2k words
***
“They’re moving the same direction as we plan to. It’s not impossible. I’ll get some of my best riders to keep track of their movements, if they continue to move south, we’ll need-”
Mazkha seized his arm, her yellow eyes fixed on something ahead. Roderick turned to look, and between the trees he saw a figure moving through the undergrowth. It was another of the marauders, the horns on his helmet rising above his visor, his half-mail hauberk chinking with each pace. He paused between two trees, coughing into a hand as he watched the surrounding woods warily, no doubt out on some sort of patrol.
Mazkha raised her hand crossbow, but Roderick held her arm, stopping her as he whispered as loud as he dared.
“Wait. If he fails to report back, they’ll know something is wrong and likely move the camp. Better to leave him be.”
They waited for the scout to be on his way, but when he did eventually turn to make his rounds, it wasn’t away but towards where they were hiding. He hadn’t seen them yet, but in a few moments he would walk straight up to them.
“Too late now,” Mazkha said, but Roderick once more stopped her.
“Hold on, I have a better idea…”
She watched curiously as he reached for his belt, but not for the holsters or his sheath. The dark stone upon the cap of the relic glinted in the light as he brandished it in one glove, Roderick already feeling the tingles of energy shoot up his arm. He was beholden by a sudden moment of clarity, all his doubts and worries cleansed away, and he knew exactly what he had to do to make the best of the situation.
He aimed the relic towards the approaching scout, willing the door os his mind to appear. In his mind it was conjured, and he forced the handle to turn. There was a resistance from the marauder, whether he knew it or not, but it was nothing like Roderick’s first endeavours into using this newfound ability. It got easier with each time he did it, like testing the weight of a new sword.
He knew he was in when the warrior paused on the spot, cradling his head as though caught with a sudden fever. At his command, the man turned away, putting his back to there hiding place, slowly starting to march back the way he’d come. Mazkha lowered her crossbow when it was obvious he wouldn’t be coming back, rising to follow as Roderick started to move.
“There,” he said. “He’ll go that way as far as he can.”
“Does your little mind control trick have a limited range or somethin’?” Mazkha asked.
“I think so. I can feel their presence up to a point, beyond it they’re just wisps. He’ll snap out of it eventually.”
“Won’t he get suspicious that he suddenly had the urge to turn round?” she said.
“I doubt he’d risk a reprimand by telling the others he wondered off with no explanation, not while he’s on watch.”
“Fair point,” she admitted. It wasn’t long before they made it back their mounts, the creatures nibbling the leaves in such of something to eat. His horse had grown so accustomed to the giant boar that it barely even flicked its ears any more.
“You know, for someone who ain’t a wizard or a shaman, yer pretty good with that fancy magic of yours,” Mazkha said. She grinned, but that slowly began to fade as she noticed the solemn look on his face, Roderick turning the ancient weapon over in his hand.
“It is not me who is getting better at subjugation.”
-xXx-
“Two hellcannons, are you certain of this?” Von Kessel asked, leaning on a table strewn with maps and documents. Just over four days had come and gone since Roderick and Mazkha had taken their findings back to the rest of the scouting company, and they’d temporarily paused their eastward advance to let the main host catch up with them.
He’d taken the orcess along with him when they reported to the command pavilion, and encouraged her to tell the Captain what they’d seen.
“Am I certain?” Mazkha scoffed. “You sent us out because you wanted eyes and ears in the region, bud. Why’d ya do that if yer just gonna second guess us?”
“Seeing Chaos siege equipment is a very serious claim,” Von Kessel replied. “And you will address me as Captain, greenskin. Roderick, did you follow up on this?”
“’Course he did,” Mazkha said. “He-”
“I had some men I trust investigate,” Roderick said, cutting her off. “They said the same thing. Two hellcannons, with a band of men besides. She was not exaggerating.”
Mazkha cocked her head, but he gave her a silent look telling her to play along, and she seemed to take the message.
“Well, if you and your men are in agreement,” Kessel said, stroking his beard. “How many men did they have?”
“Mazkha?” Roderick said, directing the question her way.
“No more than eighty,” she replied. “They got tents set up in a clearing, right here.” She placed her hand on the map Roderick had brought back with them. “There’s an old battlefield just to the north of it, here. They blasted an entire Brettonian army there from the look a’things.”
“Are they still there?” Kessel asked.
“I got boys watching those woods every day. So far, they ain’t goin’ anywhere.”
“Keep an eye on them. If they start to pack their things, we need to know as soon as possible.”
Mazkha nodded, and it was the first time Roderick had seen the Captain show mild decency towards a non-human.
“The orcs have also been mapping out the surroundings,” Roderick said, stepping forward to gesture to the map. “The woods Chaos has camped in is all uphill towards the south and east, and they’re many leagues from the closest road. A small contingent of men could head them off from this flank.
“An ambush?” Von Kessel asked. “We don’t have the manpower to take on an army of Chaos warriors.”
“We would only need a handful of men with guns. From uphill they can fire down on them as they moved, and the underbrush provides a lot of concealment. They have only axes and a few bows, if they tried to charge our guns would cut them down.”
