TF Warden
patreon
Shadows in the Smoke - 25 - The First Shots
🕑 Added 2025-10-09 21:30:36 +0000 UTCShadows in the Smoke - 25 - The First Shots
“In the Empire, no one will willingly touch a Mage. With direct contact, they can murder or harm a person with no possible defence or, in the Empire’s backwards system, legal recourse. However, in the Republic, friends and comrades will embrace whether one has the Talent or not. The servile subjects of the Empire’s Queen know that power is constantly abused there and so they fear anything that might give another power over them. In the Republic, we are all Citizens together. Of course an Arcanist can harm someone with an embrace, but what relevance does that have? An Arcanist could equally hurt someone from a distance. I do not have the Talent and yet I could use an embrace to slip a knife into someone’s back. Arcanists are Citizens like the rest of us. Trust and equality are the bedrock of our society and it shows in even the smallest of things.”
The Struggle for Freedom by Bjarne Midthun
=====
They marched for several hours before making camp. Ester had to breathe a discreet sigh of relief when one of the Republican soldiers told her that a tent had been set up for her with the other officers. It was hard enough work keeping herself warm while she was awake. She couldn’t cast spells while she slept and making a Schema that would keep her dry and warm and last the night was beyond her. At least with what she had on hand.
Still, the thought that maybe Republican officers did get some privileges and the nation’s snootiness about equality faded when things got too unpleasant, did bring a small smile to her face. Especially when she’d been perfectly content setting up her own tent when she’d traveled with the Empire. She quickly dismissed the thought that that had been because she hadn’t brought a servant rather than out of any inherent virtue.
A bowl of stew, a few hours of sleep and they were on their way again. The Republican soldiers all looked hard. Weathered faces, cold eyes and tough feet, but Ester could still see how tired they were. The bags under their eyes, the wet mud caking their trousers, the snow settling on their hats and the heaviness of their steps all told a story. Perhaps they shouldn’t have partied quite so much on the train. She might be feeling more awake too if they’d been quieter.
Surely this wasn’t normal though? The further they went, the more she wanted to ask. Just to understand why they were doing this to themselves if nothing else. The last thing she wanted to do was to admit how tired she was, but she was meant to be here to learn about the Republican military and their war.
Eventually, when she shifted her bags on her shoulders for what must have been the hundredth time, she gave in. It was just doing her job after all, no one could think less of her for it.
Jakob was the nearest officer, so Ester drifted towards him. At least if he laughed at her, she knew she was better than him at their gambling game.
“Arcanist-Subaltern, may I ask a question?”
“Huh? Oh, Mage Mazar,” he visibly stifled a sigh. “Of course, how can I help you?”
Ester forced down her flash of irritation. “I just wanted to ask whether this,” she gestured around her, “this sort of marching, is normal? Do your troops not arrive at their destination completely exhausted?”
She was certainly starting to regret having asked to join them. This somehow managed to be both boring and thoroughly unpleasant.
Jakob looked her up and down. “Are you struggling, Mage Mazar? You look like you’re just about managing, but if you need help please do say.”
Ester’s eyes narrowed. She knew she didn’t look as tired, wet and filthy as the soldiers. Magic let her cheat. She was warm and dryish and had made sure her clothes were spotless before they left in the morning. It was the same for the Arcanists. She could see who they were simply from the way they still looked clean. That didn’t mean she was enjoying herself though. She was sure she had blisters all over her feet and her back ached from carrying her bags. Just marching this far was exhausting. If she hadn’t had Sergeant Etroan’s lessons, she’d have given up and rode on a cart before midday. Instead, she just kept going, ignoring the pain in her feet.
“I am well, thank you. I just wondered because this must be difficult the troops and I am here to observe after all.”
“Mmm, I suppose it does no harm to tell you at this point. We’re heading towards Fort Statvinger. The last reports that we’ve had said that it was being pressed hard by the undead and so we’re hurrying to reinforce its defences.”
