Chapter 603: Into the East
Into the East
A handful of days passed, spent by the soldiers in preparation. It was always a complex matter when the whole legion had to march, even if two cohorts would do so in advance of the rest. Knowing that the Thirteenth would follow them eventually only complicated matters further, doubling the need for supplies to be brought immediately or sent afterwards. In the delta, the Imperial fleet lay as a promise of protection for the ships meant to arrive, bringing the necessary provisions for the campaign.
Being neither responsible for supplies nor any cohort, Martel had it easiest among the prefects, and his own preparations were swiftly done. His belt carried his alchemy and enchantments, his armour and equipment were in good condition, and he had no unfulfilled obligations. He sparred with Eleanor every morning as was their custom during days of idleness, but it hardly took up all their available hours.
He spent some time with Henry, knowing they would not see each other again for a long time; there would be no need for the stonemage to leave Esmouth until such a time that they had taken the Khivan town, and its defences would require repair and improvements. For all their cunning, the easterners had yet to devise a method for stronger walls than what enchanted stone might provide.
He met a few times with Starkad as well, though Martel expected to see him sooner; the berserker and most of his companions would travel with the legion, providing eyes in the area as the legionaries marched. The other Tyrians, those few still in Esmouth, did not make much conversation with the battlemage, but they all greeted him politely; he had provided a heating stone for the building serving as their longhouse, making their winter easier.
It took eleven days for the scouts to return. They had determined the best routes towards the Khivan town, accounting for water, danger of ambushes, and speed. There was no reason to delay; the following morning, the fifth cohort set out from the camp, followed by the legion's battlemage and his protector.
***
The journey to the outpost was familiar. It took the usual three days until the small, enwalled camp came into view. Martel felt a flash of unease; he associated this place with constant skirmishes, expecting an ambush behind every tree. The time spent inside it while being besieged by Khivan cannons did not make him think fondly of the outpost either.
Valerius greeted them outside the defences as the soldiers filed into the clearing, filling the area between the walls and the trees. "I have been expecting you," he announced with a smile. "Once the scouts returned, I knew it could only be a matter of days before you arrived."
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"Yes," Avery replied curtly. "Is your cohort ready to march? Couriers should have arrived to prepare you for this."
"Of course! The sixth stands ready. I will leave an optio with half a centuria to guard the outpost, and the remainder will come with us," the mageknight said.
"Good. We can go on for half a day still."
Martel let them talk, having nothing to add. He had no soldiers to manoeuvre or be concerned about. He just took the opportunity to dismount, sparing himself from the uncomfortable saddle for a few moments. He would have walked, but prefects rode during a march, even battlemages.
Martel was not sure about the wisdom in that; while it did allow them to move faster up and down the line in case of trouble, it also made them an easy target for any sharpshooters. Once they entered the woods, this was a genuine concern. At least the mageknights rode ahead of him and Eleanor; hopefully they would be the first targets.
"Martel, are you ready?"
He looked around until he saw Eleanor, still mounted on her horse. "What?"
"We continue. The sixth will follow after us." She held out the reins of his steed.
Right." He got back up into the saddle. Maybe if they got ambushed in the forest, he could make a good case as to why prefects should be walking on foot.
Valerius waved at him and Eleanor briefly before he walked back into the outpost, undoubtedly bellowing his own orders for his soldiers to assemble. Martel probably liked him best of the mageknights; he did not seem reserved in his treatment of the battlemage, either because they were close in age, or maybe due to his nature. Martel treating his wounds after the battle in the marshes might have helped as well.
Though Martel would not complain about any of the mageknights, save the decurion; whatever barriers might have existed between him and the other prefects, real or only imagined in his head, they had fought side by side too often for any to remain. While he still was not sure he saw them as friends the way he did with Henry or even Starkad, Martel would be sad to see any of them die. He felt a sudden touch of anger towards the legate that he would command the legion onto this campaign, making that a distinct possibility.
The fifth cohort reformed after its break, gathering into ranks. The road ahead would be more difficult, especially as it did not contain an actual road, only wilderness. Nearly none but the Tyrian scouts had been more than a day's journey east of the outpost; they went first, both to guide the legionaries along the best trails and to keep watch for Khivans.
While they had suffered a setback in their failed incursion, they still retained a force in this region, which would undoubtedly be rallied once they learned about the two legions marching on their town. Martel doubted they could face more than eight thousand legionaries; unfortunately, he rode ahead of less than a thousand in the vanguard.
The order was given, and the ranks set into motion, including the three prefects moving with the fifth cohort. Together, they entered the forest that lay east of the outpost, between them and the Khivan town of Namin.
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