However, interception by the Prince’s forces is a matter that affects us directly.”

Anton grunted, which probably wasn’t proper etiquette. Oh well. “On the contrary, my lord, the fact that his army is here means we can deal with it. If he attacked Kirido, there would be nothing we could do.”

“We left sufficient soldiers behind to defend the town,” the duke assured him.

“And don’t underestimate Suliel,” Kelsey said. “She got that captstone Trait during the last siege, remember?”

“I remember. Gravehold, she said it was called.” Anton shuddered. “I’m not sure what it does, but I hope we never have to find out.”

“Indeed, sire, but if we could return to the matter at hand.” Duke Nisha gestured at the army in front of them. “Prince Mazir doesn’t seem to have managed to bring his entire army here, but he outnumbered us before, and he has dug into the opposite bank. He clearly means to stop us from proceeding further.”

“I get the basics,” Anton said. “He wants us to use up our ammunition crossing the river.”

“Yes. He does not know that we have… an alternative supply route.” Duke Nisha gestured at Kelsey without looking at her. “He probably hopes that we’ll conserve our ammunition and fail to punch through his lines, causing us to bleed troops from arrow fire as we cross the river. If we do a proper massed volley, he’s likely to hunker down and hold us off as best he can before retreating.”

Anton looked over at the river crossing ahead of them. The river wasn’t large, just one of the many tributaries of the Avel; he hadn’t been told its name. It was wide enough to slow anyone trying to cross it, which was what mattered when your enemy was firing arrows at you.

“I take it we don’t want to avoid this crossing because then we’d have an army at our back.”

“Very true, sire. We may have to worry about that anyway. You’ll note the lack of Elitran banners on the other side.”

Anton didn’t bother looking. His memorisation of Zamarran heraldry was still a work in progress. Instead, he just nodded as if he agreed. “His own army isn’t here?”

“Not in force. Our scouts are looking for a separate force, but he may have abandoned this army simply to delay us, and gone on to reinforce the capital.”

Anton frowned. He was still naive about politics, but what that suggested…

Better check to be sure.

“Why would he do that?”

“His Zamarran troops are of dubious loyalty, Sire. Better to sacrifice them here and leave him with a higher proportion of Elitran troops.”

“As long as it costs us, as well,” Anton said grimly.

He looked across the river again. As Duke Nisha had said, they were dug in. It wasn’t a trench or a wall, but by digging out a shallow ditch and throwing the earth between them and the river, they’d steepened the bank and given themselves a little bit of cover against rifle fire. The front line was behind the heaviest shields they could find, and the archers were further back, behind another line of shields in case the rifles had more range than Anton’s forces had demonstrated.

“Those shields won’t stop bullets,” Kelsey commented.

“Not on their own, but I’m guessing they’ve bolstered their defences with Traits,” Duke Nisha explained. “Bulwark, Reinforcement and so on.”

Kelsey snorted. “So we bust out the Maximator and show them what those defences are really worth against a light machine gun.”

“I don’t think we should,” Anton mused, trying to conceal that his mind was reeling from what Kelsey had said.

Light? Light? Anton didn’t want to know what a heavy machine gun was like.

“Aw, why not?” Kelsey asked, pouting.

“The whole reason Prince Mazir pulled back from Kirido was that he thought we couldn’t use the Maximators in the field,” Anton explained. “I’d like to keep that knowledge from him for a little bit longer.”

Duke Nisha stroked his beard thoughtfully. “So you mean to use the riflemen, making him think that we’ve used up a good proportion of our supplies.”

“That would make him overconfident, right?” Anton asked. “Which, I know, is bad, but I’m not sure what it would look like in this particular circumstance. Would it make him attack us more, or less?”

The duke hummed in thought. “Less, I think,” he finally said. “If we can convince him that we’ve used up most of our ammunition, he will seek to draw us forward. If he challenges us again, we might be tempted to slow down and allow supply trains to catch up.”

“That gets us to Bures faster, which suits me fine,” Anton said. “Set the riflemen up in two groups with an avenue down the middle. Put the cavalry in the gap.”

“Sire?” Duke Nisha asked. “A cavalry charge across a river against emplaced foes—”

“They won’t be charging,” Anton assured him. “They just have to be faster than foot soldiers if they’re going to back me up.”

“Sire?” the duke said, with even more alarm.

“It’s all in aid of making Prince Mazir overconfident,” Anton said. “He’ll be getting a report of this battle, so I want to make sure he hears about some stupid things.”

It took a little time to get everyone in place. Anton was more used to organising and ordering a small party around, and he was amazed by just how much shouting was involved just in getting everyone to stand in the right places.

Once they were ready, he called for the Court Mage.

“Magister Darest. I’m told you have a spell that can carry my voice to the entire battlefield.”

Killian Darest bowed. “I can, Your Majesty.”

“The entire battlefield, you understand. I want the other side to hear me too.”