“And what of their hellcannons?” Kessel countered. “I’ve seen weapons like those on their ships, they can bring down a war galley in a single lucky stroke. Our men would be torn apart, just like they did the Brettonians.”
“Those machines would have hard a time tracking targets in the woods,” Roderick said. “While the gunners distract them, a second force can take the siege engines from the rear. A well-placed grenade or powder keg can remove them from the fight.”
“And how do you propose we do that? Cavalry charge?”
“That ain’t a good idea,” Mazkha interjected. “Those woods are full of obstacles, a horse or boar would trip over at full charge.”
“We would have to go without mounts,” Roderick conceded. “It would be the only way to get close enough to engage the artillery.”
“So you would have our men charge down daemonic cannons on foot, without support from our knights, in the middle of a forest they’ve no doubt got men watching? Their camp would have fortifications as well as the cover of the forest, an attack would be folly.”
“If we catch them while they’re marching, they’ll be exposed on all sides. We can hit them in different sections of their convoy, and if they leave their artillery at the rear, like our armies do, they will make easy targets of opportunity.”
“It’s too risky!” Von Kessel insisted. “There are leagues upon leagues of space around that forest, we would be better off going around them and continuing on towards the border.”
“Those cannons represent a very dangerous threat, Captain,” Roderick said, a hint of frustration in his voice. “Who knows where they’ll end up next? They could be on their way to support the Marienburg siege, for all we know.”
“That seems unlikely,” Von Kessel replied. “If they’ve done battle with the Brettonians, they’re here to ransack their lands, not the Empire’s.”
“So you would leave them to pillage at will?”
“Our mission is to help the homeland. What happens to Brettonia need not concern our efforts.”
“We can’t just leave them out to dry. You would only sow mistrust with Edouart and his men if you choose not to act on this.”
“I don’t need their trust, only their obedience, and he promised before his father that he would aid us, I heard nothing of doing things the other way around.”
“Obedience only goes so far,” Roderick grumbled. “They would never agree to leaving Chaos uncontested.”
“Which is precisely why this conversation will not leave this tent,” Von Kessel said, glancing pointedly at Mazkha. “If it does, it’ll be up to you two to put the Brettonians back in their place.”
“This ambush can be done Roderick insisted. “Two groups of thirty, with orc auxiliaries to keep the gunners safe. Killing the entire army isn’t the goal, the hellcannons are the priority, and with the right timing they can be destroyed before Chaos can mount a counterattack.”
“There’s no point in risking casualties when we are few enough as it is,” Von Kessel growled. “Every spent bullet, every life lost, it will all add up when we reach Marienburg’s walls. I thought you of all people would understand that, Roderick. I’ve won many battles by outmanoeuvring the stronger, powerful fleets of Chaos.”
“And how many fights have you won on the ground?” Roderick countered. “We’re not on a ship any longer, Captain, it’s time to stop thinking otherwise.”
His words had stung a little more than intended, the Captain staring him down from across the table. From the corner of his eye he could see Mazkha glancing between them, her expression somewhere between amusement and interest.
“Enough,” Von Kessel said after a long pause. “My men are not yours to put in the line of fire, Roderick. Maybe your orc and Skaven friends would charge headlong into death, but I have more sense than that. Unless you have anything else to report, you are relieved.”
Roderick held back a cutting remark, choosing instead to make for the exit. He thrust aside the flap, the cool afternoon breeze doing little to cool him off. “Can you believe that fool?” he asked, when he heard Mazkha follow him out. “Here’s a chance to strike back at Chaos, and instead he chooses to let them go. He didn’t even want to hear out my strategy.”
“He’s a cautious little critter,” Mazkha admitted. “Ruthless, too. How about that part about leavin’ the Brettonians in the dark? Oh, I can’t wait to let in little Eddy about all that…”
“No, don’t say a word,” Roderick sighed. “The last thing we need is the camp to broil into dissent. One wrong word and it’ll all blow up like a powder keg.”
“You think the Brettonian’s would mutiny?” Mazkha said, more amused by the thought than alarmed.
“The Duke gave his word, and Edouart wouldn’t want to disappoint his kin by going against his orders, but we’re supposed to help them as much as they’re helping us. Trust goes both ways.”
“I guess I could keep my mouth shut, just this once,” Mazkha said. “If I had some incentive, a’course.”
“Be reasonable, Mazkha,” he said, knowing her well enough to know when she was playing her tricks again.
“I will be, don’t you worry. I’m damn thirsty after all that ridin’ and campin’, how about we go share a grog this evenin’, since we’re dismissed and all that?”
“Not tonight, lass, not after all that,” Roderick said, Mazkha pouting at him in mock disappointment. “Think I’ll just turn in for the night. Haven’t slept in a cot in days.”
“Is there room for one more in that tent of yours?” Mazkha asked. Despite his foul mood, he chuckled at her candour.
“I don’t think so. You’ve seen how small it is, the top barely reaches your neck.”
“Then maybe you could come to mine? It’s right next to my little brother’s, and there’s plenty of space to go around.”
“I’m sure there is. Good night, Mazkha,” he said.
“You still owe me a drink!” she called after him.
-xxxx-