Revision – 2026.6.29
Looking along the twain leaderships, Tiselius parted her lips once more.
“To review, the river Erbelde and its fertile basins were won from the Nafílim five and two-score years past,” she began. “As trophy, we triumphants built the Des Ailes Greatbridge, linking the shores. But this glory lasted not twenty-five winters, when jealous vengeance yielded the yonder banks back to Nafílim hands. And so have things stood unto this day: sundered, uncertain. Yet, Londosius ill-abides the shame any longer. Crown and Kingdom require dearly that we wrest back these basins, bridge and all. Failure is therefore not an option.”
The air at once grew heavy. Whether of the 1st or the 5th, grave were all the leaders as they lent ear. Emilie and Felicia were no exception in the least, to judge by their stiff and nervous faces, and withal their postures that sat straight as needles.
“In this present, my men and I assay to attain the far banks overbridge,” continued Tiselius, now looking intently at our side of the council, “albeit the going has proved grim. Stretching nigh-on a score passūs wide and over four-score long, the Des Ailes may seem a sumptuous span, but know this: ’tis entirely a bottleneck. Forget fielding a large assault; just a skirmish between mere companies makes for cramped combat. All told, we are as twigs attacking a mountain.”
Briefly, Tiselius stopped. But then her voice gained new hope.
“Thankfully, we have now the 5th at our side,” she said. “With your aid, we may yet breach the yonder banks—by fording the river itself.”
Met with sudden attention and revelation both, the 5th’s half of the board buzzed uneasily. A brigadier of ours raised a hand.
“Your pardon, madame, but… I must presume some trick is in hand, if we are to achieve just that.”
“Verily. Mine under-mareschal Behrmann will more explain. Francis?” said Tiselius, turning to her side.
And with a nod, there rose from his seat the so-named knight: white of mane he was, and seeming fifty winters in age. Clearing his throat, he spoke.
“The ‘trick’ is indeed as you have all heard and do fear, friends,” this Behrmann began, “to ford the waters afoot, directly to the enemy banks.”
“Faith!” gawped the brigadier, now left to doubt his ears no longer. “Sir, the Erbelde is tremendous. I daresay it would wash away a bear mere paces in.”
“Ah, but now drained by this drought, even a cub may wade it without worry,” assured Behrmann. “The river, put plain, has greatly waned. We deem it diminished to a dozen palmī or so at its deepest. Better still, the flow, too, has slowed to a purl. So you see, friends, to fare afoot is not so foolish a feat, after all.”
Sheila was next to raise her hand. “That is well enough,” she spoke, “but pray tell, good Sir: whence shall we enter the waters?”
“A fine question,” said Behrmann who, handed a large scroll from a swain, rolled open a map over the council board. All at once stood to study it. “The launching points total four,” explained the old knight. “Each column shall enter in tandem—hence, and hence. And over here, two more hence, as marked.”
As the under-mareschal moved his finger from one red circle to the next, the 5th’s leadership shuddered together and began to fret more noisily still.
“Good heavens,” uttered Gerd, his face turning faint, “if these marks hold true, then the furthest files will wade not seventy passūs from the bridge. That would mean enemy eyes fully on our forders, wouldn’t it? Surely you don’t fancy we embark so boldly into Nafílim fire, sir?”
“We do. As a matter of fact, we must,” answered Behrmann. “I’m afraid our options face a drought of their own. The basins at large ever bristle with enemy patrols; even were our forders to wade far away from the main fray, they would be seen and assailed nevertheless, you understand. Wiser, then, to bring them under the umbrella of our bridge-forces, and there provide them with cover as they attempt the crossing.”
I saw Gerd’s jaw drop. “But, sir… even so…” he stammered. Swiftly but uncertainly, he then turned aside. “Emilie, what make you of this?” he rasped.