“The last messages?” That sounded ominous. “When did you last hear anything from the fort?”
Jakob shrugged. “Not that long ago, I wouldn’t worry, communication is often difficult in times of war.”
“I see.” Ester didn’t feel very reassured. The slight frown on Jakob’s face as he said it didn’t help either.
=====
As time crawled by, achingly slowly, a certain sense of anticipation started to build among the soldiers. Eventually, it even pulled Ester away from her attempts at distracting herself by making something up to counter one of the many offensive marching songs she’d heard.
‘Here’s a ditty about the Central Committee’ didn’t have quite the same impact as she wanted and she couldn’t think of anything that rhymed with Republic other than public. With a huff she turned her attention back to their surroundings. There was something looming ahead in the dimming light, still some miles away down the road. Around them, sparse, snow covered forest left little to see.
The soldiers were looking around more, glancing left and right as they went. Some of them were muttering and there certainly wasn’t any singing anymore, so Ester looked too.
There. A body. The purple stripe of a Republican coat standing out on the grey clad, frozen, headless corpse half-buried in the snow. Her stomach lurched as she realised what she was seeing. What had killed him? Her?
Ester’s attention was yanked back to the front by a shout from the front of the column. Instantly the soldiers came to a halt. She nearly walked into the back of one before she fully registered it and then, with a clattering of wood and metal they were unlimbering their weapons. All around her, long wooden tubes were being fiddled with. Packages dropped into them, long rods rammed down and and knives attached to their ends.
Were they getting ready to fight? Obviously they weren’t stopping for a break. She looked around her. They didn’t look at all relaxed and she was almost entirely sure the tubes were small cannons.
Was she in danger? Were they all in danger? It didn’t feel like it, but Ester wasn’t stupid enough to assume. Several spells came to mind and she pushed up onto her tiptoes to try to look out past the column and into the trees.
The soldiers shuffled themselves around as they finished doing whatever it was they were doing with their cannons, until they formed a cordon with officers and carts in the centre. More orders rang out and they started to move again, much more slowly. Cannons with knives on the end, pointing out towards the snow covered trees.
An eerie cry broke out from somewhere in the distance, an ululating wail that echoed through the forest, clawing at Ester’s senses. She shivered and glanced around her again. Jakob had ended up near her and glanced away from his own scans of the treeline.
“Don’t worry, Mage Mazar.” He gave her what he probably thought was a roguish grin. “Just a precaution. You can just about see the fortress ahead, but we should have run into patrols by now, so we’re taking precautions. There shouldn’t be anything past Fort Stavinger. Let alone anything that can threaten a force like this one.”
Ester wasn’t sure how reassured she was by that, but she wasn’t going to show it on her face. “Thank you, Arcanist-Subaltern.” At least he seemed to have stopped trying to make little digs at her for now. “Is there anything I can do to assist?”
“Nope,” despite his casual tone, he’d already gone back to looking past the troops for signs of undead. “You just stay in the middle and you’ll be safe.”
Another shriek from the forest clawing its way up Ester’s spine stopped her from bristling at his patronising tone. She had no intention of leaving the safety of the cordon of troops. In fact, Vass Karan, or even Nilrava was feeling more and more appealing by the second.
They kept going down the road, the tension mounting as they went. As the light dimmed further, a couple of the Arcanists sent spells shooting into the air, bathing the column’s path in magical light to replace the Sun.
Despite the way the soldiers held themselves ready, and the fear that crept through Ester, no attack came. Eventually, she started to relax. She couldn’t stay tense forever and she could see some of the soldiers’ postures softening.
That came to an end when the crash of explosions rang out somewhere ahead of them, from the front of the column. The troops around her to an abrupt halt, their hand cannons pointing out into the forest. Ester stretched up and tried to look past them, peering through the flickering shadows cast into the nearest trees by the lights hovering above them.
There! Movement!