The older man raised an eyebrow. “That is unusual, Sire, but it won’t be a problem.”

He glanced over at the opposite riverbank as if confirming something and then made a diamond with his hands.

“Simply speak into the gap between my hands, Sire. The spell will last as long as my fingers stay together.”

Anton nodded and took a breath. This wasn’t his first speech, but they never seemed to get easier. At least he had his Charisma to fill in the gaps.

“We will be giving quarter this day,” he said firmly. He could hear a faint echo of his voice ringing out from the opposite bank. “If you have an opportunity to spare a life today, take it. The soldiers on the other side may be our enemy, but they are Zamarran. We fight for Zamarra. Once we have deposed the False King, once we have driven Elitra from our shores, you may well find these men fighting at your side for Zamarra once more.”

He paused.

“And for the battles to come, I’m going to need as many Zamarran soldiers as I can get.”

That got a response, a murmur of a rueful laugh.

“So if they run, let them. If they surrender, let them. This fight is just a waystation. The real battle will be at Bures!”

He shouted that last bit, although a grimace from the wizard told him he didn’t really need to. But on the other hand, he really did.

“To Bures! For Zamarra!”

They shouted it back at him. It was a heady feeling. He let the shouting go on for a bit, wishing he could hear the reaction of the opposite bank. Finally, he cut them off.

“Enough. You have your orders for battle. Fight well.”

He gestured to the mage, who ended the spell. Anton nodded his thanks.

“Your role today is to counter any enemy mages, yes?”

The mage nodded. “We haven’t detected any concentrations of magic, so we think Prince Mazir is keeping all his mages with him. But I will watch for any surprises.”

“Good,” Anton said. He looked over at Duke Nisha. “Start the attack.”

Even as the duke started bellowing orders, Anton started moving to the front, slipping between nervous horses. Kelsey followed him, which might have been why they were so nervous.

“You sure you want to do this, big man?” she asked. “Those shields might hold up to a few volleys, but they will crack. And then the men will break right after.”

“They’ll break faster if we charge them,” Anton said. “Which means fewer lives lost, and more tales getting to Bures ahead of us.”

The first volley went off, to not much effect. It was hard to tell if a shield splintered at this distance. Perhaps a few bullets found their way past the defences and found flesh, but only a few.

Anton reached the water’s edge at around the time of the second volley. He spread out his Aegis to as many of the cavalrymen and horses as he could. He thought it was based on his level, so fifteen pairs. Golden light sprang up around the ones closest to him.

“Don’t ruin your horses,” Anton told the commander. “But follow me as fast as you can.”

Then he drew his sword. Triggering Leaping Attack, he soared.

Since reaching Tier Four, the power of his first attack had improved even more. He could clear sixty feet from a standing leap now, which wasn’t enough to get him across the river in one bound.

It was enough to do it in two, though. As he flew, he let Stormfang gather its winds around him. They didn’t blow him any further, but he could already see the enemy archers loosing their shafts. They would be raining down on him soon enough, and he needed a storm to blow them away.

An entire flight was wasted because he moved too fast for them. He could hear the arrows hissing into the water behind him, too far away to even get deflected. His sword cleaved into the water, throwing up a massive spray, but he was already looking at his next target, an unfortunate soldier with a large shield.

Leaping Attack.

Anton was used to the speed by now. The soldier was not. Stormfang crashed down on the shield, splitting it in two. The soldier fell back, screaming. Anton let him go, choosing to strike the soldiers on either side of him instead.

Quick Attack, Quick Attack.

Anton cut them both down before they could even react, Stormfang slicing through chain as easily as flesh. Deep cuts. Lots of blood, but Anton couldn’t spare the time for mercy. They might live.

His body swayed as Uncanny Evasion moved him out of the way of the spears from the second rank. They were too slow, distracted by the screaming man at their feet. In a moment, they would be distracted by the screaming men in front of them.

Anton didn’t wait for that.

Leaping Attack.

It was showboating, unforgivable in most circumstances, but he wasn’t facing serious opponents, and he trusted Uncanny Evasion to keep him safe. Anton leapt over the second rank and brought his sword down on the third and final rank, who were only now bringing their spears up to skewer him. They were too slow.

Anton crashed down on one of them, smashing through spear, armour and bones with the power of his Leaping Attack. Another Quick Attack finished off the man behind him.

That put Anton behind two spearmen in close formation, which was exactly where they did not want him to be. They fell in quick succession.

The screaming had spread more widely now. Anton had cut all the way through the shield wall, and the soldiers on either side were frantically trying to get away from him so they could bring their spears to bear. He could have pressed on and attacked the archers, but Anton had something else he wanted to try.

It was only five men, but it was significant. The way he’d broken the wall, making a gap that was clearly visible to the men behind him. It should count as a victory, which meant…

Exemplar of Victory.

A triumphant roar from his army told him it did something.