Emilie blinked. “Er, me? W-well,” she stammered back, as all eyes then flocked to her, “—we have now two Orders to work with, giving us the numerical mastery,” she slowly then seemed to recite. “But ’twould be squandered if spread so thin and far. The idea, then, is to commit it to a focused offence instead, I think, one upon and… astride the bridge.”
And recite she did after all, for this was exactly what she and I had discussed just some moments ago.
“More practically,” Emilie continued with increasing confidence, “we’re to pour our main strength unto the bridge unabated, and thereby force our foes into a bitter defence. Meanwhile, our forders shall together wade forth and breach the ulterior shore, and thence press the offence till the enemy can no longer keep up. With this, the bridge may be breached at last, allowing our totality to cross and claim the far banks… is that right?” she concluded with a whisper and a glance given my way. I quietly nodded back.
“Ah, excellent! Swift on the uptake, I see!” lauded Behrmann. “Yes, that is precisely the plan.”
“But what about boats, Under-Mareschal?” broached Tallien. “Is materiel so taken up that we must stride rather than sail?” This chapter was copied from g.com without permission.
“Quite, Mareschal,” answered Behrmann. “Howbeit, we do have skiffs contrived to retrieve the wounded, if that comforts you.”
Tallien rubbed his chin. “Hmm… well, what of command, then?”
“None too altered,” said Behrmann. “’Tis evil to reorder the chain at this stage, I am sure you would agree. No, the Des Ailes shall remain the 1st’s remit. Furthermore, ours shall compose one of the four fording columns. The other three we leave to you and yours, Mareschal.”
The faces of the 5th exchanged looks. Amidst the swelling anxiety, Felicia brought up a hand.
“What of defence, sir?” she tensely enquired. “How might the forders be looked after?”
“Being water-borne, they shall, before embarking, be ministered levin-warding magicks,” explained Behrmann. “Moreover, each column shall be punctuated every three passūs with a sorcerer, who is to deploy and maintain a paling for surrounding defence. In addition, the vanguards shall bear greatshields to fend off enemy fire.”
“Thank you, sir,” said Felicia, before turning to Tallien. “Mareschal, I beg leave to refine our forders’ arrangements as needed. How strong, how wide—every sorcerer’s palecraft differs in fashion, if even subtly. But such differences deserve heedance, I believe, if our forders are to make it safely to the other side.”
Felicia made a fine point. And taking it, Tallien turned to and asked his commander colleague: “You shan’t mind this, Mareschal?”
“Indeed, I shall not,” said Tiselius.
“Well, there you have it,” Tallien confirmed. “It’s in your hands, Lieutenant Buckmann.”
“Mareschal,” saluted Felicia.
Our leaders sighed in slight relief as they settled back into their seats. Things seemed not so infernal, after all. At any rate, the council continued on with more questions, answers, and explanations. And after the whole of the operation was reviewed, and Tallien tendered withal his approval of it, Tiselius glanced once more through the gathering.
“’Tis settled, then. We commence at noontide tomorrow. My friends the 5th: I bid you all rest amply in the meantime,” she announced. “This concludes the council. Dismissed!”
With that, everyone arose and began returning to their tents, including those from the 5th, whose canopies had been pitched in the meantime. Within the bustle, I glimpsed Tiselius approaching our commander.
“Mareschal,” she called. “We are truly in your debt.”
“Oh, not at all,” he smiled politely. “I only hope not to disappoint.”
“Your men,” Tiselius began observing, “they seem rather… spent. Truth to tell, we were not expecting them so soon; you must have driven them dreadfully hard through Sewell, I imagine. Pray retire for the night. You have well-earnt it.”
“Ah… yes, right,” Tallien hesitated. “Well, to tell the truth myself: we have not taken Sewell, actually.”
“Not Sewell? Then what?” said Tiselius, whose fine brows then lifted. “No—you cannot mean Belithas? My, ’tis a wonder you are here at all…”
“Y-yes, quite,” Tallien uttered emptily. “Yoná in Heaven has purpose for us here, I’d like to believe.”