A man came stumbling out from the trees. He was wearing the same uniform as the soldiers, running so fast he was constantly on the verge of falling over. As he went, he shot frantic glances behind himself.
“Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot! They’re after me!”
For a moment Ester thought the soldiers would kill him anyway, then Jakob shouted out. “Let him through!”
A few of the soldiers stepped neatly aside, creating a small gap in their lines for him to sprint through. she didn’t have time to more than glance at his pale face before her attention was yanked back to the forest. Snarls and grunts assaulted her ears, mixed with the sound of running feet.
Ester had a moment to see vague shapes charging forward, some looked upright, others ran like animals, bounding on all fours. Before she could properly work out what she was seeing, the cannons boomed wiping out her vision with fire and smoke. Thumps and crashes sounded out as balls tore into flesh and trees.
Her ears were still ringing when magic flared and the ground in front of the soldiers exploded into fire as several Republicans cast spells. She was left blinking the light out of her eyes for several seconds before she could see properly again. The soldiers were busy reloading their cannons, but a long look told her there was nothing moving out there. She couldn’t help the sigh of relief that she breathed, even as it warred with disappointment at not having properly seen what had happened. Next time she wouldn’t be caught out so much!
Ester shook her head and looked back to the soldier they’d rescued. A couple of Republicans stood beside him as he babbled gratefully to them, ringing his hands together. She couldn’t hear what he was saying, but his chest was rising and falling from the exertion of his flight. He was a lucky man.
Whatever it was that had been chasing him hadn’t moved anything like the undead she’d encountered in the Duke’s Vaults. Was this what Lindholm had been talking about when she’d sneered at the monsters he’d created? If only she’d been able to see them better before the Republicans wiped them out.
Ester edged closer to the man and properly focused on him. How had he survived? Maybe those undead couldn’t run as fast as a man, but would they get tired? They were faster than the ones that she’d fought in the Marcni Vaults and a man couldn’t run forever. He was out of breath, which fitted, but where would he have been running from? She narrowed her eyes just as Arcanist-Subaltern Jakob strode over.
Magic! Just hints of it on the man, creeping around, almost invisible to her. Jakob didn’t seem to have noticed. He just kept walking towards him as if there was no problem. Had the Republicans let down their guard because they were so relieved to see one of their comrades alive?
Ester frowned, banishing all distraction from her mind as she looked at the man with more than just her eyes. There was definitely magic on him. Small sparks of pain rose in her head as she strained to see more. Green. There was the green of necromancy laced through it. It might just be the result of him fighting off the undead, but she couldn’t really believe that.
“Arcanist-Subaltern!” She raised her voice to get Jakob’s attention.
He gave no sign of hearing her, just nodding to the soldier flanking the man. She was going to have to do something, even if she couldn’t be certain about the man.
“Sa-” Ester clamped her mouth shut mid-spell when, in a sudden movement, the soldiers grabbed his arms.
She didn’t allow the magic to fade, holding the shape of her spell right at the end of her mind, ready to burn the man to a crisp. Had Jakob realised what was going on? Did he know something she didn’t? She’d be ready, just in case he was as clueless as he looked. Maybe she’d misunderstood what was going on and had been about to kill an innocent man. She shivered at the thought.
Jakob strode over to the protesting man.
“Just a precaution, Citizen. Nothing to worry about.” He looked him over carefully and nodded. “Well, you look clean, no taint on you.”
The man sagged slightly in the soldiers’ arms. “Thank you! I really thought I was going to die, they were so close! I could practically feel them grabbing at me.”
“Arcanist-subaltern!” Jakob glanced at over at Ester’s shout, waved a dismissive hand at her and then turned back to the rescued man.
“Relax, Citizen,” Jakob gave him a sympathetic smile, “you’re safe now.”
Comments
TF Warden
This little devil that hovers over my shoulder keeps telling me readers love cliffhangers.
Irgendwer Irgendwo
Quite the cliffhanger :)