“We shall see,” noted Tiselius, her surprise tinged with what seemed like a wisp of exasperation. But whilst watching over their exchange, I soon entered one myself as Emilie came and called from behind.
“Rolf!” she said. “Well, here at last, aren’t we?”
“Here, and with much yet ahead,” I remarked.
“Oh, don’t remind me,” sighed Emilie. “But Rolf, your legs must be like straws after seven days afoot. Rest soon and easy, why don’t you?”
“I would, my Lady,” I said. This chapter was copied from novelping.com without permission.
She gave me a look. “‘Would’? How do you mean—”
“Emilie!” our mareschal shouted. “Have that swain of yours get this place sorted, will you?”
“Oh, y-yes, sir! Right away!” squawked Emilie. And turning back to me, her face puckered apologetically. Well, no helping it, I supposed. It wouldn’t reflect well on our reports, anyway, to leave all the drudgery to the 1st.
“Very good, my Lady,” I said in ending, “I shall be getting to it now. The other swains’ll be needing a hand.”
“R-right,” replied Emilie. “I’m terribly sorry, Rolf.”
“By your leave,” I said—or would’ve said, rather, had another interruption not come accosting.
“There you are,” the voice called. Albeit not to me, but: “My Lady of Mernesse. May I have the pleasure?”
A surprised Emilie spun about. “Why, Lieutenant Lindell,” she said. “Y-yes, of course. The pleasure is mine.”
“Pray be at ease. I do not bite,” Lindell softly laughed. “But do call me ‘Erik’.”
“Er, yes. Sir Erik,” Emilie stiffly obliged. “Likewise, ‘Emilie’ will do.”
“Splendid,” Lindell beamed; and then he bowed, “—at your service, my Lady Emilie.”
It was a fact that Emilie had been attracting no few eyes from the 1st ever since entering this garrison of theirs. This Lindell bloke, however, seemed the boldest of the bunch, being here the first to meet her face-to-face.
“I have heard tell of the 5th’s ‘Aureola’. And now I see that she is bright indeed—brightly beautiful,” cooed Lindell. “Speaking of bright: that was quite the sparkling display back there. Such studiousness, such lambency, such tactical tact; do you perchance go in for military strategy?”
Emilie forced a smile, and could but return to Lindell—”Ah… ahaha…”—an awkward laugh.
A rather dodgy fellow, this lieutenant. If he’d heard so much about Emilie the Aureola, then he ought know, too, about her betrothal, one would reason. Though to judge by his addresses, he didn’t seem the sort to be deterred by such “details”.
So were my thoughts when I left them to it, and got to helping the 1st’s swains clear away the council’s chattels and chairs. During such, we fell to a bit of conversation, from which I discovered that they weren’t more than half a year into their swainhoods. But when it came time to tell them of my own two-and-a-half year stint, they each but gave their rendition of “Oh, I see”, and then spoke to me no more.
As we continued the now very-quiet clearing-up, I next noticed Felicia looking hither from afar—and withal the disappointment that’d been growing in her gaze all this year. Neither this was anything to be helped. She’d witnessed my being trounced and trampled during training, my soot-steeped self whenever I had to unchoke the mess chimney, and perhaps most pitiful of all, my waiting on Emilie hand-and-foot. And now to see me housekeep as all the camp braced for war.
Well, better to disappoint than depress, at the least, I thought to myself rather pathetically, as I lifted and brought away the last chairs.
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Notes
Palmus
(Language: Latin; plural: palmī) A unit of measure used by the ancient Romans, taken from the length of the palm. 1 centimetre is equal to 0.1351 of a palmus. A palmus, therefore, can be roughly equated to 7 and a half centimetres.
Passus
(Language: Latin; plural: passūs) A unit of measure used by the ancient Romans, taken from the length of a pace (2 steps). 1 metre is equal to 0.6757 of a passus. A passus, therefore, can be roughly equated to 1 and a half metres.